#and why was nora insufferable

[vexedtonightmares]

i got drunk & watched the rwrb movie last night and i have 2 thoughts

1. that was bad

2. it was like a bad porno but without any porn

[jennycalendar]

At Donovan's encouragement, Nora does her best to step back and let Giles and Jenny handle their communication issues themselves. Whether or not she will combust from frustration in the process is anyone's guess.

the energy of halloween in the 'verse of what you make and halloween in the time of now syncing up perfectly enough for me to post an autumnal fic where halloween stuff is sorta happening in the background the whole time...... it is unparalleled. what if i tried to do this for the holiday season, too???

ANYWAY, it looks like this 'verse is starting up again -- i have actually written the first chapter of the sequel, which is so insane and exciting! i suspect that there might be 1-2 fics between this and the sequel, and also that i'm going to want to build up a backlog before i start posting chapters, but know that forward motion is happening. i have missed these guys so much.

[rivrsong]

,,

[pseudophan]

i need to be a bitch somewhere and where better than pseudophan dot tumblr dot com (said in a very honoring way love you nora)wait pause i just heard like a squeaky rubber duck noise out my window. im on a 10th floor in nyc. hello? okay anyways i need to keep being a bitch ducks aside but oh my god fics have been so unreadable lately. why is everyone so obsessed with doing like yaoi gender roles to them. i dont think ive opened smut i havent clicked out of in months at this rate. like every single one is like "ohhh phil is a delicate helpless uwu little princess and dan is the big strong manly man" im actually going to start killing people like it is so insufferable why does no one hear themselves. do you people hear yourselves? for real? pause i just heard the duck again. is it an omen do you think

LOVE the journey this ask takes you on first of all, i wonder what the duck's fanfic opinions are it seems eager to share

i haven't read enough fic recently to comment on ALL of them but i can't say i don't get where you're coming from cause a lot of what i have seen... yeah... and look if that's the dynamic someone wants to portray in their fic that's whatever i guess, i'm not here to police people's fiction, but it is annoying that there's so much of it. kinda feels like we're back in 2015 just with the roles reversed

the whole uwu princess phil thing is largely brought on by dnp themselves and i don't even have a problem with that at all, by all means live your precious baby angel smol bean (sigh) dreams phil but what bothers me a little is the part where a lot of people take that and feel the need to then make dan, like you said, some Big Strong Masc Dom Top like can we be sooooo serious for just one second... again if thats what people want to write porn about whatever i guess but i totally agree the sheer amount of it is a bit.......... hmm........

this isn't just fics though it's the way people talk about them in general. at least with fics you're technically allowed to write whatever the hell you want, it's all fictional, but when it's posts talking about their real life selves .... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[matchamilkislover]

White Horse, 2. (a.a.)

pairing: knight!abby x princess!reader

cw: fantasy!au, fem!reader, a tiny bit of blood mentioned, eventual displays of fighting and violence bc it’s fantasy, kind of slow burn?, tension, reader has an attitude, tall af!abby bc size difference, royalty!au, mentions of arranged marriages, some mentions of au politics, abby in armor is a warning in itself

synopsis: you are the youngest princess of the royal family that rules over your kingdom, Aphrynia. now a young adult, you’ve come of age in a tense time, and your personal protection is of utmost importance — which is why the resignation of your previous personal knight means a rushed reassignment ceremony with little to no preface. That being said, why does the name of your new knight sound so familiar?

word count: 3.67k

a/n: this is a kinda slow and really dialogue-heavy chapter but i’m still giggling and kicking my feet, i am so excited for the rest of the story omllll (it’s my own story i have to write it myself but i’m also delulu)

you can read part 1 here!

⊹ ⋆｡˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆｡˚

Clapping resounded in the large room, but you paid the sound no attention. Yours and Abby’s gazes were still locked on each other, like you were caught in a dance to see who would break away first. Finally, she gently kissed the top of your hand and released it, standing to tower over you with her tall, built form. The simple kiss on your hand made your heart speed up unexplainably, and you swallowed and quickly pulled it down to your side, burying your hands in the skirts of your gown. Abby’s gaze, however, was still locked on you, and you looked down and then around the room to avoid her gaze. What in the world was going on?

Realizing that everyone else in the room had moved on from the ceremony and started milling about, you too decided that it was time to go, clearing your throat before stepping out of place to find Nina. Abby opened her mouth and looked like she was about to reach out and say something to you, but was interrupted by members of the court starting to swarm and try to steal her attention. Thank god, you thought to yourself, dashing away before court members could swarm you, too.

A hand suddenly fell on your shoulder as your eyes searched the room for your lady’s maid, and you cursed in your head, turning to see which Lord or Lady (or worse, daughter or son) had gotten their claws into you. You would’ve breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that it was one of your own siblings if it wasn’t George.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d say you’d just seen a ghost, little sister,” he teased, that shit-eating grin of his spreading across his face. You just rolled your eyes and turned to face him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, George,” you lied, brushing his hand off your shoulder and crossing your arms. He laughed.

“Oh sure. She’s the one you always attended lessons with, right? Yeah, she was fun,” he replied casually.

“If by fun you mean insufferable, then sure,” you retorted. “Please, you only liked her because she supported your shenanigans.”

He lifted his hands humorously. “Hey, you got me there. It’s nice to feel appreciated once in a while.” You sighed and started visually searching the room again, hangover still leaving you in a mood not quite fit for George’s lovely personality.

“I’m sure it is. But you’re a big boy, so if you could entertain yourself so I can get away from this lovely conversation, that would be great,” you finally huffed and quickly strode away, back on the hunt for Nina. Finding her meant finding breakfast and a nice rant session. And, you thought as your head throbbed again, a lot of water.

“There you are!” A familiar voice squealed as you moved about the cavernous room. You instantly smiled.

“Oh, Nora, thank goodness,” you squealed back as your eyes landed on your friend approaching just from your left. The two of you met with joining hands, squeezing comfortably.

“Are you alright? You looked entirely shocked to see Knight Anderson up there,” Nora inquired, her brows furrowing in concern. You sighed for what felt like the millionth time on this already exhausting day.

“I’m fine, I just didn’t really expect to see her, that’s all,” you replied, trying your best to brush off the way your heart pounded in your chest. You really wished it would stop that. Nora suppressed a knowing smile.

“She’s certainly changed a lot, hasn’t she,” Nora noted with waggling eyebrows.

“Nora,” you gasped, fighting the urge to smile with her. “You know good and well my opinion of her, so you can stop that now!” Though it felt genuine to you, your retort was unconvincing, and Nora simply rolled her eyes.

“Are you seriously still hung up on that? It’s been what, 8 years?”

“9,” you interrupted. “It’s been 9.” Nora rolled her eyes again.

“Close enough. If you want to hold a grudge, that’s fine by me, but I am going to enjoy this while I can,” she teased, sauntering away as you gasped again and feigned reaching out to hit her playfully as she walked away.

Finally, you spotted Nina waiting patiently for you near the edge of the room and let out a breath of relief. You approached her quickly, and her face lit up as you neared, feeling much less awkward when she was with you rather than being alone as a lady’s maid without her princess. You easily hooked your elbow with hers as you took a spot next to her, desperate to seem too occupied to socialize with anyone else.

“Can we please get out of here?” You begged through the clenched teeth of your plastered smile, nodding gracefully to people who passed you like nothing was wrong. Nina almost giggled.

“Yes of course, princess,” she replied, the two of you stepping forward and turning to the door.

“Why does everyone keep giggling at me?” You questioned, again through clenched teeth.

“Excuse me for my bluntness, but your reaction to Knight Anderson was quite entertaining,” she replied, still suppressing giggles.

“My reaction? What reaction?! I was under the impression my face was quite neutral, thank you!” You replied in a way that was almost offended.

“You just seemed quite surprised to see her, is all,” Nina explained gently. “I highly doubt someone who doesn’t know you well would have noticed, princess,” she reassured as the pair of you finally approached the large doors that would lead you out of this blasted throne room.

“It’s not my fault no one told me she of all people would be my new knight! You would be caught off-guard too if you were me!” You retorted, trying to keep your voice to a whisper despite your urge to raise it.

“All I’m saying, princess, is that-” Nina’s reply was cut off by a voice ringing out over the chatter of the crowd to you.

–

In terms of the aftermath of the ceremony for Abby, it was certainly a wave of attention — attention she didn’t want even one bit, especially when the only person she really wanted to talk to was you. Judging by your reaction, you certainly hadn’t been expecting to see her. Hell, she hadn’t been expecting to see you either until maybe 10 days ago. But it seemed like no one had bothered to inform you that she would be your new knight.

“Knight Anderson?” a voice asked, bringing Abby out of her thoughts and back to the many people surrounding her in the throne room.

“Hmm?” She replied, clearly having zoned out and not heard whatever the woman had said. She was quite a sight to take in, with gaudy clothing and a tight, pointed face. The woman smiled, but it looked more like a sneer.

“Oh, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Lady Ulfrid, I’m new here as well. I was just wondering, Queen Arabella spoke quite highly of your accomplishments, and it must be so for you to be a personal knight for her youngest daughter. What might these so-called accomplishments be, I might ask?” Lady Ulfried sneer-smiled again, and this time, Abby couldn’t help but feel like Abby saw the expressions just as they were. She was questioning her.

Raising an eyebrow, Abby let a smirk dance on the corners of her mouth and adjusted her stance. “Well, I was top of my class in training, but that’s not the answer you’re looking for, is it? So what would you like to hear about? The battles I led in our recent land conflicts with Chryiont? Or the ones I led 2 years ago in Dungard? Or was it my successful takedown of the great Pirate Duke? You’ll need to be more specific, my lady,” Abby replied with a knowing smile, satisfied by the woman’s widening eyes.

“Oh, well, I- I just meant, um-, well,” Lady Ulfrid floundered, and it satisfied something a little sadistic within Abby. She was tired of being questioned because of her age, much less her gender, and it felt nice to make people who questioned her then question themselves instead.

“Don’t worry,” she replied, cutting off the woman and leaning down to her height. “I think I know exactly what you mean.” She smirked, and stood back to full height as Lady Ulfrid’s face reddened and she sped away from the knight, muttering something incoherent under her breath.

Turning to scan the rest of the room with her hands clasped behind her back, Abby suddenly realized that talking to Lady Ulfrid had made her lose sight of you. Last she saw, you were talking with one of your court friends — Nora, was it? — and now you had completely disappeared. Something about this felt oddly familiar. Right as she thought she caught a flash of your dress — god, that dress made you look something unearthly — another person tapped on her arm, and she nearly groaned before turning and seeing who it was.

“Long time no see, huh Anderson?” George asked with a sheepish grin, pulling her in for a one-handed hug. Abby grinned back and returned the hug gladly.

“Too long,” she replied easily. “But you know, I don’t think I can condone your shenanigans now,” she continued teasingly. George laughed with a wide, open mouth, patting Abby on the arm.

“Yeah, well, I’ll just have to figure out a way around you,” he replied jokingly.

Abby chuckled and shook her head. Suddenly remembering that she had been looking for you, she snapped to attention, scanning the room quickly. Finally, she spotted you nearing the exit with your lady’s maid, and she patted George on the arm as a farewell before starting after you.

“Princess!” She called, nearly jogging across the room and swiping between different huddles of people. “Princess!”

—

Your smile dropped when you heard Abby calling after you. Shit. While you stood there trying to accept that Abby Anderson would be constantly on your heel from now on, Abby caught up, slowing to stop and face you. You looked at her, expecting her to say something, but she just stared back.

And you both kept staring.

Looking at her felt like seeing a dear old friend and someone entirely foreign to you all at the same time. Like two winds hitting you from opposite directions, pushing the breath out of your lungs and filling them back up all in one motion. She was so different but so familiar, it made you want to both run away and never leave her presence all at once. You didn’t even realize you were staring, studying her like art in a museum, until Nina loudly cleared her throat beside you.

Whoops.

You came to a start and also cleared your throat awkwardly, nodding to Abby as a delayed greeting as you shared an uncomfortable look with Nina. “Well, uh…I, we…it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” You remarked awkwardly. This was already going terribly.

“It has,” Abby confirmed with a nod. You pursed your lips.

“Well, uh, I suppose we should get going, shouldn’t we, princess?” Nina asked timidly, looking at you with wide eyes.

“Oh, yes, of course,” you replied quickly, nodding and turning with Nina to return on course to your chambers.

You grimaced uncomfortably in Nina’s direction, and she returned the look apologetically. Abby looked like she had wanted to say something else, but instead bit her tongue and followed the two of you silently. The walk through the corridors was painfully quiet, you unconsciously straining to listen to the sound of Abby’s footsteps behind your own, hyper aware of her proximity to you. For someone who called her despicable the last time you had seen each other, you were certainly strangely invested in even the smallest movements of Abby Anderson.

Once you and Nina were safely inside your chambers, with Abby standing in place just outside your door, you flopped into a chair, rubbing your forehead. “This day has got to be some twisted sort of dream,” you moaned, slipping off your shoes one at a time. Nina simply suppressed a giggle and shushed you.

“These walls are not as thick as you wish them to be,” she reminded you in a hushed voice, perching in a chair adjacent to yours while she awaited your breakfast request. You pouted and sighed.

“I truly don’t understand why nobody told me she would be my new knight! I mean, she disappeared the day after we had our millionth argument 9 years ago, and now, out of the blue, she’s going to be right behind me 24/7? Guarding me? Protecting me like someone’s out for my blood? It’s just…fucking insane!” You whisper-yell, frustration bubbling over now that it was just you and Nina. Well, and Abby, waiting just outside the door.

Nina sighed, knowing that she should try to make you feel better, even though she couldn’t help but agree with how you felt. “The queen does what she does for a reason, I’m sure. With you being young and the whispers I hear from the other servants, I’m not surprised she wants a trusted eye on you,” she replies in a quiet voice. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, nodding.

“I know, I know. It’s just frustrating that not a single soul ever bothers to tell me anything. I mean, I would have really liked a warning that the girl I basically grew up with was not only returning to the palace as a knight, but my personal knight, and, to make matters worse, she looks like—” you gesture wildly to the door, “—that! How am I supposed to deal with that!?” you exclaim, your whisper lifting a little. Nina starts giggling uncontrollably, and after a minute you join her, if only because of the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“I think,” Nina says, taking a deep breath once her giggles finally subside, “that some breakfast and a lot of water might help make you feel better, hmm? Maybe a tonic from Dr. Anderson?” Nina offers kindly.

“Yes, please, you’re a saint, Nina,” you reply, rubbing your forehead again as the throbbing pushes forward. “But, no tonic, actually, please—I can’t handle being embarrassed by asking Abby’s father for a hangover cure the first day she returns, I think I might keel over from sheer embarrassment,” you finish with a groan. Nina chuckles and nods, standing from her perch.

“Whatever you say, princess,” she says with a pat on your shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, she pushes the door open and exits the room, mumbling an awkward greeting to Abby that makes you cringe from sheer discomfort.

Sighing, you look around at the chaos that is your room after this morning’s rushed preparation activities, and decide that the least you can do even with this raging hangover is make your bed. You stand determinedly and approach the bed, pulling back layer after layer neatly to then arrange each one on top of the last. It’s a bit awkward with the shuffling of your dramatic skirt around the edge of the opulent bed frame, but you manage to make it work.

You’re tucking in the last corner of your many blankets when an unfamiliar knock on the door catches you off guard, and you get stuck pulling your hand out from beneath the mattress. You pull harder and harder, gritting your teeth and kicking yourself mentally for the ridiculousness of it all. Stupid fucking mattress, you groan mentally as you pull, why is this thing so goddamn heavy!? With one exceptionally strong pull, your hand rips free from its feather-filled prison, only for the momentum to send you falling backwards into a heavy sofa behind you, the collision making a crashing sound that mixes oh so wonderfully with the surprised shriek that leaves your mouth. You catch yourself just barely on an arm of the sofa, but have no time to process what just happened when Abby comes barging into the room, eyes wide as she searches for you.

Just perfect.

You both stare at each other like deer in headlights when your eyes meet, unsure of what to do. It’s Abby who breaks the silence first.

“Are you alright, princess?” She asks in a concerned tone, walking over to you gingerly. Her large form seems almost unnatural in your space, and it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the proportions.

“Um, yes, I’m fine, I just…fell,” you explain awkwardly, cheeks going pink. You stand straight and pull your hand off the sofa arm, hissing quietly when the friction stings on your pointer finger. Looking down to inspect it, you notice a long splinter shoved inside of the skin and grimace.

“You just fell?” Abby asks quizzically, raising an eyebrow as she eyes the splinter.

“Well, I, um— I got my hand stuck, and when I pulled it out, I guess I pulled too hard and just…fell…” Your voice trails off as you look from her to the bed and back to your hand, touching the splinter gingerly and hissing again.

Abby nods, humming in understanding. “I see…do you need help, um, with that?” She asked, gesturing to the splinter.

“Oh no, I’ve—I’ve got it,” you reply casually, trying to hide the clenching of your jaw when you gently pull on the slice of wood. Abby opens her mouth to ask if she can help again, but you're already setting your jaw and pulling the splinter firmly, gasping at the more intense stinging when it slips out of your skin. A large bead of blood immediately forms on the spot, hinting to a stream, and your face pales at the sight as you bite your lip and look away, eyes searching for a handkerchief.

Your breath quickens in panic as you search, just the thought of the blood now seeping out of your finger making your breath quicken and your heartbeat skyrocket. A warm hand on yours and the feeling of a handkerchief being dabbed on your finger pulls you out of your growing panic, and you look to see Abby ever so gently holding your hand in one of your own while the other dabs the blood from your finger with a handkerchief.

“I remember one time when we were 9, you fell and scraped your knee on the stone while we were running in the garden, and you were very nearly screaming,” Abby said suddenly as she looked at your finger. “I guess I was right to assume that fear hadn’t changed much,” she continued, chuckling. A breathy chuckle left your mouth in return, gaze still focused on her hands touching your own.

“I never did have the stomach for it, did I?” You responded quietly, a gentle smile dancing on your lips. “I guess some things never change.”

“Yes,” Abby agreed, “some things never really change, do they?” She spoke in nearly a whisper, eyes finally glancing up to meet yours. Your breath caught in your throat, heartbeat slowing as you gazed into the stormy blue of her eyes.

“I guess not,” you whispered.

The sudden rapt knocking of Nina’s small fist and her pushing the door into your room ripped both of you out of the trance you had been in, you grabbing the handkerchief and holding it to your finger while Abby’s hands dropped yours and she stood at attention. Her mouth opened like she was about to announce her arrival before she spotted the two of you standing unusually close, and her movement stopped, brows immediately furrowing in confusion.

“I— We—“ you started.

“She fell!” Abby nearly shouted, her expression unsure. “She fell and I heard the commotion, so I came in, and she, um, got a splinter,” she finished, gesturing toward your hand. You raised your handkerchief covered finger as proof, and Nina nodded slowly. You weren’t quite sure why you felt like you had been caught doing something wrong, but it certainly did, and you certainly weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Abby cleared her throat, and nodded to the still open door. “Well, um, I should…yeah,” she stuttered, nodding a goodbye to both of you before returning to her post outside of the door that she closed behind herself.

As soon as the latch clicked, Nina’s eyes were on you like a hawk, and you were retreating back to where you had been sitting with your face in your hands. “Did I seriously just see that?” She asked incredulously, bringing a tray of food over with her and setting it on a small table. You nodded, face still in your hands, but you were quickly coaxed out by the smell of the food.

“I was just trying to make my stupid bed, and my stupid hand got stuck under the stupid mattress, and I fell pulling it out and got a splinter on my finger, and then it started bleeding when I pulled it out, and…yeah. That’s about it,” you poured the words out quickly, immediately feasting and downing large gulps of water when you finished. Nina simply nodded knowingly and watched, nibbling on a piece of toast as you ate.

“Y’know, that didn’t seem very despicable to me,” she remarked after a few minutes of comfortable silence, a mischievous grin growing on her face.

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, turning an annoyed glance at her. “Are you going to keep being like this? It was just an awkward situation,” you complained, shoving another piece of fruit in your mouth. Nina laughed and nodded.

“I’m sorry, princess, but it’s been just too easy,” she retorted, still laughing. You rolled your eyes, but inside, your heart still skipped a beat every once in a while, thinking about her calloused, warm hands encapsulating yours, and her deep eyes gazing into yours like nothing else existed in the world.

You seriously needed to distract yourself if you were going to survive this.

⊹ ⋆｡˚ ————————— 𓆩♡𓆪 —————————⊹ ⋆｡˚

taglist: @paqerings @katniiss @dummysimp011 @chocbaleine

[madelynraemunson]

HEY MADDY, WHAT’S ON TV? 📺

𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 (…𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬)

part 2/2

🥡 steddie!body swap x freaky friday fanfic • RATED: NC-17 🥡

part one here.

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

WORD COUNT: 6.9k words

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

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

🥠

Eddie makes himself dinner again tonight.

It's nothing new; it’s been this way since he was a kid. But the loneliness at Steve’s is almost suffocating, despite the vastness of the house, the extravagant amount of silverware in the drawers reserved for a grand party of three… and hell, even with Todd Harrington being in the same room…breathing the same air as him right now.

“Hello, Steven.”

“Hi, Dad,” Eddie replies.

 It almost feels apocalyptic. 

There wasn’t much in Harrington’s notes about his parents, other than they were hardly ever home and basically let Steve do whatever he wanted. And to an extent Eddie thought Steve was exaggerating, but given that this was the second time this week he’s seen Steve’s parents — after being in his body for nearly five days — he realizes Steve was telling nothing but the truth. 

“How was work today?” Steve’s dad inquires.

Eddie does a double take, glancing at the fridge with Steve’s work schedule on it plastered in bright colors. It’s very hard to miss.

“…Today was my day off,” Eddie replies, baffled that Steve’s dad was too spatially unaware to look that way. “Did you uh…did you eat yet?”

“I did. Did you?”

“No, I was thinking about what to make actually,” Eddie mumbles. “I guess Spaghettios will do. Again.”

Eddie always thought Steve ate dinner with his parents, had conversations about his day, and shared laughs and stories. It’s jarring now to be in his shoes, where the silence is almost deafening.

“Yeah, we do need more groceries,” Steve’s dad agrees with an absent-minded yawn. “It’s a bummer you were off today. I was going to have you fetch your mom and I a tub of that Neapolitan. Didn’t realize we were out.”

Neapolitan? Eddie’s ears quirk at the mention. Isn’t that…?

“Ice cream? Why would I have ice cream at work, Dad?”

“Why wouldn’t you? Don’t you work at Scoops?”

“I work at Family Video.”

“Since when?”

 “Since THREE YEARS AGO... You didn’t know that?”

“I’m not a psychic, Steven.”

Eddie’s eyes pan back to the fridge, again,  the only thing on it being a sheet of paper that reads, FAMILY VIDEO SCHEDULE STEVE H. The stark reality of the situation hits him hard.

“Anyways, kinda odd you’re home tonight,” Todd continues. “You usually never are. Shouldn’t you be with Nancy?”

NANCY?!

“Nancy?! Nancy and S–” Eddie pauses. “Nancy and I broke up FIVE years ago, Dad. …Don’t you remember?”

“I may have remembered you saying something about that…”

Oh he’s being absolutely insufferable! Steve and Nancy’s breakup was the talk of the town, and probably even the hot topic at the Loch Nora Moms Book Club meeting. How could Todd Harrington not even notice that Nancy wasn’t around for five years?! 

At his wit’s end now, Eddie starts towards the hall. “I’m out.”

“Where are you going?” Steve’s dad demands, his tone sharp enough to slice through the thick tension in the air.

Eddie feels a surge of defiance bubble up. “I need some fresh air,” he replies, trying to keep his voice steady. “Not that you’d notice if I disappeared for a while.”

Eddie doesn’t know where he’s going yet. He just needs to get the hell away from here. Meanwhile, Steve’s dad is trying to figure out what he’s done to make his son so upset. He can’t think of anything he could’ve possibly said to elicit this reaction.

“Hey! Tone, you heard of it?” his eyes flicker over to Eddie. “What’s going on, son? You’re not acting like yourself.”

Eddie tuts. “Yeah, like you’ve been around to know what that’s like?”

Maybe he could go to the arcade. Or Starcourt. Hell, maybe he’ll loiter around Camp Knowhere, or a convenience store that sells Farrah Fawcett spray (The humidity was making his hair so hard to deal with! Eddie just wanted it UP and OUT OF HIS WAY). 

Eddie just wanted to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but the hellscape that is Steve’s house.

“WHERE are you going?” Steve’s dad demands again.

“Knowhere, I guess.”

“Nowhere? Well you’ve gotta be heading somewhere.”

Annoyed – and too exhausted to explain – Eddie sighs.

“You know what, fine. Stay ominous about it,” Todd mutters. “You know what, Steve, you are never home.”

“Oh yeah? Well if I was home, would that have made a difference?!”

Taken aback, Todd Harrington’s eyes widen, shocked by his son’s sudden outburst. This isn’t the calm, polished Steve he knows. If this is how his son really is, what else has he been up to? Quite possibly no good.

“You know,” Todd clears his throat. “You are never home anymore.”

Eddie whips back around, enraged at the audacity.

“What’s the point of staying home if I’m going to be ignored?!” he yells. “If I’m going to eat dinner alone? If the only time I’m home you guys want something from me?! If I’m going to be stuck wondering when my parents are going to walk through that door?”

It’s like Eddie was talking to his own father while yelling at Steve’s. He’s had an eerily identical encounter with Al before. It just wasn’t expected or heard of. A guy with rich parents who weren’t…present in his life? His mind couldn’t wrap around it. Until it had to. 

“I see you all the time, kid.”

“But do you know me…DAD?” Eddie cries. “Do you really know me?”

“I was at the hospital when you were born, of course I know you, son.”

Does this dude even know who Dustin is?

“Oh yeah? What’s my best friend’s name?”

“Tommy.”

“What sport did I do in high school?”

“Volleyball.”

The third and final test. 

“What am I allergic to?”

But Steve’s dad clicks his tongue in annoyance. “What do I look like, a doctor?”

Eddie swallows hard. Wayne would’ve answered all those questions—and correctly—in a heartbeat. 

“I’m out,” Eddie says again.

Holding back the remainder of his tears, Eddie starts towards the door, any last bit of his appetite he had left completely down the drain now. 

“It was a genuine question, Steven,” Todd Harrington calls after Eddie. “I said, do I look like a doctor to you?”

“You sure as hell don’t look like a father, I can tell you that much,” Eddie mutters.

Steve could argue that Nancy Wheeler was his biggest heartbreak, but as Eddie inhabits his life, he begs to differ.

The real heartbreak lies in being surrounded by everything a young man could ever want: parents, a big house, a large inheritance, hell, even a nice body—and still feeling profoundly lonely and unloved. In terms of a family and sense of belonging… Eddie’s richer than Steve. And had they not switched bodies, he would’ve never guessed. 

Poor Harrington. Eddie had no idea.

“Master of puppets are pulling your strings… twisting your mind and smashing your dreams”

This is Steve’s last resort.

He figured if he listened to the same music Eddie did, acted like Eddie, and believed himself to be Eddie, the guitar solo for Take Me Away would just come to him naturally. After all, nothing is impossible. And delusion has gotten enough people pretty damn far. 

Harrington reaches into his back pocket, acquiring the fortune that got them in this situation in the first place, hoping that maybe there were more messages in between the lines.

“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,” Steve jokes.

Look at him. This Eddie stuff’s easy.

Suddenly, an airy, delicate, seductive voice belonging to a young woman shifts Steve's attention.

“Eddie?”

Steve’s eyes nearly bulge out of his face. 

Standing in front of him with her hair neatly kept in a high ponytail, body embraced by a nice blouse and an even nicer skirt, and frilly socks that poked out of her sneakers is a woman he didn’t expect to see. 

The Queen of Hawkins herself. The woman of Steve’s dreams.

“NANCY!” he exclaims.

CRASH! Books fall out of the cart that rested besides Steve and onto the floor. He’s inherited Eddie’s clumsiness too it seems. Shocked, Nancy rushes to his aid, picking up books that fell more towards her side.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry,” Steve frowns. “Thanks…”

“I uh, like your haircut,” Nancy smiles. “Also, I didn't think you’d work at the library.”

“Well it’s the only place that would hire me,” Steve chuckles. “…literally. Uh, my haircut? Thanks. You really like it?”

“Yeah! It’s nice!" Nancy nods. "It’s new. I’m so used to your long hair.”

“Yeah back when I looked like an electrocuted ferret,” Steve grumbles.

“Huh?”

“Nothing!” Steve says. “A-are you looking for anything?”

“Just browsing for some poetry that’s all.”

"I see," Steve nods. "W-well if you need anything, let me know."

Nancy watches as Steve, or Eddie in her eyes rather,  walks back to the counter, acquiring the newly returned books to stamp for the next round of check-outs. He then loads them into the book cart, getting ready to return them to their respective aisles. All with a sulking demeanor that he’s too aloof to notice on himself. 

“Are you okay?” Nancy inquires. “You look kinda down.”

Steve hesitates.

“I…” he says. “I really let someone down recently. Multiple people, actually. And I have no idea what to do.”

"I know how that feels,” she empathizes with him.

Nancy heads towards him.

“I was given a solution on how to make it right I just…” he shakes his head. “...don’t know how.”

“Well, the fact that you want to make it right is already the first step.”

Nancy motions for Steve to follow her, to which he does so immediately. She leads him to the poetry section of the library, specifically towards the authors with the last name starting with ‘D’. Shuffling through volumes of books, Nancy finally settles on one and takes it out.

“There’s a poem about selflessness that I really love,” she explains. “And if I’m correct, it’s in this lil book right here.”

Steve watches as Nancy flips through the pages in concentration. 

She is still so pretty. Despite living in the same hometown, Steve hasn’t seen Nancy in a couple years. But she is still quite beautiful, and the same in her mannerisms and quirks, but just now older and wiser. Nancy clears her throat before reading the poem out loud.

“If I can stop one heart from breaking,

I shall not live in vain;

If I can ease one life the aching,

Or cool one pain,

Or help one fainting robin

Unto his nest again,

I shall not live in vain.”

The two meet eyes.

“Emily Dickinson,” Nancy cites the poem. “Redemption is selfless. It's a sacrifice. But life becomes more worthwhile when you live to help others. If mending this brokenness is really what you seek, you have to see what matters most to the other person, and make sure there’s a way to meet in the middle. That’s the best way to help in any case.”

Nancy drifts off into a sorrowful, reflective trance. 

“I should know.”

They were both wrong, Steve and Nancy. They broke up over dumb shit that teenagers broke up over, both too stubborn for their own good to see the other person’s perspective. Steve never got a chance to redeem himself. Jonathan stole Nancy’s heart back then before he could.

But Steve never stopped loving Nancy. And now that it’s being revisited when they’re much older, it’s discovered that Nancy never stopped loving Steve either.

“You’re beautiful, Nancy Wheeler,” Steve says, peering into her eyes.

Perplexed, Nancy looks at her friend with furrowed brows. Encouraging space between the two, she places her hands on Steve’s shoulders, before moving off to the side.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

2 DAYS LATER… 💀

SHOW AND TELL DAY

“I made a promise to keep you shitheads safe and that’s exactly what I’m doing!”

You’d think it’d stop at the raccoons. But to Eddie’s surprise, the shenanigans of Camp Nowhere are far from over. 

Today’s activity is centered around “aerodynamics” – which quickly translates to “Rolling Down a Steep Hill in a Dismantled Tire Swing”. 

“The chances of us getting concussions are unlikely,” someone protests. 

“BUT. NEVER. ZERO!” Eddie points out. “Wear a damn helmet, for Christ’s sake!!!”

“Ugh!!!” another kid wails. “You’re being a buzzkill, AGAIN, Steve! We miss the Relaxed Steve who didn’t give a shit.”

“Well, that’s too bad!” Eddie’s quick to match the energy. “It’s when Steve STOPS giving a shit that you should be scared. STEVE has set rules for a reason. And the reason is that STEVE doesn’t want you guys getting hurt.”

An injured kid would likely mean a trip to the hospital. Which means calling home. Which then means mountains of bills and a potential lawsuit which could lead to the shutting down of Camp Knowhere forever. And if Eddie wanted to leave his mark on the world, he would want it to be because he shaped young minds. Not eviscerated them.

Eddie sighs before speaking again. He had no clue about what really goes into all of this.

“Why is Steve talking about himself in the third person?” a kid questions.

Eddie quickly realizes that he in fact was talking about ‘himself’ in third person, to which he quickly deflects by saying,

“Because you dingbats stress me out. Put a helmet on or it’s no tire swing.”

———

“You look absolutely ridiculous.”

“What do you mean? I’m just channeling my inner Eddie.” 

It was like watching Eddie cosplay as himself. As a nervous Robin drives towards Discount Stereo in Eddie’s van, Family Video’s sister music shop, she can’t help but get annoyed with Harrington’s forced headbanging and unnecessary drumming-on-the-dash. 

And making her drive without a license too? It was way too anarchic for Steve. It’s like she was actually with Eddie instead. 

“What exactly are we looking for anyways?” Robin sighs.

“We need a voice changer of sorts,” Steve brainstorms. “Or at least something to isolate Eddie’s vocals from the original track so I can perform for him.”

The further and further they were away from camp, the more desperate Steve got. 

But Steve isn’t giving up hope. And if he has to play What Would Eddie Do? to get Eddie the dream contract he had been wishing for, he’s going to do exactly that.

“Master of puppets are pulling your strings… twisting your mind and smashing your dreams…”

Just then an epiphany reaches him. 

“Puppet…” Steve whispers to himself. “…strings.”

How could he have overlooked this? The answer was so clear, so evident, right there all along. And in that moment, Steve had reevaluated all his previous judgments of Mr. Clarke. The man is a modern-day genius.

Steve turns to Robin.

“Turn around,” he says. 

“What? I literally just got on the highway and I thought we were going to—”

“TURN. AROUND!”

SKRRRTTTTTTTT!

———

“Okay, turn around,” Gareth cautions. “But don’t make it obvious.”

Eddie’s neck immediately snaps towards the respective direction. Gareth gets a good eye-roll in before backhanding him across the chest.

“Way to be subtle,” he spews. “But that’s him. That’s the guy from Cardinal Records.”

The "dad" sunglasses. The Old Money Laugh. Initially unassuming, Eddie has no doubt that the man behind him is the off-duty talent scout. Because while he didn’t stand out at first, his confident demeanor and unbranded athleisure reeked of ‘subtle wealth’, his attentiveness to the stage screaming, ‘I’ll have my people call your people’.

“We should introduce ourselves before going up there,” Gareth suggests. “That way we start off on the right foot.”

“Noooo sir,” Eddie sings, shying away from the idea completely. “Not when I’m not myself.” 

“Don’t worry, we’ll scavenge a wig and sunnies for you!” Jeff brainstorms. “He won’t even notice you took the form of some temperamental, big-haired frat diva!”

“It’s hopeless, guys,” Eddie refuses. “I say we just appoint the next band. Give someone else a shot while it’s in their reach.” 

“But Eddie, THAT’S US!” Grant frowns. “We’ve dreamt of this, man. This is our only shot. You said it yourself, you practiced your solo for nearly two months!”

“So let this be a lesson learned,” Munson mutters. “That just because you work hard, it doesn’t mean you’re guaranteed success. I’m sorry guys, but it’s not happening.”

But “Eddie!” he hears himself scream. “EDDIE, EDDIE, EDDIE!”

Steve dashes towards him, ignoring the people staring at him like he’s some lunatic yelling his own name. Harrington’s feet are thinking too fast for his brain, judging by the way Eddie has to extend his arms forward to protect the two from ramming right into each other… again.

“Eddie,” Steve pants one last time. “God…your cardio sucks. You haven’t… gone on yet…have you?”

“No, and I don’t intend to. Show’s off. We gotta find the next act.”

Steve stops him.

“I’ve been thinking,” Harrington begins. “Well, listening to music, more like. You know that one song by Metallica? The puppet show one?”

“Master of Puppets?” Eddie corrects him, baffled. “It’s not about a puppet show you ignorant f–”

“I know that,” Steve stops him. “...now. Point is, the word ‘puppet’ kinda had me thinking. What if you played your guitar solo backstage and I just pretend that it’s me doing it? I know the lyrics of the song, I just don’t know how to play guitar.”

“You know the lyrics to our song?” Jeff’s eyes twinkle with joy. Not that it was too big of a deal. But a ‘normie’ knowing the lyrics to one of Corroded Coffin’s songs is flattering in a sense. 

“Yeah, after hearing it for a week straight,” Steve shrugs. “So, what do you say, Munson? Let’s get you guys that record deal, huh?”

Eddie lets the idea marinate for a while. Harrington’s onto something. 

“So you suggest that I – quite literally – pull the strings behind the curtain…” Eddie nods along. “While you go out there and perform as me since you’re in my body? Pulling a Singing in the Rain essentially?”

“A what?”

But the theater kids sighs. “Nevermind. I’m uh, yeah! I’m up for it. If you are.”

Steve extends a hand to Eddie. With his stomach doing somersaults now, Eddie extends his hand to Steve, shaking it firmly, the mutual agreement eliciting a smile amongst the two former rivals. 

“It’s now or never, baby. Let’s break some legs.”

Eddie shoots him a sour look. Steve’s trying. He’ll give him that much.

“Sure. I’ll take it!” Eddie chuckles. He quickly turns around. “Hey! Henderson!”

Dustin gives him a single nod.

“How long does it take for you to make a sign?” Eddie inquires. “Multiple, actually?”

“Depends,” Dustin shrugs. “What do you want them to say?”

Eddie smirks.

———

“Sorry I’m late, sweetheart. ...Again.”

Eddie takes a quick moment to admire his guitar, the red and black Rich NJ Warlock that he had spent two-and-a-half of his paychecks on, glistening atop the wall, held upright by a matte black holster. His eyes then trail over to the standard Reverend beside it, the one he’s going to be using while Steve goes out there with his precious baby.

“Okay, so when you guys get on stage, Gareth will start the count,” Eddie instructs, looking at Steve now. “When he counts to four, that’s when you start the song.”

“Wait, four?” Steve’s only been used to three. “Do I start right when he says four or after the fact?”

“At four. Starting after four would make it a five count.”

“ButifIstartatfour, howcanIbesurehedidn’tmeanthree and I’m off a couple counts?! Usually the count is three, I wanna make sure the count is actually four.”

“The count is four and you start AT FOUR!” Eddie hisses. “I was in band and theater and I’m in a band, I should know.”

The two quickly stop their argument to don their respective guitars. After another firm handshake, Steve sets off with the band, nervous but determined to give the performance his all.

“Don’t fuck up, Harrington,” Eddie shakily mutters as Steve walks away. “I’m countin’ on you.”

“Uh, Steve?” Nancy questions. Eddie spins around. “What are you doing with Eddie’s guitar?”

How’d Nancy get backstage? And why is she here? Eddie’s brain is riddled with a ton of questions, but nonetheless, all he does is smile. 

“Don’t worry about it, Wheeler.”

Wheeler? Now Nancy really thinks Steve hit his head.

“I’m gonna worry!” she insists.

“‘Scuse me, ‘scuse me, pardon me,” Dustin utters as he squeezes his way to the front of the Show and Tell audience. “Tour manager here! I need access to the barricade!”

And he’s the best damn tour manager Hawkins has ever seen. Tucked underneath Dustin’s trusty armpit are a stack of poster-sized notecards with lyrics for Steve to read. Steve spots him in the crowd almost immediately and his eyes light up in relief. The two exchange confident thumbs up before the audience is lowered to a hush by the bright yellow stage lights and the fading stereo music.

“Uh… hi everyone!” Steve mumbles. “I’m Eddie Munson, and this is my band Corroded Coffin.”

Aggressive ringing shrouds people’s ears. Wincing himself, Steve gulps as he gathers what is left of his courage. 

“A-are you ready to be blown away?” Steve questions the crowd. “Taken away, I should say. Haha.”

Crickets. There’s a hesitancy with the enthusiasm, but the crowd still remains supportive. 

“C’mon…” Eddie whispers, impatiently and nervously tapping his feet.

Clearing his throat out of habit, Steve starts to speak again.

“Uh, this song is about never wanting to grow up. Refusing to conform to society’s expectations. The harsh realities of young adulthood.”

“Okay, we’re off to a good start…” Eddie comments.

“You know, I’ve done a lot of reflecting this summer,” Steve admits, the spotlight theatrically closing in on him. “Before this summer, I used to be uptight and a little bitter about everything and the way things were headed. But in the mess of it all, I learned to have a little bit of fun. To let my hair down, literally and metaphorically. And the fact that it all—“

“JUST START THE SONG!” Eddie interrupts from backstage.

Negative feedback rings through the stadium once more as Steve turns his head. I deserved that, he thinks. Without further adieu, Gareth starts them off, clashing his drumsticks together to set the tempo.

“ONE. TWO. ONE.TWO.THREE.FOUR.”

So it was after four.

“YEAAAAAH!” Steve croaks mightily into the microphone. “YEAAAAAAH!”

The band is already off to a good start. Even Eddie is stunned. The guitarist watches in joy – and almost with pride – as Steve pretends to know what he’s doing, ‘strumming’ along with Eddie’s band and banging his head around like an untamed maniac. It almost looks natural when he does it. Almost as if he had rehearsed this over and over.

When he senses the cue, Dustin holds his poster up.

“Get up, get out. Move on, move on there’s no doubt. I’m all wrong. You’re right. It’s all the same to you.”

“Get up, get out. Move on, move on there’s no doubt. I’M ALL WRONG. YOU’RE RIGHT. IT’S ALL THE SAME TO YOU!”

‘Eddie’s stage presence seemingly grabs the attention of the producer from Cardinal Records. Off to the side, Dustin’s friend’s friend’s dad remains leaned against a railing, his sharp eyes fixed on the band with a mix of fascination and calculation.

“I’m too thin. Too fat. You ask why. So why? So why? So why? So why?”

The scout's fingers drum against his thigh, fascinated by the song and the enthusiastic, young audience it catered to. He watches ‘Eddie’ and his provocative thrusts, the band and their one-ness with each other and their respective instruments, and the different groups of respectful mosh pits that have started since the band started performing. It’s a refreshing sight to see. Angst. Challenging the status quo. Young adults coming together to enjoy the music while being unapologetically themselves. Sex appeal.

The 90s have arrived; and Corroded Coffin is just what Cardinal Records needs.

 “On and on and on and on. On and on and on and on! Don’t wanna grow up, I wanna get out. Hey! Take me away.”

Nodding his head to the song now, the man reaches into his pocket to acquire his business Motorola.

“Curtis,” the man says after a few rings. “Clear my schedule for the next week and a half. I’ve got some meetings to set up immediately.”

“I wanna shout out, take me away, away, away, away, away!”

“Round and round here we go again,” Steve sings, causing the crowd to roar and chant Eddie’s name. “Same old start, same old ends.”

“I don’t care if it was set in stone, I need you to clear them immediately,” the scout hisses. His eyes remain fixated on Corroded Coffin,  “I just found our golden ticket.”

“Turn my head, I turn back again. Same old stuff, never ends.”

“Turn my head, I turn back again. Same old SHIT, never ends.”

And the audience ERUPTS once more. Shocked and ecstatic about the lyric change, Dustin bangs his head in excitement, throwing up two rock-and-roll signs while his notecards fall to the ground.

“He said the S word!” Suzie shrieks. “In front of a bunch of kids? He’s insane.”

He’s awesome, Eddie thinks, grateful at the fact that Steve had a change of heart when it came to the lyrics. 

“Take me away, away, away, AWAY!”

And as planned, Eddie’s guitar solo that he had rehearsed for six weeks sounds through the amphitheater of excited, inspired teenagers. 

Steve’s head bangs rhythmically with the beat, his eyes closed in a moment of pure  bliss. His long hair whips around his face, drenched with sweat that sparkles underneath the stage lights. 

I feel so fucking metal, he thinks to himself.

Eddie mirrors Steve from behind the curtain, ravaging his guitar, allowing his heart to pour from his fingers with a fiery, trance-inducing passion. And with a final, triumphant chord, Eddie thrusts his guitar skywards from behind the stage, his tongue poking out of his mouth from excitement, and the crowd erupts in an ear-splitting ovation, hands clapping, feet stomping, and voices roaring in a collective, euphoric frenzy.

Nancy stares in bewilderment at the sight in front of her. Robin takes notice and finds a cover explanation immediately.

“He’s been hanging around Eddie a LOT,” she says.

———

“MOST. METAL. EVER!”

Steve, Eddie, Dustin, and the rest of Corroded Coffin congregate in a circle, over the moon by the fact that the plan had actually worked out. Like a colony of black rabbits in a carrot field, the group hops around in a state of impermeable bliss, soaking in all the emotions that came with the idea of the beginning of their dreams coming true.

“Most metal, indeed.”

An unfamiliar voice cuts through their celebration, causing them to pause. Steve feels a nudge at his ribcage, placed excitedly there by Eddie. A turn in that direction and everyone grows quiet, unsure whether or not to speak or bow to the mogul in front of them. 

“So this is Corroded Coffin, huh? I’m Gary Feldman, a talent scout for Cardinal Records.”

Eddie shoves Steve forward.

“Th-that’s us!” Steve stammers. “It’s great to meet you, sir. I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson. These are my buddies… Gareth on drums, Jeff on bass, Grant on guitar and keyboard. And these are my other best friends, Dustin, and Steve.”

“Cardinal Records?” Eddie – as Steve – asks, feigning innocence with a hint of mischief. “What’s Cardinal Records?”

Steve catches on quickly, then channels his inner Eddie. 

“Only the most METAL record label in the history of record labels! They’ve produced everyone who’s anyone—probably your favorite artist and your favorite artist’s favorite artist!”

Eddie smiles at Steve’s ability to be such an accurate historian, whether or not it was done on a whim. Meanwhile, Feldman chuckles, clearly flattered at the fact that Steve, or ‘Eddie’, was practically kissing his feet, saying all the right things to get him on his good side.

“The media training is strong with this one.”

Just then, Steve’s confidence wavers. Scared that he ruined their shot, he gulps.

“I wasn’t thinking that, I swear.”

But Feldman laughs heartily, easing the tension.

“I’m just messing with ya, kid,” the talent scout grins. “I like your band, I really do. You guys have a sound I haven’t heard before. And the energy you bring to the crowd is something I haven’t seen in a long time.” 

“Y-you’re serious?!” Eddie can’t help but exclaim. “You… really think my friends are that talented?”

“I don’t just think, I know,” Feldman insists, looking back at ‘Steve’. “I believe you guys have the IT factor we’ve been looking for but have been unable to find. I would like to have Corroded Coffin on board, if you are willing.”

Eddie beams in awe as he watches the interaction take place. Never did he think he would get his foot through the door thanks to Steve Harrington’s rockstar skills. And it seems like all the other guys shared that very sentiment. 

“Here is my card, perhaps we can set up a meeting.”

The card is sleek when Steve takes it in his hand. It’s a glossy jet black color, heavy, and feels very, VERY important. Struggling to find the correct words, the boys nod profusely, smiling ear to ear while taking turns shaking Gary Feldman’s star-and-jewelry-studded hand. And when the recruiter disappears from sight, Eddie is quick to snatch the card out of Steve’s grip.

“Holy shit, we got our foot in the door!” he cheers, high-fiving all of the boys in celebration.

Steve peers over at Eddie with a proud smile. 

“Congratulations, man. I knew that this would be possible.”

Eddie offers him a grateful smile in return. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Harrington.”

Eddie and Steve share a hug. Dustin stares as they do so, palms clasped together like a relieved parent witnessing a rare bonding moment between her children. Although it was a messy process, the mission of his fortune cookie worked. Steve and Eddie finally get along.

Suddenly, Eddie feels the grasp of two gruff palms below his hips.

“Uh, Steve,” Eddie clears his throat. “Can you please get your hand off my butt?”

But Harrington only laughs. “You mean my butt?”

———

“This is so not cool, man,” Argyle grumbles. “SO NOT COOL!”

Wading through a sea of glass beakers and soggy clothes, the gang proceeds to help Dustin clean out his side of the cabin… one last time before saying goodbye to Knowhere forever.

“I agree, why did you have to pack so much?!” Will questions. “You were only gone for six weeks.”

“Hey, I didn’t know what I would need for my last year,” Dustin defends himself. “Also, with my mom gone on her spicy book retreat, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back and get anything.”

“Spicy book retreat?” it piques Argyle’s interest. “Explain.”

“If it’s anything like my mom reads, then you don’t wanna know,” Mike makes a face.

“Says you, sore Paladin. We REAL MEN have a thirst for this type of knowledge. Gotta know how to cater to the ladies, you know what I mean?”

The room fills with disgusted groans. This may be a science camp, but no one had the stomachs to discuss human anatomy at the moment.

Just then, the ground beneath the party rumbles again.

“EARTHQUAKE!” Argyle shrieks, his tone reminiscent of that of a little girl. “FOR REAL THIS TIME!”

“Jesus Chr—” Steve yelps, taking cover underneath a table.

“Here we go again,” Eddie mutters through his gritted teeth.

Everyone takes a form of shelter while the cabin rocks around, Suzie’s influence heavily evident on Dustin as he prays repeatedly for this shit to be over. 

“HOLY SHIT!” Max screams, holding onto some chair legs to stabilize her body.

“WHAT DO WE DO, WHAT DO WE DO, WHAT DO WE DO?!” Lucas cries.

“EVERYBODY, COVER YOUR HEADS!” Dad Eddie yells. “BRACE FOR IMPACT!”

The earthquake makes itself known for a little longer, before fading into complete nothingness. Everyone looks around to see if that was the last of the shaking.  When the coast is finally clear, Argyle is the first to stand up.

“Now that,” he huffs. “Is what you call a California quake. That had to have been a five-point-something.”

When Eddie looks up from his bracing position, he pans his gaze over to Steve. And he’s absolutely elated when the face staring back at him is exactly who it is… Steve.

“Oh my god…” Eddie’s breath hitches. “Harrington.”

“Holy,” Harrington breathes. “Eddie?”

“Did they change back?” Robin mumbles, hands still atop her head as a form of self-regulation.

Everybody’s eyes trail over to Steve and Eddie as they reemerge, watching them palm at each other’s chests in confirmation, laughing delusionally in one another’s faces as they hop around in celebration.

“I don’t…” Steve stammers. “But you… how did we…”

“When what you see is what you lack, then selfless love will change you back,” Eddie recalls in his story-telling voice.

The notion really was the key to empathy, it seems: you never know what someone goes through until you live life in their shoes. A bit too literal for both of their likings, but Steve and Eddie evidently got the picture. It just felt great, being back in their own bodies again.

“I’m really sorry for everything I said about you,” Eddie fesses up immediately. “You really are a pretty amazing guy, Harrington. The kids are lucky to have you.”

“And I’m sorry for always refusing to see your side,” Steve says. “My jealousy, bias? and bitterness wouldn’t allow me to do so. Until I lived through it.”

“Hopefully it’s not too late for us to actually be friends.”

“For sure, man,” Eddie grins. I’ll call ya after that record deal meeting.”

The rocker reaches into his pocket to acquire a gift for Steve. His guitar pick that he used during Show and Tell. Upon it being delicately placed in his palms, Steve looks down at it in admiration, encapsulating it with his fingers to ensure its safety.

“Something to remember me for when Coffin makes it big,” Eddie explains.

The two share a smile once again, ecstatic that this fiasco is all over – but also excited to be burying the hatchet they have been harboring for years. It felt like an end of an era, a catalyst for a new beginning.

“Hey!” Argyle exclaims, his mouth just inches away from the fortune cookie in his hand. “Jonathan and I finally got the same fortune.”

Suddenly, concerned energy fills the room.

“NOOO!” everyone yelps running towards Argyle to knock the pastry out from his hand.

———

“Steeeeve Haaaarrington?”

The bright smile on the young woman’s face catches Steve off guard as he turns around. A flutter of nerves wash over him, but he remains fixed, determined to keep his composure as he feeds into the flirtiness.

“It’s Camp Counselor Steve Harrington, actually,”  the former jock winks. 

“Heard you’re the absolute best.”

“I’m alright, I suppose.”

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hey, Nance.”

It’s been years since Steve and Nancy had a decent conversation. Let alone one where tears weren’t involved. But despite the passage of time, taking in Nancy and all of her beauty still feels brand new to Steve, the mere idea of her making him giddy and bashful, just like the very first time.

“Did you have a good summer?”

“I did,” Steve nods. “And it just got a whole lot better.”

He catches himself immediately.

“Because now Dustin is free, of course,” he babbles.

“Right, right, of course,” Nancy nods along, trying not to blush.

“And we get to hang out again, and he gets to hang out with your brother again…”

“Fun! So fun!” Nancy insists.

“.. and he gets to hang out with Eddie and his band before they go on tour and make it big…”

The two take a moment to sit with the fact. A Hawkins local going to Indy with his band. A retired delinquent, mind you. Yet still the most badass.

“You know…” Nancy speaks again. “I am still kinda curious as to why you’ve been walking around with Eddie Munson’s guitar all night.”

Steve hands her the guitar pick. Confused but intrigued, Nancy takes it from his hand, grazing it with her delicate fingers as Steve closes up the space between them. 

“If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain. Emily Dickinson.”

Suddenly, Nancy appears to realize. Steve’s charm not only transcended time, but now also bodies, it seems. And Nancy knew she recognized those eyes from somewhere.

“Something’s telling me that it wasn’t Eddie that I was talking to in the library…” she speculates.

Steve can only chuckle. “Crazy, right?”

“It’s Hawkins,” Nancy giggles. “Nothing’s crazy to me anymore.”

“Not even me?”

“No, you’re not crazy,” she blushes, biting delicately on her bottom lip. “You’re just an idiot…Steve Harrington.”

“And you’re beautiful, Nancy Wheeler.”

“Uh, gross,” Eddie remarks from a distance.

Eddie nudges Dustin as they watch the two walk off into the sunset. They’ve been eavesdropping and spying this whole time, but Steve and Nancy were too smitten to notice.

“Is it too late to grab a coffee?”

“With you? No never. I heard Newby’s Coffee Roasters is pretty good.” 

“Let’s go.”

The two spies proceed to watch as Nancy and Steve walk away, arm in arm, setting towards Steve’s car to enjoy the rest of their night. 

“How come YOU never take me out for coffee and pastries?” Eddie jokes.

Dustin shrugs, reaching into his pocket to give Eddie an offering. “Here, you want a fortune cookie?”

Having learned his lesson now, Eddie is quick to shut it down.

“Absolutely not.”

EPILOGUE

“I, Sir Eddie Munson, dub THEE,” Eddie announces. “Dustin Randall Henderson, KING of Camp Knowhere.”

The boys chant adorn praises while Steve and Eddie wrap a linen mantle around Dustin’s shoulders. They then issue him a trash grabber to serve as his scepter, along with a dented paper crown from Crispy King to top off the look. Dustin bows at them gracefully.

“Thank you, thank you, my loyal subjects. First order as King — is D&D — with no curfew!”

“D&D, I thought we were watching Alvin and the Chipmunks,” Steve interrupts with a pout.

“Those fruity rodents can wait, Big Boy,” Eddie refuses. “Rise of Kas is tonight. I’ll teach you how to play if you’re game.” 

Steve is about to say something before he stops himself. Hey, why not? After all this time pretending to be Eddie, he never mastered playing a fantasy game.

“I’m in,” Steve humbly shrugs. “Let’s go!”

Everyone cheers before descending towards Mike’s basement, a proud King Dustin watching at the top of the stairs. All his friends are friends. Thanks to his invention. 

“Well don’t you look just ADORABLE?!” Karen Wheeler beams as she makes her way into the living room. “What are you supposed to be?” 

“Dustin Henderson,” he grins proudly, bowing once again. He politely takes Karen’s hand in his and plants playful kisses upon her knuckle. “King of Knowhere, to you, Lady Wheeler.”

“Why am I not surprised?” a cacophonous voice interrupts the beautiful moment.

Off in the corner sits a salty Ted Wheeler, reclined in his stupid LayZ Boy while playing Sudoku like he was last time. And the last time. And the last time. 

Dustin shakes his head. In Ted’s defense, Dustin would hate his life too if every day was the same as the one before. It was just sad. The complete killjoy should have been the last to speak about what Dustin does for fun.

“King of a place called Nowhere,” Ted remarks. “That’s exactly where you’re headed if you don’t start acting your age soon.”

“Oh, you wish you had my child-like whimsy,” Dustin hisses. “Someone’s just upset that they never had a childhood.”

But Mike’s dad fires back. “Someone’s just upset that they can no longer act like a child.”

Curly never understood what Ted Wheeler’s deal was. He’s got a nice house. A smoking hot wife. And three kids who Dustin is blessed enough to call his friends. What more could he possibly ask for? 

“You know what — Theodore?” Dustin demands. “I was going to banish you to my dungeon to embark on a journey towards eternal misery, but it seems like you’re already there, so I shall not issue you better. A true king does not internalize the opinions of common court jesters anyways.”

He chucks Ted a cookie. Hopefully it’ll rid him of his attitude. And replace it with empathy.

“Lucky for you, I don’t discriminate either.” He turns back to Karen and blows her a kiss. “Same time tomorrow?”

Karen rolls her eyes as Dustin starts towards the basement. And just before he joins his loyal subjects for Dungeons and Dragons, the little king stops to read his fortune.

"You are about to embark on a curiosity voyage."

Dustin chuckles to himself.

"...in bed," he adds.

The little king hums happily to himself after popping the cookie into his mouth. There was no way in hell he’s letting Mike’s dad ruin his night. Not anymore.

“Man, I make one mean cookie.”

Meanwhile, ‘Common Court Jester’ Ted Wheeler gives in and goes to eat his fortune cookie as well. A sweet treat every now and then wouldn’t hurt anyways. Oh, the small joys of adult life.

“You know,” Karen speaks up, attempting to lighten the mood. “One of these days you’re going to miss them being this young. Or that you were 17 again, at least.”

“Well it sure isn’t today, I can tell you that much, honey.”

Karen scoffs, evidently accustomed to her husband’s dry humor by now. She then holds up some jell-o that she had made not too long ago.

“Care for some dessert?”

Ted shakes his head, holding up the fortune that came with Dustin’s cookie.

“No, thank you sweetheart, I think I’m set for tonight.”

Ted wipes his mouth as he chews. And, because curiosity got the best of him, he flips the strip of paper over to read his fortune. 

“You are about to embark on a curiosity voyage.”

Ted Wheeler shakes his head and tosses it to the side.

“I’ll say… If there’s one thing I CAN praise Dustin Henderson for, it’s that he makes a great fortune cookie!”

The End 👀🕰️

---

author's note (again): thank you my loves for tuning in and for all your support. want a cookie? 😇🥠

divider credits: @saradika-graphics @silkholland @dreamlandcreations

[sophie1973]

London Boy

Or the evolution of Henry's name in Alex's phone.

It is February 17 and Henry has been ghosting him for 6 fucking weeks.

Alex is in his room at the Residence, lying on his bed with his phone in his hand, abusing his bottom lip with his teeth and wondering what went so horribly wrong that Henry, after weeks of talking, laughing, exchanging jokes and insults and yes, one earth shattering kiss, seems to have erased Alex from his life.

Alex isn’t even angry. He is frustrated. Disappointed. There are millions of questions battling in his head, and no answer to any of them. He closes his eyes, letting out a deep sigh.

One more try.

By the way, I upgraded you in my phone. You are now Prince Henry YUK. Remind me what the Y stands for again?

If Henry ignores this one, Alex might have to resign himself to write him off his life. The idea leaves him with a cold knot in his stomach, but what else can he do ?

He figures that staring at his phone won’t make Henry replies faster (or at all…) so he goes take a shower, hoping against all odds that this is the message that will make a difference. That Henry will read between the lines. Even though at this point Alex doesn’t even know himself what he’s trying to say.

 But when he comes back 10 minutes later, there is no answer. The message doesn’t even appeared to be read.

Another piece of Alex’s heart breaks.

*****

It is the evening after the State dinner, and Alex and Henry are in Alex’s room. Henry was just supposed to hang out with Alex for the day, before catching his flight the next morning. The  official plan was to relax and watch some TV or share some conversation, but in the privacy of Alex’s bedroom, the boys had other ideas.

Now they are both sitting in bed, naked, and enjoying a pint of salted caramel ice cream, childishly battling with their spoon for the last morsel.

When Alex puts the container back on the nightstand, Henry leans against the pillows and gives him a fond look.

“It’s Prince Henry UK. There is no Y and you know it, you insufferable twat.”

Alex laughs happily. “Haha ! So you have been reading my messages.”

Henry shrugs but doesn’t reply. He had told Alex last night what had gone through his head the whole time and how he had tortured himself over that kiss.

Alex takes his phone. “Guess it’s time for another upgrade.” He types something with a smirk on his face and Henry leans in and places his head on his shoulder.

“There,” Alex says, shoving the phone in Henry's face, nearly hitting his nose. Henry squints at the phone first, before a smile lights his face.

“Henry the Maypole”, he reads with a chuckle. “And they say romance is dead.’

Alex turns on his side, facing the young Prince. “But I’m a romantic.One of the many reasons why you like me.”

“I do, actually,” Henry replies, a soft smile on his lips but a serious look in his eyes.

Alex throws his phone away on the bed, his hand coming to stroke Henry’s hair, taking an immense pleasure at such a simple gesture.

“I still don’t know what a maypole is.”

Henry rolls his eyes. “Just Google it. That is, if you know how to use Google.”

Alex sticks out his tongue at him, sliding his hand under the cover and resting it on Henry’s hip. A shiver runs through his body, and Alex is filled with both smugness and elation at the power his touch has on him. Especially since it goes both ways.

“I’d rather Google you,” he says with a suggestive wink as his mouth comes to cover what he knows now is a very sensitive spot on Henry’s neck.

The young man sighs, closing his eyes. “That doesn’t make any sense, but I’m fine with it.”

*****

A phone starts ringing on the other side of the room.

“Alex, I think it’s yours,” Nora  says and he raises his head from behind the pile of binders and papers he was busy with. It’s been 3 weeks of campaigning in Austin, and he feels more and more optimistic about the outcome.

“I’ll get it.” He gets up and quickly jogs to the table but the phone has stopped ringing.

“It read “Henry” with three little red, white and blue hearts”, Nora supplies with a knowing smile. She has come for a few days to give him a hand, and has not grilled him too much so far about the young British Royal.

Alex  clears his throat. “Right. It’s a private joke between us. Because he’s from England, and I’m from…here, and our flags are the same colors…” he finishes lamely.

Nora chuckles. “Relax. I know you’ll spill the good stuff soon. I can be patient.”

Alex smiles and shakes his head. She’s right, and they are overdue for a nice bonding evening.

He presses the call back button with some trepidation.. “Baby, hey.”

“Alex ! Is this a bad time, love?”

Alex almost scoffs at that. Hearing Henry’s voice always provokes a deep feeling of peace and tranquility in the midst of the craziness that is his life right now.

“Not at all. Hearing your voice is exactly what I needed.”

“Listen, I’m trying very hard to clear my schedule and come to see you for a few days. I’ll let you know as soon as I’m able, ok? I miss you.”

“I miss you too sweetheart. I can’t wait for you to be here.”

******

“I can’t find my stupid phone,” Alex grumbles while pulling at the covers and pillows, putting the bed in even more disarray than it already was. It was a few days after the election, and they were still staying at Alex’s family house in Austin.

“You used it last night in bed, so it can’t be far, “Henry says while buttoning his shirt. “Let me call you before you completely trash the place, you vandal,” He offers and takes his own phone from the nightstand.

They immediately hear the familiar ringtone from under the bed, next to where Henry is standing. He looks under it and picks it up. “Here you go,” he tells Alex, before his eyes fall on the screen and a pleased smile curves his lips.

“Really?” he asks, showing the screen that reads  ’Love of my life’.

Alex blushes, taking his phone back. “Yes, so, what of it? You are.” 

“Hey, I think it’s sweet. And adorable. And I love it,” Henry says, leaning to put a kiss on Alex’s lips. Alex hums his pleasure against his mouth, acutely aware of his nerve’s ending every time Henry and him touch.

“What am I in your phone?” he asks, curious.

Henry’ smile dimmed slightly. “Erm…Alex ?”

He takes a step back, crossing his arm,trying for his best offended look.“Alex? That’s just it? Alex ??”

“Well, it came to my understanding that it was, indeed, your name, love.”

“Don’t try and distract me by using fancy British turn of phrases, Fox.” he growls, stabbing his finger in Henry’s chest.

“There is nothing particularly British or fancy in that sentence, but ok. And you are right. I’ll find something more suitable,” Henry replies in a soothing tone, catching Alex’s hand and bringing his knuckles to his lips.

“Suitable,” Alex mimicks, rolling his eyes and pushing him on the bed before straddling him. 

“So…what sounds suitable for you, your Majesty ?”

Henry frowns, biting his lips as if he was in a business meeting and not sprawled on his bed while his boyfriend is slowly unbuttoning the shirt he's just put on a few minutes ago.

“Well, this is an extremely serious matter. I have to think about it. Long and hard,” he finishes with a smirk.

“You’d better,” Alex whispers with a laugh in his ear, before capturing his lips, and soon the phone situation is the last thing on their mind.

*****

A few days later, as Henry is in the shower, curiosity gets the better of Alex and he calls himself on Henry's phone.

The words that appear on the screen make his heart melt.

Future husband

Henry gets out of the shower a few minutes later, drying his hair with a towel. “Did I hear my phone ringing?”

Alex makes a dismissal gesture. “Wrong number. But it doesn’t matter. The answer is yes. I’ll marry you.”

Henry opens his mouth before closing it, his eyes widening slightly in alarm. “What ? I didn’t…Alex….”

Alex laughs and kisses him.

[firstprince-ao3feed]

soulmates star wars and insufferable aresholes

by mae, onthewaytosomewhere (mae) Henry has just witnessed the cinematic moment that has been etched on his skin making him wonder when it would happen from the first time he watched a Star Wars movie when he hears the words as he leaves the theater, it's all he can do to keep from punching the guy who says them ... he's just not sure why he maybe wants to punch him with his mouth and not his fist It's just some boys being silly and falling hard for each other quickly Words: 1824, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Series: Part 4 of my firstprince week 2024 Fandoms: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Percy "Pez" Okonjo, Liam (Red White & Royal Blue), Nora Holleran Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Liam/Percy "Pez" Okonjo Additional Tags: Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, firstprince and southern philanthropy soulmates in one fic - yes yes i did that, cuz why the hell not lolz, i luv them all, they're all very silly, and that's how i luv them, it's kinda crazy how they go from grrr you are the worst to god i need to kiss you forever, but hey that's soulmate magic right lolz, midnight star wars showings when i can't remember if they were still doing them at midnight, but let's just go with it lolz, silly boys falling hard and fast via https://ift.tt/uw0ikVP

[novankenn]

Reluctant Hero?

= Twenty-Five = (Chapter List)

Glynda was fuming, not only was her outfit now stained with the Gods knew what, but she was once again leading a gore coated Jaune Arc and his two... cohorts? Minions? Companions? Through the halls of Beacon after catching them getting high. There were only two differences to currently and the last time. Nora Valkyrie and Cardin Winchester were just a gore covered as Jaune. The second was that she was not using her semblance to corral them.

Glynda: I can not believe the juvenile and inappropriate behaviour you three as exhibiting! You should be ashamed of yourselves. You represent Beacon!

Cardin: Do we? Because I'm kind of under the impression that we didn't finish initiation.

Glynda: I... you...

Nora: Yeah, wasn't there something about getting relics or something? I don't remember finding any relics.

Glynda: It is implied that you...

Jaune: What we passed because we survived? That's cold, and inhuman. I don't think I want anything to do with a school that uses that type of barbarism.

Glynda: (Spins about and points her riding crop in their faces) No... I... ARGH! You three are insufferable!

Nora, Cardin and Jaune looked at each other, then back at Professor Goodwitch.

Cardin: So how are we representing Beacon?

Gynda: You are representatives of Beacon because the Headmaster has decided you are.

Jaune: Why exactly? It's not like we did anything.

Glynda: The Headmaster can explain it to you when you see him, and after you explain why you turned our morgue into a slaughterhouse.

Jaune: Um... dead coming back to life. Need to destroy the head to stop them. It's kind of self-evident.

Glynda's face started turning red as her frustration and anger slowly grew. She froze when she heard the voice of another person in the hall behind her.

????: Jaune?

Jaune: (Leans to the side to peer around Professor Goodwitch) Pyr?

Pyrrha: (Moving up the hallway using a set of crutches.) I was so worried about... (stops and eyes the gore streaked trio) What happened to you? Why are you all so gooey?

Jaune: Long story, so I'll give you the short, short version. Okay?

Pyrrha: Okay.

Jaune: Deadites.

Pyrrha: Huh?

Nora: Yeah, that sums it up.

Cardin: Couldn't have said it better myself.

Jaune: How are you doing, since I... you know...

Pyrrha: Cut off my leg below the knee?

Jaune: (Rubs the back of his neck with a blood coated hand) Yeah... that.

Pyrrha: I'm okay.

Jaune: That's... that's good.

Pyrrha: Can I talk to you... alone?

Jaune: We're on our way to see the Headmaster, maybe after that?

Pyrrha: That would be lovely.

Jaune: Okay, it's a date.

Pyrrha: (Blushing) A... a... a date?

Nora: It's a figure of speech, you thirsty wench.

Glynda: (Clearing her throat) Ms Nikos, you shouldn't be wandering the halls, without clearance from the Doctor.

Pyrrha: It's fine. I feel fine.

Glynda: It is not fine. You should be resting. So, please return to your room, while I escort these... three to the headmaster.

Pyrrha: Yes professor.

Jaune: Chin up Pyr, I'll be back to see you as soon as the Headmaster finishes with us.

Pyrrha: Hope to see you soon.

Pyrrha hobbled out of the way, as Glynda once again started her stalking walk through the halls, with three gore coated students following close behind her.

[coldflasher]

Salty ask list, 9 & 16? 👀

9. Most disliked character(s)?

Dion. Fucking Dion. I hate that bastard SO MUCH. I hate the entire forces plotline and basically all of season 7 but there is something about Dion in particular that I just LOATHE. Tbf when he was first introduced in his first ep I was okay with him but the more they leaned into the all-powerful force god side of things, the more my hatred grew... if Dion has no haters, I am dead

I also HATE that snide reporter (Taylor?) who works for Iris. The ep where she tries to sacrifice that one woman to those terrorists to save her own neck and outs Allegra as a metahuman and then by the end of the ep we're supposed to be cool with her? NO. I HATE HER.

Then there's Nash wells. My least favourite Wells. I hated him sliiightly less on my last rewatch but he's still the worst Wells. He literally led to the destruction of the multiverse because of his own stupidity. Like whyyyy did we keep getting lumped with all these increasingly irritating Wells doppelgangers when we could have just had Harry. And then Harry AND HIS WHOLE UNIVERSE gets erased BECAUSE OF NASH. I HATE THAT MAN.

And you know who else I... not hate, but find highly annoying? Khione. I actually think she could have been interesting if she had been a fusion of Caitlin and Frost and we actually got to see a version of the character that had grown and embraced both sides of herself instead of having these fractured identity states, but instead they just erased them both and gave us the most boring, insipid, flavorless replacement. Khione is such a Mary Sue. She's sooo perfect and kind and powerful with her magic nature powers!! Don't you love her? NO. NO I DON'T. We had 8 seasons of Caitlin and 7 of Frost (in some form) and I found it cheap and disrespectful of both their characters to kill them both off at the last minute and replace them with some wishy-washy hippy version with no personality and expect me to care about her (bear in mind that i haven't seen the end yet and i believe there is a bit more to the storyline that i havent got to see yet but either way i find her so annoying)

I feel in the early seasons there are no characters I actually hate because most if not all of them either had redeeming features or were compelling to watch but the later seasons were rife with insufferable characters who we're meant to like but just absolutely boiled my piss. like of these, only taylor was meant to be a villain and even then she gets a "redemption arc" of sorts but it wasn't enough for me. i wasn't buying it. taylor they could never make me like you

16. If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

I mean the obvious answer is stop Len leaving, or at least bring him back, but barring that I would make Andrew Kreisberg not be a piece of shit so that we could have stuck with his original vision for the show and had it be good forever. Like. They were setting up some seriously good and interesting shit and there were so many cool plot threads and he seemed to have planned so many things years in advance but sadly he's a diabolical person. the industry is well rid of him for that reason but if I could wave a wand and make him be a good and normal person then I would do that. why are good showrunners so often terrible people >:(

barring that... i'd redo crisis entirely. i think they totally bottled that storyline. having it tied up with oliver was a HUGE mistake, they'd been building up to crisis and barry's disappearance since day 1 of the show and the way it went down was such an unbelievable disappointment and a disservice to the show as a whole imo.

also, i love them but i would seriously cut down bart and nora's role in the show, because it made the dynamics weird and aged westallen way before their time. just give them a spinoff or something. and i would get rid of any and all plotlines related to the forces but that goes without saying

[kinaesthetiqueer]

occasionally i will think "you know just because you said you weren't going to split any more chapters doesn't mean you actually don't have to. you could drop half of this chapter now just cause"

but then i remember that if i was going to split this, it should have been at the end of wednesday night. 21 covers wednesday combat through early friday morning.

and that would mean for sense's sake, posting this hypothetical chapter between 19 and 20. and considering where 19 ended, that would have been mean as fuck

but there used to be 22 chapters in arc i. i can't remember why that was a thing logistically. all i remember is that giving nora 18 let me collapse some time and reduce that total to one less. also because originally in my outline, nora didn't get any pov chapters until after the bite. which wouldn't have been as bad since it would have been chapter 10 (and not 21) but can you imagine how NUTS i would have gone without any nora chapters for that long? gods if you thought i was insufferable now

anyways this is just gonna have to be an XXk chapter. it's already 25k, which is longer than the last two combined. so you know. :)

[wonkyjaw]

Some TSC things I can’t stop thinking about that I haven’t seen mentioned yet:

Jean (and likely Riko) had no idea the Foxes knew as much as they did… and Jean already thought the Foxes were crazy for keeping Kevin and Neil.

Dealing with Neil over Christmas Break was a “salve for Jean’s sanity” despite how hard Neil made things for them by fighting back and despite having “a longer leash” than Kevin was ever afforded. Despite Zane’s reaction to Neil’s reappearance.

The fact that Kevin knew just from Jean's reaction to him mentioning Neil didn't sign the Raven contract that he and Riko had waterboarded Neil. Like… the implications of that????

Subpoint: Does Neil even realize that’s what happened or has he fully blocked it out??

I can’t tell if I’m just getting older or if Jeremy and Jean’s view of Wymack makes him that much more… compelling.

Jeremy’s POV during the Foxes v Trojans game. The way the Foxes picked Trojans back up so casually endearing them to Jeremy. Just that when they weren’t fighting for their lives, Foxes had time to spare energy on just being kind in a way no one had cared to see before but it’s important to Jeremy. Ugh.

Jeremy used the phrase “duty-bound” more than once to describe things he didn’t want to necessarily do. What the fuck is up with that?

Also, sir, why is your rich white ass hiding from cops. I would like the tea, please.

Renee’s rediscovered simple delights being “butterflies, fresh baked bread, the crunch of leaves on an autumn morning.” And then Jean taking that idea up and consistently listing his own simple delights as he discovered them (it might kill me yet).

“Her love was so tender it looked like grief” (I am going feral what the fuck)

Bee getting Jean to talk to her by pretending to know less than nothing about Exy and after Jean goes off about it she explains she did it because she was curious if he cared enough to explain it to her. That she wasn’t sure if they were at the court for comfort or contrition and the fact that she specifically used the word contrition…

Also the fact that she likely brought up with the goals look like because everyone seems to be under the impression that the goal has a net for some reason? I’ve read so much fanfic, the goal always gets described a hundred different ways, part of me feels like this was Nora’s way of saying “no you’re wrong!” And I laughed really hard when I read it.

Also also, I would kill to know what all Bee knows.

After the Raven game Jean made a list of every time Kevin and Neil got bullied by the Raven backliners and by the end had four full pages of scathing remarks about it. I’m not sure what to read into that, but it has not left my mind since I read it.

All of the background noise when Renee calls Jean and tells him not to watch the news. Glass breaking and yelling, a scene I’ve always wanted was Neil telling (or not) the rest of the Foxes about Riki’s death. So these little insights are so tantalizing. Wait, dear god, is it in the EC?

Jeremy’s conversation with his sister??? How a new scandal was overdue because he should end the way he started??? Neil didn’t give a shit about the Trojans and Jeremy refuses to think about it so now I’m desperate to know what the fuck that meant. Along with the comment about a fall banquet tearing his family apart????

The fact that every time Jean refers to Neil/Kevin/Andrew/Nicky’s room in Fox Tower it is always always just Neil’s room. It’s so funny to me.

Renee gave Jean her cross 😭

Wymack flew with Jean to California only to fly directly back to South Carolina. Jean referred to Wymack as unreal and I so fully agree.

Jeremy’s yo-yo.

The random “fan” calling Jean “Gene Moore” making me realize that there’s a large amount of people who would not know how to pronounce his name and how insufferable that’s going to end up being when he’s forced to handle the media and public more often.

Jean just casually grabbing Jeremy by the chin… more than once.

“You are not them.” Vs. “I won’t be like them. I won’t let you let me be.”

“I’m fine.” Vs. “Accidents happen in scrimmages.”

“Don’t I at least deserve the chance to not be a villain in your story?”

Jean breaking a glass when Cat mentions Laila was going to get him a sex toy. Jeremy making it to the kitchen in record time.

“You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner.” Vs. “You’re Neil Josten. You’re starting striker for the Palmetto State Foxes. Your father is dead. You are safe.”

[wesawbears]

6, 12, 16, 22, and 25? Your choice of fandom for each

Which ship fans are the most annoying: Already answered for aftg so I'll go with glee cause I was watching youtube videos last night and say k*aine. This harkens back to my early days of Tumblr, but no discourse has ever compared to sam/kurt fans versus klaine fans in 2010. Met the most insufferable people, but they also met me, etc.

Unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them: I don't have one for aftg so I'll say House of the Dragon and that people who think Jace are boring are objectively wrong, I will fight

You can't understand why so many people like this thing: For aftg...I don't understand the appeal of Raven!Neil. I don't *dislike* it, it just doesn't appeal to me

Your favorite part of canon that everyone ignores: Can I say Kevin's entire character lol? If not, I'll say Neil being smart, because I think people have taken the "Neil being oblivious/dumb jock" joke too far

Common fandom complaint you're tired of hearing: Everyone in the fandom is now required to submit a 5 page minimum essay to me showing you have read and understood the extra content before complaining that Nora doesn't understand her own characters.

Thanks!!!

[pseudophan]

nora do you like kpop?? i feel you could be really into moonbyul

no any chance of me ever getting into kpop was ruined when all my phannie friends became kpoppies and half of them turned into just vile people because of it lmao, there's a lot of talented kpop idols and i get why people lose their minds over it but it was tainted for me before i even had a chance. which is good! imagine me in a kpop fandom! i'm insufferable enough as it is

[stormc97]

Nora tries to get you to listen to her woes, but you’ve had enough of her insufferable voice. You tighten the ponytail slightly thus your wince at her voice may be assumed to be that instead. Her voice is cracking. She’s talking about crops not growing, work force dying, and children screaming. It’s like she didn’t listen to your parent’s tales from the Human Natives. There was an old story… The Sun and the Moon and their chase. The people abhorred the Moon because they thought they needed more day.

So the Moon obeyed, even though they didn’t have to. The exact horrors from that story are what Nora brought about. Seems those old tales are wise. But, sadly for Nora, you were not as forgiving as Moon had been. You were exiled, she needed to fully understand the consequences of that type of thing being done.

“Ciara, please, I need help…” stated Nora. It had been long time since anyone used your name, well before the Hero’s time… Maybe 3,000 years ago. You finally asked “And when was the last you called me by name, Oh wondrous Goddess of Light? When was the last time you called me, the Treacherous Goddess of the Darkness, your sister?…”

She stuttered and tried to start another line, but you intervened “It was rhetorical… It was the last time you needed something from me. 3,000 years ago, correct? And then you decided ‘Oh, I don’t need my sister anymore just because Corporations give me lavish donations’. Where are those Corporations now that the day never ends and no one can work due to exhaustion? Unable to produce product for you. Unable to give you tributes of food, clothes, and other material goods.”

She pleaded “The humans— they tricked me— They-.” You replied “How dare you frame someone else for YOUR decision to tell the Hero how to EXILE me. You accepted Bribery. Now, the Elder Gods and Goddesses are being summoned to solve the mess YOU made. They won’t be happy about YOU having a hand in exiling ME, your equal, your opposite, your ally.”

You relaxed in your seat as you regarded your elder sister. “Why should I help clean up your mess? Why should I when all you’ve given my existence is Ignorance? I have acknowledged you all my life and tried to help you and advise you… All I’ve got to show for that is Ignorance and being Exiled. Great… Do me a favor and see yourself out.”

She replied “You could have stopped me?” You, in turn nodded and stated callously “Stopping you would have been easy… However, I recall as I was struggling to start my path as a Goddess, someone saying certain things must be learned the hard way, without any help.”

She questioned “Why make the innocent suffer? Why? They didn’t do the wrong, I did.” You stood as the shadows around the room grew bigger. “You may have done the wrong, but as we learned from the Elders ‘ANY and ALL mistakes of ours affect the humans. No matter the size of the mistake.’.. So I believe I told you to leave and resolve this yourself. You did want to be the only one at the top, and you got it. If the Elders have to fix it, I’ll leave this place. For now though… All Hail the Goddess of Glorious Light.”

You forcefully teleported Nora. Time for another drink… Perhaps something strong… After all, you’re likely to be interrogated by the Elders at the rate things are going. And that will be another spectacle.

(Nora: Irish, Light, possibly derived from ‘Honora’) (Ciara: Irish, “Little Dark One”, also Kiera comes from this) (The myth I mentioned does exist, but it has been a very long time since I was taught about it in school, so I put the bits I remembered and I don’t remember who it came from people wise.)

Your sister the goddess of light and her chosen heroes have sealed you the god of darkness away. You relax in your eternal exile, when you are brought back years later by your desperate sister. You know exactly what she wants and why she brought you back.

[aiden-stevens]

👄 + nora

“Sometimes I think, when I look at Nora, that something decided that the world needed more than one of me, and created her. I say that because I was born a day earlier, so it needed to decided to decide what level of fuckery it wanted to be put out there. Then May third, Nora was born.

Partners in crime. We were meant to cross paths, and I’m not typically a fate guy. Just why would my mom pick Aurora Bay of all places when she’s rich as fuck? Huh? Doesn’t make much sense, I could’ve ended up kicking it in Beverly Hills. But nah, this town needed its double dose. I’m glad for it, because outside of Fiona and Mack, she’s the only person who can meet my level of ‘fuck around and find out’.

She meets it more than either of them. I mean, who else threatens the police when I’m in the back of the patrol car? Or wants to go get high and destroy shit? It’s more than that, I’d do anything for her, which includes sitting, hungover in my bathroom, while she tells me about her escapades. I think that really says something there.

I missed her when she was in New York. Not that I texted her much, I don’t like to be insufferable, but when I found out she was back in town, I was happier than a pig in shit. My ride or die came home.”

@noralevin