#teenage music driven

[can-a-tuna-fish]

Guys Rich was actually in Jeremy and Michael’s failed middle school D&D party, the only reason they don’t remember him is cause it was before he transitioned! Ugh! AND Jenna was there for a bit too, but she dropped the club because nobody paid attention while she was taking her turns :((

[thewhizzyhead]

anyways I've been relistening to mean girls the musical the past few weeks and one tiny thing I liked about the musical is how they established the similarities between Regina and Janis - particularly through similar habits ("those bITCHES!"), sharing Someone Gets Hurt, and through their friendship with Cady (though there are VAST differences there, I'd like to believe that both Janis and Regina were genuinely interested in being friends with Cady even if they had their own selfish and manipulative agendas with her).

However, I admit that I was rather disappointed that this point in the movie's Janis and Cady fight wasn't featured that much in the musical's counterpart: Janis saying, "At least me and Regina George KNOW we're mean." Though this was somewhat shown through Janis singing, "I hate Regina's guts, but here's what you can't comprehend: at least she has the guts to not pretend to be my friend!" (Which also in turn emphasizes the emotional impact had on Janis), it sadly did not show the point the movie tried to make: that both Janis and Regina are Mean Girls and that both KNOW it - unlike Cady who would like to believe that she herself is in the right.

[ervotica]

maybe mean!rafe x crybaby!reader? he gets mad at her for not sitting down on the couch with him and he yells at her, dragging her by her wrist and forcing her to sit with him… only if you’re okay with it(I’ve never requested anything before)

warnings; mean!rafe, dom/sub undertones, brat taming, crybaby!reader, barry is a shit stirrer but we love him for it <3

a/n; thanks for the request, angel! hope you enjoy🥰 (side note; may or may not be thinking abt being rafe & barry’s shared gf😍 they’re just too hot together jfc)

You get agitated in a sort of frenzied way that has always driven Rafe insane; you start to twitch, tapping heel clad feet and cracking knuckles until the sound of it has his jaw ticking in vexation.

You're rocking back and forth on your heels, red solo cup clutched between clammy palms; you can see Rafe in your peripheral vision, never letting him too far out of your line of sight in fear of being left to fend for yourself at one of these parties packed with drug-addled teenagers.

The smell of cheap, stale beer and sweat pervades your senses and you cringe, the blaring music paired with the way Rafe is staring you down- cerulean eyes piercing straight through you- forcing your brain into overdrive.

"Would you quit it and come sit down already?" Rafe snaps, thick digits outstretched as an offering for you to take; your lip spills into a pout, tightness pulling at every inch of your skin as the tension pools and gathers between your crumpled brows.

"I don't wanna," you whine, dragging out every syllable plaintively until he's standing, storming towards you with a thunderous expression carved into his features that you're not often on the receiving end of.

"I told you to fucking sit down! What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Can't even do as you're told, can you?"

You feel the tears tickling at your waterline the second he raises his voice, your gaze snapping up to him as the first wave spills over your wide eyes.

"For God's sake, kid. Come sit down," he grouses. His tone softens when your expression crumples and he hooks a thick bicep around your neck, drawing you into the warm expanse of his chest. You're pulled along in short, shuffling steps until your bum hits the leather couch and Rafe's bruising grip digs into your calves to splay them haphazardly across his lap.

"You're mean," you sniff, backs of your fingers smearing across your teary eyes until they're caked in black. He pinches your thigh before delivering a firm swat to the afflicted area, his arms a vice around your squirming body as you try to free yourself.

“I told you to sit down and be fuckin’ quiet. Take a nap or something, cranky pants.” He rolls his eyes, fingers spreading across your jaw to settle your head in the hollow of his shoulder.

You grumble something indecipherable before he feels you go slack on top of him, lashes fluttering as you fight the fog of fatigue that invades every inch of your skull. He smears a kiss along the curve of your forehead.

“Y’alright, Princess?” Barry queries, only amused by Rafe’s sudden glaring of daggers at the shorter man. “Country club bein’ mean, huh?”

“She’s fine,” Rafe snips as you stir and start to whine once again. “Just bein’ a brat. Needs a rest ‘s all.”

“Rafe.”

“I swear to fuckin’ God, kid. You be quiet or I will spank you raw in front of all these people.”

You sigh and curl up and into his embrace, exhaustion settling heavy in your bones once he cages you into his chest with a firm squeeze.

“Good girl.”

[degreesofpetal]

Hihi! I read an ask recently about whether Whitney would choose PC over his status and friends if he had to make a choice and Vrelnir said Whitney would choose PC. I think that’s really cool since he seems super focused on staying top dog in the game so I’m wondering how you think that would go down?

OH ANON. I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS ANON.

Whitney choosing PC

Whitney cares about his position. As vain as it is, he does. Perhaps more than anything in the world. Until you came along, that is. There are two versions of Whitney. There's before you, and there's after you.

Before you, Whitney was tough.

Before you, Whitney was hypervigilant. Ready for whatever threat would test him next.

Before you, Whitney was selfish. He cared more about himself than you or any other person, by a long shot.

Or you, matching his tenacity with the same force, using your strength for good. Like a lightning strike, showing him that there's more to life than just toughness and crushing those beneath you.

Before you, Whitney was cruel. There's no escaping that simple fact; he was cruel. He was vicious and nasty, all teeth and claws. He never would've dreamt of letting someone get close to him. Until you.

But then, there was you. You, in all of your gentle glory. Like a beam of light, illuminating his darkest parts and showing him how life could be.

Or you, like a bolt of lightning, slicing through his darkest days like a hot knife through butter. You, in all your strength and toughness, showing him that there was more to being strong than crushing those beneath you.

Before you, Whitney was a shell. As much as he tried to hide it, the world that tormented you had tormented him, too. He was broken, but he'd never let anyone see that. Not even his closest friends. And then there was you.

You, who brought him out of his shell.

You, who showed him what life could be.

You, who showed him what he could be.

Once he had you, he knew he couldn't let you go. Not for anything. Even if that meant giving up what had meant the very most to him for so long- his status.

One day, he's getting up to his usual antics with his friends, when you come around.

"Oh, look, it's your little pet." His friends would chide, elbowing each other and laughing. Whitney would crack a cocky smile and make his way over to you, ushering you over to the crowd of people he'd been hanging out with. "Yup," He'd reply, claiming you proudly in front of everyone.

For awhile, everything would be going normally. You'd talk shit with the rest of them, breaking things and spitting and whatever else teenage dirtbags get up to. But eventually, you'd all get sick of just standing on a random street corner, and you'd decide to go back to someone's house. You'd arrive under Whitney's arm. You'd all drink and smoke and talk, but you'd notice that the whole time, Whitney's eyes never leave you. That is, until he needs to use the bathroom.

As soon as Whitney leaves a switch is flipped. You realize with a start that these people are not your friends. They were only ever cordial to you because Whitney was there. And now that he wasn't, they were more than happy to take advantage of your inebriated state. You'd whimper and cry out, but your feeble voice would get lost in the blaring music. By the time Whitney returns an eternity has passed and your shirt is on the ground. Your face is drenched in tears, ruddy and red while you do the best to fight despite the alcohol flowing through your veins.

Whitney sees the scene in front of him and he sees red. CRACK goes one bottle, over someone's head. "Fuck!-" Someone yells, as the broken butt of that same bottle is driven into their arm. "What the hell Whitney?" Someone holding onto you would yell, dropping you on the floor and leaving you to try and cover yourself. Whitney would drag you to his side by your arm, holding you up like a bag of luggage and looking at the small gang of people with a glower you've never seen before in his eyes. He'd drop the bloodied bottle he was holding and spit onto the ground, before leaving the scene behind him- carrying you in tow.

From that day on, Whitney no longer had his "friends" at his every beck and call. But that didn't matter to him, not a bit. Because he had you- and he wasn't going to let you go.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You try and take Tangerine to the movies to cheer him up.

Prompt: "Watch where you're going! You almost took my eye out with that thing!" - "I've never heard a bigger lie."

~ for you my lovely @j23r23! love you and thank you for always supporting my writing! ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

BLURB MASTERLIST

When Tangerine is in a bad mood, he usually manages to turn everyone else in a bad mood.

This evening, he's being particularly moody as he mopes around your shared apartment, feeling crushed that he and Lemon lost one of their big jobs to some rival assassin.

You're curled up on the couch, scrolling through your phone as he paces in front of you, muttering curses and insults at his rival. Lemon is in his room, listening to some music. He seemed fine with not doing the job, but his brother is very obviously spiraling from not having something to do this evening.

"Tan," you say, pulling Tangerine's attention to you, and then you smile a genuinely happy smile. "Wanna go see a movie with me?" you ask, to cheer him up. 

Tangerine looks at you like you're insane. "No," he deadpans. 

You narrow your eyes at him, only slightly hurt. "No? Then what? You're gonna complain uselessly the entire evening like a loser?" you laugh lightheartedly.

Tangerine's cheeks turn bright red. "Fuckin' pardon me?"

You stand and smile kindly at him again, rushing up the stairs to your room to change and call to him, "Be ready to leave in ten minutes or I'm taking Lemon instead."

Your threat clearly works because soon, you're standing in the line for popcorn. Tangerine is holding the tickets for the movie in his hand and he intends on paying for your popcorn too—even though he doesn't outwardly look happy about it. 

While you ramble on and on about what kind of candy you think he would want considering he'd turned down popcorn, a teenage couple, dressed in costumes for some new superhero movie, almost bumps into him and the boy's prop almost smacks Tangerine in the eye.

He groans and then grabs the boy's arm just as he almost hits you. 

"Oi, watch where yer goin'! Ya almost took m'eye out with that thing!" Tangerine exclaims.

You frown, sensing the couple's fear as they stumble away. You hold Tangerine's forearm, calming him down. "Alright there, barky," you tease with a smaller smile, "I don't think they meant to almost hit you."

Almost hit you, Tangerine wants to correct you because he didn't give a shit if that thing had hit him.

He eyes lose any hint of violence, however, when he hears your voice but then his eyebrow shoots up in question. 

"Barky?"

You laugh, not meaning it badly. You never do. "Yeah. You're like a guard dog sometimes. Although, you're always all bark and never any bite." 

Not with you, he thinks again but he doesn't say it aloud as he just huffs and walks closer to the counter to order your snacks.

Tangerine finds the movie incredibly irritating and he almost walks out multiple times. The only thing keeping him with you is you. The way you laugh along to the corny jokes, the way you squeeze his hand sometimes when something a little scary happens during the action, and the way you'll look so captivated by the romance scenes.

As the movie continues, Tangerine's attention has turned to you. He's barely watching the screen now as he finds you much prettier than anyone on the screen. 

Once the movie is finished and you're walking back to his car (because yes, he'd also driven you here), he comments, "If I'd known that tosser was in it, I wouldn' hav' gone," Tangerine snarls.

"Who?" you ask curiously, looping your arm in his as you keep him close. Tangerine looks at you and he sees how you're shivering. Without a word, he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and continues the conversation as if nothing happened, his arm still wrapped around your shoulder like a teenage boy who'd just made a move.

You smile and pull his jacket closer around you. It smells like him. 

"That Ryder prick," Tangerine says, "He's so fuckin' unbearable."

You pause and feel warmth in your cheeks as Tangerine continues and adds, "I know you think he's hot and all—"

"I never said that— I don't think he's hot!" you snap immediately, defending yourself.

Tangerine laughs and rolls his eyes. "I 'av never heard a bigger lie," he says and pokes your cheek, grinning wolfishly, "you were practically drooling all over yourself."

Your heart skips and you look at him, retorting, "and how would you know? Why were you looking at me during the movie, Tan?"

He knows you've caught him and he pauses, finally laughing. "Okay, fuckin' touché, darlin'." Tangerine shrugs and only pulls you closer to him.

"You're way more interesting than some stupid movie anyway, can ya blame me?"

Tangerine is relaxing, his tense demeanor from earlier in the evening has vanished and you smile. This is what you wanted. You feel successful in cheering him up and making him forget about his damned work for a while. You like his company and you smile up at him. 

"Okay, rate the movie out of ten," you say, grinning.

"Three, because I had to watch that arsehole think he can act," Tangerine says and just as you open your mouth to protest, his lips hit your temple and you tense, a familiar warmth spreading inside your chest. "But then ten because I got to spend some time with my favorite girl."

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion

[an-au-blog]

more zosan reversed tropes bc uni wants me dead and this is my way of coping:

not fake dating, but where everyone is super convinced that they aren't ACTUALLY dating...

One day, Zoro and Sanji call everyone over and announce that they are getting engaged. It comes as a big shock to almost everyone because: 1. they say it too matter-of-factly, with disdain almost; 2. they never told anyone they were dating. Luffy, being Luffy is very happy for them and tells them they can't get married if he doesn't wed them as their captain. They respond that they never expected anything else. Robin and Franky congratulate them, Brook starts getting ready with the music, but Nami and Usopp? Nami and Usopp couldn't believe it. And they refused to let everyone else believe this lie. They decided that both Sanji and Zoro are lying, but why??

They make a makeshift investigation, but it turns out that Luffy and Robin genuinely believe them, Franky and Jinbei think it's none of their business and they can't bring themselves to break it to Chopper and Brook because they were too happy to attend a wedding. Soit was up to Nami and Usopp to prove to everyone else that there was no way they're dating.

At first they start looking at how they interact with each other. It was obvious they were faking it - they never started bickering and fighting and even when they just sat in silence Sanji would throw a ladle in Zoro's direction because he's snoring too loud. Or Zoro would make a biting comment about Sanji and it would start all over again.

But that was how they usually were, so it wouldn't prove much if some of their friends were so willing to accept their announcement at face value knowing they act like this. So Nami takes upon talking to Zoro in private, while Usopp talks to Sanji in private.

At first, Nami starts telling him how she would take money off his debt if he tells her the truth, but then he says the same thing that he said to the crew. That yes, the cook is a pain in the ass, but they love each other and want to get married. She threatens to tax him for lying, but he keeps insisting there's nothing else to say. She meets up with Usopp again, hoping that he did a better job than her, but he just said that Sanji caught onto him from the start saying it's for real and whatever he's scheming will not work.

They change tactics and switch partners, hoping that Nami will have more luck with Sanji, as he can't say no to her, and Usopp can try getting under Zoro's skin.

Usopp starts off by telling Zoro about how a great swordsman should have a nice and powerful partner, mentioning Hiyori, but then the unexpected happens and starts almost defending Sanji as his choice. "Sanji is stronger and nicer than her." "He's a worthy opponent and we already have the same priorities (Luffy)", "He's stubborn and driven, it's great." he says it all with a shrug and Usopp almost feels like he misheard him. "But you always fight?" Usopp says as a last resort. Zoro smiles widely "Yeah, it keeps me on my toes, my blood pumping. I love him so much, Usopp."

The sniper wasn't sure he wanted to prove they weren't a couple anymore. In fact he was starting to believe them. Nami came back with an equally defeated face. Nami tried using her charm, but Sanji kept going "Alas, my dearest Nami, Zoro and I are really getting married, unfortunately it is no joke. Unless you'd like me to take you out on a date!" And in desperation, Nami said "yes", but then Sanji flipped a switch. Saying there's no way, he was just joking and he'd never do that to Zoro. He's done self sabotaging and he really doesn't want to ruin things for them.

Robin overheats then and goes. "Oh, why didn't you ask me. I've seen them sneaking into toilets and private places like teenagers for months now."

And the theory had been debunked.

[ghostofbambifanfiction]

CYOA

You know what screw it, I wanted to finish chapter 59 today but I feel horrible and it's just not going to happen so for now you can have this completed scene under the cut with my great affection love love peace peace feel free to react as it'll make me happy etc. etc.

Private WhatsApp Chat Resumed: Friday 18th March, 2022, 07:57 Members: Lily Evans, James Potter

================================

James Potter: i think it's pretty amazing that you and beatrice know the exact date that you first met when you were two

Lily Evans: Lollllll Hello to you too

James Potter: although idk how sirius would react if we knew and i suggested celebrating that hello, also beautiful hello beautiful is what i meant to say

Lily Evans: Suave of you.

James Potter: i'm only just having my first coffee of the day, alright? give me five minutes and i'll be on my game

Lily Evans: I suppose I can allow you five minutes. We didn't always know, but my mum's been journaling every day for most of her life, so a few years back we did a little detective work and it turns out she'd written about my first day at Little Tots. We've done something for our anniversary every year since, but she's blown my gift out of the water this time around.

James Potter: why, what was your gift?

Lily Evans: I bought her a ladyship. She's Lady Beatrice Booth now. Officially. Incredibly it only costs £30 and you get a tiny plot of land in Cumbria with it. I gave the pack to her housemate to leave out today so she'll get a huge kick out of it when she gets home later.

James Potter: how ironic is it that you got her a ladyship and i was looking into getting her canonised earlier

Lily Evans: Lol why?

James Potter: because i really really really liked that video, evans

Lily Evans: I see. I see. I see. Not embarrassed about you having seen that AT ALL. Although I suppose I don't have a right to be embarrassed when I've seen all of your childhood photos, do I? It was probably about time that you saw some of mine.

James Potter: what would you have to be embarrassed about? you were an adorable child i loved watching you grow up on an instagram reel with, inexplicably, flo rida's musical accompaniment

Lily Evans: Lollllllllll I know that probably seems like a weird choice, but it was our go-to dance song when we were eighteen. And on that note, I was a very awkward teenager, as you've now seen.

James Potter: almost everyone on earth was an awkward teenager and the ones who weren't awkward peaked in their teens, so think of how they've suffered since then although i guess sirius is the exception anyway you say you were awkward, but fifteen year old me would have been DESPERATE for fifteen year old you's attention

Lily Evans: Oh, you say that now.

James Potter: no i would have been and i wouldn't have gotten it because as we've previously established i was a prick when i was fifteen so if i'd gone to school with you i still would have been a prick, but a prick who wanted your attention and did all manner of stupid things to get it i would have driven you mad

Lily Evans: Twenty-seven year old you wants my attention and I've not been driven mad over it once, to be fair.

James Potter: twenty-seven year old me has much improved with age and is more deserving of it you however have been a delight your whole life which i now have visual proof of hence i'll be calling your best mate saint lady beatrice from now on

Lily Evans: I wasn't a delight my whole life, I promise you. As a child I was a precocious little shit who thought she knew everything and couldn't be told otherwise. That's why I got into so many scrapes, doing stupid, dangerous things because I couldn't just listen to my mother when she told me "no, Lily, that's dangerous." I was like a working class Peppa Pig, honestly, no wonder my sister couldn't hack being around me half the time. So you're not the only one who has much improved with age. And fifteen year old me would have had a massive crush on fifteen year old you, BELIEVE me.

James Potter: oh really?

Lily Evans: Would I have let you know about it? Absolutely not. But it still would have been there.

James Potter: you mean like the crush you've had on me this whole time?

Lily Evans: I already have to get you back for some nonsense you pulled yesterday, Potter, so I'd advise you not to pile on and add this to the list.

James Potter: lollllllll

Lily Evans: I'm serious!

James Potter: oh i'm sure you are to which i say go on then do it

Lily Evans: I will do it.

James Potter: you go right ahead i can handle it

Lily Evans: You're being very cocky right now and while I can't pretend I don't like it, it'll also prove to be your downfall later.

James Potter: we'll see, we'll see

Lily Evans: We will see.

James Potter: whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart

Lily Evans: I think the fifteen year old you has taken over the controls in your head, mate.

James Potter: he probably has, yeah but what can i say he's really chuffed about your crush on me

Lily Evans: You mean the crush you've decided I have that I haven't confirmed?

James Potter: right, yeah, of course, clearly i'm the one in the wrong here still sleeping in my bed, are you?

Lily Evans: I have to go do a work thing now.

James Potter: oh, sure, that old excuse

[mischiefmaker615]

Interior Motive

Summary: a simple game of truth or dare brings out one of your greatest fantasies

Rating: R

Requested By: @LiahAerians (Wattpad)

Your cheeks turned absolutely red when Natasha leaned away from you with a smirk. Upon entering this truth or dare game, you’ve stepped into it with confidence.. until she had to get Loki involved.

Another one of Tony’s famous parties, and as usual- to much booze, leads to other kinds of festivities. Usually involving teenager games just to give Tony a shot with any women that breathed under the roof, hilariously no one has asked him truth or dare yet.

Even Loki- who sat away from the group, pretended not to be paying attention but even he got dragged into this the moment you told Nat dare. Of course.. he didn’t know he was playing yet.

So far Thor has bailed to the next room when he got dared to see how many pop tarts he could eat, Steve gave us a to-long monologue of the first time he “did it”, and Bruce had to go order everyone pizza. Of course Natasha’s dare had to be sexual.. probably because she was the only one on earth that knew you had a major crush with the god with his nose in a book.

To many nights you’ve fantasized about him, countless times you’ve lost hours of sleep and felt your eyes drifting to his form whenever he entered the same room. You both had a respectful understanding of friendship where it consisted of small talk, most of the time him throwing around teasing comments that always made you red faced and loss of words. You’ve felt he’s watched you to, even making an effort to talk to you yet ignore everyone else around him. you even subtly tried bending down to pick up stupid things to show the shape of your ass, shy but confidence driven but no one has ever made a verbal move. Or a physical one to your disappointment.. until now.

‘’I hate you and may love you for this..’’ you hiss at Nat as you got rid of your blush and took a deep breath to call in all the confidence your body could muster. You knew you should have second thought about wearing this short of a dress but you’d just have to work with it as you stood up from the couch.

Smoothing out the mid-thigh dress, having gone with a silky black, you smoothed it down and Tony got small hints as he smirked and put on some not-so-kid-friendly grinding music. Giving him a look, you ignored the awkward awareness that everyone was looking at you while you made your way to your target that raised his eyes with a questionable look and the book lowering ever so slightly.

Once your eyes met his as you made your way towards him, walking slowly with your hips swaying with each step and a sultry look in your eyes, you said a metal prayer of thanks that the booze was kicking in where your buzz tucked away your shy feeling.

‘’what are you-‘’ Loki questioned as you carefully removed the book from his hands while he leaned back as you moved forward, straddling your hips as his eyes searched your face and body as he tried to figure out the scene.

‘’and hear I thought you liked a bit of mischief?’’ you smirked as you ran your hands up his arms so they could rest on his shoulders, his hands hovering as he raised a brow at you with parted lips.

‘’your playing a dangerous game darling, I’m trying to decide what your motive is..’’ he replied in a quiet voice only you could hear until his tone of voice changed when you began to grind on his bulge, hiding your impressed expression to find out just how big he was. Your fantasies apparently have been correct..

‘’an end goal could be a motive..’’ you whisper in his ear as you sway and rotate your hips to the beat of the music, feeling his hands slowly rest against your thighs where your dress apparently decided to rise up from. At least your backside was covered so the others wouldn’t get a free show other than..

‘’and what exactly is this end goal?’’ he smirked, his finger tips on your thighs pressing into your skin ever so slightly while his thumbs stroked your skin, making it a bit hard to concentrate as you kept at it.

Even your hands slowly glided up his shoulders to rest on either side of his neck, your own finger tips playing with his hair while your noses threatened to touch as you leaned forward. Your eyes peaked at his lips teasingly before going back to his beautiful blue eyes, a danger in them in which you knew you started.

‘’to see if it is even possible to bring a god to his knees.’’ You whisper, feeling his bulge harden as you felt yourself get aroused by the second same as he. Your answer almost made him chuckle as lust seemed to make his eyes dilate and his hands moved to your hips where he held you firm to subtly grind his hips up to your own, so subtly where the others behind you couldn’t even see it.

"Making plans to spend so much one-on-one time with me like this will make me think that you are perhaps falling for me. It's not wise to get my hopes up like that, Liah. I prefer to be the teaser, not the one being teased."

The way your name flowed off his lips every time was enough to make you gush from between your legs, and you knew he knew it as he rose his hips up and moved your hips forward and back, your instincts making you try to hump him but the setting of the whole thing forced yourself to refrain, not wanting a whole scene from the Avengers behind you still and you were thankful the music was to loud to here anything that might be said from them.

Screw them honestly, you were living your fantasy right here in the living room and you might not even get another chance like this again.. if this was all real. Maybe he was merely going along with it because he thought it was just a dare and you had no real feelings for him.. your lips parted, wanting to ask, put your thoughts into words somehow, and his features became serious ever so slightly as he looked at you but before you could utter another word-

‘’I hope you guys compensate me for gas at least for this stupid dare.’’ Bruce mumbled as he walked in with five orders of pizza before he was cut short, as was the music when he caught sight of you both.

You looked over your shoulder with a guilt expression and cheeks red, moving to get up but realized Loki’s firm grip on your hips prevented you from getting up off of him. your eyes moved back to his in which his expression remained the same: hungry and lustful and not giving two shits about the others in the room.

‘’I think you win Liah’’ Natasha laughed and raised her glass to you slightly before finishing her drink. ‘’lets eat.’’

While the others got up and followed her over to the tables, each giving you smiled and small laughs before twitching their attentions, your own moved back to Loki as you suddenly felt yourself being picked up so he stood before set down, his hand grabbing yours the next second after.

‘’where are we-‘’

‘’you still wish to complete your motive?’’ Loki smirked and began leading you to the elevator with you, red cheeks and eager to follow, gave Nat a smile behind you where she winked.

Once in the elevator, you didn’t know if you should laugh or question as Loki ran his hand over the buttons before you felt the elevator halt after the doors close. ‘’they don’t plan on needing this any time soon and you’ve taken my patience away already darling..’’ Loki breathed before his lips were on yours in a second.

Your eyes widen at the sudden action but of course you didn’t hesitate to kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck where he backed the two of you up so your back leaned against the wall with his hands grabbing your ass. You moaned against his mouth, eagerly letting him in after he ran his tongue against your bottom lip before it explored your mouth.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging on it as he moved his knee between your legs, grinding it against your cunt where he growled against your lips. ‘’if you wanted to be on my lap darling, don’t wait for a dare next time..’’ he teased and you bit your lip.

‘’so.. you weren’t just going along with it?’’ you asked as he moved his lips to your neck and he paused to look at you strangely before he began sucking at your skin.

‘’gods no darling.. do you know how long I’ve longed to have you? You’ve merely just beaten me to it..’’ he murmured and your eyes widened as you gripped his shoulders, a small smile playing at your lips.

‘’then perhaps Tony did a good thing at suggesting this game.’’

Loki pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, a deadly serious expressing in his eyes that made you run a shiver down your spine. ‘’if you would have done that dance to Stark instead, he would have been a dead man and I probably would have taken you right then and there in front of everyone.’’ He growled as his hands moved to your hips. ‘’and I am a man of my intent.’’ He smirked before he slowly sank to his knees, holding eye contact as your own flirted with his.

His hands slowly ran up your thighs, his fingers dragging the bottom of your dress up to your waist to reveal that you had no panties on, making his eyes flick up to yours. ‘’oh.. you naughty girl..’’ he smirked, hunger consuming him as he raised one of your legs to drape over his shoulder, hands gripping your ass as he brought your cunt to his mouth.

A gasp left your lips as your head was thrown back to feel his tongue run against your pussy, hands gripping at his shoulders desperately. His lips sucked at your clit, running his tongue up and down against it every few seconds before he went to sucking again. The very actions made your legs begin to shake, arousal consuming you as your fingers dug into him.

One of his hands slide down before he slowly slide a long digit before your cunt, pumping and curling it at a teasingly slow rhythm that would do nothing but drive you mad. His tongue seemed to even match his finger pace while he alternated flicking his tongue against your clit before switching to slow strokes against it before he sucked at it against and repeated.

Gods he was amazing with his mouth, and all the dreams you’ve had didn’t do it justice as you felt yourself coming close to your climax. Your lips parted with your eye lids fluttering, even feeling your eye sight dance as the feeling in your pelvis grew. ‘’gods I’m.. I’m..

‘’mm cum for me darling.. fulfill my own fantasy as I push you off that delicious edge to pure pleasure.. cum for me Liah..’’ he murmured against you, the vibrations of his voice and his moans as his tongue caressing you did just that.

You fell off that beautiful edge and moaned his name, practically screaming even as your head fell back and your muscles tensed, shaking as he kept pumping his finger into you with his tongue massaged. ‘’fuck..’’ you breath as he slowed his movements until you rid your pleasure all the way before he carefully undraped your leg so you could get your proper balance again.

‘’is that your next motive darling?’’ he smirked as he slowly rose to his feet while he sucked his finger clean, making your cheeks redden as you leaned against the wall to catch your breath, his hands caging you in while your hands rested against his chest. With a shared smirk, your eyes rose to look at his hungry ones and the doors to the elevator opened to his floor.

‘’I have a couple more actually..’’

[lewsnumerounofan]

party foul (jeremiah fisher x reader)

summary: so what if you're in love with your best friend, jeremiah fisher? one drunk kiss won't change anything. right?

notes: not biblically accurate conrad, teen drinking, kissing, 3k words, reader previously dated co**ad, angst/miscomm., not proof read at all

+ part 2

+ i never keep the same tense i'm so sooryim gooo fuckjuhnbsorry oh my god and dw abt the header image!!!!!! it's okay!!!!!

kissing jere was easy.

it was the first thing you noticed. how easy it was to let his lips slant over yours, to tilt your head back at the greedy request of his hands, to forget about the party and conrad and the house.

it was just him and the feel of his mouth on yours.

you hadn't expected this, to say the least. in fact, you'd been bracing for an awkward and mostly miserable night. ever since conrad and you had split back in june, things had been awful. the breakup had been bad itself--getting ditched at prom without explanation was one thing--but watching conrad get back with nicole a week later was even worse.

so you were pleasantly surprised with yourself when you decided to go to the fisher's goodbye party, despite whatever tension there might be between you and conrad.

if you were being honest with yourself though, you mostly had jeremiah to thank. you two had been best friends since childhood, but ever since his brother had broken your heart, jere had been there for you. all the time, really. he'd drive down on weekends to check up on you. and when susannah had gotten worse, you'd driven up to make sure he was eating and sleeping too.

so of course he'd been able to convince you to come stay, waving off your concerns about conrad. i want you there, he'd said. i really want you there. and so you'd come. you arrived late, tired from the hours of highway driving. already the house was packed with hap hazardously parked cars and drunk teenagers. the music was loud even on the warm streets outside, and you couldn't help but feel excited as you pulled your bag out of your car and started towards the party.

taylor was the one who opened the door for you. she launched herself into a hug, giggling and shrieking as you two swung around.

"oh my god. you have no idea how happy i am to see you," she yelled, dragging you into the crowded house.

together you fumbled upstairs, eventually breaking into one of the larger rooms. various assortments of air mattresses and water beds covered the floor. jere had called you as soon as they'd gotten back from the boardwalk about julia's suprise moving. it wasn't often you heard him so... defeated.

"you can drop your stuff wherever," said taylor, "but the one in the corner is jeremy's."

she didn't even bother to hide her grin as you slapped her arm. nothing, not even your best kept secret, made it past taylor.

"shut up. you can't say anything to him or i swear i'll kill you," you promised, only half joking.

"oh please. he hasn't stopped talking about you the whole trip. it's disgusting."

you tried not to smile at that--jere talked about you? i mean, he'd called you just about every day for the last few months. more, on days when things were hard. but still, you felt almost nervous at the thought of seeing him now. of what it might be like between you.

your thoughts were cut off by a shout of your name. running into the room was belly. well, not running--rolling.

"oh my god bell what are you wearing?" you asked. it was too late though, because she was wrapping you up in a wobbly, crushing hug.

"roller skates? duh? they're an old pair of susannah's," she said.

you'd missed belly. she looked fucking adorable in her little vintage number, and you hugged her again just because. over her shoulder you could see steven grinning, and conrad too. you waved to the later while steven strode over, ruffling your hair before taking your bag from you.

"long time no see, city-girl," he said.

"yeah yeah yeah. just be nice to my bag, okay? it's got some very delicate presents," you said. steven raised his eyebrows but did as you said, placing your bag onto the bed taylor had indicated earlier. jere's bed. taylor and steven met eyes and winked--uh oh. the last thing you needed was them trying to set you up with your best friend. your best friend who you're in love with, something inside you said. you tried your best to strangle it.

"hey."

this time it was conrad, who was sporting a pair of atrocious sunflower sunglasses on the top of his head.

"hey. i like the glasses," you said, doing your best to smile. it was weird to talk like this to him. you were so angry and embarrassed and sad because of him for so long, and now there was just... nothing. and it felt okay.

"uh, yeah. nicole--nicole got them for me."

he looked sheepish, blushing in a way that used to have you fawning. now you just did your best to nod, saying, "well, she's certainly got a good eye for fashion."

you were saved from the conversation by steven's cough. he stood by the doorway, impatiently waving you towards the party.

"cmon guys, can we hurry this up?"

"yeah, gimmie one sec," you promised. returning to your bag you pulled out the liquor you'd secured on your way there, the bottles heavy in your hands.

"see," you said, turning back to your friends, "presents."

-

downstairs was even louder than you thought it would be. belly had gone all out for the party--strobe lights blared in every room, a kegger was set up outside, and a dj (was that cam cameron??) was spinning in the living room. you had to admit it: you were having a good time. a really good time. except for, that is, one thing. or person, really. jere was nowhere to be found. he'd even missed out on the group shots you, steven, taylor, belly and conrad had downed first beside the pool and then by the kitchen. jeremiah never missed group shots.

a little more than drunk now, you pushed off from your spot on the counter to find your bestfriend.

"city-girl, where you going?" asked steven.

"i'm gonna go find jere. i haven't seen him since i got in."

"i'll come with you," a voice spoke up.

it was conrad, who looked between you and the floor nervously. you didn't miss the questioning looks that pass between taylor and belly. you shrug at them--a little nervous, but not enough to turn him down in front of all your friends.

"uh, yeah sure."

so you and conrad made your way back through the party, scanning couches and corners for jeremiah. by the time you hit the stairs you were both sweaty and annoyed. you had come all this way to see him, and all of a sudden he'd disappeared.

"he's not picking up any of my calls," said conrad, pulling his phone away from his ear.

"me neither," you admitted, letting yourself swing around the banister to sit at the bottom of the staircase. cautiously, conrad gestured to empty landing beside you.

"mind if i join?"

you nod, scooching over to make room. conrad looked bigger than last time you'd seen him. he looked stronger too. for a while after susannah died he'd looked like a corpse--pale and skinny and only half there. even you could admit you were glad to see him doing so much better.

"hey, look i didn't really tag along to search for jere," conrad said, glancing back at you. shocker.

"i uh," he cleared his throat, "i mostly just wanted to apologize. for how things ended. i know i messed up really bad and i wanted to say i'm sorry."

in the hazy blue and purple's of the dance floor below, conrad's steel-blue eyes were genuine. for the first time that night they held yours steadily.

"i was hurting, and let myself fall on you for comfort even when i knew you weren't who i wanted. who i needed. and it wasn't fair to you. i know that now, and i'm sorry it took me so long. i'm really, really sorry."

huh. you hadn't really expected that one either. but it was nice to hear him say those words. you liked conrad. he was a good guy who'd had a rough hand delt to him. and yeah, he hadn't done right by you. but like susannah had always repeated:

"no harm no foul," you said, and let yourself smile at him. he looked relieved as he smiled back, no doubt recognizing the reference to his mother.

"you're happy now, i take it? with nicole?" you ask.

"yeah. more than happy, actually. don't know what i did to deserve her."

you're happy for him, in that moment. really happy.

"what about you? you finally stopped messing around and admitted your feelings to jere?" he asked.

"huh?" you drop, mouth open. there's no way.

"what," he chuckled, grinning harder at your shocked expression, "like it's not obvious you two are crazy for each other."

you can feel the blush spreading across your cheeks now, stomach skipping at his words. so they all knew, you realized. does jere?

"he doesn't--you didn't tell him, right?" you said, panic rising.

conrad shakes his head, still looking amused.

"no, but he'd be a fool not to see it. you guys are perfect for each other. really."

"thanks, conrad."

and you mean it--it's been months of awkwardness between you. and now you just feel... good. you feel like you've got your friend back. so you lean over and hug him, letting yourself remember that before your fling you were friends, and returning back to it feels comforting and warm.

"thank you, for hearing me out. i'm glad we can be back to normal now," he said into your shoulder.

"friends again?" you ask.

"definit--"

"what the fuck?"

-

it's jeremiah. he stands at the top of the stairs, eyes wide. he's wearing the ariana grande merch you'd gotten him. he looks the same and yet--

and yet something in your chest fizzes and your stomach starts running circles as you look at him. you missed him. and not because he was your best friend.

"jere--it's not what it looks like," said conrad.

and then you realized he did look different. the jeremiah you knew was always grinning about some secret joke, or making fun of belly or steven. he never looked... betrayed like this. and he certainly never looked at you with disgust. with anger.

"what the fuck are you guys doing?" he asked again, but this time he didn't even look at you.

"nothing, jere. we were just talking," said conrad.

you cringed at his words. they might be true, but they sure didn't sound good.

"yeah, sure," laughed jere. you'd never heard him laugh like that. it made your skin prickle.

"c'mon, you know i'd never do that-" conrad started.

jeremiah was faster though. he was up in conrad's face in a second, pushing him into the wall. you'd never seen him like this. he wasn't an aggressive guy; even when the brothers fought it was never violent.

"don't fucking lie, con. you were just waiting to take her back weren't you? waiting until you knew it'd hurt me the most, huh?"

you felt his words viscerally, like they were being penned onto your skin. hurt him the most? it was the closest to a confession you'd gotten, but it all felt wrong.

by now, partygoers on the main floor had started to notice the commotion. people were pointing, some even starting to pull out their phones. great.

"jere," you called. he paused, bright blue eyes on you. even now, fighting with his brother, jeremiah looked beautiful. maybe you had had a bit too much to drink.

"jere, please let it go. conrad isn't a part of this," you murmured. though you didn't break eye contact, you could see his hands loosen around his brother's shirt in your peripheral. jaw clenched, he heeded your wishes, giving a final shove to conrad before breaking away. he walked quickly down the stairs and into the throngs of people below.

"jere, wait up!" you call, desperately trying to follow the broad shape of his back through the crowd. jeremiah didn't bother trying to accommodate your smaller strides, and you almost lost him a few times in the packed house.

"would you please slow down? jere," you said again. by now you were out of the house, dodging pool floaties and scattered drinks. the blonde made no indication of hearing you as he kept striding towards the beach.

"jeremiah!"

finally he whipped around. he still looked mad--the set of his jaw, the notching of his eyebrows--but under all of it, he just looked sad. you hated seeing him upset, and you hated knowing you might've been the cause of it.

"jere, please. what's going on?" you asked, this time softly. he was close to you now. you could see his heavy breathing, could smell the perfume he always wore.

"how would i know. you're the one who's looking all close with your ex--my brother--conrad," he spits. he swallows hard, like he's checking himself.

"it was always you and conrad. even when we were kids it was that way. i was stupid to think it could've been any different."

he turned away from you, gaze hard. oh, jere. you have no idea, you thought. it was him--how could he not see that? how could he really think it was conrad you cared about?

you couldn't deny it any longer: you loved jere. and you definitely weren't about to let him walk away thinking otherwise.

quickly, without letting yourself dwell on it, you grabbed jeremiah's hand. he turned back, eyes wide. and you kissed him.

kissing jere was easy.

it was the first thing you noticed. how easy it was to let his lips slant over yours, to tilt your head back at the greedy request of his hands, to forget about the party and conrad and the house.

it was just him and the feel of his mouth on yours.

and then everything was static. everywhere he touched you--the long, lean press of his body to your front, the sharp slide of his jawline under your palm, the firm press of his hands at your waist. every sense was filled with him and his warmth and the way he smelled.

you were gasping into the kiss, hyperaware of the small noises he made when you pulled on his curls. of just how tall he was, how much he had to lean down to hold you like this.

you barely broke away enough to say, "jere, nothing happened with conrad. we were talking about you-"

"don't care," he said, voice rough. because he was too busy lifting you onto one of the wooden boardwalk rails, muscled arms flexing in the distant party lights.

you barely had time to settle before he was kissing you again, sloppy this time, like he owned your mouth and wanted you to know it. you felt hot everywhere, as his hands pulled apart your thighs and he crowded his broad body into you.

you'd kissed once before for a game of truth or dare. it had been sweet and short, and you both had been teased about it for years afterwards. this was different.

wholly different, you realized, as jeremiah's lips sought out the hot skin of your neck. there was no place except where he touched you; the noise of the party, the lull of the waves on the beach, the quiet way he murmured against your skin.

"jere," you said, because there was no room in your mind for anything or anyone else. he hummed as his canines bit lightly at your ear. jere.

greedy for more, you took one of the tan, strong hands holding your face and brought it lower, lower until it rested over your frantically beating heart. jere had pulled away to watch your ministrations, cursing softly as his hand fell over your chest.

"you sure?" he asked, and his voice sounded hoarse.

"yeah, course jere. it's you."

something behind his eyes sparked at the trust you promised. it's always been you. kissing you once more, gentler this time, jere let his hand run up and under the vintage bathing suit top you'd stolen from your mom for the party.

skin on skin, jeremiah was soft and warm. he was breathing heavy as you as he felt you up. forehead to yours, gaze keen as he watched you pant and squirm.

"this okay?"

you could only nod, eyes drawn tight at the sensation. he kissed you again, his touch more confident as you clung to his shoulders.

you'd messed around with conrad a few times. it had felt good. fun, even. but he'd never had you reeling like this, never made you feel like everywhere he touched was fire. that feeling was reserved for jere.

and as his thumb circled your nipple and his teeth pulled at your lip, you realized you were burning and there wasn't anything you could do to stop it. best friend or not, jere was the only one who could make you feel like this. ever.

you pulled away from his mouth. he looked concerned, and you could feel him move his hands away from you.

"sorry if i..." he started, blue eyes near scared as he watched you.

"no, jere it's not that. it's, it's just that i-"

"hey, there's my man! where the fuck were you dude?"

it was steven. fucking steven. on his arm was taylor, who grinned manically when she saw your mussed hair and blushing expression. please not now, taylor. please don't mess this up any more.

but drunk as they were, the pair didn't notice your nervous expression. instead, steven laughed and said, "so did you finally tell her you're in love with her or what?"

-

jere's face dropped. whatever softness you'd shared moments earlier was gone. his mouth set flat, hands that had been mapping out your body now closed into fists.

"fuck you, steven."

taylor's eyes were on you now, finally recognizing the tears you tried to blink away. with a hand on his chest she held steven back, some wordless communication passing between them. if you hadn't been feeling your own heart break you would've been trying to tease them about it.

instead, you chased after jeremiah's retreating figure.

"jere, will you please listen!" you called. but he was stubborn--you knew this better than anyone. one more time you tried, shouting his name over the stupidly loud party.

he whipped back around, blue eyes sharp.

"just stay away from me, okay? why don't you go find conrad to wipe your tears," he snapped. for a moment, jere looked shocked at his own words too. but then he was shaking his head, tearing his gaze away from yours as he continued through the crowds towards the house. away from you.

and this time, as people collapsed into the space all around you, their yelling and singing drowning out even your thoughts, you knew there was no use calling for him.

[multidimensionalguidance]

The Astrology Behind: The 27 Club

We already know the dreadful and looming stories behind this phenomenon that occurs the most within the music and entertainment industry. A great number of deaths and tragic events that seemed to follow gifted individuals as a fated promise.

Although we know that a great majority passed away due to drugs and unhealthy lifestyle choices, there's also some that had unexpected accidents. Now, for those who study astrology and understand that every age activates certain houses/themes this will seem like a very clear pattern.

In terms of house profections, during the age of 27 our 4th house lights up like a lightbulb ready to come through with the lessons and experiences that match the natal planets, lord, sign, ruling nakshatra, and transit planets as well.

When we think of scary and dark periods we tend to associate them with the profections years that match the 8th and 12th house ( 19, 23, 31, 35, and so on) under the assumption that the 4th house is just a cozy corner, yet the overwhelming number of individuals who lose their life around the ages that fall into this house is rather shocking.

The 4th house rules our home, heritage, mother, ancestry, childhood, parents, sense of security, inner life, emotions, happiness, nourishment, etc. These are the topics that come to life during those years, and often times, the ones that leave the strongest mark in our lives.

For most individuals reaching the ages of 15 or 27 arrives with harsh realizations and lessons associated to the lack of emotional and physical security that we might have or feel within ourselves or at home. At 15 we freshly enter the teenage experience of feeling like an outsider at home, as if we don't fit or belong with our family anymore, and as if the innocence of childhood feels long gone. This is where we turn to being a "rebel" and start seeking nourishment outside of what we've been taught within the confinements of home.

By the time we circle back into this house at 27, getting closer to the taste of 30 which is ruled by the 7th house (long term relationships, commitment, others, etc), we start to re-live yet again what "home" and "nourishment" truly feels like for us as adults who are more experienced at life than a 15 year old.

We realize that the perceived freedom of our early 20's was an illusion, and that what has shaped us into who we are by that point was everything we experienced within the privacy of our inner or private world. All the traumas created at home or by our parents. All the overwhelming expectations of what a family of our own might feel like, what long term commitment means to us, and how close or far we are from breaking generational wounds.

All of this can feel maddening and make us isolate from the world into our shells, as if turning into the crustaceans that represent the sign of Cancer. Since the turmoil is associated with our deepest parts, being unable to find a peaceful resolution within our stormy oceans can lead us to drowning within our waters. It makes us forget that right after the storm is when the sun comes out to bring joy, happiness, fun, pleasure, and good fortune (5th house profection). It's a turning point for all of us within our journey.

It comes with no surprise for a lot of celebrities whose private lives and inner world are exposed for everyone to see to be driven towards unhealthy coping mechanisms. A path to self destruction. Now, not all cases are alike and in some scenarios its accidents in their homeland or related to water.

At any case, they are difficult situations which threaten our inner safety and sense of security. It shakes our emotional foundations and forces us to build from scratch a real sense of "I'm safe in my body, mind, and the environment that I cohabit with others". It's all about learning how to regulate ourselves and not allowing our traumas to keep us from the good things life has to offer.

I'll use Amy Winehouse as an example:

Her 4th house was ruled by Leo with her Sun and Mercury in Uttara Phalguni sitting there. She had to relive and experience themes related to her fame, father, talent, children, creative, romance, self expression, and how it all tied to the way she handled her 4th house themes.

Uttara Phalguni in particular usually stands out or feels deeply interested in music, dancing and yoga. Aryaman, the deity of Uttara Phalguni nakshatra, is the god of patronage, union and is considered as the chief amongst the ancestors. They are deeply affected and involved in relationships.

One of the symbols that rules this nakshatra is the back legs of the bed or a platform. I'll focus on the latter simply because most of the time its only people who wield some sort of power or gift who get to stand on a platform of any kind. Additionally, they also tend to deal a lot with the karma of the father, and not always on the positive end of it.

She had battled with addictions to alcohol and other substances her entire life, but it only got progressively worse after she met the man who would eventually become her future husband. It was said that shortly after meeting him her personality changed and she started to indulge in other vices, such as cocaine and crack (which he knowingly admitted to introducing to her).

On top of it, her own father who had a heavy influence on her (as it usually is for 99% of Leo's) wasn't supportive towards her health when she needed it the most. It was the behavior of her parents and their tumultuous marriage that shaped the way she perceived home, safety, and nourishment. This is even more noticeable with the ruler of her 4th house falling sitting in its own house.

It was the lack of support from home and damaging patterns that made her repeat the same generational curses which inevitably lead her to drowning in her own inner world. She clearly used substances as a coping mechanism (like most do). A way to escape reality and attempt to find safety, even if it only led to more pain and disregulation.

By the end, her difficulties on dealing with these themes became even more noticeable after she divorced her husband and went on a downward spiral that didn't even allow her to perform.

Her story, specifically around the last moments, shows us how impactful and difficult 4th house profections can truly be. Alike to other artist or famous individuals, by the end of their lives (27) a lot of those themes appear over and over again until they can no longer bare with them or find a peaceful and healthy resolution.

So, if you're currently going through or about to enter this house profection, just remember to take it slow and practice as much emotional regulation as possible. Go near water bodies to relax. Seek help from individuals who can heal your mind, body, and spirit, be it professionally or not. And finally, remember that you are not your childhood traumas or wounds.

Thanks for reading <3

Check out my services and testimonials for personal readings (plus more).

Xox

Mary from multidimensionalguidance

[respectthepetty]

Who is Jo?

It's only the fifth episode of The Trainee but I feel confident about who is the Blue Boy since I learned more about him this episode.

Ryan is a chill Green Guy who helps everyone including Pie in the very beginning of the episode by changing the copy paper and helping her. This hasn't changed.

Pie is still being her red passionate self now that she is assistant director for the music video.

Pah is still the yellow and orange odd one out.

Judy is still a sophisticated Black Brooder, and Mee is an evolving Pink Person.

(who gives her crushes pink donuts, so can Judy get one already?)

But the focus of this episode and post is about Jane!

We got to know more about him, and my original theory about him seems to be correct because I believed Jane was the Blue Boy since he seems cold and distant but everyone overlooks how dependable and loyal he is.

And once Ryan steps into Jane's apartment, it becomes even more clear that nobody really knows (Blue Boy) Jane.

(Sidenote, to be honest, I'd be Purple Person Ja, and not just because of the hair. I have beef with authority figures for no good ass reason. I need no reasons to dislike management, supervisors, admin, or anyone with power, so I ain't mad at her for talking shit about Jane every chance she gets)

Not only are Jane's curtains that shut out the rest of the world in the apartment that he intentionally selected since it's so close to his job blue.

But Ryan learns that Jane doesn't eat spicy food after Jane makes Ryan dinner in his blue pot.

And much like Pie's red bag, Mee's pink purse, and Ryan's green tote, Jane's bag has blue on it.

But what makes me really believe Jane is a Blue Boy is his behavior.

It seems like Jane has a box of shooting schedules (or storyboards) right at his front door that Ryan has to push a bit to get through, which much like the location of his apartment reinforces that his job is his life. (unless those are bills, then those bills look odd, and boy is about to be evicted)

Jane's movies are in alphabetical order (however, he alphabetizes "The" which should not be done because article adjectives a, an, and the should be omitted in alphabetizing, but . . . it's his personal collection, so do you, boo boo)

His album collection seems to be displayed by color connection (black, white, red) since I spotted Kodaline's 2022 album Our Roots Run Deep, Coldplay's 2002 album A Rush of Blood to the Head, and the 1980s Japanese rock band, Southern All Stars' Tiny Bubbles.

And the real kicker is Jane's favorite movie seems to be Mary is Happy, Mary is Happy, which is a Thai film about a creative girl who has to go up against her power-driven headmaster to get the yearbook produced as she encounters all the chaos that comes along with being a teenager.

And even his coworker (boss?) stated that Jane has the director's eye but he had a bad experience as an intern. Jane is talented yet guarded, which is very Blue Boy of him! Also, this book is free in the Archive and amazing!

So even though Tae has a blue phone and his blue headphones with a blue emoji heart to match Mee's pink heart as a he thinks of her with a pink background,

My money is on Jane being the Blue Boy since taking care of a Green Guy comes natural to him.

But the real point of this post is to ask "Who is Jo?" Is he the boss? A helpful office worker? Both? Because he is the only one who interacts with all the staff and actually notices all of them. He knew Pah was Pah when he was pretending to be Tae. He realizes Judy is amazing. He knows where the number for the copier tech is. He takes care of the fish.

Is he the original Ryan?!

[jokeroutsubs]

[ENG TRANSLATION] JOKER OUT: THE PRINCES OF ROCK'N'ROLL WITH THEIR OWN LIBRARY

Original article written by Anja Leskovar for Ljubljana.si. for their December 2021 issue. English translation by @varianestoroff and drumbeat, proofread by @flowerlotus8

Even if you don't know their names and faces (unlike many young people), you must have heard of Joker Out. Kris, Bojan, Jure, Martin and Jan proved with their fresh first album 'Umazane misli', released this autumn, that they're rightfully one of the hottest musicians at the moment. And it's worth listening to them, as, behind the handsome looks, there are interesting guys making good music with very juicy subjects. And they're only in their twenties!

It was difficult to arrange an appointment as you were quite ill. Did recording the album tire you?

Yes, it was an adrenaline rush. But we were driven by excitement, we really lived for the album this autumn, or else everything would've sunk. We wanted to perform really bad!

When they comissioned me this interview, I knew the band name, but I didn't know who you were. But when I played your music, I found out that I knew it well, I even know most of the lyrics by heart! Is it more important to you that people know your music than you?

Yes, that's something a musician can only wish for. It's important that you like music for music's sake, not for the musician. For us, music comes first, then showbiz.

How nice do you find it that your audience includes not only enthusiastic girls, but also boys, older people...? So is music the reason why someone goes to a concert?

It's very important to us that we're seen not only as pretty faces, but also as a good band. A very clear indicator that we're managing to do that is the diverse audience in front of our stage. But also the girls who come to the gig (also) to see us, they know how to recognise good music and they're quality audience. That can go hand in hand! For us, everything starts and ends with good music. That's the most important thing.

And this commitment is recognisable in your music. It's just interestingly fresh. I hear classic rock in some parts, indie pop in others, funk in others. Do I hear it right?

Yes, of course. When we were kids, we all listened to Big Foot Mama, Green Day and Siddharta, then we started to discover different genres. Now we all listen to very different music. But we don't deliberately take inspiration from any music.

And it shows. I find your music quite unique, it's hard to pigeonhole it.

Thank you, it seems the same to us. It's hard to find references to our music in other music. We say we play shagadelic rock. We're just big Austin Powers fans. His catchphrase is: "Shagadelic baby, yeah!" His 'mojo' (A/N charm, allure) is just cool to us. And in fact we feel like we have that 'mojo' too, we want to display it, we want the listeners to feel that we're comfortable in our own skin. Especially when there are concerts, the 'mojo' just bursts out of us. (everyone laughs loudly) Every time we have a concert, we feel like we're going to a party. That's also why it's really important to play live. Without this, we probably wouldn't be making music. It gives us energy.

With four guitars and drums, you are proving that rock'n'roll isn't dead. How alive is it on the Ljubljana scene?

Of course it isn't dead, it's still very alive. When we were teenagers going to clubs, they were playing anything but rock. But when people get used to it, music that sounds very different attracts them. Ljubljana has a very active rock scene, and Slovenia has excellent conditions for the growth of rock'n'roll. There are a lot of places to play, a lot of competitions for young musicians and alternative clubs with an audience to grow on.

Do you prefer intimate or big concerts?

We do great on big stages, although we've done a great gig in front of three people. But in Slovenia you reach the plateau too quickly. If you reach Stožice right away, then where do you go?

Abroad.

Yes, well, that's our goal, of course. But at the moment we're looking forward to the concert in Križanke. There's no distractions, you know you're going there for a good concert. Križanke has a special aesthetic and character that means a lot to us. And you can't just decide to do a concert in Križanke. They must accept you there. So that's a very great honor for us.

As the venue is important for a good concert, the rehearsal space is probably important too. For example, is rehearsing in a bunker more conducive to harder music than rehearsing in a sexy, neat space?

Yes, absolutely. Above all, it must be a relaxing space, one that you can spend a lot of time in and that the vibe there is good. We've rehearsed in a lot of places so far, and every time you walk in, you can see if it's working for you or not. But until you play, you don't know if it's close to you in terms of creativity or not.

Have you found your new rehearsal space yet?

We have, but we're not saying where. (they smile mysteriously) We found a place we like so much, that we decided to turn it into a second home. It'll have its own 'mojo' that matches ours. It'll be truly magical! There'll be lots of wood, and we'll also have a library.

Yes, that, books! 30 years ago, we teenagers followed boybands of all genres, and the boys were usually extremely cute, even to the extent of wrapping our school notebooks in their posters. But there's more behind your cuteness. You're into cool stuff, you read interesting literature, you study...

Jure: I don't read enough, I'm not very good with words, I don't even listen to our lyrics. I listen to the mix, to the musical melodies. I mean, I'm a cameraman, but for me, music comes first. Period.

Martin: I study Maths and Computer Science and also make a living from that knowledge. Lately I've been reading a lot, and I'm very interested in Stoic philosophy.

Kris: Well, I'm interested in German philosophers, like Hannah Arendt and Nietzsche. I'm finishing my degree in Chemical Engineering.

Bojan: I mainly study TikTok these days (laughs). It's quite banal and doesn't fit with our philosophy in general. But Jan started making really sick content that's suitable for this format and we'll start publishing it soon. Anyway, I'm finishing my degree in Sociology and I've been drawn to Haruki Murakami and Arto Paasilinna literary lately.

Jan: I'm an expert at half-reading books, the last one I read was Slaughterhouse-Five (by Kurt Vonnegut, A/N). I don't even know why I half-read them, probably because so many things steal my attention that I must try very hard to finish something. I have a problem with that, also for films.

What are you not half doing?

Jan: Music. I'm literally addicted to different types of music. I always listen to albums all the way through. I definitely listen to at least one every day. And I'm very happy learning to play new instruments. I love all things that make sound.

Let's say kitchen pots and lids?

Jan: (laughs) Also, indeed. I like cooking, I'm now exploring Thai and Chinese food.

Kris: And he makes superb onion and potato hash!

And do you like to explore the world?

Yes, everyone. We're in dire need. Our schedule is so unpredictable and events are so scattered throughout the year that most of us have not been anywhere for years, not even at sea. It's great when there are concerts, but we're missing going somewhere. Yes, to make an album also means a lot to sacrifice.

Where do you like to hang out in Ljubljana?

In many places. (they answer in harmony)

Kris: Metelkova is great. I think it's too underrated and has a wrongful negative reputation. That's also why it is the way it is.

Bojan: There's a really chill vibe in Gala Hala. I really like going unplanned to a gallery or museum. You don't go purposefully, you walk around, you observe. It's always cool. I meet people with a completely different background and you start thinking in a different way. Inspiring.

You are five in a bunch with very different characters. How do you manage to exist side by side?

Above all, there shouldn't be perfect democracy within the band. There's no need for one person to be the leader of everything. But someone must have the final say in a certain field; one in the creative one, one in the technical one, one in the financial one. And they have the last word and they're also accountable. Otherwise, we're good friends, we go everywhere together rather than forcibly apart.

How do you differ from the bands that were relevant 30 years ago?

They were much more put into boxes. They had to be already well-established to dare afford a musical journey into the unknown. We, on this album, already combined styles in a completely pressure-less way. Genres don't really exist anymore, everything is merged, mixed, everything is accepted. We live in a big melting pot. For us, energy is more important than a fixed image!

Joker Out are (from left to right) Kris Guštin - guitar, Martin Jurkovič - bass, Bojan Cvjetičanin - voice, Jan Peteh - guitar, Jure Maček - drums

December 2021

[morbidology]

Brianna Ghey was a bright, compassionate teenager known for her outgoing personality and sense of humour. Born on November 14, 2006, she grew up in Birchwood, Warrington, where she attended Birchwood Community High School. Brianna was an active user of social media, particularly on TikTok, where she had a significant following. Her videos often showed her lip-syncing to music and sharing moments from her life.

Brianna had been living openly as a transgender girl for several years, supported by her family and friends. However, like many transgender individuals, she faced challenges, including bullying and discrimination, which she had spoken about on her social media platforms. Despite these challenges, Brianna remained resilient, advocating for herself and others in the transgender community.

On the afternoon of February 11, 2023, Brianna was walking through Culcheth Linear Park in Warrington when she was attacked by two teenagers, a 15-year-old boy and girl. The attack was brutal and unprovoked, resulting in Brianna's death at the scene from multiple stab wounds. The teenagers fled the scene, leaving Brianna to be discovered by passersby who quickly called emergency services. Despite their efforts, Brianna could not be saved.

The attack sent shockwaves through the local community and the rest of the United Kingdom. The police quickly launched an investigation, leading to the arrest of the two teenagers the following day. Initially, the motive behind the attack was unclear, with the police stating that there was no evidence to suggest that Brianna's gender identity had been a factor.

The two teenagers, whose identities were initially protected due to their age, were charged with Brianna's murder and brought to trial later in 2023. They were later identified as Scarlett Jenkinson and Eddie Ratcliffe. The court heard grim details about the attack, including how the teenagers had planned the murder in advance, luring Brianna to the park under false pretences. The prosecution argued that the attack was premeditated and driven by a disturbing fascination with violence.

In November 2022, Jenkinson met Brianna and quickly became obsessed with her, even telling Ratcliffe that she was "obsessed." Jenkinson described Brianna as "really different" and shared her feelings with Ratcliffe in December, mentioning, "I’m obsessed over someone I know but don’t have feelings for them… She’s called Brianna… I don’t know how to explain. Also, she has a d*** lol." Ratcliffe occasionally used transphobic language when talking about Brianna, referring to her as "it." Despite this, Jenkinson said Brianna "sounded just like a girl and looked really pretty."

However, by January 2023, Jenkinson’s obsession turned dark. She started discussing with Ratcliffe a plan to kill Brianna, thinking that Brianna’s struggles with depression would make it look less suspicious. At the same time, Jenkinson was watching disturbing online content and talking to Ratcliffe about harming people. The prosecution revealed that Jenkinson had made a list of five people, with Brianna being chosen as the target. Ratcliffe cruelly commented, "I want to see if it will scream like a man or a girl."

As they finalized their plan to murder Brianna, Jenkinson and Ratcliffe began carefully preparing. In the weeks before the killing, Jenkinson attempted to end Brianna’s life by giving her an overdose of pills and ibuprofen gel, but these attempts only made Brianna sick.

Throughout the trial, the defence explored the mental health struggles of the accused, particularly the girl, who had been dealing with severe issues. However, the jury ultimately found both teenagers guilty of murder. On July 13, 2023, they were sentenced to life imprisonment, with minimum terms of 22 years for the Ratcliffe and 21 years for Jenkinson. The judge described the crime as "utterly senseless" and noted the devastating impact it had on Brianna's family, friends, and the wider community.

Brianna Ghey's murder reignited debates in the UK about the safety and rights of transgender individuals, particularly transgender youth. While the police maintained that Brianna's murder was not a hate crime, many advocacy groups pointed out the pervasive discrimination and violence faced by transgender people, arguing that society must do more to protect vulnerable individuals like Brianna.

In the wake of her death, vigils were held across the UK in Brianna's memory, with thousands of people coming together to mourn her loss and call for justice. These gatherings also served as a platform to raise awareness about the challenges faced by the transgender community, including mental health issues, bullying, and violence.

Brianna's family, devastated by the loss of their daughter, remembered her as a loving and caring individual who brought joy to those around her. They expressed hope that her death would not be in vain and that it would lead to greater understanding and acceptance of transgender people in society.

[madelynraemunson]

HEY MADDY, WHAT’S ON TV? 📺

𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭 (…𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬) part 1/2

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

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

WORD COUNT: 11.4k words

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

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

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

🥠

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

“What did you do to MINE?!”

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

      ◄ ◄ ◄  R E W I N D  🎞️

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

“They’re kinda like boner pills.”

“Oh...! WOW...?”

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

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

Again, not the weirdest thing Dustin has said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not the counselor, but the Certified Loiterer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dustin gasps. “EDDIE!”

Speaking of The Devil.

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

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

“Munson.”

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

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

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

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

But the stars had other plans, he supposes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve's eyes widen.

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

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

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

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

Finally, something he and Steve can agree on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dustin…” Steve shakes his head. 

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

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

“NO!” Steve insists. "NO!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Eddie demands.

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

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

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

Ba-dum-tss! goes the drummer.

"Gareth," Eddie scowls.

Gareth Emerson digresses with a sheepish shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

Bend the rules?!

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

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

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

"You know exactly what I mean."

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

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

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

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

“So all of this is MY fault?”

“I never said it was.”

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

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

“GARETH!” “EMERSON!” 

The drummer refrains once more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fortune cookie, anyone?”

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

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

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

Dustin chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s amaziiing.” Steve lies.

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

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

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

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

“Sorry?”

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

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

Eddie watches Steve with both curiosity and disdain. 

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

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

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

Just then, a very intoxicated Robin chimes in.

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

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

The distaste for Eddie only amplifies with that statement. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s like a sock to the face. 

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

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

“Very rich coming from you, Suburbia.”

“Uh oh,” Dustin mutters.

Now Steve is pissed. 

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

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

“Guys…” Dustin starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“At least I have parents.”

Simultaneous gasps fill the room. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No response. Steve tries again.

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

Steve gently taps the door with two fingers now. 

“Eddie?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…in bed,” he adds with a chuckle.

Just then the ground begins to rumble. 

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

“EVERYONE GET DOWN!”

“JESUS CHRIST!” Eddie yells.

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

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

“Shit — Harrington, are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone turns to them.

“Feel what?” Dustin inquires.

“There was an earthquake.”

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

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

“Are you sure?” “An earthquake?”

“There wasn’t an earthquake.”

“What earthquake?”

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

“An earthquake,” Jonathan repeats for him.

“An Earth Cake?!”

“QUAKE!” Jonathan hollers. “EARTHQUAKE!”

“EARTHQUAKE?!” the startled stoner yelps.

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

12:00 MIDNIGHT

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

8:00 AM

Obnoxious, fluffy duvet covers stir Eddie awake.

Maybe Steve did come with some goodies after all.

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

BONK.

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

He’s in a bedroom. 

“What the—” Munson mutters.

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

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

He’s in Steve’s room.

But where is Steve?

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

It’s not there. 

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

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

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

“That’s not mine either.”

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

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

“That’s DEFINITELY not mine.”

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

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

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

The couch.

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

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

Eddie clears his throat.

"H-hello? Steve?”

Nothing.

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

Nothing.

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

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

"This is alarming, Steve! WAKE UP!”

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

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

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

"Aha! So you are Steve!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s a pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Eddie wastes no time.

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

“You mean my nipple?”

He does it again.

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

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

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

“Oh god, I’m…” Steve stammers. “Wow…”

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

“HURTFUL—”

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

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

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

“And now we’re here.”

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

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

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

Suddenly their two brain cells click.

"Henderson," they utter in unison.

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Steve shakes his head.

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

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

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

[cue panicked guitar rift here 🎸⚡️]

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

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

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

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

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

“Freaky,” Jonathan finishes for him.

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

“Or worse,” Eddie gulps. “The Lab.”

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

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

Everyone is running out of ideas. That is until…

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

The idea is met with retaliation.

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

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

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

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

“Are they really about to…” Argyle begins.

“Sh.. sh..” Jonathan stops him.

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

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

“OH GOD!” Steve shrieks.

“AHHHHHH!” 

“AHHHHHH!”

SMACK! PLOP!

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

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

———

“Language, Dusty!”

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, Steve.”

“I’M EDDIE!”

“Jiminy Cricket, this is so confusing.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why not?” Steve questions.

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

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

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

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

Suzie shoots Dustin a dirty look.

“How the heck…” he corrects himself.

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

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

Suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head.

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

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

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The three leave Suzie’s cabin feeling absolutely defeated. 

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

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

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

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

———

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

It started with switching cars.

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

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

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

“Got it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure you are. You’re me.”

“Munson, no!”

“Harrington, yes.”

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

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

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

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

Perhaps there is a silver lining in all of this. 

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

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

“AyAy, Captain.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

God, this is so weird.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do?”

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

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

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

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

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

"Huh?"

"You gonna let me join or what?"

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

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

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

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

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

Meanwhile Steve sets off to find Eddie a job.

A real job.

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

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

But Hawkins is anything but receptive to it.

"No."

"Nope."

"Sorry."

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

"NO!"

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

Though, it's unconventional.

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

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

Just then, he realizes. 

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

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

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

And that’s when Steve sees the scissors.

———

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

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

“What did you do to MINE?!”

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

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

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

“Oh…my…god…” she says.

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

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

“NO!” both Steve and Eddie refuse.

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

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

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

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

"No other place would hire you!"

"Can’t say I didn’t warn ya."

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

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

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

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

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

“Say cheese, freaks!”

———

Eddie was having a hard time being Steve.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?!” Steve demands.

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

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

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

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

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

———

“Take me away, away, away, AWAY”

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

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

“Same old stuff, it never ends.”

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

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

Dustin cackles at the sight.

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

“Me too.”

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

“What did I just walk into?”

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

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

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

Eddie smirks at the realization.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And why exactly would I do that?”

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

“Again, why would I do that?”

“Because you love me,” Eddie sneers.

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

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

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

Steve refuses to meet Eddie’s eyes.

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

“Seems transactional.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dustin–”

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

“Hey. Buddy…” Steve starts again.

“Henderson!” Eddie calls at the same time.

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

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

Ba-dum-tss! the drum sounds.

“GARETH!” Steve and Eddie growl.

"Scott Clarke."

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

"Huh?"

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

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

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

“Go on…”

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

“Okay…”

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

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

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

There’s a pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Steve…” Eddie begins. 

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

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

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

Their eyes meet again.

“I can’t take that away from you.”

Suddenly the rocker feels his knees buckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If not you… then who?” Clarke repeats. “If there's one thing I learned during my time in research… and mindful meditation…  it's that sometimes the answer is right in front of you. Or within."

Steve and Eddie look at each other.

"The world is full of obvious things," Mr. Clarke says. "...which nobody, by any chance, ever observes. Sherlock Holmes."

Accepting the absolute bust, Steve and Eddie storm out of the door and back down the stairs of their prepubescent alma mater. 

“Son of a bitch,” Eddie curses under his breath. “The damn hippies got to him before we did.”

As the two walk down the stairs, Steve sneaks a few quick glances Eddie’s way. Seeing him upset didn’t necessarily make him feel so hot. The answer is clear: they need to venture beyond a Mormon child and a middle school science teacher. They need to consult the big dogs. 

“We can go to the Indianapolis Science Center,” Steve suggests. “And maybe ask some people there. There’s also the university. If we flag down a professor from the physics or chemistry department, maybe they can offer us some insight. Or…”

“Just give it a rest, Steve,” Eddie surrenders.

“What?” Steve questions. “No! We’ve got to figure this out before Show and Tell. It’s in a couple days.”

“What’s a couple days?” Eddie demands. “We’ve been like this for nearly a week. What makes you think it won’t last another week? Or indefinitely.”

Eddie kicks at an empty carton of orange juice at his feet while Steve watches with an overwhelming sense of guilt. He didn’t want Eddie to give up. Not yet, at least.

“Hey I’m not going to let you blow this shot, Munson,” Steve demands firmly. “I know how much this means to you. This could finally be your ticket out of Hawkins. You guys were meant for the Big City.”

“No,” Eddie disagrees, absentmindedly. 

Eddie’s gaze veers off to the side, a sadness in his eyes so profound that Steve almost starts tearing up as well. 

“All… the answers… point…to no,” Eddie continues. “Can you imagine what the world would be like if everyone followed their dreams? We’d have no one doing the conventional jobs. It's not in my cards, I fear. Maybe I was always meant to stay in Hawkins, being everyone’s weed man and no one’s first choice.”

“Eddie…”

“But thanks for trying though, Harrington. Doesn’t go unnoticed.”

———

To be continued…

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[lavenderfilledcoffin]

dream

noun

a series of thoughts, images, and sensations occurring in a person’s mind during sleep.

*♪¸¸.•*¨･:*ೄ·*♪¸¸.•*¨･:*

A life where you and Sebastian Solace met under normal circumstances.

The two of you went to the same college, and were taking the same music class. He minored in it while you were majoring in it.

You admired how well he played guitar from afar.

Although you never got to speak to him due to his stunning looks and your shyness, you did run into him at a boba shop.

The two of you properly introduced yourselves after placing your orders.

He admitted that he had been eyeing you, commenting on your skill with [instrument name], essentially praising you.

That was enough to almost make you drop dead, he was so genuine and sweet. Could someone of such perfection truly exist?

Sebastian Solace, what a beautiful name.

After grabbing your drinks and claiming a small table, you sat across from each other.

The two of you sat there drinking boba while engaging in small topics. It reminded you of those awkward icebreakers that your professor would make everyone do on the first day, but with Sebastian, it felt natural.

You talked about your minor while he talked about his major. He initially majored in business but disliked it then swapped to engineering. He adored the courses, but calculus was giving him a little bit of trouble.

Yet, you encouraged him to try his best. Nothing came for free, after all. It took effort.

He thanked you, checking his phone to check the time.

Speak of the devil, it was almost time for his calculus class.

The two of you exchanged numbers, he said he would be in touch soon to arrange some sort of hangout.

You waved him off with a smile, finishing the remaining sugary drink before tossing it into a nearby bin.

After that small encounter, the two of you frequently hung out. The two of you were rarely seen apart, your professors noticing but not caring as long as it didn't disrupt your studies.

You found out more about him as the weeks passed, and your attraction to him increased by tenfold.

You noticed many things. Like his pretty eyes. They're a greenish-blue. When light would hit them, you'd get so mesmerized to where you had to stop what you were doing.

It made Sebastian laugh, asking what the hell you were doing.

You'd brush it off, but always admit after some pressure from him that his eyes are pretty.

He never got tired of hearing you say those words.

Two months into dating Sebastian, he asked if you wanted to come over to his childhood home and meet his mother. You happily accepted, wondering who birthed such a pretty boy.

His looks were a bonus to his heart of gold, and his mother was very kind, too.

She greeted you with a kiss on the right cheek, pulling you into a hug as she told you about how much Sebastian talked about you over the phone.

His siblings were very chaotic, asking all sorts of questions about you in which Sebastian tried to stop them.

His mother laughed at her children bickering, telling them to knock it off in Spanish.

She didn't want you to be driven away, but you didn't mind at all.

She cooked amazing Chilean delicacies that you could not stop gushing over. She adored you and treated you like one of her own.

After dinner, Sebastian brought you to his old room. Everything was left untouched when he left for college, and it had many generic things a teenager would own.

There was an electric guitar that sat in the corner next to his bed. Sebastian noticed your wandering eyes and picked it up, hooking it up to an amp.

He played a song from Metallica, 'Whiskey in the Jar'.

His fingers were moving so quickly, you couldn't tell what fret his fingers were on.

As the song concluded, you couldn't help but applaud him, praising his skill.

He set his guitar down gently, turning his full attention to you.

He pulled you in for a kiss, your lives were perfect.

"...Hey, [Name]."

A voice called out to you in your head.

"[Name]." Something was happening, and your vision of Sebastian turned to black.

You groggily opened your eyes, groaning as you rubbed them.

Your eyes adjusted and you saw Sebastian. Only this time, he was his usual fishy self.

You were wrapped in his tail, his hands gently patting your head.

"Good morning." He said with a cute smile, leaning in to kiss your cheek. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept good... Wish it lasted longer." You admit, fully awake now.

"And why's that?"

"I dreamt about you." You didn't specify what it was about, choosing to keep it to yourself. Would it be offensive? Hopefully not. Maybe one day you'll meet him under normal circumstances.

At least you were dating him now, fish boyfriend or not.