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daengtokki · 3 days

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Kim Seungmin/gn!reader

wc: ~2.7k

rating: mildly angsty cheesy fluff (idiot enemies to lovers)

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ happy (belated) birthday to @thackery-blinks and our Seungmo ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I don't wanna see him...I don't like him, I think I hate him”

you what?

If anyone were in the room with you, they definitely would have heard her booming voice coming through the phone. You have to pull it away from your ear for a moment, but that’s all she has to say. For now.

“I said…” you rub your ringing ear and turn the volume down. “I said I hate him.”

hate is a big word, I'm not sure he deserves that

“He’s arrogant, and he's rude to me. Don’t pretend you’ve suddenly forgotten.”

you’re hyper-fixating…and maybe a little jealous because he’s cute and funny around everyone else. and he’s not rude, he can’t be rude if he never says anything to you

You can hear her laugh even though she moves away from the phone.

“Are you trying to piss me off? I’ll stay home tonight, and you know that’s not just a threat.” You will. You hate going out at the last minute almost as much as you can’t stand Kim Seungmin. “...such an asshole.”

excuse me??

“Not you, shut up”

he has a weird sense of humor…c’mon, you know what this is, right?

“Yeah. A congrats slash going away party for our favorite touchy kissy couple. Is it awful that I’m relieved I won’t have to be subjected to any more of their over-the-top pda?”

no, I won’t miss it…but you’re also chronically angry and single, so you might be more relieved—but that’s not what I was I referring to

“I’m ready, are you on your way?”

yeah, this lights been red for ten minutes, I swear…what’s with the selective hearing tonight? I’m coming in to make sure you’re dressed right so don’t wait for me outside

“I hear you, I just don’t wanna listen to your ‘Seungmin actually likes you’ theory again”

my hypothesis…I need more evidence

/ / /

She’s quiet for the first ten minutes of the drive, only because a perfect string of songs pop up on the playlist, but as soon as it ends, she turns the volume down…

“Are you ready to hear this?”

“No”

“Alright, so there’s literally no reason…none at all for Seungmin to not like you, or be weird around you, or less talkative, or just walk away when you enter the room”

“But he does all of those things”

“Right. Do you not read romance novels? Fanfiction?”

“What kind of fanfiction are you reading?”

She’s already exhausted of your aloofness…or just your refusal to accept anything more than what’s already in your head. But you’ve known him, known of him, for a few months now. He doesn’t give you anything aside from what you catch when he’s with others. You’re invisible when he’s in the room, and the more you think about it, the shittier you feel.

“Hello, you good? You might not read fanfiction, but you’re staring out of that window like the protagonist in very sad story. No, antagonist. You’re my antagonist.”

“I am not,” you sigh. Everything suddenly feels very heavy, and maybe it’s because you know you’re almost there.

“There wasn’t much fight in that. You better perk up, we’re almost there.”

/ / /

The first thing you see is him, and it’s not because you’re looking. Seungmin is leaning against the staircase bannister, arms folded loosely over his sweatshirt. He’s less than ten feet away when the two of you walk in the door, but he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t turn his head out of curiosity. You’re surprised he doesn’t sense your presence and walk away.

“Sorry we’re late,” she says, making sure to gently shove you forward in his direction. “But we brought gifts!”

Now Seungmin looks at the two of you. First his eyes land on her, but they quickly dart in your direction, and they linger much longer than you expect. As much as you don’t want to scare him off, you take the rare moment to look at him from such a small distance—just his eyes, though.

“It’s us, we’re the gifts”

Seungmin clears his throat and takes his leave, just like you expect.

“Well, go after him”

“Why would I go after him? Please, give it a rest…I’m already tired.”

“Okay, okay…I’m sorry. Are you good?”

“No.” They’re angry tears, but nobody else knows that. "Not really." To the other eight people in the room, tears are tears, and you don’t want them seeing you, but it's too much to hold back. “I need a minute.”

You shove through her and the next arriving couple on your way outside, but you didn’t really think beyond this. It’s cold out, and you’re not really dressed to sit around by the water, but that’s where you head on instinct. It’s empty back here, which is what you need right now, and the cool air on your warm, red, tear-streaked face. Why are you even crying? Nothing has happened, not really. Seungmin looked at you, and his stupid brown eyes sparkled and grew as they watched you for far too long. Why did he have to look at you like that?

The gazebo is what you typically claim when you’re back here. That’s where you go. It’s not exactly comfortable, but it’s pretty, and it keeps you mostly hidden from anyone looking out from the house.

A text message buzzes, but you take your time pulling it out and checking. All it’s going to be is someone, your friend, looking for you.

come back inside

“I’ll think about it” …you reply.

he never came back in the room, if that makes you feel better

“It doesn’t”

You get a few more minutes of peace and quiet, but you’ll admit that you’re already getting cold sitting out here. The wind is coming off of the lake and right at you, and every time a stray tear falls, it feels like it might freeze. This won't accomplish anything, you know that, but hiding from everything is so much easier. You might hate yourself for it later, but right now you feel good in the chilly air.

And then there's a crunch of footsteps. You ignore it. Someone has found you, but that doesn’t mean you’re getting up and going with them that easily. You've already decided this is where you belong right now, and you'll stick to that until you're dragged back inside. The footsteps stop...whoever it is doesn’t speak, though. There's only the sound of something being dropped close to you ear, and the footsteps start to retreat almost immediately.

It’s a coat, draped neatly on the railing. A black cotton one that looks vaguely familiar, and when you turn a little more, you remember when you saw him wearing it last.

“Wait!”

You almost trip as you get to your feet, and you’re glad he hasn’t turned to see you yet. But he does—he stops and turns. He looks like he wants to keep walking, though, and he does…Seungmin takes a few more slow steps backward as he watches you grab the jacket and hold it against your chest. His scent reaches your nose. You’ve never been close enough to him to know it, but now you do.

There’s nothing to say, though. You have nothing to say to him, or you do and you just don’t know how to put the words together.

Seungmin stops, and then takes two steps toward you. Is he having fun? Is he just playing with you? Tears start to brim again, and luckily he’s not close enough to see it. If you don’t figure out your next move, he’ll turn and leave and you might not get this much attention from him again.

“Did she make you come out here?”

“Make me? No, nobody makes me do anything.”

You’re glad he’s not close enough to see you roll your eyes. “Then what’s this for?” You look at his jacket, and when you look back to him, he’s taking two more big steps toward you.

“It’s cold.” He says flatly, and maybe waits for your response that never comes. “I saw you walking out from the bathroom window. By yourself.”

“And?”

Are you making him uncomfortable? He looks like he doesn’t know how to answer for his actions, and maybe he doesn’t. He’s never concerned himself with your actions before, but you also never do anything to bring attention to yourself. This was an overreaction on your part.

“And…"

Uncomfortable, maybe. Confused…probably. Maybe you should kick him while he’s stumbling over himself. “Why are you concerned with how cold I am?”

Two more steps, and now he can definitely see your puffy face. “Sorry, I'll leave you alone."

He can’t be serious. Does he want you to explain this to him? The look on his face does seem a little helpless, and you’ve never seen him look anything but sure of himself.

“This is the second time you’ve spoken to me in months.” This is also the first time you’ve been alone with him for more than a few moments.

“That's because you always seem to be pissed off. You always look angry when I see you. You don't right now...you looked upset when you walked through the door a little bit ago.

Your eyes drop to the ground in front of him, and you have to work hard to relax the scowl on your face. “I’m not angry.”

"So I never tried talking to you. I assumed you didn't want to, since you never spoke to me, either."

The first time the two of you met, you exchanged a brief hello, and that was that. You remember it very well. Seungmin took your hand in his and squeezed it so softly. His eyes were intense, but warm, and now you’re wondering if you were wearing your scowl when you first looked at him. Why could you have?

“Put the coat on, please”

You’re shivering. So is he. Seungmin takes one more step and grabs the baluster, and you think he’s going to come up here with you, but he doesn’t. You let go of the coat and finally swing it around your shoulders. The scent coming from it makes your knees weak.

“Thank you”

This time he steps up, and he’s at your level. Above it, actually. He’s looking down on you, and every bit of space closed between you makes you feel even weaker. Stupid, so stupid. Nothing is even happening. He’s just standing there, looking at you drowning in his warm jacket. You could curl up on the ground and fall asleep in all this warmth, but his stare is making you anxious.

“You look mad again”

“I’m not,” you pounce, and you force yourself to relax again. “I’m not mad. I…I’m just...”

“I have witnessed you smiling and laughing…not with me, but I always wondered why I couldn’t do it. I can never get anything from you.”

The conversation doesn’t feel real, but it’s real enough for the party guests—a few of them peer out through the kitchen window, thinking they’re being discreet.

Seungmin has made you laugh before, but only in your head. And he’s made you smile, too…as you’re drifting to sleep and thinking of him doing exactly what he’s doing right now.

“You do make me laugh”

“I do?”

“Yeah, don’t tell anyone I said that”

You make him laugh—Seungmin actually laughs, genuinely, and it sounds so much nicer than any laugh you’ve heard from him before.

“That’s not fair. They see you making me laugh right now.”

They do. Three people are by the patio door, probably wondering why he isn’t in there charming everyone. You managed to steal him away, and you wonder how long you can keep him out here with you despite your numb face.

“We should go back in, it’s cold. You’re cold.”

“I’m fine. I really didn’t wanna come tonight anyway, so being out here is better.”

“You’d rather stand out in the cold by yourself than hang out with everyone?”

“I’m not by myself”

He laughs under his breath, but his smile is a little bit wider. “So you’d rather stand out here with me than enjoy the party?”

Yes, you don’t say it out loud. How could you? The way you’ve played up your hatred for him to others, and your indifference to his face since you’ve met. It’s a little embarrassing. But it’s painful being around Seungmin…pretending you’re not upset every time you’re dragged to group outing is exhausting.

“I’m gonna take that as a yes unless you say otherwise”

Perfect. Saying nothing should be easy, but this time you open your mouth. “I can’t pretend I’m happy when I’m not.”

“You don’t have to”

“But I put on a mask when you’re around and make everyone think I’m unhappy, even when I’m not”

“You’re not?”

“I mean…I am, because you leave the room every time I walk in. But I’m not, because you’re still around, somewhere…and maybe I still have a chance.”

“A chance. So you don’t hate me?”

“No, but I don't want to get my heart broken," why are you spilling your guts to him? "So we should just go back to how things were before.” The words are just falling out of you, and looking at him like this and being with him, finally alone, makes you want to keep going until there's nothing left.

“No, we shouldn't. And I don't want mine broken, either.”

Seungmin is in front of you now, blocking you from everyone still hanging around the window. They seemed to be getting bored watching the two of you talk and do nothing else, so you at least feel like you’re alone with him again.

He reaches toward you, and you jump.

“Sorry,” he whispers and pulls at the collar of the jacket, “but if you’re not going inside,” and bends to connect and pull the zipper until it’s closed up to your chin.

You’re sure you look ridiculous in it—it’s already a little bit big on him. And no, you don’t want to go back in, because the thought of everyone staring at the two of you as you finally return…

“No, I’d rather go home”

“I can take you home”

“Everyone is in there waiting for you”

“The party will still be here when I get back”

“I don’t know you very well.” You pull the zipper down a few inches. “At all, actually.”

“Oh, you don’t want me to take you home?” He smirks. “That’s very smart and safe of you. I could be a serial killer for all you know.”

“I mean I don’t know enough about you to…ya know, like you as much as I do”

He laughs again…just a sweet, maybe a little embarrassed giggle. “So you do?”

“What?”

Seungmin is blushing. You’ve seen him do this before; the blush, the giggle, and the smile so big you thought his face would crack every time a someone flirted with him. It was hard to hide then—that horrible sinking feeling in your gut when you thought he might leave with one of them. But now he’s blushing for you, and nobody else.

“You've been skirting around the words the entire conversation, and you have to spell things out for me sometimes. I didn’t wanna make a move until you said it."

“Said what, that I want you?"

“Wow…yeah, if you wanna put it like that. You want me,” he laughs again, “I guess I want you, too.”

“Make a move, please.” You whisper through your chattering teeth, and turn your head as your heart threatens to jump right out of your chest.

“Please?” Seungmin smirks pulls the zipper down a bit more, enough that you catch the cold breeze on your neck and chest. And then he’s there, lips an inch from yours, and he stares. “Please.”

You close the space between you, cautiously press your lips to his. His return is just as hesitant, and you’re surprised at his shyness. The zipper comes down even more, and Seungmin doesn’t stop until the coat falls open again—now he has somewhere to put his arms. They disappear inside, and he squeezes tight and deepens the kiss. He kisses like you expected him to, mouth open, tongue gently asking to be let in, and you let him in. You’re finally warm again, and you’d like to be even warmer.

“Seungmin?” You touch his neck, and his skin is hot against your cold hands, but it doesn’t faze him. His mouth quiets you when you think of speaking again, and it pains you to pull him off of you.

“What is it?”

“I don’t want an audience”

He turns and sees the group of guests gathered near patio doors; his friends, yours…all either watching or pretending not to watch the show you two are putting on.

“You just want me, yeah?" His eyes sparkle as if he can do it on command.

“Just you.” Your teeth chatter again, no matter how hard you try to stop it.

“I don’t mind ditching them for a few hours”

“You don't?”

“Not if you wanna get warmed up"

#kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin fanfic #kim seungmin fluff #skz x reader #skz x gn!reader #skz fluff #stray kids x reader #kim seungmin x you #kim seungmin angst #enemies to lovers

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davey-in-a-minivan · 2 days

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Isabel Lovelace My Absolute Beloved

Lovelace is one of my favorite examples of one of my favorite kinds of characters, which is: woman who the world is trying so hard to kill and emerges beat up and spitting out teeth and still going.

(Relatedly, Eva Olivia Moreno is one of the few White Vault characters I really loved and it's on the strength of the joy I felt when i realized that not only had Eva NOT died when a rockslide separated her from the team, but instead dragged herself three days over the mountains, alone, covered in mud and blood and bruises, WITH ALL THE TEAM'S DATA DRIVES, to let the world know what was going on and demand rescue for the others. LOVE HER. Alessandra "Cockroach" Strong of the Penumbra Podcast ALSO falls into this category and I would've loved to see more of her)

Interestingly, I think Lovelace plays a similar role in-universe for Eiffel and Minkowski, in that they first encounter her as a 'character' in old audio logs whose survival they are rooting for at a remove -- when Eiffel and Minkowski listen to her logs but it's unclear whether she made it off the station, Eiffel shushes Minkowski's skepticism and says "let me have my badass space commando chick!!" In the absence of conclusive evidence he clings to the idea that she survived, for what i suspect are two reasons: (1) it means it's possible to survive and gives him and Minkowski a sliver of hope, and (2) it's not fair for her to die after trying so hard to save herself and her crew, and if she survived he can believe that there's some fairness in the universe.

After Kepler shoots Lovelace, Minkowski tells an imagined Lovelace how badly she wanted to get Lovelace home because she wanted to believe that she could go home, which feels like an echo of Eiffel's earlier sentiment--obviously by now Minkowski knows and cares about Lovelace as a person, but she's also a symbol of the ultimate survivor, who will do whatever it takes to get home. If Lovelace, who fought harder and longer, with more skill and fewer limits than Minkowski finds herself capable of, and still didn't survive, what chance is there for Minkowski and her crew?

WHICH MAKES IT SO FUCKING SATISFYING WHEN LOVELACE LIVES AGAIN.

I need you all to know--Lovelace was "dead" for, what, an episode??--in that time my then-roommate and I put up a SHRINE to her memory. She was too cool and tragic and extreme and funny and hot to die!!!

I'm very glad the universe and Gabriel Urbina agreed.

It's not only satisfying because I'm obsessed with her and wanted her back (which I admit freely). It's a riveting development in the story of the unkillable Captain Lovelace where we finally see that she CAN'T be killed because she's already dead. Functionally she's a ghost in the story, haunting the Hephaestus until she finishes her unfinished business, and there's a delightful sheen of destiny to her arc where I was like oh fuck they've already done their worst to her and she's still going. She's going to win this. I don't know what it'll cost her, this could still be a tragedy, but she's GOING to succeed.

What does this mean for the rest of the original crew looking to her as a symbol? Eiffel, Minkowski and Hera do survive, like Lovelace. It is possible. But it costs them a lot. Weeks after Lovelace dies, resurrects, and has the day-ruining revelation that she's actually the alien clone of the dead woman she thought she was haha, she talks about the discomforting effort she makes to be the real Lovelace, not the person that Goddard turned her into. I think once they return to Earth the rest of the crew will struggle in similar ways. Minkowski need to believe that Lovelace could come home, and she did. But none of them could be the same as they were before.

Now, obviously the extremes Lovelace had to go to in pursuit of survival and justice were difficult and upsetting for her. But they were also hot!! SO let's wrap this up with some of the most iconic Lovelace moments according to me:

1. The "run and hide" monologue Eiffel and Minkowski find - HOT. sorry i know this comes on the heels of her describing the harrowing tragedy of her crew members' deaths but like

that's hot!!! go girl, kill em all!!!

2. THE DEAD MAN'S SWITCH. she said im going big AND going home, through the power of insane resourcefulness and this nuclear bomb i made

3. "variations on a theme" is suuuch a good minisode

4. disabling the airlock during the clone jacobi situation without telling anyone

5. NAPALM

6a. broadly, the hostage situation during the coup, where she goads kepler into focusing on her instead of eiffel

6b. SPECIFICALLY the part of the hostage situation where she gets the show's one "fuck"

7. alien possession lovelace!!!! i know it wasn't quite her melting kepler's hand off but god it's a fun scene

8. time loop lovelace. i love a good time loop and the contrast between her yelling and goading and shooting things in the last argument but also being, like, pretty chill and pragmatic about it--this is just her method of causing enough trouble to break the loop--is fun

9. hera's and her intersecting journeys re: what it means to be a person

10. distracting cutter so minkowski can stab him with the harpoon!!!!!!

in conclusion: WHAT A CHARACTER

#if i forgot any iconic lovelace moments PLEASE remind me in the tags #wolf 359 #isabel lovelace #podcast women manifestos

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dungeons-and-dragon-age · 5 hours

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ok sorry i'm just. ????

rant and spoilers ahead because i gotta yell into the void a little

first of and most of all. WHY does it sound like Solas front and center of everthing now??? Including both Inky's and Rook's stories/motivations???? Like okay i understand that Solas will inevitably be important in Rook's story and that's chill! We knew he was gonna play a part in this story! But why do they make it sound like half or Rook's purpose is just there to further Solas's story/character

and it quickly becomes clear that Rook will have their own unique relationship with Solas, as the Inquisitor did before them. I think what's been fun for us, too, is trying to build Rook as kind of almost a mirror of Solas.

Epler also acknowledges that the Inquisitor “obviously has a very personal relationship with Solas,” one that will need to be reckoned with in The Veilguard.

“And I'd say the Inquisitor, to some degree, feels guilty or responsible for what Solas is doing to the world. So while we're not going to get too far into details about what role they may play, they absolutely are somebody who is going to be interested and invested in the outcome of Rook's journey in The Veilguard.”

Why. are you telling us how our Inquisitor is supposed to feel about this?? When you play DAI you agree to play The Inquisitor, yes, but you don't agree to play someone who Cares About Solas. Like. Yes. I get that he is important. That much has been clear since Trespasser. And i'm ok with that! But how come you say "this is a game about Thedas and a world in conflict" and then also talk like this story is About Solas, Actually.

The other thing i absolutely do not get and do not like. At All

Those decisions are: who your Inquisitor romanced (with the options gender- and lineage-locked in the same way that they were in Inquisition), whether or not you disbanded the Inquisition, and whether you vowed to stop Solas or save him.

?????

No "who drank from the WoS"? No "who is Divine"? No "does OGB Kieran exist"? No "is Hawke alive" (Varric is there. SURELY he cares about this a lot)? No "what happened to the Mages & Templars"? No "were Wardens banned from the south"? Arent't those uh. Really Relevant Decisions???? WHY is one of the whole grand three (3) decisions that carry over if Inky wants to save Solas or not. I mean ok i guess i get it cus that was The Big Decision TM at the end of Trespasser but again. Why is that the big thing that matters. out of all the things that SHOULD matter.

There's not as many decisions you have made up to this point that have an impact on what's happening in Northern Thedas.

But it’s also part of the advantage of moving the setting up to Northern Thedas, Epler says, with the prior games in the series taking place in Southern Thedas, a significantly different region both geographically and sociopolitically.

Uh. Yeah they do. See above points and also some that i forgot probably. Northern and Southern Thedas don't operate independently from one another that's not how this works. Especially again with things like the WoS or the Divine decision. Also half our companions from the other games are from the north?? Like yes ok i know get what you mean kinda and it's true to an extent but not like this

for one, the team focused on choices that they felt they could react to meaningfully – not just a cameo or one-liner.

“There's never a sense of, ‘Oh, that decision doesn't exist.’ But maybe we don't touch on it in this particular title,”

The. Cameos and one-liners are what make it special though?? You can't say "We want those stories to be personal." and then say you're not making any of those small decisions matter. And i don't mean matter as in having A Big Impact TM but i know that a lot of us LIVE for those small tiny nods to previous decisions that make the world feel actually alive and connected. I understand that we can't have full on-screen cameos or questlines or whatever for every little tidbit but not even. idk. Background convos about what's going on in Orzammar? Gossip about Ferelden's monarch? A line from Varric about Bartrand? Dunno man. Again not to mention the Big Things like Kieran. or the Well of Sorrows consequences. Or the Divine (which. yknow. is directly relevant everywhere except maybe Tevinter??). Those were always the things that made importing a worldstate so charming! because you could see the small little impacts that you have on the world. The tiny things like the line about the pigeons in Ferelden in DA2 or a wartable mission with Wade and Herren in DAI are so so special to me

#da4 #dav #dav spoilers #dav critical #da4 spoilers #da4 critical #lay rambles #really really hoping that the article makes it sound worse than it is but. man.#not a fan of these news

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creatingblackcharacters · 3 days

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I want to submit Felix from Cassette Beasts! It's a monster-collecting indie game where people, ideas, concepts, characters, and stories from different time periods and realities can end up/physically manifest.

Felix is my favorite companion. He's a zote artist and comes from a world where comic books don't exist. He quit his job and went freelance, because he got fed up working under shitty bosses who never recognized him. Which... really hits home when you're also a fellow creative.

His questline is my favorite. You and Felix encounter his ninja-half angel-half demon-purple-cat girl OC, Kuneko, that he made when he was 12... except Kuneko has become her own character and is desperate to prove herself so that Felix won't find her embarrassing anymore.

Beyond the hilarity and relatability, it's really interesting how his questline involves creator-meets-creation; dealing with the overall lore of how concepts can come to be. Seeing Felix come to accept and love his past works, recognizing they're all a part of who he is today. It was just... touching.

He's a sweetheart dork (who makes you his MUSE) and I still haven't "finished" the game, because I don't want to part with him just yet.

Also, look at his blushing face:

God he looks like he gives great hugs. Omg his lil cheeks. I'll forgive him the Killmonger look this time. What's a zote? Shit, I think everybody who works a job can recognize shitty bosses who don't give them credit 😭

Okay first I'm cackling at the drawing bc I thought you dropped the wrong pic for a second 🤣 why is Kuneko so accurate?? 🤣🤣 This wasn't my first reaction but it's at the top bc it sent me. Okay. Aww wait, you said she's trying to gain his pride 😭 oh now I feel bad for laughing. I'm sure she's a sweetheart.

Felix actually reminds me of Hot Chocolate! Like, if I had to draw his face in this style, it would look like this, but with longer locs and a mustache.

#september challenge #post your favorite black characters!#creatingblackcharacters #black characters

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ruvviks · 2 days

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it's been a hot sec since i've talked about cyberpunk and i was initially working on a fic that would tell the story of this whole thing, but i've abandoned it many months ago and cannot say when i'll be picking it up again SO! i've decided to instead make this timeline. sorry in advance for how much information is in this thing the cyberpunk extended blorboverse essentially refers to the story parallel to the in-game events of cyberpunk 2077 that @mojaves and i came up with. we don't really have a better name for it but at this point the term has been used so many times that i feel like everyone here knows what it is by now, but at the same time we've never really explained the full scope of what the story is by now (it's a lot sorry). so in an attempt to get you guys a little bit more up to date with it all, here's a semi coherent timeline that describes the core events of the story and every branching story that came out of it! for additional background information, you can check out the following posts (timeline 1 / timeline 2 / timeline 3) to catch up with the continuation of the in-game storyline that's referenced in this timeline, but it's mostly irrelevant to everything here save for a couple of referenced events that cross over between the stories. it all ties together very intricately sorry about that. don't worry too much about it i've included my taglist down below to make sure people who are interested won't miss this post, but feel free to skip over this if it's not your thing! won't be doing a lot of this kind of stuff in the future but i'm trying to get back to the cyberpunk roots so this is kind of like, a good starting point and reference point for later posts!

The story starts in early 2077 and is centered around Sebastian Vidal, gang leader of the Cobras and previous test subject of Arasaka Special Programs (the linked page is a lot of information but gives the most coherent overview of what the branch actually is). The current director of the SERPENT projects, Andrew Colton, and Dr. Alana Cartier, both want him dead, to tie up their last loose end before the rest of Arasaka can find out and shut down Special Programs once and for all.

Over the past months they’ve been hiring various assassins in secret, to try and get Seb killed; however, these assassins keep failing, and their latest attempt lies in the hands of Cassidy Shaffer, an ex-corpo turned assassin with a strong moral code and plenty of experience to his name. With little to work with, as his mysterious client doesn’t give out much information, Cassidy starts with what he thinks is gonna be a quick and easy job– but he ends up hunting after Seb for essentially a year.

During this year, the two men have a series of wild encounters that get more and more insane the longer it goes on; it includes, but is unfortunately not limited to, Cassidy biting off a chunk of Seb’s ear, the two of them running over the highway, the two of them getting handcuffed together and chased by the NCPD then hit by a car right in front of the hospital, and Seb sensually licking blood off Cassidy’s face after having stabbed him when Cassidy wanted to strike at a concert Seb is visiting.

All of it comes to a sudden stop when Cassidy learns his client has been lying to him the whole time, and since he does not appreciate lying clients he ends up jumping sides and teams up with the Cobras to do some cleanup duty in Arasaka Special Programs. He and Seb work together to go after a list of targets to get the still ongoing projects mostly to a halt, while remaining in the shadows themselves as to not draw too much attention their way; and during this collaboration they meet several people from their past, bringing back both good and bad memories.

One of these people is Hanan Chisaka, the Head of Security at Special Programs. She ends up becoming the next test subject of Project Cobra after the last successful subjects, Xavier and Gabriel Mason, end up escaping in the midst of the chaos of Hanako Arasaka’s capture in mid-2077. Once Seb’s best friend and Cassidy’s mentor, she’s now forced to hunt the both of them down; but in their final confrontation she snaps out of the controlled mode Arasaka keeps her in and runs away with them, effectively leaving Special Programs without any test subjects. Another one of these people is Reid Bennett, Cassidy’s ex and ex-coworker back at MaxTac. He still works for the corporation and has been on an ongoing investigation into Arasaka Special Programs; seeing Cassidy alive and well, working together with Seb no less, piques his interest and he continues to look further into the case, which will cause him to make a very big mistake later on in the timeline.

By September 2078, Seb and Cassidy have successfully taken down all their planned targets and retreat back into the shadows, leaving Special Programs with many losses and no test subjects. With the APEX program discontinued a month earlier (incident discussed in this fic, which is a continuation of the in-game events), and Hanako Arasaka recovered and ready to take the corporation back from the hands of her corrupt brother, Special Programs ends up having to retreat for the time being, and cook up a new plan in the background.

Special Programs by this point is run by Andrew Colton, Alana Cartier, and Kaida Akiyama, three players who have been in the game for a long time already in the SERPENT projects’ runtime. Colton and Cartier are married– Cartier used to be married to Seb and cheated on him for a good amount of time when he was still at Arasaka– but their marriage is starting to fall apart. Akiyama has had to watch over Special Ops agent Ambrose Hawthorne for a while during his chase after the Mason twins, which ended up with the twins dead and Hawthorne going into early retirement (Arasaka doesn’t know the twins faked their death and Ambrose is now dating one of them lol), and xe is now determined to help Colton and Cartier get Seb back into Arasaka so the projects can continue.

Cassidy’s initial plan was to leave as soon as the collaboration would come to an end, but he has found his place with the Cobras and instead ends up officially joining them.The next chapter in the story is a more laid-back and easygoing chapter, in which Cassidy learns to be part of real life again, and in which Seb learns to let people get close to him again after spending years trying to convince himself he doesn’t need any help. Over the course of a little over a year (all the way to November 2079), the two grow even closer than they had already done, going on gigs together and, you guessed it, slowly but surely falling in love until they inevitably end up together at the end of it.

Not long after the two get together, Reid returns into Cassidy’s life. He wants to try and be friends again and Cassidy gives him a second chance, though this soon enough turns out to have been a mistake, with Reid trying to create distance between Seb and Cassidy and then going as far as trying to sell Cassidy to Kang Tao (one of the few corporations that have been hunting Cassidy down for a while now) in exchange for his own freedom from MaxTac (where he would have otherwise been stuck at for probably the rest of his life). Naturally, Reid can’t watch Cassidy get tortured for long and leaks his location to the Cobras, who find and free Cassidy and take Reid into captivity instead– he does not get killed, but instead has to sit out some time at a safehouse somewhere in solitude, where he gets to decide what kind of person he wants to be in the future.

This brings us to Elysium; a gorgeous spaceship which was supposed to be a relatively cheap escape from reality for everyone who wanted a refreshing break from Earth, but through Arasaka sponsorship has become just another cash-grab project to compete with the Crystal Palace– and considering the megacorporation has its greasy hands all over it, the secret labs in the spaceship are used for a series of very unethical experiments. Naturally so, it would be the perfect place for Colton to continue his SERPENT projects without the risk of Hanako Arasaka finding out and shutting the place down. He sends forces up to Elysium (obviously after his other attempts at relocating the project to space have failed tremendously, having lost contact with every single crew in the smaller Arasaka stations in orbit around the planet), but since he’s not there himself his cousin (one of the CEOs of Elysium), Maxwell Crane, unbeknownst to Colton, takes control of the SERPENT projects in space instead. From the earlier linked Special Programs page: “Project Eryx used the technology of previous projects, but took a completely new approach in the hosts it used; rather than focusing on the human psyche it attempted to create a new type of cyborg which would lack the humanity that caused previous projects to fail. The Cobra chips were no longer used and the software was instead installed directly onto the host’s mainframe. The flexibility of the new hosts– more robot than human, and in some cases the entire human aspect was lacking altogether– allowed for experimentation with highly advanced cybernetic enhancements and military grade tech and upgrades, turning the test subjects– dubbed ‘prototypes’– into dangerous, unstoppable killing machines.”

Things settle down for Seb and Cassidy, but this moment of peace does not last long. In January 2081 the two find themselves traveling to the spaceship Elysium, to investigate a curious situation in the laboratories– they’ve been hired by Arasaka without their knowledge and it’s a setup to get Cassidy killed and Seb back in Cartier’s control.

While in space, they learn that the secret labs have suffered an outbreak of the above mentioned prototypes. They quickly connect the dots and realize Special Programs is back in the game, and they work together with security guards Aubrey Valentine and Leon dello Russo to try and fix the situation before it gets out of hand. Obviously this fails tremendously and Elysium ends up on a complete lockdown after a ship-wide outbreak, which is eventually contained in late March of that year, with CEO Maxwell Crane dead, leaving only his wife Kinsley Osborn behind.

Elysium continues to exist and is rebuilt after the crisis, and Kinsley Osborn can now finally turn it into the retreat it was always meant to be. Previously, most Elysium employees were to be stuck in space for the rest of their lives; however, with Arasaka out of the picture they are free to leave as they please, which results in a gigantic cut in total employee count in the months that follow.

Seb and Cassidy return to Night City and take Aubrey and Leon with them. Aubrey reunites with his sisters; Becca, James, and Rikki, and soon after his return to the city he opens an LGBTQ+ nightclub called Bodytalk with them, found Downtown, City Center, in June 2081. Not only is it a fun place to hang out at, it’s also his main hub as a fixer, and he starts a collaboration with the Cobras to get business going between the gang and the club; and soon enough it grows into a large and powerful network of connections, which is the foundation on which the rest of the stories are built.

After this point in time, many many more things happen but it would take me another hour or ten to go into full detail of all of that, so instead here’s a quick rundown of some of the other things that Bodytalk gets involved in:

Reid Bennett is handed over to Aubrey and he starts working at the club, and he becomes a very valued employee as well as a good friend to many now that he’s no longer fucking insane

Kaida Akiyama returns from Elysium and shows up to Hanan’s doorstep, to ask for her help with getting out of Arasaka for good; much later on, xe starts working for Bodytalk as well, in an attempt to put xyr past behind xem and become a better person

Urban Dynamite starts performing at the club regularly, and it becomes their home base

Luna Serratos, Cassidy’s ripperdoc friend from all the way back to killing era, gets involved in the Harbinger case from Maelstrom (one of the gang’s most feared members); turns out the Harbinger is in fact Reuben de la Rosa, a by then 22-year-old kid who has ended up in Luna’s care with his friend Noah Telavera after the two got caught up in an explosion. She requests the Cobras’ help with getting Maelstrom to let Reuben go

Officer Michele Diaz from Militech (who used to be Cassidy’s boss) is demoted following the lawsuits after the Elysium incident, and her investigation into the incident in hopes to get her job back leads her to Bodytalk; she begins threatening them and sends the whole club and their allies into uncertain times

Many people get married. There’s so many fucking guys here we went a little insane with the numbers but there’s several weddings and there’s a whole polycule going on too feel free to send asks about this if you’re interested

Cobra Cybernetics releases a new line of cyberware, which is incredibly buggy and dangerous to the public; it’s brought to the club’s attention and it makes them realize that Luiza Vidal (Seb’s sister), who not that long ago asked them to kill her husband (William Colton (Andrew’s brother), CEO of Cobra Cybernetics), has gone missing; they now need to get involved without getting the news out that they actually didn’t kill William and that he is still alive somewhere, while also balancing out dynamics between Biotechnica (angry at Cobra Cybernetics for stealing their designs) and Arasaka (the actual reason why Cobra Cybernetics’ designs look like Biotechnica’s designs, because William stole designs from Special Programs after halting their partnership after the Elysium incident, but these designs had been stolen by Arthur Jenkins from Biotechnica even BEFORE that to be able to hijack the European Space Council’s cybernetics following the Frankfurt incident. Are you still with me)

Vitali Dobrynin (fixer and main character from the in-game events storyline and the continuation of it; Vincent “V” Mayer’s boyfriend) ends up visiting Bodytalk after meeting Aubrey at a Fixer Council meeting, which happens in late 2083; this essentially ties the two main storylines together, which means that yes, a lot of the characters from the two separate storylines end up meeting :]

Officer Ulysses Dimakos (used to work with Reid at MaxTac) is sent to investigate Bodytalk following the Cobra Cybernetics scandal, and ends up teaming up with the club to get MaxTac on a dead trail in exchange for his freedom of the corporation

On top of the Bodytalk / Cobras centered storyline, there’s a couple of side stories that are still connected to the whole thing but are more of a standalone thing with only a few touching points to the rest of it all:

This obviously takes place a lot earlier because it’s already mentioned above, but Special Ops agent Ambrose Hawthorne is tasked with chasing after the escaped Mason twins; naturally he lets them go and ends up going into retirement, and Xavier Mason later on ends up becoming Bodytalk’s part-time repair guy on account of knowing Kaida

Gabriel Mason ends up in a car crash with retired security specialist Ames Ortega, who was also in Elysium during the incidents there, and the two end up babysitting Ambrose and Xavier’s kids together while those two are helping Hanan with getting Kaida out of Arasaka (Are you still with me. Blink if you can hear me)

Mercenary Frankie Sayyad gets a promotion from his fixer, Vulture (real name Diana Crane, Maxwell Crane’s older sister and cousin of the Coltons), and becomes one of her Bloodhounds; he works together with Evelyn Harris, Nimue Nkuna, and Beckett Rydel, the latter being one of the very first test subjects of Arasaka Special Programs, and the four accidentally get themselves mixed into a mystery concerning their secretive fixer

Caleb Harris, ex-security at Biotechnica, ends up back at Club Bodytalk not long after the conclusion of the Cobra Cybernetics scandal, and starts working for Aubrey; he is partnered up with Ramiel Al-Masri, a mercenary who has been working for Vitali Dobrynin for a while and has recently joined Aubrey’s mercenary roster too, and together they dive into a series of gigs neither of them had expected

Journalist Bodhi Shankar has finally found more evidence and information surrounding the mysterious cult gang Umbra and its so-called Prophet, Thiago Salazar; however, his antics have led to him accidentally becoming part of the gang himself, and he has to figure out a way to get Thiago to stop listening to the supposed deity that the gang worships known as Scintilla, before she makes him do things that will get many people killed

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @gurathins;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @aemondtargeryen, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian;

@estevnys, @elgaravel, @aezyrraeshh, @carlosoliveiraa

#nuclearwriting #timeline tag #this is really lengthy so again if you don't wanna go through all that i can respect that WBHSNGJFDHGDFJG just wanted to like #show that no i am NOT dead i have in fact been yelling about my ocs basically every single day since the last piece of writing i posted #but it's all in intricate rituals between me and my bf that as you can see results into. so much information. that's only barely coherent #i could go into entirely more detail is the thing. i could very easily go into entirely more detail because you see #we have encounters written out for killing era. all encounters. they're all there #we have separate timelines for the bigger events like the elysium arc and the maelstrom arc and the militech arc #the whole thing with cobra cybernetics is a buildup that dates back all the way to fucking 2072 and then happens in 2083/84 #the colton/crane family dynamics are a whole bookwork of information on its own #then there's the whole polycule that's gotten. a little out of hand i'll admit but it's COHERENT i made a VISUAL for it #there's years worth of history between SO many of these characters that can all be analyzed and picked apart personally #there's the whole side stories going on with ambrose and the mason twins and the bloodhounds and umbra #the whole elysium incident on its own is a horror freakshow that would do numbers on here. i'm telling you #BASICALLY WHAT I'M TRYING TO SAY IS. IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS ABOUT LITERALLY ANYTHING #PLEASE COME INTO MY INBOX OR IN ANDY'S INBOX WE LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS STUFF #THERE'S SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WE HAVE AN INSANE AMOUNT OF OCS FOR IT AND WE'RE STILL MAKING MORE #ELYSIUM HAS A WHOLE CREW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WE MADE UP A WHOLE CREW FOR ITTBHGFJNBHGJKSDGDSNGJDSG #I'M NORMAL

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mithrifer · 2 days

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My thoughts on Flipside

Class of 09 Flipside was hilarious, but I don't think it approaches the original or reup in quality.

I don't think it's because the main character is Jecka, or anything. Honestly, Jecka is the best part of the game, she's consistently good whether it be in jokes or likeability. The side characters just don't... live up to her though. Aside from her it's just Nicole, Jeffery, her dad and Kelly. I don't think Nicole is very good in this game, Jeffery and her dad are rather one note as expected and Kelly... unfortunately stars in the weakest route by far and does not much even there. Barely any Emily and Ari, no Kylar, no Karen. No Kyle. Jecka's great and carries herself quite well throughout the game, but she feels really alone narratively. This could be a conscious choice, as she goes through most of her troubles as a lonely girl without anyone to rely on, but I think they could've made that point without sacrificing the interest that comes with everyone surrounding her. Most of her interactions either use the other characters as jokes or to elevate her story, which wasn't how 09 or reup felt. Nicole got to try out new things thanks to all the weirdos she was surrounded with giving her new ways to have fun, whereas Jecka only really has Jeffery and her dad in that way, and she feels trapped no matter what she does. She didn't seem that way in the first twk games, but I suppose you could say those were not about her. I think the fact that you can't see her mom even on the school routes speaks volumes though.

Every ending is there just to shock you, and I'm not saying this because there's no happy endings or anything, the first two barely had those. It's more like... the endings feel like they barely have anything to do with the routes they come from? Why does the foot route end with... that? It's just out of nowhere. Not to mention the deal with the whole FYE route. I don't think there's anything redeeming about that one, it doesn't even feel like it belongs to the same world. And the way the game cheapens one of the best endings in the original by just, inserting Jecka. Which is something people have wanted for a while now, but I don't think the idea was done justice. It feels like a cheap "here you go" moment to me. It's really upsetting because I feel like the game could have gone in a ton of great places, but there's barely any choices or routes and the abrupt, weird endings just feel like a slap on the face even to the ones that were given. I think the best route was the one about drinking because it felt honest to Jecka's character and the ending was something I could've actually foreseen in one of the earlier games. After that it's the one with Jeffery, but I'm kind of iffy on that because I don't think Nicole would do that. Not for any moral reasons but more due overall disgust. Feels inconsistent with her presently given character.

The writing feels overall different imo. It's hard to put a finger on it, because it definitely relies on the same formula it had in the previous entries, but nothing in Flipside packs the same emotional punch. The humor is fairly good, but it's not spectacular like the first two games were for me. I still laughed out a few times though, since this is right up my alley.

I'm still happy I saw it, because it was quite fun... But it wasn't really more than that. It just felt like a humor piece. I don't know what spoke out to me in the first two VN's, but I don't think Flipside has it. And honestly, considering it true to these two (canon, ig?) lessens their value for me due to the shift in the thematics and I guess writing, so I think I'll ignore it when I think about the series in general. Which is such a shame, because I want to love it, it's just... not there.

It's definitely worth the time to check it out either way though. Again, pretty funny. This is what I felt about it, and I wanted to get my thoughts out. Since it's so early in its release, I've tried to avoid putting any spoilers in the post. Maybe someone will read it and appreciate, idk. Drunk driving rules.

#class of 09 #class of 09 flipside #nicole class of 09 #co09 nicole #jecka class of 09 #co09 jecka #i kinda want to go through the first two again now #tldr they were better #mithpost

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pichiru · 3 days

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The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 1

Chapters - [1] [2] [3] [4]

Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. But who he meets isn't who she thinks she is. Things start to get weird.

Word Count - 1,782

Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery

A/N: Hi everyone! This is the first fanfic I've written in about 10 years! This is my first time posting my writing on Tumblr and I'm very, very nervous. The Grunkle Stan curse has consumed me whole… I'm not sure at the moment exactly how long this fic will be but it'll be a fun ride for us all! :3 I really hope you enjoy! Please feel free to leave feedback about how you feel about the story! I looooooove reading what everyone has to say and how you feel about stuff! It makes me so happy :D

~~~~~~~

“So…”

“Uh huh…”

“What you’re saying is…”

“Uhhhh huuuhhhh.” There was smiling, almost downright giggling, in her voice.

“You…”

“Uh huh!”

“Wanna…”

“EEEEEE!!!” She screeched quietly behind her prayer positioned hands while jumping in place.

“Start your own weird earring business?”

Mabel let out a loud ear piercing scream, causing Dipper to cover his ears quickly. Even at 15, almost 16, Mabel was still so excitable and bubbly. She never lost that part of her personality and she never would if she had anything to say about it.

“Mabel, is there even a market for that kind of thing?” Dipper asked his sister after she finally calmed down enough to have a conversation.

“Dipper…” Mabel started, her tone serious. “You have no frickin idea!” She squealed, jumping some more in place.

“Okay, say for instance I believe you and this is something you’re actually gonna commit to this time, how are you gonna get the materials?” He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

“Oh you know…” She said with a wide grin, nudging her brother in his ribs with her elbow. Dipper let out a groan, unfolding his arms to rub where she practically stabbed him.

“He’s not gonna go for it, Mabel. Him or Ford. Grunkle Ford would probably have war flashbacks if you even said the word ‘weird’ around him. Even if you whispered it,” Dipper said matter of factly.

“That’s what you think. You just don’t have the Mabel Pines charm. Or the puppy dog eyes. You’ve lost your edge. You’re too emo now,” Mabel sighed as she started reminiscing how cute and cuddly Dipper used to be. Now he’s just like Robbie. But somehow cooler? Somehow.

“Emo?! It’s called goth!” Dipper said, his voice cracking very slightly. His cheeks flushed, hoping Mabel wouldn’t notice. Her lack of reaction led him to believe she didn’t. But he figured she was just doing him a favor by not embarrassing him about it anymore. It got boring, he figured.

“Anyway,” Dipper started after clearing his throat a little. “I’d like to see you try to convince Stan to foot the bill for this. There’s no amount of 15 year old puppy dog face that’ll get him to do it.”

“Oh ye of little faith, my brother,” Mabel sighed, shaking her head as she started unpacking her luggage.

The twins begged and pleaded to stay with their grunkles for the summer. It was a big summer! Their 16th birthday. Ford and Stan agreed to return from their Stan o War II expeditions on the condition that they could plan a huge party for them before sending them back home. They thought it would be nice to do for the kids. Especially since they haven't really seen them since they turned 13. Dipper, however, has been keeping correspondence with Ford every week.

Mabel pulled a blazer out of her largest suitcase and held it up to Dipper with a wide, metal filled, grin. "I brought this just for the pitch! Hopefully it'll make Grunkle Stan take me seriously since all he does is wear a blazer in the shack. And dress pants. Come to think of it, he wears a full suit to work in a tourist trap," she said mostly to herself at the end.

"Did you get the blazer because you think it'll make you more grown up?" Dipper asked, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Uh, duh, Dipper. Why else would I just have a blazer laying around as a teenager?" Mabel asked, rolling her eyes back.

Dipper had his back turned to Mabel but he smiled at her comment. He loved that his sister was so sarcastic and funny. It was one of his favorite things about her.

After about 15 minutes passed, they were both unpacked and settled into their old room. Ford had even convinced Stan to get the kids their own full sized beds, instead of the smaller twin sized beds. He thought it would make them feel more comfortable. He wasn't wrong though.

Dipper trudged down the stairs first, wanting to be witness to this disaster of a business pitch his sister was about to initiate. He looked around for a moment. It was eerily quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the clicking of a keyboard from the kitchen and hushed arguing. They obviously didn't want to be heard but they sucked at it, frankly.

He sighed and flattened his fingers against his hips to stick them into his pockets. He took a step towards the kitchen before jumping at a loud yell that startled him from head to toe. Of course it was Grunkle Stan's voice. Dipper rushed into the kitchen to see what was going on.

"Grunkle Stan?!" Dipper yelled, his hands gripping the doorway in terror. "Are you okay?!"

Ford and Stan looked to their nephew, confused about why he was so startled. They were huddled around a laptop on the kitchen table. Stan was sitting in front of the computer and Ford standing but leaned down to read what was on the screen.

"Are you okay, kid?" Stan asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Dipper slowed his breathing to a normal pace before laughing it off. "Y-Yeah. I'm A-OK! I just..." He trailed off.

"Dipper, it's alright," Ford said as he walked up to his nephew and placed a solid hand on his shoulder. "We're just..." He looked back at his brother, who shook his head slowly, his mouth a hard line and his eyebrows flat. Ford turned his attention back to Dipper.

"Stan's trying online dating. He says he wants to have a date to your birthday party. I don't care about that sort of thing personally but..."

"SIXER!" Stan blurted as he started blushing furiously, hunching over the computer. "Always openin your mouth..." he grumbled to himself, knowing full well they both could hear him. "I just wanted to make a FRIEND that's not my brother, you kids, or Soos. Can't an old coot want that for himself?"

Ford and Dipper looked at each other with the same intrigued expression. Dipper straightened himself up and nodded.

"Yeah. You can definitely want that for yourself," he answered. "Have you...had any luck?" Dipper asked cautiously.

"Not really," Stan said curtly. He knew online dating at his age would be tedious but not _this_ bad.

"Actually, Dipper," Ford interjected. "Someone just messaged him back. Eagerly," he said, shooting a grin at Stan.

"Shut your trap! We don't even know if she's a real person," Stan grumbled as he typed on the laptop on front of them. "Or if she's a...what is it? Dogwhale?"

"Catfish," Ford and Dipper corrected in unison.

Stan looked at his brother and nephew, squinting his eyes at them. "Sometimes I wonder who's Sixer's twin here. Me or you, kid. Aside from the fact you look like The Cure meets Marilyn Manson these days." He turned back to the computer and continued typing.

"How do you know who Marilyn Manson is?" Dipper asked with much confusion in his voice.

"Don't worry about it, kid," Stan dismissed. "It's a good look on you."

Dipper blushed and rubbed the back of his neck shyly. "Oh! Thanks," he said quietly, looking around the room nervously. "It's a new thing."

"Some of the smartest people I knew in college were goths," Ford added. "Keep up the good work...er...look...Yeah." Ford looked between the other two and left the room quickly out of embarrassment.

"GRRUUNNKKKLLLEEE STAANNNNNN!!!" Mabel squealed as she rushed past Dipper into the kitchen with her blazer on haphazardly. She very obviously didn't know how to put it on to fit her correctly but that didn't stop her from trying.

Stan turned to look at Mabel who was standing there eagerly with a book under her right arm. He couldn't help but smile at his niece still being the same silly person she always has been. It always warmed every corner of his heart. Even though he'd never admit it.

"What's up, kid?" He asked as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his left ankle over his right knee.

ding!

"So! I have a proposition for you!" Mabel said as she pulled her book out and opened it.

ding!

"What is that?" Mabel asked curiously as she stepped forward towards Stan and the laptop.

"Nothing!!" Stan said as he slammed the laptop closed.

"Stan's doing online dating," Dipper said without thinking. He made a small noise then covered his mouth quickly.

There was an unsettling silence at first followed by a loud shriek of excitement followed by Mabel jumping up and down with the book still in her hands. "GRUNKLE STAN NO WAY! NOOOOO WAAAAYYY!! AH, I'M SO EXCITED FOR YOU!"

Stan and Dipper both covered their ears.

"Alright, alright, kid. That's enough. It's no big deal."

"IT IS SO A BIG DEAL!!! Have you met anyone yet? Did you ask anyone on a date?" Mabel asked rapidly.

"No and no," Stan said simply.

Mabel's entire disposition changed when he answered. "Oh... Well those dings from the computer sound promising! There was a lot of them too. Maybe it's multiple women trying to get your attention?"

"No. It's...It's one woman. I just met her," Stan said as he opened the laptop back up and went to the woman's profile. "Says here she's an artist, she loves period pieces, and loves all things Halloween. Don't really get the last part but the first two things? It makes her the dame of my dreams," he sighed with a smile. He quickly reigned himself back in and cleared his throat.

"Anyways, we're just...chattin right now. That's all. It probably won't even last a day. She's too good to be true. She's probably a...wazzit called, Dip?"

"Catfish," Dipper answered quickly.

"Yeah that. She's probably a catfish," Stan said sadly.

"Grunkle Stan," Mabel said softly as she walked over to him and sat her book down on the table. "I know you've led a hard life but you deserve happiness. So don't shoot it down before it's even had the chance to take flight," she advised wisely, placing her hand on his shoulder.

"Wise words, kid," Stan said, accepting her advice. "I'll...give it a chance."

"YAY!!" Mabel squealed as she clapped her hands happily.

Stan's gaze snapped to the book in front of them. "Wazzat?" he asked, pointing with his chin. "And why the hell are you wearing a blazer? And wearin it like...that?"

A huge grin slowly spread across Mabel's face, showing every single color in her braces, at Stan's sudden interest. "Grunkle Stan...do I have a proposition for you!"

#gravity falls #gravity falls fandom #stanley pines #original character #Stan Pines x OC #online dating #Mabel Pines #Dipper Pines #stanford pines #fanfiction #fanfic #romance #ocs #oc insert #self insert #self indulgent #bill cipher

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prettypinkporkchop · 3 days

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Love u hunny❤️ love reading ur stories can I request one where Paul was ur bully in high school and u haven’t seen him since graduation where he made u cry then u see him at the grocery store and try to avoid him but he sees u and when u make eye contact he starts following u everywhere but of course u don’t forgive him to easy u make him work for it until he’s begging on his knees for u

I LOVE YOU TOO BABES! I GOTCHU!

Flashback:

You sit outside at the Cullen's house. Your party dress is soaked with beer because Paul poured it on you. You are crying, waiting for your parent to pick you up.

Paul tried to flirt with you, but to him, you turned out to be a prude. Now, he hates you. Your outfits are ugly. You're ugly, at least that's what he says.

His favorite things to do are taunt you. Fake flirt with you and laugh with his friends. He bumps into you and makes you fall on the floor.

One time, he bought you a drink from the vending machine, but he put mentos in it, so it exploded in your face.

Now:

You're holding the basket, looking at meats to cook. You feel eyes on the back of your head. It confuses you, so you turn and make eye contact with Paul Lahote.

Your heart speeds up, and you hold your breath. You quickly turn away and drop your basket. You're not even worried about anything else but leaving.

You run out, turning back to see Paul walking quickly. You speed up and get inside your car. You look back to see he stopped and is watching you.

--------

You open your door and slam it shut. You slide down, breathing really hard in panic. You start sobbing.

You thought moving further away from Forks would save you. You were so wrong.

You hear a knock on your door. You jump up up and answer the door.

Paul.

"I'm sorry. For everything." He says. You slam the door in his face.

You back away slowly. But you can hear him behind the door. "I need to talk to you. This is important." He says.

You ignore him completely. You walk away from your door and take a deep breath in and out. Suddenly, you feel the urge to actually let him speak. But, you're scared. But you two aren't teens anymore. Come on. Suck it up.

You step to the door and open it. Paul's face lights up. God, he looks so different. His hair is cut, and he's so... big.

"What do you have to say?" You lean on the door.

He looks over every detail of your face in awe of you. He coughs slightly and then shifts his feet. "I just want to say I regret the things I've said and done to you. They aren't right at all. I've changed, and I was really hoping I could make it up to you." He doesn't lose eye contact.

Your hands start to sweat. Is he for real right now? You have to gather all of the words you want to say. It takes a few minutes of staring at his face before it comes to you. "Paul, look. I appreciate whatever you're trying to do here, but you've hurt me. You've hurt me a lot. I still to this day feel like I'm nothing. And it's solely on you." You were surprised by how you stood up. You seemed so confident, but deep down, you wanted to curl in a ball and hide.

You notice a change in his face. He looks genuinely upset and guilty. His wipes over his face, and then his fingers hold his chin before falling next to his side. "I understand. I know. I'll do whatever I can to fix this." He says.

"Why do you want to? Why are you here?" You ask with attitude.

"Because, seeing you again, I realized something. I don't want you to hurt. You're not supposed to hurt around me or because of me."

You are confused as hell and don't understand what he means by that. He notices your confusion and then reaches out his hand for you to shake.

"I will tell you everything you need to know. But can you please give me a chance to start over with you." He begs.

You stare at his hand. He's so attractive. The way his veins and muscles look. Damn it, Lahote! Why now?

You shake your head and back away. "No. Not now." You shut the door.

You walk into your room and lay in your bed.

The next day, you wake up and check your phone. You have a message from an unsaved number.

Number: ayo, it's Quil. Remember me? Haha. Well, I was just wondering if this is still your number from school. If it is, hello! Can we talk about something?

Quil Ateara?! What?!

You haven't changed your number in years. This is a weird surprise. Quil was a good friend of yours. Along with Jacob, Embry, and Bella. You haven't spoken to any of them in YEARS.

You: Hey! Long time, friend. It's still me. What's up?

Quil: awesome! Well first off, how ya been?

You: I've been good. Moved out of the house when I turned 19. I have a good job. Life is peaceful. How are you?

Quil: well, a lot has changed. A looottttt. But it's okay! I heard you ran into Paul.

You: how do you know?

Quil: he told me. We are good friends now. Trust me, he's not the same guy he was back in school.

You: it was good talking to you. Lmk if you need anything.

You left it at that. What the hell?

You get out of bed and get ready for the day. You sit on your computer, doing check-ins for your job.

Your phone rings so you answer it. "Yup?" You ask.

"Hey, can you come into the office today? I have a side quest for you." Your coworker giggles. Oh gosh, Jessica. What does she need now?

"Well, I was supposed to work at home today. What do you need?" You ask.

"Girl, our boss is so flirting with me. I need backup. Should I ask him out?" She whispers.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. "Jess, he's like 50. And that's not even allowed!" You laugh.

"Please come in!" She begs.

The drama would be fucking hilarious to see. "Fine." You say.

You head out of the house and go to the office. You park in your usual parking spot. A truck you've never seen before pulls up next to you. You squint to see who it is. They get out of the truck and it's fucking PAUL.

"Paul, what are you doing here?" You sigh in annoyance.

"I just wanted to give this to you." He says, walking around the car to you. It's your favorite flower. Did he remember your presentation in biology?

"Oh, thank you. I've got to go inside." You take it from him and turn around to walk inside. You're smiling, enjoying the attention Paul is giving you.

He's always been attractive to you, but now, it's extra. You can tell he has changed. But, you're not ready to get over the past yet.

You go inside and head to Jessica's station. She's not there. You look over to see everyone huddled over at the boss' door, listening.

Oh yeah, she got fired.

----

You get home from the store and notice a note on your door. You grab it and read it.

"Y/n, I think you're a wonderful person. I'm sorry and I'll say it forever."

The note actually made your heart soften for him. But, you can't give in.

----

You're at work, typing away. It's been a terrible day. Since Jessica got fired, all of her jobs have been put on you. Things are piling up.

There's a knock on your station wall. You look up and see a coworker. "Jesus, you scared me." You sigh.

"Sorry! Someone sent you something." He places it on your desk.

It's a black box. You slowly open it. Inside is a handmade bracelet. It's so pretty. Then, there's a note.

"I'm sorry."

---

You get home and see that familiar truck pull in behind you. Paul quickly gets out and walks over to you.

"What now?" You ask. You notice he is shirtless. His abs are crazy and he has a tattoo on his shoulder.

"Look, i.. I need to tell you something." He seems scared.

You decide to let him speak.

"I actually don't want you to think I'm crazy. Do you want to come to a bonfire with me tonight?" He asks.

"Not really." You scoff.

"It's just me and the guys. It's at the rez. We just talk over the tribes legends. This is very important." He urges.

"Fine. But no funny business." You say sternly.

"Yes, ma'am. I promise." He says genuinely. "I'll pick you up in an hour or so whenever you're ready." He goes to walk to his truck.

"Hey, no. That's too much driving. Just come inside and wait for me to get ready." You say.

He stops and looks at you with surprise. He follows you inside and looks around the house. You point to the couch and then go into your room. You leave him alone in there while you get ready.

You step out and see him sitting on the couch, thinking. "Ready." You say.

He jumps out of his thoughts and smiles up at you. "You look stunning." He gushes.

You can't help but blush and look away. "Thanks. Can we go?"

-----

You sit at the fire listening to Billy Black talk. Paul has been following you around the place. Every step you take, he's right behind you. But you've met some awesome people! Plus, you rekindled with Jacob, Embry, and Quil.

"The wolf in us can sense what humans can't. We must be ready for what is to come. It doesn't stop here. The quiet is only for a moment. Hold onto your imprints, your family, and friends. We don't know what could happen." Billy warns.

You turn to look at Paul. You're so confused. HUH!

After that, you sit in Paul's truck, waiting for him to take you back home. He finally gets in the drivers seat and sighs. "It's all true." He said.

"What, you're a wolf? You cut your hair, got buff, and got a tattoo just like your friends?" You scoff.

"It's serious. Vampires and shifters are real. And you're my imprint." He looks at you.

Your chest is starting to hurt. What have you gotten yourself into?

You're staring at his beautiful face. You're just falling in love. You have to stay strong. "Take me home, please." You say.

You open the door, slam it shut, and head to your house. Meanwhile, behind you, there's a begging, Paul. "Please don't leave me like this. I'll do anything for you. You are my world. I want to show you that." He calls out.

You stop in your tracks and turn to him. Before you can speak, he falls to his knees. "Y/n, let me love you." You can see a tear shed.

A switch flips in you. "Paul, can you show me?"

He looks up at you. "My.. wolf?"

You nod your head in response. He reaches out his hand for you to grab. You hesitate, but slip your fingers under his thumb. His big and warm hands fill you up with butterflies. You can't help but stare at how your hand fits in his.

But he starts walking, bringing you to the backyard of your house. He stops and backs away from you. "Stay right there. Don't get too close. I'm going to take off some of my clothes. You can turn around or close your eyes."

You turn your heels and face the other way, looking at the trees. You hear cracking and growling. You turn around. On the ground is a pile of clothes and shoes. In front of you stands a dark gray wolf. It is huge! You look into the brown eyes, and instantly, you feel Paul. The wolf whimpers and lowers its head.

After that ordeal, you're sitting on your couch, listening to Paul explain everything. You watch as his lips move. You just want to kiss him now.

You're zoned out. You lean in, interrupting him, and kiss him. He's in shock but grabs the back of your head and kisses you back. God his lips. They're moving in sync with yours. You can't pull away. No, you can't. You want more. You start to move your body closer, about to straddle his lap but he stops you, grabbing your hips. He pulls away and chuckles.

"No, no. That's another time, beautiful." He smirks.

You blush deeply and bite your lip, staring at him. "It all makes sense." You whisper.

#twilight #jacob black #jared cameron #embry call #sam uley #paul lahote #seth clearwater #twilight wolfpack #quil ateara #leah clearwater #paul lahote x reader

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heartbeatbookclub · 2 days

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inspired by the crying headcanons ask, how do you think the girls are like when angry? we do kind of see some of them get infuriated sometimes in the side stories but im curious if you have any extra thoughts on it

I'm just going to kinda rapid fire this because I don't like it sitting here, but I've been too busy and in a weird headspace to really take the time for it. If this ends up malformed or weird, I apologize. I've done a bit of thought on it though

Sayori generally keeps herself on an even keel. It's hard to really piss her off with anything which would typically anger someone, because she has a general kill them with kindness mindset (and if you do something like insult her, or try to start shit, she's more likely to assume that she's doing something wrong, so she'll beat herself up instead). That said, she does have her pet peeves (like when someone leaves the water on while brushing their teeth! you aren't using that right now, you're just wasting water!), and she does have certain buttons you probably shouldn't press.

Namely, Sayori really values other people, especially those close to her, and places a lot of trust in them. To be honest with her, to be good people, and to take care of themselves. If you fail the latter two, she will be disappointed with you, and maybe even a little angry dependent on the circumstance and how she learns about it. That disappointment hurts a lot worse, though. Of course, when it comes to taking care of yourself, she understands how that could be difficult, and will help you as much as she can, but she really wants you to value yourself as much as she does.

The former of the three, she'll get angry. Sayori isn't the type to go shouting mad (well, unless she's getting mad at mario kart or something), or the type to really share strong words. She's got that tranquil fury down pat. If you do something you know she won't be happy with, that's one thing. If you lie about it to her face, and take advantage of her trust, she'll take some time apart from you. She'll push you away until she can calm down and really think about how she wants to respond. She's not one to hold grudges; revenge isn't her forte, but when she faces that kind of betrayal, it's really hard for her to look at someone the same way.

Monika can be very passive aggressive. Yknow, that kind of backhanded, half-sarcastic passive aggressive. As a side effect of being a people-pleaser, Monika is averse to conflict generally, and would prefer to seek a more reasonable compromise in any given situation as opposed to some blow-out confrontation, and absent that, when she gets aggravated, she tries to be civil, but ends up being cattier than she intends.

If it does end up escalating to a more serious argument, if tensions are running high, Monika feels very uncomfortable. She's not one to escalate into a shouting match, she's not the type to start peppering her speech with colorful language adding with rage, she tries to keep herself under control as much as she can.

Still, she might slip up. And losing that control makes her feel even worse about it, makes her more emotional in general, and when she gets to that point, I think she'd probably say something she might regret. Definitely has moments where she cries from how angry she is about something, and realizes she needs to take a walk to get away from the situation.

Yuri tends to be strongly opinionated, but about some strange and specific things. She tries to keep from voicing these opinions when they aren't asked for or needed, just to keep everything smooth socially, but if asked, she will be blunt about her thoughts even while trying to be polite, because if they want her honest opinion, then being honest, she does feel that bluntly about it. The fact that she doesn't let on until asked makes it feel harsher than it actually is.

Yuri generally tries to keep herself under control in a similar vein to Monika, except that rather than trying to use some sort of conflict resolution, she prefers to just leave it as is. Just stop talking about it, maybe leave, whatever. Of course, she feels so strongly about her view and that it's correct that sometimes her mouth moves before her brain, and she feels the need to get the last word in, which often escalates the situation.

Yuri gets pretty easily overwhelmed emotionally, and her strong feelings about a given topic can quickly bubble over and force her to act in certain off-putting ways before she even realizes what she's doing or saying. She has a tendency to start yelling, to start saying a lot more hurtful things and use more caustic language generally. Without a mediator, she's wont to get into a loop of just continual anger and have it just ruin her day. Of course, after that, if she really thinks about it, she regrets it completely and feels terrible. (Unless they actually deserve it. Even then, she might think she could've gone about it better...)

That habit of bottling it up also has a tendency to create some outbursts if things become too overwhelming, though that's more likely to result in a combination of this sort of behavior and what I described when talking about them crying. That's da dawg in her ('tism)

Natsuki tends to be reflexively angry, or reflexively mean at the very least. I've talked about this at length before, but she pushes people away in general and tries to harden herself wholly so that nobody can ever hurt her. I've dwelt for a while on what I think that actually means about her life (namely her home life) but you can read my thoughts on that elsewhere.

She's got a tendency to just complain about a lot of different stuff which annoys her or makes her uncomfortable. She makes no secret of her opinions or thoughts on any variety of things, which might get her into trouble in some circumstances, but generally she's just very opinionated without much dedicated thought to it.

If you really get her going though, she has a lot of smart-mouthed comebacks and sharp barbs to lob back and forth. Also she starts swearing a lot more. She does her best to come out on top by keeping her anger in check, but she definitely indulges in it a fair bit. Sometimes too much. Sometimes she gets overwhelmed, and when she gets really, really mad, she also definitely starts crying, and she moreso than anyone finds that really embarrassing, because it's a sign of weakness in that kind of scenario.

#this resulted in a lot more thoughts than i expected...i have some new ideas to work with #ddlc monika #ddlc sayori #ddlc yuri #ddlc natsuki #ddlc #doki doki literature club #asks #my headcanons #thanks for the ask! <3

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hms-no-fun · 5 hours

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i have an intense love/hate with godfeels because it is beautifully written but it also makes me viscerally uncomfortable. something something disturbs the comfortable and comforts the disturbed probably. engaging with that discomfort teaches me more about myself and is definitely worth it for something like godfeels. any advice for constructively engaging with media that Pisses You Off, by no fault of the creator? what would you say to your haters in good-faith, if you could?

well, to be fair i have said plenty to my haters in good faith previously, but that was a very direct response. if you and i were having a polite conversation amongst the two of us, my first question would be "how far did you get?" godfeels has been going for six years now (!!!), and it's gone through many phases in that time. i'm at a point now in my life where if someone tells me gf2 didn't click with them, i'll probably nod and say "yeah it's rough around the edges, there's a lot of stuff i'd do differently today." the most vocal contingent of haters i've ever gotten were the handful of people who dipped at gf2.2 when june got superdrunk and accidentally murdered a bunch of people, assuming the story was going to be about how cool and based that decision was. anyone who's actually read gf2 to completion should find that misconception laughable. it also makes a difference if you finished gf2 and stopped there, or started 3.1 and fell off, or if you got through chapter 8 and fell off, or if you're currently reading Double Album. each of those is a slightly different conversation with its own pros and cons. whether or not i'd try to talk someone into continuing their read depends entirely on those questions (and also how self-confident i'm feeling in the moment).

i guess i would say to someone who is not enjoying godfeels that they should stop reading godfeels. it's an extremely heavy story that digs into a wide variety of traumatic subject matter. it is also deeply personal in a lot of ways, which is perhaps a weird fit for a Homestuck fanfiction. so i can understand someone from the wider fandom hearing about godfeels as "the June Egbert fic" being disappointed that it's not fluff. i've documented in the past how gf2 emerged out of my dissatisfaction with the image of "Hairclips June," whose transition exists off screen and whose acceptance by her friends is an obvious expectation. i kind of feel bad for how that shook out in the long term since, between the lengthy hiatus of hs2 and the broader strangulation of the post-canon movement during the pandemic, the canonical "Hairclips June" story (or at least "June Who Doesn't Suffer 100% Consequences" story) doesn't seem to exist. i don't mean literally canonical, i mean "seeped into the fandom's collective unconscious" canonical, like Detective Pony. there are plenty of fanworks that do a good or at least interesting job with June, but they're not *about* June in quite the same way godfeels is. it's entirely possible that such a thing DOES exist and IS popular (i freely admit to being out of touch with modern fanworks), but for better or worse godfeels still seems to be the thing that comes up most often-- and not always in a positive light.

for a while now i've been working on an "Author's Introduction" which on the surface is an attempt to contextualize the phases of godfeels for new readers, but in actuality is more of a history of/commentary on the post-2019 fandom and the so-called "Homestuck Renaissance." i see this as necessary because godfeels is an extension of that moment, in particular the loudly recuperative pro-Vriska boosters and their exquisitely galaxy-brained VrisRezi meta. then gf3.1 responded to the fandom backlash, chapter 8 responded to my experience watching every foundation of my post-transition life crumble during the pandemic, and then Double Album is an exploration of building yourself and community back up in the aftermath of tragedy.

it's not that this context is necessary to understand or appreciate godfeels, just that i think it helps put things in perspective. when i started gf1, i hadn't written fiction in nearly 7 years. today, the series is sitting just shy of the 500,000 word mark. at every step of the process, the quality and ambition of my writing has increased exponentially. there's a reason i've written Double Album as a jumping-on point for new readers-- besides being better in virtually every way that matters to me, it's also largely shorn free of the baggage that can make godfeels a hard sell for folks. whether or not it actually SUCCEEDS as a jumping on point is another conversation entirely.

so i guess all of that is to say, if we were having a private conversation just the two of us, i freely admit that godfeels is a wildly disjointed story on top of being extreme and often emotionally masochistic. i am proud of this work from start to finish, but it fundamentally is the process of its authorship in a way that a thoroughly drafted and edited novel simply isn't. i used to publish chapters the instant they felt done to me, with only minimal revisions. these days i let chapters bake a lot longer and put much more thought into how they fit into the larger whole. i kinda miss the old way but the new way results in much better work.

i'd be curious to hear what exactly it is that Pisses You Off about godfeels, and why you nevertheless feel it's a worthwhile reading experience. you ask me for advice on how to constructively engage with media that pisses you off, but i don't have any because in general i don't engage with media that pisses me off. i stopped reading fanworks after 2020 because everything that survived seemed to cater only to the sector of the fandom that harassed my friends out of their jobs and platforms. i found their interpretations/extensions of canon lacking, their tendency for straightforward fluff rather grating. i COULD have made that everyone else's problem, but what would be the point? i wasn't the target audience. i didn't enjoy the work, so i stopped reading it. i'd rather move on to media i enjoy than suffer through media i don't.

BUT. there's a fine line here, because it actually takes a lot to Piss Me Off. i don't really believe in rules or standards in art as Inviolable Laws Of Nature. my measure of whether something is good has a lot less to do with its inherent quality and a lot more to do with the balance between intention and execution. it rarely matters how amateur something is, if it meaningfully accomplishes the thing it set out to do then i'll probably like it (or at least respect it). i look for expressions of authenticity, moments where the artist and the medium are in perfect sync. there are plenty of critically praised pretty-looking movies and games with big production values that i don't particularly like. sometimes that's because they're a naked moneymaking enterprise disguised as art. sometimes it's a problem of too many cooks in the kitchen. and then sometimes an artist is just full of shit and doesn't really know what the hell they're talking about (i like to call these people "Californians"). mostly, i just embrace that art-making and art-viewing are inherently subjective experiences, and i find little value in numbered rating systems of any kind.

a lot of my favorite movies and albums underwhelmed me my first time through. they challenged me in a way that i at first interpreted as incompetence, but have come to see as brilliance. there's stuff i found alienating in high school and early 20s that i find deeply relatable in my 30s. as a film student i've had so many conversations with so many people who have wildly different takes on the same movie that i've completely given up on the idea that anyone is an objective arbiter of what's good and what isn't. the only real thing is if it works and if it works for you. i search for the best in everything, because at the end of the day i'm just here for the love of the game and i don't much enjoy hating things. for media to really Piss Me Off, to elicit a genuine I Hate You response, it has to be more than just, like, poorly edited or whatever. it has to embody a repulsive worldview, be a tool of jingoistic propaganda, or otherwise act as an extension of corporate greed and wealth extraction. these days i reserve my hatred for that which has connection to real Power and exerts a mass cultural Influence, or that otherwise blindly reproduces the same problems.

i think it's far easier to critically engage with work you don't like when you search for the things that work, rather than the things that don't. when it works, when it really clicks, you see what they were going for, and only with that perspective can you see why what doesn't work doesn't work. all i ever ask is for readers to take my stuff as it is, good and bad, and judge it on those terms. i find your use of "comforts the disturbed, disturbs the comfortable" funny and fitting. art that wants to be for everyone is art that cannot be for anyone. it is a perfectly round grey sphere that all who gaze upon it can agree "exists" and "succeeds at what it's trying to do." good art is imperfect, because it is the result of a perspective you may not share. i've never wanted to make art for the masses. i want to make the kinds of things that i wished existed when i was younger. there are a surprising number of people who feel that godfeels positively affected their lives, and i know that i have very little to do with that. godfeels is an object that exists in the world. i had ideas of what it was when i wrote it, but i can't control what anyone else sees no matter how much digital ink i spill trying to explain my original vision. if it truly comforts the disturbed and disturbs the comfortable, then on some level i must have succeeded in what i was trying to do even if the path to getting there was spotty and rough.

i did the best i could at every stage of writing godfeels. i would do things differently today, but i also wouldn't be here at all if i'd done it differently back then. i try to extend this grace to other artists as much as possible, that we're all just figuring it out as we go along. but i also know that everyone goes to art for different things, and finds value in different aspects of its expression. really, all i ever want is to have a conversation about the object without the looming specter of Respectability Politics and Moral Hazards. it's when people start acting like godfeels is Dangerous, and that i'm dangerous by extension, that i start having opinions about where critics are fucking up. tell me what it does or fails to do. point at the text and show me you've read and comprehended it by citing your sources and arguing through the text instead of around it. absolutely fuck off with the moral hand-wringing about Transgender Representation and Glorifying Violence and Perpetuating Toxic Stereotypes. it's a fucking Homestuck fanfiction, for god's sake.

but anyway you're not doing that, so, good job! i'm glad you find the experience of reading godfeels illuminating even if it pisses you off. i hope you found this lengthy answer enlightening, and maybe a bit annoying also. consistency is key, or so they say

#godfeels #sarahposts #homestuck #fanfiction #homestuck fandom #writing advice #critic advice #askbox #june egbert #i always reach the end of these like “did i actually answer the question?”#and then hit publish anyway because LOOK AT THAT #like hell i'm gonna read that shit!#i've got no time to second draft a tumblr post about godfeels #i'm too busy actually working on godfeels

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lizardsfromspace · 2 days

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Okay, this is the conclusion to my posts about Sophia Stewart. I'll never do something like this again

Everything I've posted is from her own book or her web presence btw. That's all I'm drawing from and if anyone tells me any information about her they gained any other way I'll block them immediately so uh, don't

Towards the end she reveals some of her other pitches. By showing she copywrote sequels to the Matrix and Terminator

Lots of strange details here - she wrote The Matrix 4 in 2000? They didn't even start filming The Matrix 2 & 3 until 2001. Also, we can see in this book that her pitch has nothing to do with The Matrix or Terminator, but she claims she wrote direct sequels to both?

(Her explanation for how both very different films are ripping off her work - a 1:1 copy, she claims - is, hilariously, that The Terminator plagiarizes it front to back, while The Matrix plagiarizes it back to front. What?)

But also she didn't write it. She registered copyright on a synopsis for The Matrix 4. She has concepts of a plan for a Matrix 4.

The book ends with a pitch for another...she calls it a book, but it's a movie pitch? And this, too, is just a synopsis for some grand epic series, light on detail of character and plot and heavy with lore and rants (in this case, primarily about God and Adam & Eve). Of course her exhaustively long but barely sketched-out epic movie pitch has a prologue, which is also full of Christian-tinged Ancient Aliens pyramid power woo.

Sophia Stewart is unimportant, bc she represents a class of writer. Writers who have Ideas. Who have outlines and plot points but no real story, bc they never write it. But they think just having Really Good Ideas is enough - that you should get credit for coming up with a good idea for a story, regardless of if you make an actual story out of it. They're a "writer", but they never write. Despite this they often have a deep case of Dunning-Kruger, churning out outlines that leave out basic details like "what happens in the climactic battle" and the personalities of characters while insisting that an inability to author anything shouldn't keep you from being praised as a genius author

If that type of person is lucky enough to have money, they become a studio executive or tech guy, both professions awash in the uncreatively creative, or they hire ghostwriters. If they're not, they become the type of person to file spurious lawsuits under the misapprehension they own basic plot concepts. It's the "I coulda made the majors!" of writing, except, you know. Baseball players who didn't make the majors still actually played baseball at some point. I assume from now on all those types will just pump their outline into ChatGPT and try to sell the gunk it slops out and then claim they 'wrote' it so uh, uhhhhhhhhhhhh

The only reason I made these posts was discovering the conspiratorial angle to her work, bc who cares if a major studio has to deal with a spurious lawsuit? That was the part that actually sucks. But also, she does a lot of press: profiles on news websites, podcasts, that documentary was even made by other filmmakers, who actually make films. It's persisted from blogs and chain emails all the way to podcasts and TikToks. All of this uncritically spreads her story, but I also have to ask: how many actual African-American science fiction writers do those platforms profile? How many of them get documentaries made about their work? How much air is being sucked out of the room by the decades long misinformation about the "true" creator of The Matrix? And why is that misinformation so persistent when it takes a trivial amount of effort to find out it just isn't true? It feels good to support the underdog against the big studio, but in this case it just isn't true.

The sad truth is a lot more Hollywood plagiarism cases look like this than are real exposures of wrongdoing, but people tend to accept them at face value since they feel like a little guy taking on a corporation, though in reality it's just two writers suing each other. Take The Holdovers case, where people immediately turned on it, but if you look into it, the two scripts have very little in common, and the accusing writer makes odd claims like a human character in The Holdovers being a ripoff of a billboard in his script.

Or look at Groundhog Day, which was accused of plagiarism by Richard A. Lupoff, writer of the story "12:01 P.M.". The two stories have nothing in common besides a time loop; in Groundhog Day he's reliving a day, in 12:01 PM he's reliving an hour. Groundhog Day is a romcom, 12:01 P.M. plays it for horror. Groundhog Day never reveals the source of its lop but it's clearly fantastical in nature, 12:01 P.M. is explicitly science fiction. In Groundhog Day he escapes the loop, in 12:01 P.M. he never does. You can't deny Lupoff felt personally slighted, but at the end of the day, a world where a writer could own the concept of time loops would be a dystopia where creativity and art would die.

But even though they were wrong, The Holdovers & Groundhog Day cases were based on real works of writing that existed. They were based on a real, if misguided, sense of violation from the writers. But in this case, we have a mere outline of a story with not even basic similarities to the stories she's claiming are a 1:1 copy of her work, and decades of media appearances based on exploiting a community college media student's mistake in 2004. Anyway seems bad

#the matrix #writing #film #movies #long post #plagiarism #sophia stewart

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madelynraemunson · 5 hours

Text

HEY MADDY, WHAT’S ON TV? 📺

𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 (…𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬) part 1/2

🥡 steddie x freaky friday fanfiction • RATED: NC-17 🥡

SUMMARY: Dustin’s science experiment goes horribly wrong and his two ‘bickering besties’ have to suffer the consequences.

WORD COUNT: 11.4k words

CONTENTS CONTAIN: (EASTER) EGGS, WHEAT, METAL, PARALLELISMS, A PINCH OF COMEDY, ANGST, AND LOTS OF SWEARING

ALLERGENS: CHEESY, CORN(Y), SHELLFISH (sorry eddie)

author's note: might put this on ao3 idk this one's a big boi.... hey y'all! i’m a little late to the steddie body swap train, but have arrived nonetheless! also i’m so stoked that jamie lee curtis and lindsay lohan are currently working on a freaky friday 2!! one of my fave childhood movies and i can’t believe we’re getting a parte dos :,) also, jake alan = corroded coffin in this AU

🥠

“Jesus Chr— what did you do to my hair?!”

“What did you do to MINE?!”

Perhaps a rewind is necessary. Metaphorically, of course. Time travel’s not real! ;)

◄ ◄ ◄ R E W I N D 🎞️

The year is 1989. Camp Knowhere. And since it’s the last year before he ages out of summer camp, Dustin Henderson is determined to 'WOW' everyone with his newest invention.

“They’re kinda like boner pills.”

“Oh...! WOW...?”

It’s not the weirdest thing Steve's heard come out of Dustin's mouth. In fact, he's practically immune to insanity at this point, having been surrounded by hormone-driven teenagers for a month and a half straight.

“Look I know, it sounds crazy,” Dustin pleads. “But imagine being able to walk a mile in someone's shoes just by eating a cookie. They'd be like the Viagras of empathy!"

Again, not the weirdest thing Dustin has said.

And for as long as Curly keeps hanging out with Eddie Munson, his Other Older Male Friend (O.O.M.F.) constantly like he has been all summer, it certainly won’t be the last.

Being a volunteer camp counselor hasn’t panned out as expected for Steve Harrington.

For the past six weeks, Dustin has spent most of his time locked in his cabin trying to perfect his new creation. But he's been MIA for so long, Steve hasn’t been able to teach him how to start a fire, pitch a tent, or even pick Dustin's brain about being his guest for Show and Tell.

Making s’mores. Canoeing. Telling scary stories in the dark. Dustin and Steve are missing out on actual summer activities. The real reason he signed up to be counselor in the first place.

But you know who has been able to spend time with Dustin?

"Eddie and I spent almost every night trying to come up with good fortunes," Henderson boasts.

Not the counselor, but the Certified Loiterer.

Steve bitterly kisses his teeth. “That’s awesome, man! But hey, speaking of spending—"

"They are so clever too. You gotta hear 'em!"

"I'm sure they are! But now that you're practically finished, I was sorta hoping—"

“AND,” Dustin adds. “if you get a good one you can add ‘in bed’ after for some comic relief.”

Steve crosses his arms as he finds himself fading back into silence.

“You are destined for great adventures…in bed,” Curly smirks, waving a fortune in Steve’s face. “You will be met with great luck this week... in bed. You are a pleasure to have around…in bed.”

“Agh, please tell me one of Harrington’s lays said that,” comes a voice. “Otherwise this interaction is very concerning.”

Dustin gasps. “EDDIE!”

Speaking of The Devil.

Like nails on a chalkboard, in walks Eddie Munson with his fucked up voice, fucked up rep, fucked up hair, and a fucked up sense of humor to match.

“Hey, Henderson,” Eddie gives a curt nod. “Hey, Steve.”

“Munson.”

“I was just telling Steve about my fortune cookies,” says Dustin. “I can’t wait to win people’s hearts over at Show and Tell, along with my spotlight secret weapon.”

“What’s your spotlight secret weapon?” Steve inquires.

“You’re looking at him,” Eddie quips. “I’m Dustin’s music act for his Show and Tell.”

There’s a pang in Steve’s heart that he wishes wasn’t there. All summer, the Retired Cub Scout had been secretly hoping that Dustin would ask him to be his Show and Tell buddy. He had so many survival skills up his sleeve that he wanted the little twerps to know before they age out.

But the stars had other plans, he supposes.

“My friend’s friend’s dad is a music scout for Cardinal Records,” Dustin explains. “If he shows up and sees Eddie play, Corroded Coffin may have a chance!”

“Yup,” Eddie nods. “We’re performing our new song Take Me Away.”

He hands Steve a piece of crinkled paper from his back pocket, to which Steve reads after clearing the lump marinating in his throat.

“Don’t wanna grow up, I wanna get out. Hey, take me away,” Steve reads.

“Aren’t the lyrics so metal?!” Dustin beams in admiration.

“They’re uh, very edgy…” Steve shrugs.

“And incredibly fitting, when you consider the circumstances. Just wait ‘til you hear Eddie and his band perform it!”

“I think I’ll be busy with camp duties...” Steve grimaces, handing the sheet back over to Eddie. “Sorry.”

“No worries, they will just perform in your garage. They still gotta practice. Been needing another place to do so too."

Steve's eyes widen.

“What?!” he shakes his head. “Absolutely not. When did we agree on this?”

“Uh, beginning of summer?" Dustin points out. "You said you’d be willing to accommodate any of my needs. Especially since my mom’s gone to her spicy book retreat and basically threw away keys to the house.”

Steve now recalls telling Dustin that. But nowhere did it say babysitting his replacement would be in the cards.

"I'm sorry Harrington, I know I'm kinda butting in…" Eddie acknowledges.

Finally, something he and Steve can agree on.

"But we're kinda desperate at the moment, so it would mean the world. You won't even know we're there."

“It’s still no!” Harrington blubbers. “Okay? With the loud music and Eddie’s screaming, I’ll have the Loch Nora book club moms with pitchforks at my door. We have a reputation to uphold.”

“Who’s to say the Loch Nora moms don’t want in on all the angsty fun?” Eddie smirks. “Corroded Coffin’s an acquired taste, but I’m sure your… progressive… neighborhood wouldn’t mind.”

"It's not that," Steve shakes his head. "Even though we’re ‘progressive’, my neighborhood is still very much suburban-families-with-young-kids. They'd call the cops on us, for sure."

But Loch Nora was just a decoy for Steve’s true feelings. If everyone sees how cool Eddie is, they’re going to make him their Comfort Grown Up. Then where would Steve go?

Especially if they caught a glimpse of those big, brown eyes and the way they glisten in the amber sunset. And apparently Dustin’s caught wind of this Munson Magic as well; because not too long after, he’s imitating Eddie, the coercion-via-cuteness factor ramping higher on his part. And how could Steve say no to his lil face?

“Just this one time, Steve?” Dustin begs. “Please, please, pleaaase?”

“Dustin…” Steve shakes his head.

“Pleaaase,” a pouty Eddie chimes in, slyly gazing up at Steve through his long, batty lashes. “We’ll behave, Stevie. We promise.”

But Harrington is standing his ground. Eddie already stole his best friend away from him. His gig. His spot at the Cool Adults table. Did he want Harrington’s life too?

“NO!” Steve insists. "NO!"

“YEAAAH!” Eddie croaks into the microphone while he seductively strums at his guitar. “YEEEEAAAHHHH!”

Performing in Steve’s garage was a YES-go after all. Especially if free bud has anything to do with it.

"This dude and his band are pretty good," Argyle comments as he takes a long, savoring drag from his hefty blunt. "Corroded Coffin, man. They're gonna be big one day."

"Just wait til you hear his guitar solo," Jonathan adds. "Eddie's been working on it all summer for Dustin’s show.”

The walls of the Harrington household are forced to withstand a migraine-inducing bass while everyone — but Steve — jams out, losing themselves in a song about wanting to stay young forever.

“Don’t wanna grow up, I want to get out. Hey! Take me away…”

Jealousy festers within the host as he watches, taking in the sight of an awestruck Dustin playing his air guitar alongside Eddie, resonating with the lyrics the way he passionately yells,

“I wanna shout out, ‘take me away…away away away’…”

“Someone take me away,” Harrington’s inner monologue spews.

But it’s not that Steve hates the song, nor is he having a miserable time with everybody. It’s not that he hates Eddie or his stupid raspy voice, or the way he makes the guitar sing with every calculated twiddle of his fingers and every provocative buckling of his knees. In fact, it’s the opposite. Steve just didn’t want to admit that Dustin’s O.O.M.F. — and the other members of Corroded Coffin — were actually… pretty cool.

And judging by the fact that Eddie was most likely Dustin’s first choice for the talent show, there was a cornier, more ominous second thing that Steve isn’t willing to admit: it’s that the exclusion really hurts him.

“Same old SHIT,” Eddie sings. “Never ends.”

“WHOA!” Harrington exclaims, waving his disapproving hands in the air.

The band stops the song immediately, the negative feedback from the amp plaguing the air while they stare around in confusion.

“What?” Eddie demands.

Any chance there was for Steve to try to humble 'The Freak', he took. And clearly this time around, there was no hesitation.

“You’re not really gonna say the S word when you perform at Show and Tell, are you?”

“The S word?” Munson retorts. “What, is this preschool?”

Ba-dum-tss! goes the drummer.

"Gareth," Eddie scowls.

Gareth Emerson digresses with a sheepish shrug.

“No," Steve shakes his head. "But it’s still a summer camp for kids.”

Eddie chuckles at this. “Come on, Harrington. Don’t act like YOU weren’t cussing up a storm at their age. The kids are all in their rebellious phase anyways. They’re gonna love it.”

Eddie’s known Steve since elementary school. This is the same guy who held swear contests, who cussed because he thought it made him look ‘mature’. The same guy that used to call women “bitches”. The same guy who almost got suspended because he and Tommy H. were yelling out slurs during an assembly, but luckily his superintendent mom was there to pull some strings to simmer it down to one afternoon of detention.

Harrington couldn’t possibly choose now to care about profanities.

“I’d rather you not bend the rules of Camp Knowhere.”

Bend the rules?!

It doesn’t take too long for Eddie to figure out that the issue goes beyond Camp Knowhere. In fact, both of Dustin’s O.O.M.F.s know that.

“Why the sudden change of character, Harrington?” Eddie crosses his arms. “Huh? After all these years?”

"All these years, what do you mean all these years?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

Captivated, nosy eyes bounce back and forth between the two as they argue... on and on and on and on.

“This happens every time,” Jonathan hisses to Robin at a low whisper so that they don’t hear. “Do you think they ever get tired of it?”

"I actually don't know what you mean," Steve counters. "And quite frankly, I feel like you don't seem to really know me at all."

“Hey, I’m just following your lead,” Eddie shrugs. “You never took time to get to know ME when we were in school. Unless I had something you and your friends wanted of course.”

“So all of this is MY fault?”

“I never said it was.”

It’s almost ritualistic at this point, the arguing.

Just then, Gareth starts up again, issuing a theatrical drumroll to ease the tension. It only seems to make it worse, judging by how Eddie and Steve hiss at him immediately.

“GARETH!” “EMERSON!”

The drummer refrains once more.

Steve is quick to pick up where they left off. “I can read between the lines.”

“Crazy thing to say for someone who’s paid people to write his book reports.”

“I’m just…looking out for everyone, okay?” Steve snaps, reverting the conversation back to the kids. “The children might not care, but it may look bad on the counselors. And I like my summer gig, spending time with my best friend. I don’t wanna jeopardize it.”

A self-serving response. Eddie knew to not put it past Harrington.

Regardless, Eddie chooses to comply. Not to give Steve what he wants, but because Dustin's happiness is on the line. And if his best friend is happy and Corroded Coffin gets a record deal, then Eddie wouldn’t have to deal with Steve Harrington or Hawkins much longer.

The band starts up again and, this time, remains uninterrupted.

Meanwhile, Steve sulks back in his seat, unable to pinpoint why he felt like the issue wasn’t resolved. But he soon realizes that for as long as Eddie Munson is part of the equation, the problem will remain a constant.

“Same old stuff,” Eddie bitterly corrects himself. “Never ends.”

“Fortune cookie, anyone?”

Two hours feel like days when everyone is stoned. And given that everyone’s too tired (and high) to drive themselves home, a sleepover at Steve’s quickly becomes inevitable.

“Did we get the same fortune?” Jonathan asks Argyle.

“No, we didn’t,” he shakes his head. “Guess we’re not feeling sorry for each other tonight.”

Dustin chuckles.

“What are we feeling tonight? I’m thinking pizza.”

Leaving everyone else to decide on munchies, Steve and Eddie appoint themselves as the Designated Clean-Up Crew, searching for and rounding up any trash they see laying around.

“So, what are you up to nowadays?” Steve questions. “Since we graduated high school.”

“Oh, same old, same old,” Eddie offers a tense chuckle. “Still in The Biz, but the money’s good. Thankfully this time I’m doing it without my pops around.”

It strikes a nerve in Steve. He’d give anything to have his dad around.

He also wouldn’t be proud to be in the same position as he was in high school. Didn’t Eddie want to grow as a person?

“That’s amaziiing.” Steve lies.

Uncomfortable now, Eddie clears his throat, shifting his attention back to Steve so that he can eat his own words.

“What about you? What’s The Hair been up to?”

“I work at Family Video and then help out at camp right after.”

“Try bringing that to the career fair,” Eddie scoffs jokingly.

“Sorry?”

“I said great gig you got there,” Munson perjures.

Their gazes meet for a brief, charged moment before quickly averting.

Eddie watches Steve with both curiosity and disdain.

This is who his best buddy is seeing on the side? It’s hard for Eddie to think of anything Dustin and Steve could possibly have in common. What would they even talk about? Maybe the new Brook Shields movie, hair gel, and their favorite ice cream flavors, but that’s just about it. And Steve Harrington doesn’t seem like the best influence for Dustin anyways.

Steve’s eyes flicker towards Eddie, trying to hide his scrutiny behind a thinly veiled expression of disinterest.

He notes the way Eddie’s band tee has seen better days, the sleeves ripped and the print faded, and the way he absolutely reeks of Mary Jane and indistinct rubber from a Spirit Halloween store. If Dustin brought Eddie home to Mrs. Henderson, she’d probably stroke out.

Just then, a very intoxicated Robin chimes in.

“Duuude, Eddie. It’d be awesome if Coffin got this gig.”

“Oh, I know right?” Eddie lights up immediately. “We’d be out of this rugged town once and for all and living life in the big city.”

The distaste for Eddie only amplifies with that statement.

All of Steve’s life, he’s had nothing but good experiences in Hawkins. To have a “rough” upbringing, you had to be looking for trouble. Which is something Eddie and his father, Al seemed to have been doing since the beginning of time.

“What’s so rugged about Hawkins?” Steve challenges Eddie.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…” Eddie mutters.

“I would, actually,” Steve taps his feet impatiently. “Go on, tell the class, Eddie. What is so rough-and-tough about this part of town?”

Eddie knows Steve is trying to set him up. He thinks for a moment, carefully crafting his words before speaking.

“There’s just…” Eddie says with trepidation. “A lack of equal opportunity to succeed. Always has been. But in the city, opportunity is everywhere. For everyone. Indy would be a perfect, clean slate for us.”

It’s like a sock to the face.

Lack of opportunity? Eddie is most definitely looking for problems now. If he wouldn’t consider Steve being nice enough to lend him his garage — even when he didn’t like him — an ‘opportunity’ to succeed, then what would he consider?

“I mean, sure. Hawkins has issues like any other city, but I think there are equal opportunities for everyone,” Harrington protests.

“Very rich coming from you, Suburbia.”

“Uh oh,” Dustin mutters.

Now Steve is pissed.

Does Munson think that just because Steve lives in a nice house he’s never had problems in his life? With that logic, Eddie isn’t going to get himself very far. It’s very evident now, given where he currently is.

“Why can’t you accept the fact that life comes for others too?!” Steve spits. “Life is also hard for me, you know!”

“Guys…” Dustin starts.

A bitter laugh expels from the pit of Eddie’s stomach.

“Life is hard for you?!” Eddie exclaims. “It’s hard for you? How can life be that hard? Hey, I’m Steve Harrington. My life consists of Daddy’s money, wearing hair pomade to the ceiling and getting rejected by girls!”

“Hey, why don’t we play that one song again!” Jonathan suggests. “You know the take me away, away, away, away, away!”

But Steve and Eddie are way too locked in, committed to tearing each other to bits because the other one started it. Eddie wanted to play that game huh?

“Well all YOU know is complaining about the consequences of your own actions!” Steve spews in return. “Oh look, I’m Eddie Munson, I’m painfully self-unaware, I’m inconsiderate of everyone around me, and I commit petty crimes then wonder why the cops hate me. AND I still live with my uncle – AT MY BIG AGE.”

“YOU STILL LIVE WITH YOUR PARENTS, HOW IS THAT ANY DIFFERENT?”

“AND! You’re as loud as your guitar. NEW-NEW-NEW-NEWWW. How about you evaluate your priorities if you want a good life, Munson? And make sure you at least have some ammo under your belt before coming for me.”

“Wow,” Eddie laughs. “I don’t know anyone more tone deaf. You think my walk of life was a choice?! Not everyone was handed everything on a silver platter, Steve. Not everyone’s lives are perfect like yours!”

“Sweethearts, anybody?!” Robin butts in, desperately waving the candies in the air. “You are what you eat, and everyone in this room is VERY, VERY SWEET!”

But the boys are only getting started. If this is Robin’s version of sweet, she was about to know what sour is real quick.

“You think my life is perfect?! At least you have a father figure.”

“I want you to assess the room we’re in, Harrington,” Eddie implores. “Family must love you a lot if they’re letting you throw parties and use drugs that a loser like me was nice enough to hook you up with.”

“Leave what I do outside of camp out of this! You know, as a counselor I’m not sure I like my kids hanging out with some loitering criminal all the damn time.”

“Not sure I like them hanging out with someone who acts like an overbearing, insufferable parent.”

“At least I have parents.”

Simultaneous gasps fill the room.

The color drains from Steve’s face when he realizes the damage he’s done. He watches as Eddie seemingly deflates, shrinking himself down at the shoulders, and then sulking in place. A blank stare overcasts his eyes, lips desperately trying not to quiver while in front of an involuntary audience.

“That was not cool,” Steve breathes. “I’m sorry.”

But Eddie is past the point of forgiveness. And caring. Steve’s already embarrassed the fuck out of him, so what’s Dignity at this point? Steve won. Whatever game he was playing.

“You’re right, Steve,” Eddie nods, bitterly. “You have everything I want. So why can’t you just give me this one thing?”

Steve really fucked up this time. He doesn’t even know why he even said that. It isn’t necessarily a brag that Steve has parents if they aren’t active in his life. Did he really want the last word so badly, he willingly let his anger steer the direction of the conversation? Sure, Eddie has backed off now, but the thick veil of suppressed tears did not make it worth it.

“Here,” Eddie quips as he chucks Dustin’s invention at Steve’s chest. “You win. You want a cookie for it?”

Before leaving the room, Eddie helps himself to one as well. Steve watches ashamed as Eddie storms away, not seeming to care who he bumps into on his way out. With the intention to make amends, Steve darts after Eddie, following him to the bathroom only to have the door slammed in his face.

“Eddie!” Steve knocks. “Listen, I’m sorry, okay? I thought I’d gotten over my anger issues and pettiness, so I don’t know why I said all that. It’s something I need to work on, for sure.”

No response. Steve tries again.

“You guys sound really good…” he musters. “I wish I had the courage to put myself out there like that.”

Steve gently taps the door with two fingers now.

“Eddie?”

On the other side of the wall, Eddie is angrily wiping away his tears, upset at himself for letting someone who wears women’s hairspray and Tiger Beat cologne get under his skin.

Giving up now, Steve sighs to himself and turns around to prop his back against the door. And in case Eddie decides to come back out, Steve decides to wait a while longer, reading the fortune from his fortune cookie in the meantime.

“A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another’s eyes. When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.”

“What could that possibly mean?” Steve thinks to himself as he takes a bite from the cookie.

And at the same time on the other side, Eddie also cracks open his cookie. A nice little dessert with some kind words are sure to make him feel better. He reads his fortune.

“A journey soon begins, its prize reflected in another’s eyes. When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back.”

“…in bed,” he adds with a chuckle.

Just then the ground begins to rumble.

The sudden JOLT causes Eddie to drop his cookie and latch onto the sink for stability. Meanwhile, Former Cub Scout Steve who knows everything about Stop-Drop-and-Roll dives for the nearest piece of furniture, crawling underneath to protect himself from any debris that may fall onto him.

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!”

“JESUS CHRIST!” Eddie yells.

Hawkins doesn’t get many earthquakes. But according to the news, Roane County was due for a big one. This could well be it.

But as fast as the earthquake happens, it fades away. And next thing Eddie knows, he’s taking deep breaths, gathering his composure before he swings open that door.

“Shit — Harrington, are you okay?”

Steve scans the room, looking around for any debris that may block his plight towards safety.

“Yeah I’m fine, thanks Munson,” Steve gulps. He allows Eddie’s firm hand to hoist him up. “Just a bit shaken up. Are you okay?”

Eddie nods his head rapidly. “I’m fine too,” he insists. “I’m just worried about everyone else.”

Running back over to the garage now, a frantic Steve and Eddie call out to their friends to make sure they’re okay. But when they arrive, they’re shocked to see everyone conversing, laughing, and ordering pizza, almost as if nothing had ever happened.

Steve coughs to make his presence known. “Did you guys feel that?”

Everyone turns to them.

“Feel what?” Dustin inquires.

“There was an earthquake.”

“No, there wasn’t?” Robin cocks an eyebrow.

“Yes there was!” Eddie insists in agreement with Steve.

“Are you sure?” “An earthquake?”

“There wasn’t an earthquake.”

“What earthquake?”

“A chicken bake?” Argyle questions, clearly high as shit.

“An earthquake,” Jonathan repeats for him.

“An Earth Cake?!”

“QUAKE!” Jonathan hollers. “EARTHQUAKE!”

“EARTHQUAKE?!” the startled stoner yelps.

“No no no!” everyone yells out, doing their best to contain Argyle’s panic. “No, no, no!”

———

“You’re an asshole, Steve Harrington. I wish I could hate you.”

Eddie winces as his neck partially kinks, due to the fact that Steve was too short-fused to get him a pillow for tonight.

At least the futon is comfortable. After flopping around like a fish out of water for a few minutes, Eddie finally feels completely relaxed. And as he flips through his mental catalog of Dream Scenarios, the aspiring rockstar begins to drift off to Dreamland, envisioning his guitar solo and jamming out with his favorite herd of sheep.

Meanwhile upstairs, Steve is too emotionally uncomfortable to hit the hay.

“Get a grip, Munson,” Steve grumbles, angry at the thought of the freeloader below him. “If you stopped thinking the world is out to get you, maybe you’d actually see some progress in your life.”

After one last fluffing of his pillow, Steve reaches into his drawer and pops a gummy into his mouth, bracing himself for more Camp Knowhere shenanigans that lie ahead and having to deal with the Freakazoid-With-a-Victim-Complex in the morning.

12:00 MIDNIGHT

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ [insert creepy, grandfather clock noises here]

8:00 AM

Obnoxious, fluffy duvet covers stir Eddie awake.

Maybe Steve did come with some goodies after all.

Munson begins to execute his morning routine: a gangly-limbed stretch followed by an exaggerated bellow and blissful smacking of his lips.

BONK.

A lamp on the nightstand interrupts his ritual. It is then that Eddie realizes.

He’s in a bedroom.

“What the—” Munson mutters.

Sitting up slowly now, Eddie takes a moment to assess the room around him.

Trophies and medals. Cologne and hair gel. A work desk with a basketball net over it, and a Tommy Hilfiger pop-up shop in the closet.

He’s in Steve’s room.

But where is Steve?

Curious about the time and day, Eddie instinctively goes to consult his watch that normally rests on his wrist.

It’s not there.

Eddie then looks at his hands…his palms… Not a single blister, callous or hangnail. Those are not his hands.

“Those aren’t mine…” he thinks to himself.

Eddie then runs some stressed fingers through his hair, only to discover that its length is half of what it was when he fell asleep last night.

“That’s not mine either.”

Eddie shoots up immediately. When he finds himself standing, Eddie notices his food belly is gone, and that six pack abs have taken its place. Eddie then stares down at his feet, which are now exponentially larger. And hairier. And his thighs, now they’re a lot bulkier.

Suddenly Eddie’s hands explore his thighs, grazing his quads shortly before going to grope the two plump mounds of tissue behind him, both cheeks comparably twice the surface area of his palms!

“That’s DEFINITELY not mine.”

Absolutely panicked now, Eddie releases his grip on the butt that isn’t his and dashes out the room.

It appears that he is somehow not in his body. And the only person in Loch Nora with a dump truck for an ass — that Eddie knows of — is Steve Harrington.

But if he's Steve, then where is Eddie’s body?

The couch.

Eddie bolts over to Steve’s living room in search of his corpse. And to his surprise, he does find himself there, the chest that was his – but not his – at the same time rising and depressing as he watches himself sleep.

“Christ if that’s not Steve in there, then I’m dead,” Eddie thinks to himself. “And quite frankly, I don’t know which one is worse.”

Eddie clears his throat.

"H-hello? Steve?”

Nothing.

“Steve?” Eddie attempts again. “Hey. Steve. It’s Eddie. Wake up!”

Nothing.

“This is an emergency, Steve. I need you to wake up now, please.”

He gets a good snore out of the entity. Completely frustrated now, Eddie does not hold back.

"This is alarming, Steve! WAKE UP!”

Eddie unearths the bottom half of Steve's…his… body by pushing the blanket aside. When he tugs at his legs, Presumably Steve retaliates, grabbing onto the arms of the sofa to keep him in place.

“EARTH. TO. KING. STEVE!” Eddie screams.

"Whaaat, dude?!" the host in Eddie’s body grumpily demands.

"Aha! So you are Steve!"

"Duh, who the fuck else?" It demands. "Are you still high?"

"If I was, then that would better explain this."

Steve must’ve really done too much last night. Because for a while there, the person who he assumed was Eddie sounded a heck of a lot like him.

"That’s fucking weird," Steve shakes his head, turning over to look at Eddie. "For a second there, you sounded a lot like m—AAAH OH MY GOD!"

Palms clasping his… (well, Eddie’s) mouth now, Steve can only gasp in horror.

"WHO are you?” he demands. “WHAT are you?"

"It's me! It's Eddie!" Eddie gulps. "I'm... I’M INSIDE OF YOU!”

There’s a pause.

“I don't like how I worded that,” he admits.

"Yeah, neither do I..." Steve agrees. Suddenly he squints. "Is that a zit on my forehead?"

He reaches to swat it but Eddie swats him away. Through Steve's gritted teeth, Eddie hisses,

"THAT'S what you're worried about right now? What in the sane hell is happening?!"

“This isn’t the first weird dream I’ve had after taking an edible,” Steve remarks.

“Harrington, this ISN’T a dream. Okay? This is real life.”

“Yeah, okay Munson,” Steve scoffs, finally hoisting himself off of the couch to pace around. “I know a dream when I’m in one. I just gotta… pinch myself or slap myself around and I’ll be awake.”

But Eddie wastes no time.

“OW!” Steve yelps. “You just pinched my nipple!”

“You mean my nipple?”

He does it again.

“OW! Quit it dude, that’s harassment.”

The two make their way over to a mirror in the living room. To test out the impossible, Steve raises his right hand. The mirror shows Eddie doing it. Eddie begins to touch his face. The mirror responds with Steve doing it.

It’s the confirmation they were too in denial to come to terms with. They somehow switched bodies.

“Oh god, I’m…” Steve stammers. “Wow…”

“Oh…GOD!” Eddie shrieks. He inches closer to the mirror. “I’m like an off-brand George Michael!”

“HURTFUL—”

“Harrington!” Eddie exclaims, turning back around to face himself. “What was the last thing you remember from last night?”

“Uhh,” Steve stammers. “A-all I remember was us arguing during dinner time and going separate ways after. And then there was a big earthquake that everyone insists that they didn’t feel. And then…we all went to bed, and I forgot to get you a pillow.”

“It’s okay, I’m over it,” Eddie pants. “Way bigger issues than a pillow right now.”

“And now we’re here.”

The two frantically pace around the living room. How can something like this possibly happen?

"Okay,” Eddie exhales. “Yesterday we were here with everybody. All of us were seemingly having a good time until we got pretty into it. Then the earthquake happened, we went to bed, and woke up sober… but in different bodies. Is this like…a rare phenomenon…some kind of medical emergency?”

“I don’t know, dude,” Steve shrugs. “This has never happened to me before. There has to be a scientific explanation for this."

Suddenly their two brain cells click.

"Henderson," they utter in unison.

“It was probably Dustin’s Empathy science experiment,” Steve infers. “Although I'm not sure how a fortune cookie would take walking-in-another-person's-shoes so damn LITERAL."

"God, we’re cooked!” Eddie groans. “And we can’t tell anyone but our friends about it or else we’re REALLY gonna end up as test subjects!”

Eddie starts biting his new nails and frantically pacing back and forth. Meanwhile, Steve centers in on his breathing before emotionally responding to the situation in front of him.

“Okay…” Steve exhales. “Let me just gather my thoughts… You’re in my body and I’m in your body.”

“...Right,” Eddie nods, annoyed since they’d already established that. “Does it seem less scary now that you’ve said it out loud?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head.

“Alright, cool,” Eddie shrugs. “Just checking.”

They look at each other, absolutely petrified of the reality that has now sunk in. And before they seek any other forms of help, there was one more final thought the two needed to share alone… one O.O.M.F. (Other Older Male Friend) to another, in the comfort of Steve’s living room.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

[cue panicked guitar rift here 🎸⚡️]

“This is so not cool, man, this is SO not cool!”

Argyle, Jonathan, and Robin are the first ones at the scene. Along with Dustin, of course, who is now evidently spiraling.

“I need some air,” Dustin sighs. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god.”

The scientist darts outside for a very reasonable and private mental breakdown. Meanwhile in his absence, everyone else attempts to get their Thinking Caps on.

“I mean…” Argyle pants. “It’s one thing to have a funky acid trip, it’s another to have an out-of-body experience…but this is…this is…”

“Freaky,” Jonathan finishes for him.

“It’s FREAKY!” Argyle agrees. “And it’s not like we can go to the cops, I mean, they'd never open their minds to something like this. They'd just ship us to the Kerley County KOOK HOUSE.”

“Or worse,” Eddie gulps. “The Lab.”

The room is drowned with frantic rambling once again as all the young adults talk over each other.

Will this be the new normal? A head-banging Steve and a preppy Eddie? It sounds like pure nightmare fuel. A disaster waiting to happen. And Dustin only programmed his fortune cookies for this… unintentionally. He didn’t program a way to undo it.

Everyone is running out of ideas. That is until…

“Wait!” Robin exclaims. “What if you guys just…combined?”

The idea is met with retaliation.

“I beg your finest pardon?” “WE WHAT?!”

“Wait!” Eddie exclaims. “No, no, yeah! I get it. What if we… what if we just… RAN… into each other and the force will be great enough to switch us back?”

“Right! Right!” Steve frantically agrees. “Right, the greater the force, the greater the impact, and we’ll be back in our bodies in no time.”

Steve and Eddie are on opposite sides of the room before anyone else can register it. Kicking his foot around like a bull, Eddie warms himself up while Harrington takes deep breaths, grounding himself before the ordeal.

“Are they really about to…” Argyle begins.

“Sh.. sh..” Jonathan stops him.

“I really wanna see how this goes,” Robin adds.

“Okay,” Eddie huffs before he lets out a battle cry. “EN GUARDE!”

“OH GOD!” Steve shrieks.

“AHHHHHH!”

SMACK! PLOP!

Luckily the floor breaks their fall. The commotion grabs the attention of Dustin, who had just finished his meltdown. But at the sight of seeing his two friends attempt to combine, he could feel himself being launched into yet another one.

“Okay,” Dustin sighs as he walks back in. “What the hell?!”

———

“Language, Dusty!”

The next brainiac to consult on the list is Suzie, Dustin’s girlfriend. Spawning from the Mormon Capital of the world (Salt Lake City, Utah), Little Miss Beauty and Brains is known to have a solution for just about anything. Until now, it seems.

“I’m sorry for the language, Suzie. I’m just freaking out,” Dustin blubbers. “It’s not every day my best friends switch bodies and I have no idea how to change them back.”

“So let me get this straight…” Suzie sighs. “Steve is inside of Eddie, and Eddie is inside of Steve.”

“Okay, can we please stop wording it like that?!” Eddie pleads.

“Sorry, Steve.”

“I’M EDDIE!”

“Jiminy Cricket, this is so confusing.”

And what a sight for confused eyes it also is. But as painful as it is to admit, it’s interesting watching “Steve Harrington” stomp at the ground muttering “Jesus H. Christ!” while “Eddie Munson” nitpicks everything about his hair in the mirror.

“Okay, let’s start from the beginning,” Suzie suggests. “How did this start? What did you use for your ingredients, Dusty Bun?”

“Passionfruit and cohosh,” Dustin answers firmly. “Well-known, NATURAL stimulants of oxytocin.”

“And you said they ate the cookies containing these ingredients?”

“Yes, and they got the same fortune which I programmed for them to feel empathy for each other when it happens. Their bodies should’ve released an immense amount of oxytocin. Instead, they uh well, they switched bodies.”

“Dusty Bun… there is no such thing as an oral oxytocin!”

“Why not?” Steve questions.

“Because it would just get destroyed in the GI tract,” Suzie explains. “Meaning there wouldn’t be any ‘stimulants’ to absorb into the bloodstream.”

“Meaning oxytocin would’ve never been released in the first place,” Eddie’s breath hitches.

“It’s also notorious for being unable to cross the blood-brain barrier,” Suzie adds. “Something always happens before it’s able to. This may as well be that something.”

“But… if it gets destroyed in the stomach…” Dustin wonders. “Then how the hell did Steve and Eddie still end up switching bodies?”

Suzie shoots Dustin a dirty look.

“How the heck…” he corrects himself.

Suzie softens up immediately. “I don’t know. Our Heavenly Father works in mysterious ways. This may have happened for a reason. I’m not sure what it is yet, but I’m sure it serves a Divine purpose.”

“Well, can it SERVE a little faster?” Eddie grumbles. “I’ve got a Show and Tell to practice for and Harrington’s got children to babysit. We obviously can’t do that for each other. People are going to think we’ve gone crazy.”

Suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head.

“Wait. Henderson! Give us a couple more cookies. Maybe if we get the same fortune again, we’ll switch back!”

“NO! No more cookies!” Steve butts in. “Who’s to say you won’t end up inside another person whose body you didn’t wanna be in?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Okay…” Dustin stops him, disgusted at the fact. “Enough.”

“Dustin is right,” Suzie nods. “Enough arguing for now, and no more fortune cookies with matching fortunes until we can find out what’s wrong!”

The boys watch as Suzie walks back towards her desk and returns with some papers and pencils.

“Here. My homework for you two is to write down every little detail there is to know about each other. This includes your day-to-day, your hobbies, and even habits. No one can know what is really going on behind the scenes.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, wait,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t like what you’re implying. We don’t have to… live life as each other… do we?!”

“In the meantime, yes. You do.” Suzie confirms. “And it will be uncomfortable, I’m not going to lie. But what else can we do?”

“Uh, go through all of Dustin’s fortune cookies until we find a pair so Steve and I can ingest THOSE!” Eddie points out.

“Yeah, and there goes BOTH my Show and Tell items!” Dustin hollers.

“Dusty, don’t worry,” Suzie speaks again. “You will get to showcase your friends and fortune cookies at Show and Tell. I’ll be doing my own research to ensure that this happens. This includes talking to some monks, priests, and rabbis. We WILL get to the bottom of this.”

The three leave Suzie’s cabin feeling absolutely defeated.

Of course this would happen the summer Steve finally got his hair under control. And of course this would happen the moment Eddie has a potential record deal at the palm of his hands. Any other circumstance would have been okay, despite the freakiness factor. This was just shit timing if they ever did see it.

And if Suzie can’t fix it, they’re screwed.

When they get far enough away from the girls' cabins, Steve excuses himself to the nearest water fountain. In contrast, Eddie shows himself to the closest Porta-Potty, the safest place for him to have a conversation he wouldn’t be caught dead having.

“Hey God,” Eddie grumbles. “Me again.”

———

Adapting to each other’s lives certainly wasn’t easy.

It started with switching cars.

Steve’s BMW has sensitive brakes. Eddie’s beloved van, Halen, on the other hand requires more force, more aggression, something Eddie believed Steve would bust his toe doing.

And Eddie can only hope that when Steve is running around town as him, he doesn’t embarrass him all too much. He’s already not off to a good start, with a stupid Thundercats t-shirt on and his hair up in a bun.

“And when you’re outside with the kiddos, make sure they wear sunscreen,” Steve advises him. “You're a camp counselor, after all.”

“Got it.”

“And that an epipen is with you at all times,” Steve adds. “Some of the kids have bee and nut allergies and those reactions can be lethal.”

Make sure this. Make sure that. It’s odd for Eddie to be hearing it all in his own voice. Has Steve always been this annoying?

Eventually Eddie gets tired of it and consults his Walkman, blasting “Take Me Away” through his headphones to drown out Steve’s rambling. Rambling on and on and on and on… on and on and on and on….

“Eddie!” Steve shouts. “Are you listening?”

“Don’t wanna grow up I wanna get out,” Eddie sings. “HEY! Take me away.”

Eddie was listening. In fact he listens and pays attention more than Steve knows. He just doesn’t want to give him that satisfaction.

“I’m gonna get you a real job,” Steve says to Eddie.

“A real job?” Eddie tuts. “My job is real. I sell real drugs and bring in real money to help my Uncle afford our really real rent.”

“But I’m not gonna be the one doing it.”

“Sure you are. You’re me.”

“Munson, no!”

“Harrington, yes.”

“I’M NOT SELLING KETAMINE TO MINORS, EDDIE.”

“Aw. But you fit the stereotype,” Eddie smirks, rather cheekily. “Now chop chop, Rick’s expecting royalties on said sales.”

“Maybe I can land you a hospitality job. Or maybe a front desk job. Something that comes with benefits. Something practical.”

“A Munson with a normal job in Hawkins?” Eddie can’t believe his ears. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Perhaps there is a silver lining in all of this.

For the average Hawkins resident, getting a job is no issue. It was never a choice for Eddie. Given his father’s less-than-cookie-cutter reputation – and Eddie being an involuntary extension of him – he couldn’t believe Steve couldn’t grasp that getting a conventional job is hard. And Eddie always thought Harrington needed some humbling. This is the perfect scenario for it.

“Take your feet off your dash,” Steve grumbles. “Steve Harrington doesn’t do that.”

“AyAy, Captain.”

“And stop head-banging in my body, will ya?” Steve begs. “You’ll break a sweat and un-pomade my hair.”

“God, you’re so anal about everything, Steve!” Eddie scoffs. “I feel sorry for those kids, I really do.”

If Eddie’s going to be walking around in Steve’s body, he at least wanted to relax first. But even that was impossible, given that Steve is a talker and alleged goodie-two-shoes-who-discovered-empathy-on-drugs-and-that’s-all-he-preaches-now (with the rules of a mother whose son was allergic to everything but water).

The car ride is more tense and quiet as the two approach Knowhere. Eddie is quick to scurry out when Steve approaches the drop-off curb, a little speech already prepared from the first nerve Harrington managed to get on in the morning.

“Loosen up that manbun,” Eddie commands once he’s out of the car. “You look like the Buddha went thrifting in Chicago. You also need to unclench your asscheeks a bit more if you wanna be me. And to put more fiber in your diet. How’s that for advice?”

SLAM! goes the door. Steve normally would’ve been pissed, but since he’s driving Halen, he’s lenient about it. So he watches Eddie walk away, in a stride that looks like he's constantly got a wedgie, over to the camp and towards the kids he is to watch until Show and Tell Day.

“WEAR SUNSCREEN!” Steve hisses, one last time. “…I don’t play about my skin.”

———

“Hey, Steve!” a group of campers greet Eddie as he makes his way into Knowhere.

God, this is so weird.

“Hey…kiddos?” Eddie greets them in return.

“We’re gonna go diving in the lake, just letting you know.”

“Thanks for the invite,” Eddie tuts. “Sounds like a lot of fun. Just uh, wear sunscreen.”

“Well, we try to invite you but you never wanna come with us.”

“Says who?” Eddie demands. “It’s summer, everyone goes to the lake.”

“Everyone but you,” a kid points out. “You turn us down every time.”

“I do?”

“All the time,” another kid confirms. “You say it ruins your hair.”

"I was...joking," is all Eddie can come up with.

"Really? Because it doesn't sound like you were," another child counters. "You already don't like that the UV rays have the potential to damage your hair cuticles, which aids in your fear of dryness and breakage. Furthermore, swimming in a lake filled with miscellaneous, unidentified bacterium is another concern, apart from the warm water having the potential to dry your hair out even more. Also, at windy temperatures of about 80 degrees, typical for a Hawkins summer, your hair when damp will start to frizz. Which is where your pomade and Farrah Fawcett spray come in handy. And on summer days, you give your hair 32 hours before the next hair wash rotation, to which the cycle starts again. We know the drill, Steve. You've explained it multiple times. And we get it now that you don’t like the lake."

Even the kids think Harrington's insufferable. Eddie can only shake his head in disbelief.

"I'm not who I was a day ago," Eddie shrugs. "...literally."

"Huh?"

"You gonna let me join or what?"

Suddenly, the kids’ eyes begin to light up. Steve Harrington joining them at the lake? It was going to be the most fun day they’ve ever had!

"Sure!" the kids cheer excitedly. "Al-right! Steve is joining our party!"

Eddie smiles to himself, proud of the reaction he got from the eager children. Excited cheers? Smiling faces? Now THAT is how you Camp Counsel.

And now that Eddie thinks about it, he realizes something. He’s spent most of his youth in survival mode that he never got to let loose and have fun. And while he has Steve’s body and physical activity levels, he is certainly NOT about to let that go to waste. Pomade? Eddie thinks to himself. Meet Trash Can.

“Hey guys! Wait for me!” Eddie calls after the campers. “CANNONBALL!"

Meanwhile Steve sets off to find Eddie a job.

A real job.

He tries Hawkins Mart. The roller rink. The movie theater. The coffee shops. Something that involved social interaction and hard work.

"Hi there," Steve grins politely. "I'm Eddie Munson, and I'd like to apply for a job."

But Hawkins is anything but receptive to it.

"No."

"Nope."

"Sorry."

"Munson, eh? You related to Al Munson?"

"NO!"

Apparently misdemeanors and run-ins with the law make it impossible to land a good gig. It was no wonder now why Eddie stayed where he was comfortable.

Though, it's unconventional.

Steve is just about to lose hope when those looking for help didn't even want him.

But he wasn’t giving up. There has to be something Steve can do to increase Eddie's chances of landing a good job.

Just then, he realizes.

Maybe it’s not Eddie’s past, but his demeanor. The way he carries himself. If he didn’t dress like a vessel for Satan every single day, this conservative town would probably take him more seriously.

It's one of life's twisted games. Steve didn’t make the rules. And he sure as hell can't change it.

But there is one thing he can help Eddie do. He can help Eddie play the game. Master it.

And that’s when Steve sees the scissors.

———

So you can say sunscreen is the least of everyone’s worries.

“Jesus Chr— what did you do to my hair?!”

“What did you do to MINE?!”

“I had to let her breathe man,” Eddie explains. “God, Harrington. No wonder you’re always in a mood. Holding your hair up with so much gel, MY HEAD FELT HEAVIER THAN A BOWLING BALL.”

“Oh yeah?” Steve challenges him. “Well your hair was so greasy, I could’ve pat it down with a paper towel like it’s PIZZA.”

The two are at it again, reaching at each other’s hair and then swatting each other away like flies. Suddenly Robin butts into the quarrel, emerging from the kitchen with amusement spread all across her face.

“Oh…my…god…” she says.

Steve and Eddie simultaneously stop their bickering and pan their gazes over to her. Unable to contain her laughter, Robin releases a hearty chuckle in front of them.

“Holy shit, this is the greatest thing since disposable cameras,” Robin tsks. “On that note, let me go get mine.”

“NO!” both Steve and Eddie refuse.

“This is so humiliating!” Steve whines. “I look like someone literally mopped the floor with me!”

“You're embarrassed?!” Eddie exclaims as he points to his own, original body. “Whose Peepaw died?! Why am I wearing a grandpa sweater sourced from the crusty back bins of Goodwill?!”

"I thought it'd be fitting attire for your library job that I got you."

"You got me a job at the LIBRARY?!” Eddie shrieks. “Out of all places?"

"No other place would hire you!"

"Can’t say I didn’t warn ya."

“And why does my hair LOOK LIKE THAT?!” Steve demands. “You went into the lake with the kids, didn’t you? DIDN’T YOU?!”

Eddie shakes his head at him, baffled. “God forbid, I – the camp counselor — do camp counselor things! I did exactly what you told me to do.”

“WHERE DID I SAY YOU COULD MESS UP MY HAIR?”

Steve takes a moment to mourn his glorious mane. Meanwhile, Eddie starts brainstorming how he’s going to rob a high end salon for all their hair growth serums.

Just then, Robin reemerges from the shadows with her camera, panning it directly at the two of them, as if she were some eager journalist fighting for her spot on the front page of National Geographic.

“Say cheese, freaks!”

———

Eddie was having a hard time being Steve.

Being Hawkins’ most desirable male apart from Billy Hargrove was harder than he thought. Because while women worshiped the ground Steve walked on, it was hard for flight-risk teens to take the Pretty Boy seriously.

“Christopher!” Eddie hisses. “I told you to stop domesticating the raccoons, you little shit.”

Living in the trailer park, Eddie’s no stranger to those feral, yet adorable, beady-eyed beauties. And while they were cute, holding your hand, refurbishing your trash, and performing for crackers, there was an unspoken agreement when it came to those kinds of animals: you are to never take them in.

“But it’s for research!” Christopher pleads.

“I wouldn’t care if it was for the Nobel Peace Prize,” Eddie scolds him. He places his angry hands frustratedly on his hips. “Those things can be rabid, violent, and aggressive when you least expect it. Trust me on this. Raccoons are better left alone in the wild. They can’t live with people like us.”

A low, miserable groan furls at the base of the boy’s belly. He kicks at the dirt beneath him.

“Ugh, you ruin all the fun, Steve,” Christopher whines. “Eddie Munson would never treat us like this.”

That statement just about nipped Eddie in the soul. Was this what being a buzzkill is like? Little did Christopher know that it’s actually Eddie scolding him. And that the kids were not only hurting Steve’s feelings but his as well.

Meanwhile Steve wasn’t having a grand time being Eddie either.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING BOY?!”

He almost died. Quite literally. And if it hadn’t been for Wayne launching himself across the room to stop it from happening, the odds of he and Eddie ever switching back would’ve gone from unlikely to zero.

“What?!” Steve demands.

“What do you mean, what?!” Wayne demands. “You eat that thing you’re going to wound up in the hospital! Again!”

Steve’s eyes trail down to the delicious shrimp tacos he had bought for takeout from Estrella’s.

Eddie is deathly allergic to shellfish. And with just a single bite of that shrimp taco, he would be in the back of an ambulance with hives and a closed-up throat. And judging by the fact that Eddie and his uncle didn’t necessarily bring home the ‘big bucks’, an invoice from Hawkins Memorial Hospital wouldn’t be an ideal situation to put him through.

“We’re already two months behind on rent,” Wayne grumbles. “You eat those tacos, kick the bucket, and rack up them bills, I may as well join ya six feet under.”

No tacos, no time and a half at work, and no solution to the problem at hand. No wonder Eddie was always an angsty mess. It definitely showcases in those lyrics too.

———

“Take me away, away, away, AWAY”

A killer guitar solo rips through the Harrington garage as Eddie strums away at the chords.

In hindsight, it looks like Steve is the rockstar. But the feral energy is unmistakably Munson’s, to which Dustin can’t help but get lost in, dancing along as a one-man-mosh-pit to the brilliance of Corroded Coffin’s discography.

“Same old stuff, it never ends.”

“The song sounds so cool hearing it in Steve’s voice,” Dustin beams. “And I can’t believe you put him in a crop top.”

“It’s like dressing up a Barbie doll,” Eddie jokes as he puts his guitar away. He then turns his torso towards Henderson’s field of view. “Look… Harrington’s an innie.”

Dustin cackles at the sight.

“Hahaha, no way!” he cheers. “I’m an outie.”

“Me too.”

The garage lets out an insulated hum as Steve strides in with the tacos. He cocks an eyebrow, confused at the sight of Dustin and Corroded Coffin comparing navels with each other.

“What did I just walk into?”

Eddie’s eyes light up at the sight of Steve.

“Ooh, is that Estrella’s I smell?” he inquires.

“All yours,” Steve grumbles. “Found out today that I can’t have shellfish.”

Eddie smirks at the realization.

“But I can,” he sings. “Because I’m Steve Harrington.”

Eddie rushes over to Steve to acquire the food. Steve goes over to greet the rest of the boys and to issue Dustin a long-awaited high five.

“Mmm…” Eddie coos. “Take a good look at these washboard abs, Innie. They’ll be gone for as long as I can have these tacos.”

Steve makes a face. “I can’t believe you put me in a crop top.”

“I can’t believe you cut my hair,” Eddie shrugs.

But he seems to have gotten over the fact. Hair will grow back. There were larger issues at hand today. Like how exactly Eddie is going to perform with Corroded Coffin at Show and Tell.

“Listen,” Eddie wipes his mouth. “Harrington. I have a favor. If worse comes to worst and we can’t switch back on time, I need you to perform as me for Show and Tell.”

“And why exactly would I do that?”

“Because it’s our one shot to make it big.”

“Again, why would I do that?”

“Because you love me,” Eddie sneers.

But his face drops when Steve doesn’t return the energy.

Nowhere in the fine print did it say ‘Steve Owes Eddie’. So why would Steve bother? It’s a lot for Eddie to ask of someone he’s openly mocked for years. But now that he needs something, suddenly Steve is the coolest person in the world? It doesn’t work like that.

“Hey…” Eddie begins. “I know you don’t like me, okay? Whatever animosity you have towards me, I hope we can move on from it one day.”

Steve refuses to meet Eddie’s eyes.

“If you do this for me, I’ll be eternally grateful,” Munson adds. “And maybe just maybe — when Corroded Coffin makes it big and we start touring around the world — I’ll be out of your hair forever. Literally.”

“Seems transactional.”

It leaves a bad taste in Eddie’s mouth. It was always ‘Terms and Conditions’ with Harrington. Never has he ever considered the other person’s feelings. Never has he ever done anything out of the goodness of his heart. It was always, “What do I get out of it?”. Always some sort of fucked up business move. Just like his father.

“You view everything as a transaction, don’t you?” Eddie scoffs.

“Why would I do favors for someone who’s done nothing but disrespect me? I value my time and energy. I’m not wasting it on you.”

“But you can waste it on being a camp counselor, right? The kids aren’t so hot about you anyways, so I don’t know why you keep showing up.”

“Because Dustin is there. Because I’m a good friend. You wouldn’t know sacrifice and loyalty if it hit you in the face.”

“Ah, there it is. The performative activism in plain sight. We all know that this is about Dustin. AAAAlways been that way.”

“Of course my summer is about Dustin,” Steve argues. “You’ve had him all year. Spending every second with him and breathing down his neck.”

“I’M the one spending too much time with him?” Eddie scoffs. “Breathing down his neck?! You’re the one who got a gig to be closer to him.”

“Does it register with you that it’s because I DON’T SEE HIM MUCH AT ALL ANYMORE?” Steve shouts. “He’s always at your stupid D&D games and never wants to hang out with me! You’re taking the spotlight, like you always seem to do!”

“That’s IT!” Dustin barks. “I have HAD it with you two fighting all the time.”

Finally, it’s quiet. And normally the two would be stoked about it, but seeing Dustin on the brink of tears does not make the last word worthwhile at all.

“Not even a life-changing catastrophe will make you guys stop! You’re in each other’s bodies for Christ’s sake and still going at it like cats and dogs.”

Dustin starts back towards the house, kicking at the chords beneath his feet that are blocking his dramatic exit. All Dustin has ever wanted from those two – and quite literally every adult in his life – was co-existence. A notion so easy, yet no one has ever been able to give him that. Not even with his damn empathy cookies.

“It all makes me feel like a failure. Locking myself in my cabin for six weeks to have my fortune cookies yield THESE results? My last year at camp too.”

“Dustin–”

“And if you guys keep this up, then I don’t wanna spend the rest of my summer with either of you. How’s that for compromise?”

“Hey. Buddy…” Steve starts again.

“Henderson!” Eddie calls at the same time.

But it’s already too late. Off Dustin goes, Camp Nowhere notebook in his arms, walkie in his pocket, and car keys jingling furiously around his fingers. Nothing worth displaying at Show and Tell if the grown ups were going to act younger than the campers there. And if Dustin’s anger wasn’t already prominent, the way he backs out of Steve’s driveway is a dead giveaway, judging by the screeching tires and the pop of the engine as he steps on the gas.

“Damn,” Jeff comments. “Taco ‘bout a tough crowd…”

Ba-dum-tss! the drum sounds.

“GARETH!” Steve and Eddie growl.

"Scott Clarke."

Hearing that name nearly gives Eddie whiplash. Especially because it came out of Steve’s mouth.

"Huh?"

Steve repeats himself. "Scott Clarke? Our middle school science teacher?”

Steve is perched at the bottom of the stairs, wading aimlessly around in guilt. Eddie watches as he props himself against the rails of his fancy staircase, almost as if to serenade him with an apology song of sorts.

"When we were kids, he headed the Hawkins Middle AV Club,” Steve recalls. “Nancy was in it, and so was Mike and so was Sinclair, Baby Byers, and Dustin.”

“Go on…”

“Well…whenever they ran into trouble, Mr. Clarke was always there to help,” Harrington shrugs. “Always been very personable, non-judgmental, and most of all, he’s knowledgeable.”

“Okay…”

“And with his degree from MIT, he’d be the one most likely able to get us out of this mess,” Steve emphasizes. “Just in time for Show and Tell.”

“What makes you think he’d want to help former students like us?” Eddie demands. “We weren’t in the AV club or anything.”

“Because he cares, Eddie. Current students or not.”

There’s a pause.

“Remember that one time you came into homeroom with a black eye?” Steve reflects. “And Clarke made you stay after class so he could ask if everything was okay at home?”

Attempting to mask the mushy feelings underneath, Eddie simply shrugs. Steve persists.

“Other teachers would have assumed you got in a fight or something. Even if that was the case, none of them cared to look further into it. No one except Mr. Clarke.”

“Yeah,” Eddie admits, choked up now. “Yeah, I almost forgot about that.”

It actually was a fight that happened that day. Some random kid at school. But there were also times Eddie has gotten in scuffles with his father, typically when Al Munson stumbled home too drunk for his own good and tried laying a hand on either him or Uncle Wayne. And Mr. Clarke, having grown up with Al, knew what he was capable of. Meaning it was his unspoken civil duty to look out for (Munson) Junior.

“And,” Harrington sighs. “I’m kinda really desperate here. I want you to be able to perform at Dustin’s Show and Tell. You and the band have a shot at this. I wholeheartedly believe that. And I don’t have much faith in my ability to perform as you. Neither does Dustin, it seems.”

“Steve…” Eddie begins.

“And sure, I was upset about not being Henderson’s first choice for a while,” Steve rambles. “But I’ll be okay. The kids can learn survival skills another time. ”

Grateful tears start to form in Eddie’s eyes. He’s never seen this side of Steve before.

“My hopes and dreams don’t depend on Show and Tell,” Steve mumbles. “And if it means a producer from Cardinal Records is going to be there, then getting Wayne and yourself out of debt does.”

Their eyes meet again.

“I can’t take that away from you.”

Suddenly the rocker feels his knees buckle.

It feels as if Eddie’s soul is about to leave his body. Or Steve’s in this sense. Struggling to keep his composure, the ever-so-rugged Eddie Munson clears his throat.

“…I didn’t think you paid attention to any of that, Steve.”

“I pay attention more than you think,” Steve counters. “And if my observations are right, Mr. Clarke might have the answer.”

Steve shrugs, dangling the keys to Eddie’s van around his fingers. He hula hoops them around as Eddie remains floored, pondering above him.

“Well?” says Steve. “You just gonna stand there and gawk, ‘Harrington’? Come on.”

Perhaps walking and gawking would be more productive. Without further hesitation, Eddie races down the steps and follows closely behind Steve before shutting the door to the house.

“Wipe your feet,” Steve commands as he unlocks the doors to Halen.

“What do you mean wipe my feet?” Eddie snaps. “It’s MY van!”

“Yeah, but I’m the one who’s been driving it,” Steve counters with a glare. “And I’m saying wipe your feet.”

Nonetheless, Eddie sighs and does as he’s told. But he’s not happy about it.

Never in a million years did he think Steve Harrington would tell him how to run his own van. Nor did he think Harrington would actually end up being a good dude. Both were very humbling experiences. And while King Steve drives them off to Hawkins Middle, willingly blasting Metallica and doing his best to head-bang, Eddie crosses his arms and stares blankly out the passenger side window.

“I’m never eating anything Dustin makes me again.”

———

"So..." Eddie prompts. "Can you fix us?"’

“If it isn’t broken, then do not fix it,” Mr. Clarke advises.

There was only so much that could be disclosed to their former teacher. Being an educator also meant being a mandated reporter, and it’s without a doubt government officials would bust down the doors of Camp Knowhere and run a freak raid on Dustin’s science experiment had they known the truth. Steve and Eddie had to gloss over practically everything.

“I appreciate and am honored to know you two trust me with your dilemma,” Mr. Clarke nods. “That being said, it is normal for gentlemen your age to go through an identity crisis after experimenting with recreational drugs. It will subside, but only if you don’t fight it.”

A decade can certainly change things. Steve and Eddie never expected their most logic-driven teacher to embrace his heart, dressed in a brown linen robe, as he calmly kept them on standby with soothing, meditative “Ommm”s while they spiraled into desperation in his ‘BACK TO (S)C(H)OOL’ classroom.

“But what is the science behind this?” Steve demands. “Is something happening in the…the… what did Suzie call it? The blood-brain barrier? Why would… Harrington and I both feel like we are living the life of the other person?”

“To question everything is to not know peace,” Mr. Clarke soothes them.

He’s saying this while criss-cross-apple-sauce on his desk, by the way.

“Sometimes, it is best to simply let things be,” the educator warns. “By going against the grain of the water, you are blocking the potential you can reach if you had been in a flow state.”

“Good God, you choose NOW to go on a spiritual retreat?!” Eddie hisses. “When we need science and your genius mind the most?!”

“If not now, then when?” Mr. Clarke mumbles. “If not you, then who?”

For the first time in his life, Eddie feels plagued with academic regret. He wishes he paid attention in Clarke’s class. Meanwhile Steve is considering having a word with his superintendent mother, because no way in hell is some barefoot, most-likely-vegan lunatic about to indoctrinate the future kids of America.

“If not you… then who?” Clarke repeats. “If there's one thing I learned during my time in research… and mindful meditation… it's that sometimes the answer is right in front of you. Or within."

Steve and Eddie look at each other.

"The world is full of obvious things," Mr. Clarke says. "...which nobody, by any chance, ever observes. Sherlock Holmes."

Accepting the absolute bust, Steve and Eddie storm out of the door and back down the stairs of their prepubescent alma mater.

“Son of a bitch,” Eddie curses under his breath. “The damn hippies got to him before we did.”

As the two walk down the stairs, Steve sneaks a few quick glances Eddie’s way. Seeing him upset didn’t necessarily make him feel so hot. The answer is clear: they need to venture beyond a Mormon child and a middle school science teacher. They need to consult the big dogs.

“We can go to the Indianapolis Science Center,” Steve suggests. “And maybe ask some people there. There’s also the university. If we flag down a professor from the physics or chemistry department, maybe they can offer us some insight. Or…”

“Just give it a rest, Steve,” Eddie surrenders.

“What?” Steve questions. “No! We’ve got to figure this out before Show and Tell. It’s in a couple days.”

“What’s a couple days?” Eddie demands. “We’ve been like this for nearly a week. What makes you think it won’t last another week? Or indefinitely.”

Eddie kicks at an empty carton of orange juice at his feet while Steve watches with an overwhelming sense of guilt. He didn’t want Eddie to give up. Not yet, at least.

“Hey I’m not going to let you blow this shot, Munson,” Steve demands firmly. “I know how much this means to you. This could finally be your ticket out of Hawkins. You guys were meant for the Big City.”

“No,” Eddie disagrees, absentmindedly.

Eddie’s gaze veers off to the side, a sadness in his eyes so profound that Steve almost starts tearing up as well.

“All… the answers… point…to no,” Eddie continues. “Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone followed their dreams? We’d have no one doing the conventional jobs. It's not in my cards, I fear. Maybe I was always meant to stay in Hawkins, being everyone’s weed man and no one’s first choice.”

“Eddie…”

“But thanks for trying though, Harrington. Doesn’t go unnoticed.”

———

To be continued…

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