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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 months

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Working class Dems who campaign on economics beat Trumpists in elections

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me FRIDAY NIGHT (Mar 22) in TORONTO, then SUNDAY (Mar 24) with LAURA POITRAS in NYC, then Anaheim, and more!

The Democratic Party Pizzaburger Theory of Electioneering is: half the electorate wants a pizza, the other half wants a burger, so we'll give them all a pizzaburger and make them all equally dissatisfied, thus winning the election:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/06/16/that-boy-aint-right/#dinos-rinos-and-dunnos

But no one wants a pizzaburger. The Biden administration's approach of letting the Warren/Sanders wing pick the antitrust enforcers while keeping judicial appointments in the Manchin-Synematic universe is a catastrophe in which progressive Dem regulators (who serve one term) are thwarted by corporatist Dem judges (who serve for life):

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/14/making-good-trouble/#the-peoples-champion

The Democrats – like all parties in two-party systems – are a coalition; in this case, a "progressive" liberal-left coalition with liberals serving as senior partners, steering the party and setting its policies. These corporate dems like to color themselves as "neutral" technocrats with "realistic, apolitical" policies that represent what's best for the country:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/05/not-that-naomi/#if-the-naomi-be-klein-youre-doing-just-fine

This sets up the left wing of the party as the starry-eyed, unrealistic radicals whose policies are unpopular and will lose elections. But for a decade, grassroots-funded primary challenges have made it possible to test this theory, by putting leftist politicians on the ballot in front of voters, especially in tight races with far-right Republicans (that is, exactly the kinds of races that the corporate wing of the party says we can't afford to take chances on).

The 2022 midterms included enough races to start testing these theories – and, unlike traditional midterms, these races enjoyed high voter turnout, thanks to the unpopularity of GOP positions like abortion bans, book bans and anti-trans laws. Jacobin teamed up with the Center for Working-Class Politics, Yougov and the Center for Work and Democracy at ASU and analyzed those races:

https://images.jacobinmag.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/03/11134429/CWCP-Report-2024.pdf

Their conclusion: candidates from working-class backgrounds who campaigned on economic policies like high-quality jobs, higher minimum wages, a jobs guarantee, ending offshoring and outsourcing, building infrastructure and bringing manufacturing back to the US won with a 50% share of the vote in rural and working-class districts. Dems who didn't lost with a 35% share of the vote:

https://prospect.org/politics/2024-03-18-how-actually-existing-democrats-run-for-office/

In other words, in the kinds of districts where Trumpist politicians are beating Democrats, running on "left populist" policies beats Trumpist politicians.

That's the good news: if Dems recruit leftist, working class politicians and put them up for office on policies that address the material reality of voters' lives, they can beat fascist GOP candidates.

Now for the bad news: the Democratic establishment has no interest in getting these candidates onto the ballot. Working-class candidates, by definition, lack the networks of deep-pocketed cronies who can fund their primary campaigns. Only 2.3% of Dem candidates come from blue-collar backgrounds (if you include "pink-collar" professions like nursing and teaching, the number goes up to 5.9%):

https://jacobin.com/2024/03/left-populists-working-class-voters

All of this confirms the findings of Trump's Kryoptonite, an earlier Jacobin/CWCP research project that polled working-class voters on preferences for hypothetical candidates, finding that working-class candidates with economically progressive policies handily beat out Republicans, including MAGA Republicans:

https://images.jacobinmag.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/08125102/TrumpsKryptonite_Final_June2023.pdf

Since the Clinton-Blair years, "progressives" have abandoned economic populism ("It's not a burning ambition for me to make sure that David Beckham earns less money" -T. Blair) and pursued a "third way" that seeks to replace half the world's of supply white, male oligarchs with diverse oligarchs from a variety of backgrounds and genders. We were told that this was done in the name of winning elections with "modern" policies that replaced old-fashioned ideas about decent pay, decent jobs, and worker power.

These policies have delivered a genocide-riven world on the brink of several kinds of existential catastrophe. They're a failure. The pizzaburger party didn't deliver safety, nor prosperity – and it also can't deliver elections.

Name your price for 18 of my DRM-free ebooks and support the Electronic Frontier Foundation with the Humble Cory Doctorow Bundle.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/20/actual-material-conditions/#bread-and-butter

#pluralistic #elections #political science #democrats #democrats in disarray #class #class war #us politics #pizzaburger

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caligvlasaqvarivm · 3 months

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points at u. how do u play eridan so well!!! hes such a tricky bastard to write for 4 some reason

It's because he's got so many problems and playing him is basically Mental Illness Simulator :') Whipped up a small (that's a lie, it's large and extensive) guide under the cut

ERIDAN DOES NOT HAVE FUN

First most important thing about playing Eridan: THIS BOY DOES NOT DO JOKES. He does NOT DO BITS. He does NOT HAVE FUN. If you check out his logs, pretty much every time he talks to somebody, he has a very clear purpose in mind (usually flirting or grandstanding). One of the few times he does strike up a conversation without a clear goal in mind, it's absolutely disastrous:

CA: fef CA: hey CC: ? CA: glub CC: Glub glub! CC: 38) CA: yeah CA: hm CC: W)(at is it!!! CA: wwhat

He's sooooooo so so so bad at conversation. He doesn't tell jokes. He doesn't know how to lighten the mood. He has no chill. He has no sense of humor. When playing him, if you are making jokes, you are doing it wrong!

The reason for this is because, psychologically, you have to imagine that he is constantly teetering on the edge of a murderous freakout. If he is not, at all times, Being Useful (AKA murderous, sea dweller-y), then Something Bad Will Happen. His entire life is about duty, pressure, responsibility, and, accordingly, at ALL TIMES, he feels an extreme, anxious weight on his shoulders, which makes him incapable of indulging in "frivolous" behavior, like making smalltalk or doing things for fun. In fact, sarcasm and facetiousness are literally considered childish by Alternians, and Equius associates it with lower blood colors:

CT: D --> Humorous insincerity is for pedantic wigglers AG: Pshhhhhhhh, I know! I know you never make jokes. I was the one 8eing sarcastic, you stooge! AG: I was 8eing sarcastic a8out you 8eing sarcastic. Duh. CT: D --> That's because you're a little worse than me

That's why it's also kind of important to make him not really have hobbies. Eridan DOES have interests: he loves wizards and magic, and he's a hipster. HOWEVER, he only ever talks about magic in pursuit of some other goal, like finding a date or winning at a rivalry, AND he's constantly denying his own interest in these things, because they're frivolous, stupid, ridiculous, and deviations from what he "should" be like. He actively distances himself from things that make him happy. In fact, we only know he's a hipster because it's part of his design and Karkat mentions it once - Eridan himself has never talked about it. That's how far he's buried anything that actually brings him joy.

If your Eridan is smiling for ANY REASON, you are DOING IT WRONG!

While we're on the topic, things Eridan is NOT ACTUALLY INTERESTED IN:

History (he only ever talks about history in the vaguest possible terms; I think he is book smart and genuinely knows a lot ABOUT history, but his actual interest in it is middling. He's just expected to be really obsessed with history, especially military history, as a member of the aristocracy, and he reads it in the same way as one doomscrolls on twitter - it's a way for him to self-reinforce his own mental illness and soothe his cognitive dissonance)

Marine life/marine anything (he's TERRIFIED of the ocean, and has spent a few days underwater TOTAL. He knows nothing of the sea.)

Weaponry (he HAS a lot of guns, so he definitely knows how to use and maintain them, but there's a reason he outsources the building of all his doomsday devices. Also, he got a "god weapon" early on in his life, and has kind of just been... using that. He neither has a need to know much about weaponry, nor has ever displayed any particular interest or knowledge. He leaves fully loaded harpoons just lying around on the floor of his house. It's knowledge of necessity, not interest.)

Hunting/Violence/Murder (he's really good at it, he knows a lot about it, he will teach you on request, he will mention it constantly, but he doesn't actually derive any particular joy out of it, especially since we know his thought process after each kill is "that's going to make an orphaned troll very sad. they will be culled soon :/")

Fashion (he has more of an interest than the average Alternian, but it's still not a lot. He dresses up to emulate Dualscar, and his actual clothing choices beyond that are pretty disastrous. Canon Eridan has never shown an interest in fashion. Even if you do want to play him with an interest in fashion, which I think is fine, you have to remember that he deliberately distances himself from anything that brings him joy, so even if he likes fashion, he'll keep that a secret and insist he only does it for utility purposes.)

Pale Romance (just throwing this in there, it's the one quadrant he is *never* shown to pursue. He's tried Feferi and Nepeta in flushed, Sollux, Terezi, and Kanaya in ashen, and Rose and Vriska in pitch. if anything, he goes out of his way to AVOID pale romances, both because he just had a painful pale breakup, and because he freaks out at the implication that he's weak in any way, which pursuing a pale romance would all but be admitting)

The thing that makes playing Eridan so hard, I think, is that he's abjectly fucking miserable, BY CHOICE, and for most RPers, playing a character who's abjectly fucking miserable kind of goes against the appeal of RPing in the first place (that is, having fun). All of the things he says he's really into are things that he either has no interest in, or that actively make his life less enjoyable. All the things he spends all his time thinking about are things that make him feel anxious and hopeless. All the things he actually likes and would have fun with are the things he actively, deliberately, and loudly decries and suppresses.

So that's point 1: Eridan does NOT have fun.

ERIDAN IS AGGRO AS *FUCK*

The next most thing I see that trips people up is that they make Eridan too friendly, usually as an extension of accidentally giving him too much chill. There are two main factors here at play: the first is that he's desperately trying to be a violent, casteist, oppressive, dangerous sea dweller, and outright pushes that image, and the second is that he's really fucking anxious ALL THE TIME, and most peoples' sociability goes down when they feel the cold breath of the reaper on the backs of their necks 24/7.

When looking at the 4 responses to danger - fight, flight, freeze, and fawn - Eridan will overwhelmingly choose "fight," with "fawn" as his secondary option. This makes absolute sense in context: all his trauma comes from its inescapable nature - if he tries to run from his duties, everybody dies; if he freezes up and fails to complete them, everybody dies. Therefore, his only two options are to Fight, and to channel that violent response into completing his duties, and to Fawn, to capitulate to the things that are hurting him - much moreso the former than the latter. Unfortunately, that bleeds over into everything else. Great!

We can see this illustrated really well in his conversations with Kanaya: Eridan does not ask for favors or help, he makes demands:

CA: kan make her talk to me do somethin ... CA: so help me out tell her to talk to me i think she blocked me you got to

ERIDAN: you should of told me about this ERIDAN: if theres goin to be any sort a hope for our race as the prince of hope i demand to be invvolvved ERIDAN: so dont go anywwhere wwithout me got it

The only time he ever really backs off is in confessions, where he's willing to be like "hey, I think we really got something here, don't you think so?", or when talking to Karkat (Karkat is really the only person that Eridan doesn't feel the need to put on airs around, and we can only speculate as to why. It's because they're destined moirails for each other.)

He will also do this for statements that he isn't 100% sure about. If he's going to say something, he is going to ASSERT IT as if it is IMMUTABLE FACT, even if he's immediately disproven. In which case he will admit fault, but then his NEXT wild assumption is the IMMUTABLE FACT.

CA: wwell fine you dont havve to behavve vvillainous if youre bent up on actin against the grain a your nobility or somesuch CA: i can play that role its not like i evver didnt get my gills dirty before TT: Nobility? What are you talking about? CA: wwell arent you TT: No. What gave you that idea? CA: the wway you CA: ok CA: i had a misconclusion about that so my fault CA: obvviously you got rich blood so maybe when you crash landed you wwerent recognized for it by wwhatevver vvehicle upholds the class structure in human society

I feel like he's the type who, if he's genuinely unsure about something, he just won't say it at all. Basically, Eridan is always operating at either 0% or 100%, with almost no in-between. NO CHILL. Given that he only strikes up conversations when he's trying to achieve something from it - whether that's actively getting someone to do something for him, or just trying to assert that magic is fake - he treats every conversation like it' i's a battle, where the prize is whatever it is he's attempting to do, and his conversation partner is an enemy that he has to beat into submission. (Karkat is the only exception. He actually just likes talking to Karkat, and will do more traditional "hey man you wanna talk about your feelings" kind of dialogue with him.)

If your Eridan has chill, you are doing it wrong!

ERIDAN STRUGGLES WITH EMPATHY

This really needs to be qualified: he does HAVE empathy. He DOES care about his friends. But his brain is really cooked, and he has an extremely difficult time actually working up the emotional energy to express or experience it.

He's kind of downright sociopathic, lol:

ERISOLSPRITE: iim of the miind2et that wwhen you havve a rock 2oliid piiece of a22 tiied twwo the dock, you dont bloody wwell tug the knot loo2e and 2hovve the fucker off wwiith the heel a your boot. ERISOLSPRITE: but then another part of me ju2t wwonder2 wwhat the FUCK ii ju2t 2aiid there? liike that wwa2 ju2t 2uch a wweiird 2ociiopathiic thought ii had, ii hone2tly had no iidea howw bad ii could po22iibly feel about my2elf untiil ii BECAME my2elf, iif THAT make2 2en2e.

Like, okay, how do I explain this. His body count is 2000+. He has an EXTREMELY difficult time caring about life or death. He's had to watch kids cry over their dead parents. He has had to kill kids trying to protect their parents, whom he has then had to kill. And he has done this over, and over, and over again, as long as he can remember, to the point where he calls it "all i evver done practically."

Just for the sake of preserving what's left of his sanity, he's had to learn how to not care about that. If he sees someone crying in front of him, it's unlikely to even emotionally register to him as anything beyond "factually, this person is sad." Shit happens, people die. Violence, tragedy, murder, injury, and death are literally daily occurrences to him. For you, the day I killed your lusus was the most important day of your now tragically short life. For me, it was Tuesday.

Vriska is in the same boat, BTW. I think a combination of just being a less sensitive person to start with, the existence of a support network (Equius and Kanaya and Terezi as friends + she was friends with Team Charge before the... incident), and the lack of all the Duty(tm) and Responsibility(tm), helped her cope a bit better, and be better about opening up to people and relying on them for emotional support.

What this means, in terms of playing/writing him, is that his priorities are extremely skewed, and he is genuinely not going to understand things like "maybe I shouldn't tell this land dweller I'm trying to kill all land dwellers," or "maybe this person is sad and I should comfort them," or "maybe my constant talk about murder and death is offputting to other people." Here he is, literally not understanding why insulting and belittling Kanaya has led to her not wanting to help him, as well as not understanding why Vriska might've blocked him:

CA: wwhatEVVER you are so the vvillage twwo wwheel devvice wwhen it comes to auspisticing CA: you cant let a grudge go by you wwont stick your busy stem betwwixt so get wwith the program fussyfangs GA: If Your Slander Werent So Predictable Id Block You Too For Saying That GA: Has It Occurred To You She May Have Blocked You Because You Are Vvery Ovverbearing GA: I Just Said That Aloud Now In Your Silly Accent And Had A Private Moment Of Enjoyment CA: wwho givves a shit wwhy she blocked me or about my fuckin manners come on youvve got a wway wwith her

His brain is constantly running at a fevered 100% full-tilt run; he doesn't have the space, leisure, or energy to spend considering things from the perspective of other people. It leads to weird paradoxes, where he IS considerate of other peoples' feelings, but doesn't actually consider their feelings. After spending almost the ENTIRE conversation with Kanaya belittling her and demanding she be his and Vriska's auspice, he abruptly switches gears:

CA: fine i get it ill step off CA: you dont wwant to be our auspistice cause you dont wwant to get locked into that sort of relation wwith her i can respect that GA: No Thats Not It CA: yeah it is your real feelins run pretty awwful RUDDY methinks evverybody knowws it CA: especially that assblood karkat he and me havve you so pegged about that its upright silly CA: but its cool its totally fine dont wworry ill leavve you alone and givve you a shot

Because he LIKES Kanaya, he REALLY CARES ABOUT Kanaya, he WANTS GOOD THINGS for Kanaya... and yet is entirely, wholly, not taking her feelings into account at all.

BUT! This also applies in reverse! You can make all the death threats and casteist insults and demands towards Eridan as you want, and he won't give a shit aside from his usual grandstanding protests. The only time we ever truly see him offended is when he's genuinely trying to do Jade a favor by giving her the code to his gun, and she calls it a piece of shit and tosses it out with the trash - and even then, he doesn't take THAT much offense. Judge for yourself:

GG: so ill just dump it outside the house with the trash GG: and if it is fated to find my penpal one day then so be it! CA: god damn it CA: its like you people go out of your wway to think a howw to disrespect me GG: maybe you should have been nicer to me! GG: in any case i dont appreciate the spirit in which the gift was given so this is what i will do! CA: fine fuck it wwhat do i care CA: this has been a completely flippin useless exchange as havve they all been wwith your species

After all, he's accustomed to much, much, much worse. His emotional response here is indignation, not even really HURT. Karkat also makes a bunch of genuine death threats towards Eridan, which get entirely written off as "wwitty repartee." He's just really bad at processing hostility! Hostility is very normal to him!

So basically, before letting Eridan engage in any act of empathy or compassion, you have to ask whether or not he's going to recognize that the situation would call for that in the first place, which he is REALLY BAD at identifying. He only asks Karkat if Karkat wants to talk about his feelings after Karkat explicitly says that he's freaking out in every possible way, and without that explicit indication, I don't think Eridan would've even noticed.

If your Eridan has social skills, you are Doing It Wrong!

This also means that, even if Eridan has realized that he needs to act compassionate, he's still going to be really fucking trash at actually providing emotional support. He can't even emotionally support himself, you think he can figure it out for other people?

The most he can do is call it like he sees it - "this is a stupid thing to get worked up over," for example. Or he can jump straight to solutions, like "so what, are you gonna kill that guy?" Being as charitable as humanly possible, he might be able to fire off a "that's rough, buddy" at ABSOLUTE maximum.

ERIDAN KIND OF JUST SEES SLURS AS FACTUAL DESCRIPTORS (AND OTHER GENERAL NOTES FOR HIS SYNTAX AND VOCAB)

And, let's face it, on Alternia, they kind of are. Kanaya doesn't even bother to call him out for calling Karkat an assblood, Terezi and Feferi and Sollux don't bother taking offense to calling Sollux a mustard blood, and Karkat calls himself a gutter blood at one point. Like, even if you're playing/writing an Eridan who's rejected Alternian society, he'll still probably be out here calling people slurs? Things that would be considered hostile from other characters are very much just neutral coming from Eridan. There is no emotional difference to him, calling someone a rustblood or a burgundy, but he's expected to say rustblood because of his sea dweller status, so that's what he goes with.

Also, make some grounded but wild assertions about people and things. This boy loves to Assume. Writing Eridan is a lot of going "ERIDAN DON'T SAY THAT!!!" it's great. Really painful. Highly unrecommended.

He's obviously quite book smart and uses a lot of big vocabulary words. You guys need to have Eridan go on these insane purple-prose rants more often. They're so fun to write and so cringe to post.

CA: yeah go ahead and kiss us off but therell be blood on your hands CA: you could either play along as our auspistice and do a little mediating like you wwere fuckin hatched to CA: or wwatch she and me devvolvve into fuckin full fledged kismesisses the kind like you dont get once in ten thousand swweeps CA: you knoww thats wwhat it wwould be there wwould be rainboww rivvers runnin through star systems and all nebulizin like liquid firewworks CA: it wwill be beautiful and heartbreaking all at once

CA: but the thing is i need a rivval wwho can pose me a challenge CA: and frankly shes not evven fit for holdin my cape anymore CA: at this point i find all her adorable black pixie dabblins to be prime kiddie playtime shit CA: all of her FRAUDULENT MAGICS cannot come close to posin threat to my mastery ovver the TRUEST SCIENCES CA: an wwith my empiricists wwand i servve as the righteous hope that wwill incinerate delusion and the deluded alike CA: my holy fire is the wwhite fury bled from the wwrath-wweary eyes of fifty thousand nonfictional angels CA: and wwhen theyre finished wweepin they wwill boww before their prince GG: wow what are you talking about

For no reason at all. I'm going to post a little Karkat for comparison.

PCG: THE FUNNY THING IS IN THE FUTURE EVERYONE WILL RECOGNIZE ME AS THE UNDISPUTED LEADER, EVEN YOU. PCG: YOU WILL BE STANDING ON THE TIPPYTOES OF YOUR IDIOTIC METAL SHOES, TAKING DELICATE PURCHASE OF MY NUBBY HORNS AND HOISTING YOURSELF OVER MY HEAD TO PUT YOUR SWEATIEST TOUGH GUY SMOOCH UPON MY TWITCHING SPINE LUMP. PCG: IT WILL BE TENDER AND DEFERENTIAL, LIKE A PAUPER KISSING A NOBLE'S RING. PCG: JUST SCROLL DOWN, READ THE LOGS.

Also, notes about his typing quirk:

First, the ww and vv stuff is actively a fake accent he puts on for the #Aesthetic, and his natural way of speaking doesn't include those at all, so it's entirely likely that if you're writing him after he's rejected Alternian society, or if he's trying to be really really emotionally sincere, he wouldn't be bothering with that part of the quirk specifically.

He doesn't ALWAYS drop the G at the end of words ending in -ing. It's frequent and common, but don't feel bad about letting a word end in a g, especially if it would sound or look better (for example, "being a kid and growwing up" doesn't bother to drop the g's at all).

Similarly, he doesn't ALWAYS change "of" to "a," especially preceding a vowel sound. You gotta be careful with when you change this up, because he pretty much only does it when it would make sense spoken aloud.

In phrases like "must have" or "could have," he will often (but not always) change "have" to "of" (so "must of" or "could of").

Dropping the D from the word "and" happens only one time in the entire comic, so it's probably a typo, and if it isn't, it's REALLY REALLY infrequent.

He will sometimes use shorthanded words, like "em" instead of "them" or "ya" instead of "you." I'd say it's occassional, a bit rarer than the G-dropping. He does tend to use "got to" instead of "gotta," however. Again, try saying his lines out loud, to figure out when best to use what.

Given his loquaciousness and clear command of the language, it's likely that this is for Style, but he also doesn't always bother with proper grammar. Places where "[person] and I" would be used are often switched out for "[person] and me," and he might forgo a contraction like "I've" or "we've" and just post the pronoun (for example, "you got to" instead of "you've got to."

He references ocean shit, and ocean anatomy, like his own fins and gills, pretty often! He just doesn't do the puns. Try using "flippin" instead of "fuckin" every now and then, or "glubbin" instead of "talkin," or nautical analogies.

Also throw in some British "bloody"s every so often.

Cusses like a sailor, though, has one of the highest "fuck" counts relative to wordcount out of all the characters (cough like Karkat cough).

HE DOES NOT USE PUNCTUATION. EVER. (Ok, he does use a period once while talking to Terezi in Alterniabound, but I think that that's a mistake because it's literally the only time). This is actually in STARK contrast to other characters that don't generally use punctuation, like Aradia or Nepeta, who will still use ellipses, exclamation points, and question marks. Eridan actively, consciously forgoes using ANY punctuation, EVER, even for questions (which you shouldn't be asking too many of, because Eridan makes DEMANDS).

ERIDAN DOES NOT ANGST

This is another thing that I see a lot. Yes, Eridan thinks that he's worse than everybody. Yes, he deliberately keeps fun things at bay and focuses on things that make him miserable. Yes, he's sad, anxious, emotionally neglected, etc. etc. But I often see this self-loathing played for dramatics - Eridan being withdrawn, quiet, moody, and sad. Or being consumed with guilt and regret, and wishing he didn't have to be a murderer or wasn't forced into the position he was. And that's just not the vibe.

Because Eridan has a lot of pride. He refuses to appear weak, and he has genuinely lost the emotional capacity to feel too guilty about all the killing. Moreover, here's something I often see get overlooked:

He would think of the murders he committed, and the fact that he's so good at murdering, as good things.

It's not only useful, but oftentimes NECESSARY, for somebody on the team to be willing to make those kinds of sacrifices, to be willing to pull the trigger. Very literally, murder kept him and his friends alive long enough to play the game.

There's no universe in which Eridan would denounce killing and violence, because to do so would be to say that he shouldn't have kept his friends alive. Even in a hypothetical golden ending, where everybody survives to the end, Eridan would be the guy on the team who posits murder as a potential solution to problems, reminds people that society is built on sacrifices and suffering, and offers to do the dirty work himself if nobody else has the stomach for it. As much as being the orphaner was DISASTROUS for his mental and emotional well-being, he wouldn't regret the things he did.

And this is reflected in the comic - the rare times he does break down and show that he kind of hates himself, the focus is never on guilt or regret, it's on his perceived shortcomings - calling himself an idiot or pathetic. Because that's what his real insecurity is - he doesn't hate himself because he sees himself as this awful piece of shit, the way Sollux does, he hates himself because he thinks of himself as not good enough, because if he's Not Good Enough, then Something Bad Will Happen.

Remember, his danger response is FIGHT. It's a different paradigm than what most of us are used to, which is why I see his inner turmoil so often represented by him being moody and broody, which he's never really done in the comic. Eridan doesn't get sad, even though he is sad; he gets mad, aggressive, combative. He doesn't wallow; he just keeps swimming.

CA: i got to keep tryin thats howw all the great military masterminds became great through upright persevverance

Again, his response to being insulted is indignation, not hurt. He doesn't sit in his room feeling sorry for himself, he obsesses over genocide and murdering all the land dwellers. His response to seeing the love of his life turn on him with killing intent is to flip out and start killing right back. After being broken up with, his response is to go and pester his friends (and yell at Gamzee a bit) until he can get some emotional support. He doesn't angst, he tries to solve the problem, and, if he can't solve the problem, he starts shooting.

He's awfully violent! If your Eridan is not awfully violent, you're probably doing it wrong!

BUT, ERIDAN LOVES HIS FRIENDS

At his core, however, as tangled up in all of the above as he may be, Eridan loves:

His friends

Wizards

Magic

Probably hipster shit

Happy endings

He is still, after all, a HOPE player. He struggles as hard as he does because he can't give up on the idea that things will get better, eventually. Even if he's struggling in the wrong direction, toward the wrong ideals, and even if emotionally, he's feeling more and more hopeless and closed in, he can't stop himself from trying, and trying, and trying again.

He loves magic. As much as he tries to push it away and calls it stupid and fake and lame at every turn, he still brought his shitty wands onto the meteor. Why does he love magic? It's an extension of his inability to give up. No matter how hopeless the situation, no matter how awful he feels, no matter how unrealistic salvation might seem, if only magic is real, then there's a solution. He wants to be a wizard so badly because wizards can do magic, and magic can overturn reality, and reality is this awful, inescapable nightmare. He is constantly being caught between nihilism and pessimism and hope and belief. In the comic, the nihilism won, but that's the great conflict at the core of his being.

So ummmmm yeah, I hope any of that helps with writing the fish boy at all. Basically, if you aren't constantly cringing while writing the bullshit that comes out of his mouth, you're probably doing it wrong...

#homestuck #eridan ampora

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seat-safety-switch · 7 months

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All across the world, there is a rush by marketeers to sell you new appliances. The last couple decades of increasingly-shitty build quality have failed to plump their margins enough, so now they're trying the carrot. Now, when you buy a refrigerator, it can be connected to the internet. Some ovens need to be connected to the internet, or they can't cook a turkey. If you went back in time and explained this state of affairs to someone in the Victorian Era, they'd shoot you.

When did our civilization lose its inherent distrust of machines pretending to be human? Half of our most popular science-fiction franchises are about a glad-handing, smiling robot trying to steal or murder our children. Now we're going to let a refrigerator lock down access to nutrients for those same children, because it couldn't resolve DNS? No more of this, I say, which is why I've started a new business.

Here at Appliance Endumbinators, our crack team of computer scientists, computer engineers, and angry people with hammers will work hard to remove any semblance of "intelligence" from your appliances. If you bought a new barbecue and it refuses to work unless you use factory-authorized propane, we'll rip its circuit boards out and splice together the miles of wiring that make up its nervous system until it gives in. We'll find your car and use an angle grinder to cut out the part of its positronic brain that obeys speed limits. And just for laughs, we'll duct-tape a thrift store alarm clock to your coffee maker, so that it can still have your brew ready for breakfast.

Book us in now, before the machines have their way with you. Become the master of your own home, comfortable with the most idiotic of automatons as you watch your neighbours suffer with thousand-page manuals, helpless service calls, and outsourced below-minimum-wage customer support just to toast a waffle.

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scaredpigeons · 4 months

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Aqua Regia II: putting down the roses, picking up the sword.

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

You get settled into your new position, but are you really.. settled? You realize something a bit embarrassing about your new boss too, best keep that one to yourself.

Authors note: this is where we get the slightest bit suggestive. I just cant help myself. HES A DRAGON COME ONNNN

The first thing Neuvillette notices is that his office is startlingly tidy.

Now, he is not a slob by any means, and he prides himself in that fact— but since taking over Lady Furinas responsibilities, he’s found that keeping things as organized as he used to had become increasingly more difficult as the days went on.

He rounded his desk, sitting down with wide eyes as he looked around at the new organizational structure of his desk.

There is an incoming and outgoing bin on either side of his desk, filing folders clearly indicating which documents each folder holds, there's even a fresh pot of ink, and brand new pens placed neatly in an elegant holder. Across the room, against the wall in his direct line of sight is a very large calendar, Large print outlining each day's primary tasks.

As he’s gawking at the lack of clutter, you waltz in, just as lovely as before, and he finds himself staring at you a bit more openly, though your gaze is trained upon the tray holding his favorite tea set, and a few bottles of clear liquid that he knows is fresh water, straight from the cooler.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Neuvillette, I hope you had a pleasant evening.”

He nods as you set the tray down on his desk, carefully placing his teacup and saucer down in front of him.

“Honey lemon, for your tea this morning.” You set the bottles down to the left of him, removing the tray to a vacant table as you continue speaking. “You have two meetings this morning, firstly with Madame Petra Voleange, who wishes to discuss the accommodations you spoke of for her son who was sentenced to the fortress last week— the young man in the wheelchair who was picking pockets.”

You handed him a folder, which was clearly labeled and neatly sorted. “I spoke with the Duke, and this is all the information on what can be provided. Your second meeting is with Kemia, a researcher from Sumeru who wishes to gain your permission to gather information on local flora to aid in her botanical medicine research. The information she provided when booking should be in the top left hand drawer of your desk.”

He slid open the drawer, nodding at the folder placed on the top of the pile.

You handed him another folder, much thicker and darker in color.

“This is for today’s trial, which starts at 2:30pm. I’ve given you a mandatory two hour block starting at noon to take your lunch, and go over the information we have.”

You put a delicate hand on the backs of the two large bottles of water you placed on his desk, and he found himself staring at the way the condensation clung to your skin.

“These are from Mondstadt’s finest spring production. I puttered around last night and was able to sweet talk a distributor into sourcing bottles from all seven nations, and he’s willing to send a bi-weekly shipment for us. Sedene told me that you are fond of the different flavors from all over Teyvat, and I saw that you only get shipments from the different nations individually, so I thought that finding a sole distributor who could outsource them for us would be much more efficient.”

He blinked at you, processing your words carefully.

You stared right back, and as the silence grew, so did the pink on your cheeks. In the back of his mind, he thought it rather endearing that you seemed so flustered, so eager to please him.

“Please say something, If you don’t I'm going to continue to ramble to try and convince myself that I’m doing everything correctly.”

A soft breath escaped him, and then it fluttered into a chuckle, as much as he tried to stop it. Your gaze went wide, and you stood shock still, waiting.

“This is wonderful, much more than I ever would have asked for.” He said, softening his gaze. He saw you relax, and smile back at him— and something inside him twitched.

Since retaining his full dragonhood, he’s been struggling with new and confusing emotions, instincts, and for some reason every time he was in your presence he felt things he’d never experienced before.

But—He felt so incredibly grateful for your assistance, so he tampered these strange emotions down, not wanting to speak of them and scare you off when you had just begun to better his work life.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Thank you. I was so worried I had overdone it and you would be upset.”

“You seem to have a lot of anxieties when it comes to your work performance. Your heart rate spiked the moment you walked in, and only now has calmed to an adequate level.”

You gaped at him, and of course your heart rate returned to its accelerated speed.

“I mean no offense by this,” he floundered— albeit gracefully, softening his tone. “I just mean to say that I wish you would feel more at ease here. You’re doing exceptionally well.”

A strange smell permeated the air around you, sickly sweet and very enticing. He’d smelt something similar before, though much fainter, but he couldn’t remember when, and he knew for sure that he had never smelled anything so mouthwateringly divine as this.

Was it a new perfume? Why hadn’t he noticed it before?

You seemed to turn an even deeper shade of red, before you nodded, bowing slightly before scuttling out the door, stammering about paperwork and your other tasks— carrying that sweet aroma with you.

Strange, he thought. I’ll have to do more research into what this could be.

He’d been experiencing many new senses since regaining his full power, perhaps a heightened sense of smell? He was not sure. All he really knew for certain was that he was thoroughly enjoying your presence here at the Palais.

———————————————

The rain poured heavily this evening, casting everything in a deep gray filter, the dark clouds rolling over the city sky in thick droves.

The trial was terrible. A child murderer had been left unchecked for too long, killing two boys and a girl, leaving one victim alive yet traumatized beyond repair.

The young girl's mother had attended the trial, interrupting during the defense's deposition to scream at the accused, demanding retribution and revenge for her poor daughter, and the lives of the children that were lost before her.

In the end, the woman had to be escorted away, and the trial continued. Justice was indeed served. But the look of broken rage on that mothers face stuck with Neuvillette the entire time, though he pushed it to the back of his mind to remain impassive to anything but the facts.

The rain fell in thick sheets, soaking the streets and making everyone either run for an umbrella or to find shelter. He sat at his desk, back to the window as he listened to the sound of the water beating against the glass.

With his attention drawn toward his thoughts, he almost didn’t hear you enter. He glanced at you as you walked past his desk, placing one of your hands on the window as you looked outside at the mess.

“Wow,” you said. “It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”

Neuvillette felt guilty.

“Ah, my apologies, the rain must put a damper on your mood.” He said before he could even think to filter himself.

He wasn’t exactly trying to hide what he was, but he didn’t think you’d quite figured it out yet.

“Why are you apologizing, silly?” You smiled. “I love the rain. It’s so peaceful and calming.”

His interest was piqued, and he turned towards you in his chair. “Oh?”

You nodded. “I’ve always loved the rain. Something about water being the lifeblood of the earth, you know? The cycle continuing, nourishing us— Washing away the old, bringing in the new.” You flushed a little then, looking down at your feet. “Ah, forgive me, I must sound a bit odd.”

“No,” Neuvillette said, seeing some clouds part ever so slightly outside, a ray of the sun peaking through to shine upon the Palais, upon you. “I quite enjoy the rain too, on more pleasant occasions.”

You grinned at him. “Perhaps we could take a walk then? It looks like it’s slowing down, so we shouldn’t get too many odd stares if we keep to the grounds of the Palais.”

“You wish to walk in the rain? I do not have an umbrella with me, unfortunately.”

You shook your head, walking quickly just outside the door, where you procured a navy blue raincoat with a large hood from some void outside his office where you kept your belongings.

“I never use umbrellas, I love the feeling of the rain directly, don’t you?”

Something in his chest pulled, and he cleared his throat.

“Ah, I do. I didn’t think many others felt the same.”

“It’s quite warm today, so I don’t think you’d run the risk of catching a cold— as long as you don’t mind getting your nice clothes wet, I think we should do it!”

You beamed at him, not knowing that he had never had to worry about catching the common cold before, yet you worried all the same.

You seemed to be unaware of just how you affected him, how brightly you shined to Neuvillette.

He’d not known you for long, but he genuinely hoped that you continued to stay here, working with him, because he was actually starting to look forward to coming to his office, coming to work.

The rain clouds cleared just a bit more.

—————————————

You’re going to lose your job.

If you cannot get a hold of yourself, of these childish, ridiculous, fantastical ideas you’ve managed to curate in your head— your boss is going to realize you’re insane and fire you.

At least, this is what goes through your head when you look in the mirror at the crack of dawn, preparing yourself for work.

Just over a month at this wonderful, enjoyable and well paying job, and your wonderful brain decides to throw you into a myriad of dreams in which your boss, the chief justice and newly reigning figurehead of the nation of Fontaine, was the main focus.

It started off innocent. Dreams about normal and mundane things that happen at work. This was perfectly normal and fine, it happened with nearly every job you had.

You reminisce on days where your dreams consisted of you bagging produce at a local fruit stand as a teenager— oh, such simple times.

But as the weeks carried on, your dreams tended to metastasise into something less than appropriate.

It started with his eyes.

One day at work you caught him observing you. Now— this was not unusual, Neuvillette was a very observant person, and when in a comfortable environment, such as his office, he was not very subtle. It did not bother you, especially when you were doing such mundane things as filling out reports. But this time, when you looked up to check on him, your eyes met— and for a moment you held his stare.

His eyes held such a depth of colour, so striking and vibrant, yet so pale and mystical. And the way he looked at you stirred some aching, foreign thing inside you. It was like he was looking into your very soul, at the blood running through your veins. You flushed, naturally, and hurried off to procure the fresh water for his lunch break.

You tried to pray away the heat that was quickly rushing south, antagonizing yourself thinking that somehow, someway, he was going to find out that just a singular look had you nearly swooning like a hormonal teenager.

This look then proceeded to haunt nearly every dream, and the most recent one was something straight out of one of those light novels from inazuma.

In the dream, you’d been arguing about something, which hadn’t happened in the waking world yet, so your brain just conjured some petty and random cause. You’d gotten frustrated, turning to stomp off. He’d caught your wrist as you were walking away from him, and had pulled you close, staring into your eyes like he was going to devour you.

You had awoken covered in sweat, desperately needing a cold shower.

It wasn’t even all that scandalous. You dreamed of his eyes, of light touches, familiarity, closeness. And like a fool, this still sent your heart into overdrive, barely being able to look at him throughout the day. Ever since he’d mentioned being able to hear your heart beating out of control, you tried to get a handle on your nerves around him, but this new issue only seemed to make things worse.

One day, around the two month mark, you thought you’d been caught.

It was just another day, you didn’t even remember what you’d said to make him laugh, but it was a short, slight wheeze that pulled almost involuntarily from his chest. It made you grin, it made you feel light.

“Oh,” he shook his head, chuckling out your name and smiling down at you from where he stood by the window. “Your sense of humor never fails to impress, you really are a joy to work with.”

Your heart jumped into your throat at his words, at his light and familiar tone, at his genuine smile. You felt your face heat up, and your thighs twitched with the urge to squirm, feeling some rather inappropriate things for your current setting.

You wanted to smack yourself. You were a professional person, someone who took their job extremely seriously. You were not some degenerate whose knees buckled whenever they received praise from a handsome man, a handsome man who just happened to be your boss.

Neuvillettes nose raised a bit, and he breathed deep, as if he was smelling the air. “See, there it is again.” He said, stepping closer to where you sat at his desk, working on the weekly reports. “That scent, I only ever smell it when you’re here. Are you wearing some kind of perfume?”

Your eyes widened. What smell? You thought back to your morning routine, deodorant, a light moisturizer on your skin, you wore your bulle fruit perfume this morning, loving the bright and citrusy scent it gave you, lasting throughout the day. You told him this, and he shook his head, brows furrowing in contemplation.

“No, it's not that,” he said. “It’s difficult to explain, it's sweet yet earthy, rich…and incredibly enticing.” He sort of mumbled that last part, though he seemed to be speaking more to himself than you anyways.

“Rather puzzling, and it tends to happen in conjunction with your fluster, though I haven’t quite pieced together why you’re still so anxious around the workplace, I've been quite diligent with reminding you how wonderful of a job you’re doing.”

You did squirm this time, feeling a visceral throb between your legs, and a sudden weight drop in your chest one after the other as a thought warmed its way into your head.

Could he…. Could Neuvillette really be smelling your arousal? And on top of that, not understanding that was what it was?

For lack of a better phrase, you would say that you’re incredibly screwed.

#neuvillette fluff #neuvillette x female reader #genshin impact neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette #genshin impact

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animeomegas · 17 days

Note

which naruto omegas do you think handle it better with an alpha who is a bit of a crybaby when gets sick? i had a really bad fever the last few days and it amuses me to think how my mom could have handled it like a champ while i felt like a victorian child about to see the light. for example, neji would feel a little smug seeing how his alpha depends so much on him, but i also think that the first times he would be terrible at trying to comfort them lol

Haha! My brother is a lot like that XD Let me give you my thoughts! <3

Neji - You're so right in that he's great with looking after a sick alpha. He's not bad at comforting, as long as you're following his instructions. If you've eaten, had some water, taken some medicine, bathed etc. at his instruction, then he's happy to indulge in some cuddles or head pats when it's resting time. He does leave as soon as you're asleep though haha.

Shino - He's pretty good with this. It does make him a little anxious at first, but once he's got the clear from a mednin that you'll be fine, he actually prefers an alpha who will stay in bed and be dramatic haha. If you go wandering off or insistently try to do things even though you're sick, you'll stress him out. He makes a schedule of care for food and medicine and bathing, and follows it to the letter. During any of the down periods, he always sits by you and reads a book or does some work. He won't leave you alone.

Haku - He's incredibly indulgent with any level of drama while sick. He does give that look when he thinks you're overreacting a bit, but you can have anything your heart desires if it will make you feel better. Anything. He'll rub your back for hours if you so desire it. He also makes the best herbal remedies of anyone on this list. His soups are medicinal and tasty!

Itachi - He finds solace and peace when caring for his loved ones, so in a weird way he kind of enjoys it. There's no judgement, just love and gentle care. He will be disappointed though, if you put up a fight over eating or taking medicine. He is hesitant to cuddle, only because he's been told not to cuddle with sick people his whole life, but he's willing to sit with you as long as you need. If you ask him to stay, he'll stay.

Shisui - He's definitely going to tease you about being so dramatic, but all his teasing is designed to make you feel better, not worse. He's surprisingly competent at looking after you in some ways, except cooking. He's going to outsource the cooking to someone else. But other than that, he's quite doting and will definitely give in to cuddles, especially if you cry. He's weak to crying.

#asks #headcanons #a/b/o #omegaverse #shisui #itachi #neji #haku #shino #alpha!reader #hcs

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beyondkion-blog · 2 months

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Rating Resident Evil Men’s Marriageability

Note: I tried my best to be impartial with each of the men, regardless of my personal opinions

Chris Redfield

Pros

Loyal

Protective

Trusting

Wants to see the best in people

Strong

Anti-capitalist

Cares deeply

Prioritizes family

Ass that you could bounce a quarter off of

Cons

Smoker

Prone to bouts of depression

Definitely has PTSD

Drinks to forget

Literally solves his problems by punching

Married to his job

Rude to waitstaff

Keeps secrets because “it’s better for you not to know”

Blames himself for things out of his control

Canonically a bit of a slob

Overall Score: 5/10 - Could do worse, but could definitely do better. High potential of being a stereotypical “straight husband”

Albert Wesker

Pros

Rich

Attractive

Super strength

Super speed

Verified genius

Might destroy the world for you

Looks good in a leather jacket

Natural leader

One of only two RE men to canonically have sex

Cons

Violent sociopath

Might just destroy the world in general

Obsessed with power

Believes himself to be superior to all other beings

Turned himself into a giant worm monster

100% would track your phone

Withholds physical affection as a power play

Overall Score: 1/10 - At best you’ll exist as a bored but scared trophy spouse. At worst he’ll dissect you as part of an experiment

Leon S. Kennedy

Pros

Loyal

Kind

Affectionate

Caring

Silly sense of humor

Protective

Willing to be emotionally vulnerable

Always wants to do the right thing

Soft hair

Trusting

Goes out of his way to help people

Cares deeply about his friends

Strong

Flexible

Tries to make the best of any situation

Dog lover

Drives a motorcycle

Cons

Definitely has PTSD

Prone to depression

Bordering on/alcoholic Degeneration and up

Body belongs to the US government

A little dumb

Should not be behind the wheel

Overall Score: 8/10 - Potential to be an amazing, loving husband with therapy and support, but may fall into toxic or even self-harm tendencies if left unchecked

Carlos Oliveira

Pros

Sweet

Protective

Kind

Physically Affectionate

Supportive

Strong

Cares deeply about the people in his life

Skilled with his hands

Emotionally vulnerable

Trusting

Wants to be the best person he can be

Willing to break laws to help those he loves

Natural provider (acts of service love language 100%)

Verbally affectionate

Sense of humor

Laid back attitude

Gorgeous hair

Respects boundaries

Cons

Probably has unprocessed trauma

Will do Dumb Guy Shit™️

Trusts too quickly

Will throw himself into dangerous situations without thinking it through

Will probably make inappropriate jokes without thinking unless you tell him specifically not to

Likely wanted in multiple countries

Overall Rating: 10/10 - Literally marry this man immediately. He will be a good partner, good husband, and good father. May need reigning in occasionally, but it comes from a place of love

Luis Serra Navarro

Pros

Always has the best intentions

Cares deeply about his friends and family

Tries to do the right thing

Sense of humor

Highly intelligent

Extremely curious

Debonair

Charming

Good dancer

Chivalrous

Book lover

Good with his hands

Cons

Doesn’t open up easily

Tends to trust the wrong people

Smoker

Doesn’t think things through

Prefers fantasy over reality

Doesn’t always keep his word

Self-serving

Unprocessed trauma

Tends to deflect

Overall Score: 5/10 - Potential to be a great partner, but would take time and patience to get there (best outsourced to a therapist)

Jake Muller

Pros

Snarky

Literally designed after male models

Loyal

Will have your back

Affectionate once he opens up

Surprisingly good with kids

Drives a Motorcycle

Self-sacrificing

Looks amazing in black leather

Cons

Daddy issues

Self-sacrificing

Tendency to only do things that benefit him

Takes a long time to open up

Illegal drug use

Wanted by multiple governments

Would need to be forced into therapy if he went at all

Overall Score: 4/10 - German Shepherd partner vibes. Would be forever loyal to you if you broke through his walls, but only to you. Probably wouldn’t stop any (self-) destructive habits of his either

Piers Nivans

Pros

Kind

Trusting

Loyal

Nice to waitstaff

Appreciates good food

Cares about the emotional well-being of his loved ones

Not easily deterred

Cons

Self-sacrificing

Codependent tendencies

Most likely has unresolved trauma

Hotheaded

Overall Score: 7/10 - The potential is definitely there, however - like Chris - Piers winds up with a high likelihood for being a stereotypical “straight husband,” mainly due to his upbringing in a military family

Ethan Winters

Pros

Loyal

Trusting

Kind

Good with kids

Indestructible

Gentle

Protective

Never gives up

Would still love you if you were a worm

Not easily scared

Domestic

Creative

Good under pressure

MacGyver skills

Soft

Self-sacrificing

Cons

Mold

Bad luck

Arguably too trusting

Self-sacrificing

Thousand yard stare

Overall Score: 10/10 - Like Carlos, marry this man immediately. Second only RE man to canonically have sex and the only one to get married. Just hope you don’t have a penicillin allergy

#resident evil #biohazard #leon kennedy #chris redfield #leon s kennedy #carlos oliveira #albert wesker #ethan winters #jake muller #piers nivans #luis sera navarro #luis serra #chris resident evil #re8 village #re4 remake #resident evil 6 #re3 remake #please get these men some therapy #tw sh mention

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writingwithcolor · 10 months

Text

Japanese Q Speedround: Google Is Right There

Hi, it’s mod Rina. It’s time to speedrun some asks.

@troublsomeidiots asked:

I'm writing a character who is both black and Japanese and lives in japan in a primarily Japanese area and wanted some help in writing a person who is biracial who lives in primarily homogenous society? Like what kind of struggles she would face, especially as a person who has never met anyone who is black other than in passing?

Open Youtube. Hit search bar on Youtube. "being black in japan" "half black half japanese in japan" "black hafu in japan". Try different combinations of keywords. Bon voyage.

(neither Marika nor I are Black. We will not be speaking to experiences we do not have.) (we can outsource to some of our friends if you ask a specific question. These are not specific questions.)

(Black Japanese readers--please feel free to comment if there’s something you want OP to know!)

@layzeal asked:

Hello! I have a question regarding family/last names in Edo period Japan. My story takes place in 1816, my character was born in 1796 from a commoner family (that she gets separated from a few years later, and in a different country).

I've read that regular people in Japan didn't adopt the use of family names until Meiji restoration, but I'm not sure how true that is. Would a family of commoners in that period carry a family name, or would they only use their first names? And any idea if that family would have to present a last name when moving/passing by a different country that does use them?

It's important for me to know, since the existence of a last name or not would quite heavily influence how hard it'd be for the family to meet again, and which means would be used. Thanks in advance!

When I gave Google some keywords from your query, the second result explained how pre-Meiji commoners without family/clan names used bynames to distinguish themselves, and gives additional data on them. Maybe give it another Google?

@weavefeather asked:

Hello, I am a writer and I really need some advice. I am wotking on my book since a few years, maybe 2 or 3, and I finally got the points together how it could begin. My plan is that my MC (named Nanami Kudo) is an lawyer of the FBI and has to go to her homecountry Japan, beacuse they send her to foreign investigations about a syndicate of people..... And the some things happen, like her brother who still lives in jp doesn't really welcomes her, some complications with the police and so on...

But thats not the point! Im really struggling to take in words how she gets to the other country, leaving her home behind and her partner she worked with. Do you have any advice on it, maybe how to structure it, some words or scenarios that fit?

How she gets to the other country: …..She flies there.

How US government agents/workers relocate and what the experience is like: That's your job to google. We are not government agents. Try anecdata on reddit, reddit AMAs, and Quora.

It’s unclear what her relationship/proximity to Japan is. What kind of nikkei is she? Is she mixed race or monoracial? How much Japanese can she speak? So many unknowns. Go read our Japanese tag and appreciate just how many ways one can be a Japanese person. Until then, you are nowhere near close to being able to write a nikkei homecoming plot.

Lastly, you are the author. Give us scenarios yourself and come back to us.

In Conclusion

Guys, you all gots to google some more. It’s beneficial to both of us: not only do we get to help with more specific things and have enough info to do so, but you don’t have to wait months until your ask comes through the backlog only to receive an answer you could have researched in anywhere from a couple days to 3 minutes.

~ Rina

“But Rina, I don’t know how!”

You’re in luck!

First, try one of our own post on Google shortcuts.

Second, stay tuned for some very relevant posts...

COMING SOON: WWC’s A Beginner’s Guide to Academic Research

#japanese #mixed race #japanese diaspora #research #asks

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prokopetz · 1 year

Note

Thank you for the explanation! ❤️ now I’m intrigued, though: Where can I find information on why 4E was published under a more restrictive license?

(With reference to this post here.)

Before we can talk about that, it's necessary to understand what an incredible shitshow 4E's commercial launch was in general. I go over that in some depth here.

Understanding the sequence of events outlined there is important because it dispels one of the most widely accepted wrong answers to your question: that Hasbro and WotC cooked up the 4E Game System License (GSL) because they didn't want a repeat of Pathfinder.

In truth, the 4E GSL is what caused Pathfinder; Paizo was one of a handful of third-party publishers who'd taken advantage of the D&D System Trademark License (STL) to produce officially branded D&D products, and they'd likely have been perfectly happy to continue doing so if WotC hadn't come to them and said "hey, if you want to remain STL-compliant, you need to throw away all of your 3E material and re-develop it for 4E, under a more restrictive license, with zero notice – that's cool, right?"

(It was not, in fact, cool.)

As for why the 4E GSL really happened, there are a variety of opinions on that – a lot of it ultimately comes down to internal office politics, so there may never be a clear answer. As far as I've been able to gather, however, the problem is that the OGL had always served two masters. By all accounts, several of the OGL's principal architects genuinely believed in establishing a creative commons for D&D – but that's not how they sold the idea to the suits at the head office.

Internally, the pitch in favour of the OGL was that it would allow WotC to delegate the creation of D&D supplements and adventures to third parties, allowing WotC itself to focus on core book sales. (i.e., the PHB/DMG/MM trio and the main setting hardbacks.) Core books were always the more lucrative side of the coin, with supplements and adventures serving less as a profit-making enterprise in themselves, and more as long-tail support to drive further core book sales. The prospect of being able to get that long-tail support for free was very tempting, and is likely the main reason that corporate agreed to publish the Third Edition under the OGL in the first place.

The OGL accomplished that, to a degree, but it also resulted in a lot of publishers lifting D&D's rules text wholesale – remember, the OGL allows verbatim copying-and-pasting of rules text, which was its main draw from the perspective of third-party publishers – and stuffing it into their own standalone games. This sort of thing was fairly small-time prior to the Pathfinder debacle, but there was enough of it going on for WotC's new owner, Hasbro, to see it as a thorn in their side.

TL;DR version: in all likelihood, 4E's GSL was an effort by Hasbro to rein in the OGL and return it to the purpose for which it had initially been sold to WotC corporate: an instrument for outsourcing D&D's long-tail support to unpaid third parties while reaping the benefits of that support in core book sales.

(Of course, as outlined in the linked post, what was actually accomplished was to shrink D&D's third-party support practically to nothing while simultaneously creating its own largest competitor; it's a fair question how much of this was due to the GSL itself, and how much of it was due to all the other corporate incompetence and general fuckery attendant to 4E's rollout, but either way, the result was WotC and Hasbro pulling the plug on 4E early, and reverting to the OGL for 5E. It was a learning experience all around – though the present business with the OGL 1.1 leads one to suspect that they didn't learn the right lessons!)

#gaming #tabletop roleplaying #tabletop rpgs #dungeons & dragons #d&d #hasbro #wizards of the coast #ogl #ogl 1.1 #game design #publishing #swearing

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prettyquickpoetry · 9 months

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To all other editors and ghostwriters:

There’s apparently this $2000 online course called Fiction Profits Academy ‘teaching’ people how to make tons of passive income on Amazon as an ‘author’ by outsourcing everything. They’re being taught to squeeze writers and editors for everything they’ve got for the lowest possible price.

The students have flooded Upwork. You’ve probably seen all the many listings for ghost writing with infinitesimal budgets popping up. STAY AWAY.

These people are trying to flood the self publishing market with the sole purpose of making money. They are going to drive the cost of work way down, negatively affecting all freelancers whether they work directly with an FPA student or not.

I don’t know what makes them think this is a good idea. Authors who actually write books themselves and publish with the purpose of sharing their stories barely break even.

Readers aren’t stupid. They can tell if your story has heart or not, and these people trying to pay $300 for an entire novel? There’s no heart in that.

So good luck to these students, many of whom are already $10k+ in the red. And good luck to the freelancers they’re bleeding dry.

#fiction profits academy #fpa #fiverr #upwork #freelance editor #con speaks #can you tell i just got burned by one of them?#stringing me along for work for WEEKS and then backing out because i’m trying to make a living wage #after a month long project she made me cry over with her harsh unfair feedback #lollll

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yourheartonfire · 1 year

Text

"Well, isn't this a pretty picture."

The protagonist jolted up to - oh no. Jolted up from where they'd fallen asleep on the floor of the backshelves, books and notes scattered around them like some kind of nerd bomb had gone off. And the antagonist, their old rival, was standing over them, lamp in hand and that same stupid sneer on their face.

"Shit. I mean..." The protagonist shook their head, trying to clear the cobwebs. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here now," the antagonist said with narrowed eyes. "Which you'd know if you bothered to keep up with changes in your staff. The real question is what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be throwing a diplomatic reception or issuing royal commands or snoozing in the royal sheets?"

"You want a command?" The protagonist pushed themselves up. It was easy to put on the imperious mask when they were so tired and so irritated. "Help me clean this up. Then forget you saw me. Think you can handle that, Second Aide to Librarian?"

The antagonist's face was a study. But they put down the lamp with only a small whunk. "Yes, Your Majesty," they said and started scooping up books into a pile. The protagonist choked back a yawn as they sorted their scrawled pages of notes into piles. For a few moments they worked side by side in silence, the protagonist ignoring the looks the antagonist kept directing to the back of their head.

"I'm sorry... for your loss," the antagonist said stiffly. "I know you were close to Dax."

"Thank you," the protagonist said. It was a rote response now.

"The kingdom of Sterztan?" the antagonist said, rather more tentatively as they glanced at the title. "Don't you have people now to be experts for you?"

"Oh yes." The protagonist folded their notes into a neat stack. "The ambassador to Sterztan is one of my greatest allies on the council. And this morning she looked us all in the face and assured us that Sterztan would never pose a challenge to our metals imports."

The antagonist's brow wrinkled. Their fingers twitched towards the pages in their hands. "But... half Sterztan's economy is based on their silver trade."

"I know." The protagonist rubbed. "So my ally is either an idiot or a liar. Not the kind of research I can outsource to a secretary."

"Ah." The antagonist put down their books on a an empty shelving cart. "So of course you became hyper-obsessed over this and snuck off to waste a night researching something you already knew about Sterztan's economy."

"I didn't sneak anywhere," the protagonist snapped. "I am the crown-"

Abruptly the antagonist moved. Suddenly the protagonist found themselves crowded up against the shelves, the antagonist towering over them. "The crown," they said, "without their guards."

"How dare you!" The protagonist shoved the antagonist back. "Are you insane?"

"Are you?" The antagonist grabbed another book off the floor angrily. "You're our ruler now. I expect you to at least make better use of your time."

"But this is the only thing I'm good at!" the protagonist wailed. The antagonist froze in a half-crouch but the protagonist couldn't stop. Exhaustion and the unfairness of all it was too much. "I'm not supposed to be ruling anything; I was supposed to be here, doing research for Dax while he dealt with all the politics and rituals and lies-"

"Hey, hey, hey." The antagonist was crowding up against them again. But this time it felt... supportive? A warm hand on their back as the protagonist gasped for air through the panicked sobs. "You've got this."

"I really don't," the protagonist moaned. "God, I wish I were you. No that's not true. But I wish I had your job."

"There you go, that sounds more like you." The antagonist tugged at the protagonist's arm insistently, until the two were sitting side by side on the floor. "Okay. I'm going to write you a report."

"I already figured out the Sterztan thing," the protagonist sighed.

"Not about that. About every stupid mistake every great sovereign we've ever had made in their first year as the crown."

The protagonist wiped their nose on their sleeve. "That sounds horrible."

"It will be. But," the antagonist scooted closer. Their hand was still rubbing circles into the protagonist's back. It was weirdly soothing. "My point is that every great sovereign starts out green."

"Green like inexperienced, or green like constantly feeling that you're going to throw up?" the protagonist muttered.

The antagonist grabbed their hand. "I'm saying that once you compare where you are now against where our other sovereigns were in their first year, you're going to see that you're actually doing all right. I'm not going to lie, you're doing a lot better than I thought you would be."

The protagonist huffed a tired laugh. "That sounds... like a nice theory. Got the data to back it up?"

The antagonist quirked their lip. Not quite the same sneer. "Are you ordering up some midnight research?"

The protagonist hauled themselves to their feet. "Nope. You volunteered. I'll expect that report on my desk by tomorrow. That is, tomorrow tomorrow," they added. "Not in - oh, god, in six hours."

"Go to bed," the antagonist said, picking themselves up too. "Good night."

The report was on the protagonist's desk in 10 hours.

#my fiction #royalty #royal x rival #hero x villain #for the genre #fantasci #I guess #100

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jazzfordshire · 2 years

Note

I'm loving all of your extra bits from the 70s AU, i think it might be my favorite fic of yours (but tbh I can't really decide.) i hope you keep writing more in Lena's pov :)

also would you ever consider writing a lil story of them like a year or so after the story takes place?

It took me a while to answer this, but ask and you shall receive!

Developing photos has always been something like meditation for Lena. The hum of the red safelight, the soothing repetitive tasks, and the tangible physical result of her hard work has always driven her to develop them herself even when she could afford to outsource it. She used to hate being disturbed while working, but like so many things, Kara has become the exception – when she hears Kara’s familiar heavy footfalls coming down the stairs over the soft background noise of the new Simon & Garfunkel album, she only feels warmth.

“Permission to enter?” Kara calls from the other side of the black curtain, and Lena makes sure all her photos are set before answering in the affirmative. The peek of light is fast, and soon she feels Kara’s arms wrapping around her middle as the blonde looks over her shoulder at what she’s working on.

Usually she’d be doing paid projects down here, but this time the photos are from her personal film - pictures of Kara, pictures Kara has taken of her, shots of them together. Group photos with their friends. Snapshots of their life together. Usually their everyday photos are Polaroids, and Lena has a box full of them on a shelf upstairs; quick shots of Kara cooking or reading, of her lover gardening or tangled and smiling half-naked in their sheets. These film photos are from Lena’s better quality cameras, and she’s excited to finally see them coming to life.

Kara’s hands are gentle when they land on Lena’s hips, the rough skin of her fingertips catching on Lena’s shirt before slipping underneath to sit naturally above Lena’s waistline - she’s gotten callouses from all the painting she’s been doing lately, and Lena loves the way they feel on her skin.

“New batch?” Kara asks, pressing a kiss to Lena’s cheek. Lena nods.

“Mhmm. Ours, this time.”

“You finally developed those?”

Lena reaches up to point to a few of the drying photos hanging from pegs above them and slowly coming to life. One of Lena in bed, taken by Kara as an experiment with the camera buttons and turned out to be a wonderful candid. A perfect shot of their kitten curled up and sleeping on Kara’s chest while the blonde dozes on their couch. One of Kara at the march they went to together last month, holding a big painted sign that says gay liberation now! Kara had been so nervous to go, to exist so brazenly in public, but once they got there she’d been so brave. So proud.

“I didn’t realize there were so many,” Kara says, setting her chin on Lena’s shoulder.

“Neither did I until I started. I’m going to make an album.”

“An album, huh?” Kara grins, and Lena can feel the movement of it. “Is it going to be called Kara’s first year as a lesbian?”

“How about Kara’s year of queer?” Lena suggests cheekily, and she’s gratified when Kara bursts into laughter. She tucks her face fully into Lena’s neck, and her embrace tightens comfortably.

“I like that. Oh! Hold on, I have the perfect thing -”

And then Kara is gone in a whirlwind, bounding up the stairs like thunder. Lena has noticed that she’s become so much more at home in her body over the last year, no longer putting all her energy into making herself small and unobtrusive. She’s loud now, limber and free to laugh and a little clumsy. She wears comfortable clothes and sits with her legs spread and talks with her hands, and Lena loves it.

When Kara comes back down, she’s holding a book. Lena can hardly see it in the low light but when Kara holds it up she recognizes it as a faded Emily Dickinson compilation. The spine is so well-used that it’s almost cracked; it’s one of the few things Kara brought with her when she left Mike, Lena remembers. Kara opens it, and sitting inside it like two bookmarks are a pair of Polaroids.

“I looked at these every day before that first night we were together,” Kara admits, taking the Polaroids out to show Lena – they’re from the first day Kara ran between their old houses in the blue cords and button-up Lena bought her, which still hang in a place of honour in their shared closet. The day Lena had a mini-photoshoot and felt like she saw the core of Kara for the first time. “I hid them in here and I’d take them out when Mike was sleeping because they felt like the only real thing in that house. Like a window when I’d lived my life in a closed room.”

One of the photos is of just Kara, posed on Lena’s ottoman with her elbows braced on her knees and looking at the camera with probably her first easy and confident smile, and the other is of both of them. It’s bright, almost washed-out by the flash because Lena had taken it from so close, but their faces are still visible – Lena is laughing, and Kara is gazing at her with so much obvious love and confusion that Lena is flabbergasted that she hadn’t seen it earlier than she did.

“Kara…” Lena whispers, leaning into Kara’s side as she looks down on their faces from what feels like a millennia ago. It’s only been a year, but they’re both so far from the people they were in these pictures.

“When you took them, I’d never felt so alive. So seen. Now I feel that way every day.” Kara hands her the photos, smiling. “You should put them on the first page.”

Lena takes them, setting them carefully down next to the stack of finished photographs and pulling Kara into a long kiss. “I will. I’m going to make so many albums, you’ll be sick of them by the end.”

“Never,” Kara grins against her lips. “I want to remember every day I get to spend with you.”

“You always know exactly what to say.”

“I spent 27 years never saying anything,” Kara says with a shrug. “Keeping it all inside. I have a lot of catching up to do.”

It’s an admission that’s both happy and sad, and Lena peppers her face with tiny kisses until they’re both smiling.

“So, did you come down here originally because it’s almost time?” Lena asks, grabbing Kara’s wrist to peek at her watch. “I guess I should come upstairs and help before everyone gets here.”

“It’s past noon.”

“Already?” Lena gasps, frowning at the hands on the clock. “I’m sorry, love I didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”

“I’ve gotten things started already,” Kara says easily, kissing the top of Lena’s head. “I just need your help with the food. I grabbed burgers at the store – it seemed right for Independence Day, but I’ve never really grilled anything before. So if I muck it up I need you to eat it and pretend it’s amazing, deal?”

Lena rolls her eyes affectionately. Kara has never messed a single thing up in the kitchen, but for some reason – Mike’s discouragement, she’s sure – she remains self-conscious about her own cooking. “You know I’ll love anything you make. And then I’ll do the dishes.”

Kara ushers Lena up the stairs, closing the curtain behind them and giving Lena’s butt an enthusiastic tap as she reaches the top. It makes Lena jump and giggle, and she whirls on Kara to retaliate only to find her standing so close that all she can do is poke her in the belly.

“Kara!”

“What?” Kara feigns innocence, but her smile gives her away. Lena pokes her again, aiming for a ticklish spot, but Kara interrupts her attempts at vengeance with a kiss that turns from playful to heated so quickly that it makes Lena’s head spin. Kara’s hands have moved to her thighs, lifting her up and clearly on a path to press her into the nearest wall, when the doorbell rings.

Kara pulls away, groaning loudly.

“Of course. Duty calls,” Lena says a little breathlessly, taking a few deep calming breaths as Kara sets her feet on the ground again. “Come on, if your sister catches us in the act again she’ll need intensive therapy.”

Lena pulls Kara towards the entryway, Kara grumbling good-naturedly the whole way. Their kitten Streaky jumps off the couch, weaving between their legs and meowing until Kara picks him up; before they can even get to the door Kelly has opened it and behind her Alex has shouted you’d better both have clothes on this time!, and a timer goes off in the kitchen. Through the window Lena can see Sam’s car has pulled in and Jack is exiting the passenger side with an armful of fireworks, and Alex and Kelly’s two dogs rush past their legs to bound into the house and play.

It’s chaos, but it’s their chaos. Their family. And Lena loves every second.

The original fic is here, and the Lena POV snippets are here, here, here, and here.

#supercorp #supercorp fic #70s au #this is fun! i am working on more Lena snippets #this is short but i hope it satisfies that need for a glimpse

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hauntedestheart · 1 year

Text

A Business Proposition (Male Bodyswap)

This is loosely inspired by the premise of the Netflix film Perfect Date (2019)... very loosely, with a tf twist.

Peter Turner loved people- he went to college for it, he often joked.

Unfortunately getting a job in the field of anthropology without a masters degree was damn near impossible, and the only thing more impossible was finding a way to get the money to fund graduate school.

His bachelor's degree had landed him a lofty position at Starbucks, and while the employee discount was nice, it barely paid the bills. Peter had to look into alternate revenue streams to supplement his income, and he decided to play to his strengths: his looks.

Back in high school he'd run a silly "perfect date" program where, for a price, he'd spend an evening offering the illusion of romance to a girl. He'd be a pretty face to listen to them talk and compliment them– all perfectly innocent fun, and he loved to make people happy so it worked out well for everyone.

Kickstarting the business back up as a 24 year old college grad was... a bit different. It had been one thing when he was a teenager holding hands with a classmate, but adults had different expectations and while he was clear he was NOT a prostitute, if he had to spend one more afternoon pretending to be a side piece to make an ex-husband jealous, he was going to give up on his dreams entirely.

Recently some sudden unexpected expenses had arisen and put him in a tight spot so Peter was desperate, desperate enough to consider taking up some of the more dubious offers he'd received because the money might be too good to pass up.

That’s probably why he didn’t get up immediately when a guy plunked down in the seat across from him.

“Kim?” Peter asked, eyeing the boy sitting across from him. He was a gangly looking Asian fellow, probably around Peter's age, who looked like he didn't get out much if his rumpled clothes and shaggy hair were any indication. His pale skin highlighted the dark bags sagging beneath his eyes, which despite the rest of his appearance were bright and alert.

He was decidedly not the girl Peter had been booked to see.

“Yeah that’s me." The boy flashed him a sunny smile, as if nothing was wrong. “Thanks for showing up, I saw your posting and knew that you would be perfect.”

“Sorry, I don’t do dates with dudes.” Peter said, crossing his arms in the way he knew made him look vaguely intimidating. “Pretty sure that it said that in the description.”

Kim chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m not hitting on you. I’m just here with a business proposition.”

“A what?” Peter was confused. He shook his head. “I’m not interested in pyramid schemes man.”

“No, I assure you it’s relevant to your business,” Kim leaned forwards and smiled wolfishly at Peter. "You run a dating service, right? I'm about to revolutionize your business model. What if I told you that, through clever allocation of your resources, you could outsource your labor while offering clients a one-of-a-kind personalized experience? And all it'll take for you to get there is to sit here and listen to my pitch."

Peter wasn't an idiot, he had a college degree, which is why he was certain that that had not been an acceptable answer.

"Look," he tried again. "I promise this is not me being homophobic but like I said, I don't do dates with other men."

“You misunderstand," Kim said blithely. "I don’t want to go on a date with you. I want to go on a date as you.”

The young man paused as if this were some sort of mind blowing revelation but Peter just stared at him for a few seconds, dumbfounded, then rose to his feet.

“Yeah, sorry dude, whatever it is you’re after I don’t think I’m gonna be able to help you,” he said, then he turned to walk away.

“Wait!” Kim shouted after him, and something in his voice made Peter stop. The other guy sounded… genuine. Peter turned back to face the guy, and was surprised by the serious look on his face. “I know that this is very weird but I wasn’t sure how to ease us into this topic and clearly a cheesy line was the wrong approach. But you’re gonna wanna hear this, I promise I'm not wasting your time. I think we can help each other out.”

When he saw that Peter wasn't moving, he cleared his throat and continued. "Just hear what I have to say and even if you think it's a load of crap, I'll give you a thousand bucks. Sound good?"

Peter sighed. "Okay, fine. What is it?"

The other boy glanced around, almost nervously, and then gestured behind himself.

"Not here, we need to go somewhere private," Kim whispered, his previous confidence gone. "Are you comfortable going to one of the conference rooms? I'm not gonna do anything crazy, I promise."

Peter took a moment to mull over his options. On the one hand, going off with a stranger to an enclosed location seemed like a very bad idea but on the other hand, he was probably four inches taller than Kim and Peter could probably bench press the boy so he didn't feel very threatened. What he did feel, however, was curious.

"Lead the way."

Kim, it turned out, was Kim Shinwei, an eccentric young tech millionaire who had made his fortune developing a range of programs and technologies that included the very service Peter had used to build his own app. But his real passion was a secret, experimental project he'd been working on for a few years.

"You're joking, right?" Peter asked incredulously. He waved at the air. "Is this a hidden camera show or something?"

Kim seemed less than impressed. "I'm dead serious."

"A body swapping machine?" Peter scoffed. "You expect me to believe that?"

Kim's eyebrow quirked up. "You think I can't do it?"

"I think it's impossible," Peter said flatly.

"Nothing's impossible if you really put your mind to it." Kim paused. "Plus have the funding, the time, an extensive knowledge of the relevant, fields, and so on and so forth. But I wouldn't be talking to you if I hadn't already tested it and been 100% certainty that it would function."

Peter was skeptical. "How does it even work?"

"Honestly it's a lot of math and science that would take too long to explain, and I doubt you'd even understand most of it," Kim winced, as if processing his own words. "No offense, it's just really complicated. The point is I have it, it works, and I wanna use it with you."

"Alright, let's say I do believe you," he eyed Kim's skinny frame distastefully. "Why would I want to trade bodies with you?"

"Not permanently, I would like to stress that," Kim hastened to say. "The technology operates off of a neural link modifier that, in my simulated studies, struggles to maintain a connection for longer than about a week. This would be strictly temporary."

Peter crossed his arms. "Doesn't answer the why question."

"And that's an excellent question!" Kim nodded. "I can understand why you'd be confused by the prospect of seeking a new body since you're..." Kim's eyes scanned Peter, lingering for a moment too long on his broad shoulders and toned chest. He licked his lips. "You're quite the physical specimen. I, however, am confident enough to say that I am not. You have something that I want and I'm... willing to pay for it. Even temporarily."

"So you'd pay to switch bodies with me?" Peter clarified, dumbfounded. "Temporarily?"

"Exactly!" Kim exclaimed, misreading Peter's confusion for enthusiasm. "It's perfect."

"So you're suggesting that I let you rent my body?" Peter repeated. "Like it's an Airbnb?"

Kim's brow furrowed. “Dude, you rent out your body to girls all the time.”

“Yeah, but usually I’m still the one in it.” Peter stood up, offended. "I'm not interested."

“I’ll give you $10,000 for 24 hours. That’s all.”

Peter stopped. That was… a lot of money. A whole lot of money that he could very much use.

He sank back down into his chair and sat there for a moment, chewing his lips and mulling over his options. Kim leaned back in his chair, a smug expression on his face.

"And this would all be above the board, right?" Peter asked. He couldn't believe he was actually considering doing this, but the money seemed too good to be true. "You're not gonna try to double cross me or run off with my body or something, right?"

Kim chuckled. "As wonderful as it would be to look like you forever, I have built a life with this body that I'm not keen on giving up."

"And I get to set some of my own terms right?" Peter shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Because I don't want you to do anything nasty with my body."

"My lawyers have already drafted up a provisional contract," Kim said smoothly, with the practiced confidence of someone who had closed dozens of business deals before. "You're free to have your own legal counsel look over it and propose revisions."

Peter nodded, although he knew that hiring any sort of lawyer would be out of the question given his financial straits.

“Why me though?" he found himself asking.

Kim smirked. “Let’s just say you were the right combination of willing to talk, desperate enough to swap, and hot enough for it to be worth it.”

Peter frowned, but didn't argue with the fair assessment. “Isn’t this just another expression of late stage capitalism where everything, even our bodies, are becoming commodified?”

“Pretty with a brain, I like it,” Kim shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah probably. But then don’t you want to get in on the ground floor of it?”

Peter's realized that he was out of questions, and his stomach sunk when he realized he had his answer.

"I'll do it," he sighed and rose to his feet, sticking his hand out for a handshake. Kim stood up as well, but paused before he took Peter's hand. A strange expression crossed his face.

“Actually…”

Peter blinked. “What?”

“Before we do this, drop your shorts.” Kim commanded.

Peter did a double take. “What? Why?”

Kim crossed his arms and smiled. “If I’m shelling out this much money I want to see what I’m getting first.”

“Seriously?” Peter asked. Kim’s expression didn’t change, and he glanced down at Peter’s shorts and back up again, quirking one eyebrow. Grimacing, Peter unbuttoned his shorts. He knew what he was packing and had never been ashamed of it, but he also didn’t make a habit of showing it off to strangers. As he let his privacy drop to the floor he prayed that the awkwardness of the situation wouldn’t cause his junk to shrivel up. Every inch counted right now. Kim’s eyes widened when he saw Peter’s manhood, and his mouth practically began to water.

“I’ll throw in an extra thousand.” He finally said, after an uncomfortably long beat of staring. “Congratulations, by the way. You’re… you’re very gifted.”

“Thanks.” Peter mumbled, trying to avoid eye contact. “So the deal’s still on then?”

“Oh the deal is absolutely on.”

“Then can I put my pants back on?”

Kim sighed. “If you must.”

Peter and Kim sat across from each other at a table in Kim's kitchen, a small white bead jam packed with electronics anchored to the back of each one's neck, and Kim pressed a button on his phone. (The device was controlled by an app, of course.) There was a jolt and the two young men went blank, then after a moment the two snapped back to attention as if “rebooting.”

“Holy shit it worked…” Peter said, his hand going to his throat when he heard the sound of Kim’s voice rather than his own.

“Oh my god, this is so cool!” Peter’s body shouted, now under the control of Kim. He leaned back into his chair, stretching the length of Peter’s body as he felt the muscles and sinews of his body pulling. It was a far different experience than that of his own body in ways he had never even considered.

He arched his hips and groaned when he felt his new member pushing into the fabric of his jeans, stretching into what felt like forever. In an instant he was on the feet with his shorts on the floor, freeing his new cock to bob before him in the open air. He gaped like a fish as he stared at his borrowed appendage with awe, and the real Peter yelped in surprise.

“Um, excuse me?” Peter was shocked by the other man’s forwardness. “You’ve been in my body for ten seconds and you’re already hard?”

Kim didn’t say anything in response, he just grinned from ear to ear as he flopped Peter’s increasingly firm erection around.

“Dude, stop acting like an idiot in my body!" Peter's unfamiliar new face flushed red. "It’s a penis, you have one too.”

“Yeah but like, not like this.” Kim exclaimed, popping his hips so his dick bounced as if to emphasize his point. “You’ve had this thing your whole life man so you’re used to it. This is new to me and it’s fucking awesome. How big is this thing, you ever measured it? Doesn’t matter, I can find out later. I’m hung!” He shook his prize.

“No, I’m hung. I’m just letting you borrow it for 24 hours, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure, right, of course.” Kim said, flexing Peter’s muscles. He giggled slightly as he watched his biceps balloon outwards, bouncing them up and down in turn like softballs. “Damn… you work out?”

“Obviously I work out, people don’t just look like that.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“No, they do not.” Kim mumbled as he stared at his abs, rubbing both hands over them to familiarize himself with the ridges. “They most certainly do not.”

“I can’t believe that this is real…” Peter pressed his hands on either side of his body, twisting side to side to observe himself from all angles. “I haven’t been this skinny since I was in middle school.”

“Middle school?” Kim asked, pausing in his examination of his new body to shoot Peter an amused look. “Nice humble brag.”

"Just saying," Peter shrugged. It was surreal to see his real body from the outside, and even more surreal to see him groping himself like a horny idiot. He watched his face light up as Kim's hands found his ass for the first time, and he wasn't sure if he should be feeling violated or flattered.

"Anyways, we've been over the rules," Peter continued. "No drugs, no alterations to my physical appearance, nothing illegal, and no sex."

Kim winced at that last one. "And you're sure about that?" He palmed at his new crotch and grinned. "Because I'd be willing to pay, I didn't realize it would be this good."

Peter deadpanned, unamused. "Yes I'm certain, and I believe we have a contract.

"Alright, alright," Kim waved his hands in defeat, then an impish grin split his face. "Maybe next time. Anyways, you're free to hang here but I'm heading out– the clock’s ticking and I wanna get my money’s worth.”

Kim bounded out of the room on his new, powerful legs, and Peter sighed behind him. He really hoped that this wasn’t a mistake.

#body swap #bodyswap #male body swap #I know people like a picture with the story but I'm bad at finding those so just use your imagination

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