#this is the biggest thing i've posted so far
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welcome to eden
this is a love letter. inspired by this song
As soon as Steve picks up the phone, she knows she’s making a mistake.
“Rob?”
“No,” she says instead of hanging up like she should.
“Nancy?” He sounds more alert now, and she can picture him standing up straighter, calling to attention at the sound of her voice. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“Not really,” she sniffs, hating herself for it. “I—can we talk?”
He’ll say no. He’ll say no, because it’s one in the morning and he was probably asleep before the phone rang and she shouldn’t be asking to talk years after she broke his heart and didn’t even remember—
“Of course,” he says, and Nancy could kick herself. “Over the phone?”
“No. Not over the phone. I’m sorry, it can wait, you can go back to bed.”
She hears him huff a laugh, even though there’s nothing funny about any of it. “I wasn’t in bed,” he assures her. “Am I picking you up?”
Tears spring anew to her eyes. “If that’s okay.”
“Works for me,” he says. “See you soon.”
“See you,” she echoes, and hangs up.
She spends the time it takes pacing quietly in front of the front door, berating herself for using him like this. But she needs to talk to him, and the sooner it’s over with the better.
Headlights cut through the window way too soon, and she nearly throws herself out the door.
She gives him a look when she opens the car door, telling him she knows how many traffic laws he must have broken to get here this quick. He just grins in return, ready to point out the felony in her closet.
“Where are we going?” He asks, and her heart clenches. He’s so good. He’s so good, and she couldn’t-can’t love him like he wants. She has to tell him.
Tonight probably wasn’t the best night for this conversation, but her skin feels like it’s peeling off and the faster she says something the quicker it will be over with and she can go back to how it was before. Back when she didn’t have anyone to talk to, because Robin might never speak to her again after she breaks her best friend's heart for the second time.
Just rip the bandaid off, Nance.
“I don’t know,” she says instead. Maybe she’s a coward. “A field? Somewhere I can see the stars.”
“I can do that.”
The drive goes by in silence, Nancy staring stubbornly out the window. She can feel Steve periodically checking on her, and she knows he wants to know why she called. She can’t open her mouth to say it in the suffocating enclosure of the car. She rolls down a window.
They get to a field almost out of Hawkins, and the car is barely in park before she’s climbing out, going around to sit on the hood. Steve cuts the engine and follows.
She still doesn’t say anything. She called him to have a talk, why can’t she just open her stupid mouth—
“Nancy?” Steve asks, gentle in a way that used to make her melt. She pulls her legs to her chest, feeling vulnerable. “What’s wrong?”
“Jonathan and I broke up,” she finally gets out.
“Oh shit.” He looks genuinely surprised. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, it was never going to be forever.” Except she’d thought otherwise. She thought they were Nancy and Jonathan, the two of them against the world. She hunches her shoulders. “We never talk anymore, and he was pulling away from me, and he was lying to me for months-“ she shakes her head, clearing the anger she feels at that. “It doesn’t matter. I’m starting to realize there’s things I need to work on, too. A lot to work on, actually.”
“I don’t know what that could be,” he says, flashing her a smile filled with boyish, roguish charm. “You’re already the best person I know.”
She sniffs, and suddenly she’s crying into her knees, shoulders shaking. He freezes beside her, before wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. She leans in for a second, chasing the comfort, before remembering what she came here to do and ripping away violently.
“Fuck,” she whispers. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t—I can’t—this isn’t what I—“
“Hey,” he soothes. “Slow down. Let it out.”
She wipes her eyes, suddenly furious. “I don’t want to date you,” she says, finally looking him in the eyes. “I don’t—I’m sorry for calling you. I just remembered how much better you used to make me feel, but then I realized that’s like…really shitty of me.”
“Why?” He asks, as if Nancy didn’t come out here to break his heart again. “I want to make you feel better. I like knowing I can make you feel better.”
“I don’t want to lead you on,” she says, mouth screwing up. “That’s why I called you out here. And I know it’s shitty of me—“
“Nancy, you’re not leading me on. I…I don’t want to date you either.”
That stops her in her tracks. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh,” he echoes quietly. “I—don’t take this the wrong way, okay, ‘cause I know I’m gonna sound like an asshole saying it, but, uh, I can’t do that again. And even outside of that, I don’t like you that way anymore. Uh, sorry.”
She tries not to sag at the overwhelming relief she feels at that.
“Are you sure?” She studies him closely, trying to see if he’s saying this for her sake or if he means it. “Back in the Upside-Down, and when we were fighting Venca, it seemed…”
He grimaces, and Nancy thinks if it wasn’t dark she’d see the beginning of an embarrassed flush on his ears. “I…may have been feeling things,” he admits. “I was testing the waters, I guess. I started feeling nostalgic, and you were there, and everyone was encouraging me, and it all just ended up in this weird…feelings soup. Sorry.”
“You said you wanted to have six kids with me,” Nancy reminds him. “And travel the country in a Winnebago.”
He groans, covering his face with his hands. “I am,” he says, “so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. That had to be so weird for you.”
“It was kind of sweet?” She tries, not letting her relief show. Not yet.
“We haven’t been together in years, and I decided to tell you I used to dream about you having my babies. How do you deal with me?”
“Well it helps to know you were dropped on your head. Puts everything in perspective.”
“Yeah, yeah, yuk it up.” He looks at her, really looks at her, and she tries not to fidget under his gaze. Too earnest, too caring for someone who doesn’t deserve it. He’s always tried so hard. To woo her, to be a better person, to keep back the vicious streak she still sees in him. “I meant it, when I said I loved you,” he tells her gently, no sign of that cruelty that had him painting her as a whore for the whole town to see. “Back then, I mean. I just wanted you to know that.”
She wants to cry. “I know. I’m sorry I couldn’t say it back.”
“It’s okay,” he says like he means it. He leans back against the windshield, looking at the sky. After a moment, she copies him.
They watch the stars together, and the air feels clearer.
“Where do we go from here?” She asks, afraid of the answer.
“What do you mean?”
“What happens with us now?”
“Well,” he says gingerly, like he’s testing the waters. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend.”
Friends. She doesn’t know that she and Steve have ever been friends, not properly. Even after the apologies they made to each other, she doesn’t know that she could call what they had friendship. It wasn’t substantial on its own, needing Jonathan as the barrier between them. When it fell, so did they.
“I haven’t had a friend in a while,” she admits. “Robin is kind of a novelty for me. She’s amazing.”
It’s funny, in a way. She was so jealous of Robin, of how close she was with Steve in a way Nancy wasn’t. She’d thought, at first, that it was because they were so clearly dating. After Robin told her they weren’t, she realized how badly she’d just wanted friends. She missed hanging out with Steve, missed his laugh and his squint and his bitchy attitude. She’d hoped that eventually they’d get to that point, was sure they were almost there before Starcourt. In a way, she’d been jealous of Robin for stealing Steve. She knew it was ridiculous. Steve had found a friend, a real friend who hadn’t cheated on him or slept with his girlfriend. She couldn’t begrudge him that.
She just missed him.
“She is, isn’t she?” Steve grins, but sobers up quickly. “I didn’t really think about that. How lonely you must be, since…”
She’s already shaking her head. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t reach out.”
“I didn’t exactly reach out either.”
They fall silent again, at a loss for words. Barb’s death, as always, the canyon between them.
Finally Nancy huffs. “It’s both of our faults,” she declares, “or neither of our faults. I don’t know. I just missed you.”
“Well shit, Nance, I missed you too,” he says, touched.
“I’ve heard you’re a pretty kickass friend too, you know,” she says, glancing at him. He smiles.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Nancy Wheeler, I would be honored to be friends with you,” he says, and sticks out his hand to shake, like they’re meeting for the first time.
She stares at him, and starts laughing. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
She shakes his hand.
Max has always felt like a mirror. One Nancy wanted to smash, pull her out of the shards of her reflective grief and hug. Stroke her hair the way she wanted someone to do for her and say you’ll get through this. So Max could hear it from someone who knows.
Except Nancy doesn’t know anything. Still drowns in her guilt, the ball and chain dragging her into the depths. She can’t help when she’s still such a mess, three years later.
Her hands clench when Mike says Max is pulling away from Lucas. She wishes she could look her in the eye and tell her you don’t have to be me. You can be better.
She’s Mike’s friend. They barely know each other outside of a quick hello as they cross paths or fighting monsters. Max has enough on her plate, she doesn’t need her friend’s weird older sister butting in to tell her how to mourn the right way.
Nancy just hopes she’s getting out of bed. Remembering to eat. Brushing her teeth. She had more cavities in the year after Barb died than she’d ever had in her life, and she knows Max doesn’t have insurance.
Now, sitting next to Max’s hospital bed, Nancy wishes she’d reached out.
With school back comes studying, and with studying comes Eddie Munson, in all his super-senior glory. Nancy is going to get him a diploma if it kills her.
He laughs when she tells him so. “Shit, Wheeler,” he says. “The day something manages to get you is the day this shithole goes down for good.”
Robin turns down her offer to form a study group. “I’m pretty sure if I joined, I’d just distract Eddie, and let him distract me, and we’d end up throwing things at each other until you killed us. Sorry. Steve’s going to help me study for finals, though!”
She looks at Steve, eyebrow raised. She’s pretty sure it’s fair to be dubious, since she was the reason Steve passed his finals in the first place.
“I’m her rubber duck,” he says as an explanation, and she nods in understanding.
Her mom isn’t about to let her study alone with a boy in her room, though, and especially not a boy like Eddie, so she drags him to the library three times a week. He complains, he bitches, he tells her he doesn’t care about his fucking history class anymore. She just hands him a Rubik’s Cube she found to keep his hands busy as she quizzes him.
Three sessions in, he slowly puts a worksheet down and screams into his hands.
“Stop that!” She kicks him in the shin. “If you get me kicked out of the library I’m never forgiving you.”
“I can’t do it,” he says, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m so fucking stupid, Nancy. I can’t even get past question two. Is this torture? Did I die and go to hell? That would be fitting, wouldn’t it? Doomed to repeat high school for the rest of eternity?”
“Stupid” her ass. She knows what kind of work goes into those campaigns of his, has absently flipped through his annotated fantasy novels and left feeling as if she’d seen the story anew. Plus, she went and made a tape of everyone’s favorite songs, just in case, and she knew damn well how quickly he’d taught himself to play the song he did in the Upside-Down. “Stupid” and “Eddie Munson” don’t belong in the same sentence, much less belong in the same space in his brain. She hates Hawkins High just a little bit more for it. “Stop being dramatic. What are you stuck on?”
“Fucking nothing! I can’t focus, it’s driving me fucking insane. I keep trying, I swear, but it’s like I can’t even read anymore! This always happens, I swear to God it’s killing me more than the fucking demobats ever did.”
“Don’t joke about that,” she snaps. “You’re smart, Eddie, you know that. You just need to try.”
His face twists, and she realizes that was the wrong thing to say.
“Oh, thank you, Miss Wheeler, why haven’t I thought of that? Sorry for wasting your time, I’ll get out of your perfect hair now—“
“Sit down,” she protests as he gathers up his stuff. “Eddie, I’ll help you work through the problem, okay? Just sit down, please.”
“No, Nancy!” He swings around, eyes wild. “It’s what everyone always says. Just sit still, stop doodling, be quiet, pay attention, try fucking harder…I tried, okay! I’ve been trying, I tried for fifteen fucking years, and I can’t do it! I might as well just drop out and get it over with. I’m fucking sick of this.”
“Okay!” She feels herself getting riled up. “You want to fail so bad, fine! I’m not your keeper, do whatever you want.”
“I will!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
They stare at each other, not moving. Finally Eddie storms off in a huff, flinging open the library door in a grand gesture she pretends not to see. There’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, but she can ignore it.
She pretends not to notice when he comes slinking back five minutes later, shuffling his feet.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” She asks primly, going over her notes.
“Nancy, please.”
She sighs. “I’m sorry too. I’m just…frustrated.”
“I’ve been told I’m pretty frustrating,” he offers.
“It’s not…”
“It is,” he says, sitting down. “It’s okay. God knows I piss myself off with this shit.”
She studies him, looking over his defeated face like he’s one of her flashcards. “You’re trying your best,” she says, sounding it out. She can’t really make sense of it. After all, trying her best has always been straight A’s, not stopping until she knew everything she needed to and more.
“It’s not good enough.”
“It will be,” she says. “You’ve got me this time.”
“Listen, I know you’re trying to help—“
“Do you want fries?”
“What?” He blinks at her, shocked, as she starts packing up her things.
“We’re not getting anywhere today. Sometimes you have to step back, and come back with a clearer head.” Usually she locks her door and cleans her guns, the repetitive motion soothing her mind until she can think again, but she has a feeling that won’t work for Eddie.
“I usually just give up.”
“I don’t. Get your backpack, we’re going to the diner. Dinner’s on me tonight.”
At the diner, he makes her laugh so hard soda comes out her nose. The next day, they go to the library again.
After a couple of days, he solves the cube. After three weeks, he nearly kicks her door down rushing to show her the B he got on a test.
Two months later, he throws his cap into the air and his cane on the ground. Swings her around, both of them laughing.
“Nancy fucking Wheeler!” He crows. “Achieving the impossible yet again!”
“Eddie, put me down!” She shrieks gleefully as he stumbles. She barely makes it back to solid ground before two more bodies are slamming into them, Steve and Robin whooping in their ears.
It was weird, to see Steve and Robin effortlessly communicate the way she and Jonathan always had and have it be so unabashedly unromantic. She’d always thought that knowing someone like that was a sign you were meant to be, and they did it while still loudly proclaiming Platonic with a capital P.
She and Jonathan didn’t do it much anymore. It was like dancing to a song that was always a beat off, syncing for just one moment before stumbling again, unsure that they were still allowed this.
She’d known him better than anyone, once, and he’d known her the same. Now she wonders if that was ever true.
“So,” Eddie says, throwing himself onto her bed. “Steve.”
She sits in her desk chair, raising an eyebrow. “What about him?”
“You broke up with Jonathan, right? Are you going to get back with him? I thought you would, but it's been months and neither of you said anything.”
“No,” she says. “No, that’s not what I want. It’s not what either of us want.”
“Really?” He rolls over, eyes searching. “What happened there, anyway? With both your boys. I’m a nosy little asshole, and I wanna hear it from you.”
It makes her laugh, the way he admits to it so freely. He grins wolfishly at her, baring his teeth in a grin. That’s probably why she tells him the truth.
“I wasn’t okay, when I was with Steve,” she says honestly. “I was distant, grieving…I was a mess, and I stayed with him because I didn’t know what else to do. With Jonathan…I was getting closure, I was healing, and things were good between us. They were so good, but after a while, we just started to…deteriorate. I don’t know if we lost momentum, or if the stress just got to us, but we started fighting more and more,” She traces the desk with a finger, remembering the sour taste of Oliver Twist on her tongue. It was a shitty thing to say. “I thought we’d figured it out, for a little while, but then we just…stopped talking. I think, maybe if we’d talked more, we could have worked it out. But I’m…not upset that we didn’t, you know?”
It’s a different kind of loneliness when your partner won’t talk to you. It was different than grieving, different than not having anyone to talk to at all. Because even when she didn’t have friends, she had Jonathan. And then, slowly, she didn’t anymore.
“Nancy, you’re one of my best friends, so-”
“Steve is your best friend.”
“Steve is my best best friend,” she agrees. “But he’s also more than that? Like, I think we’re literally soulmates. Platonic with a capital P soulmates, but, like, it feels like more than friendship sometimes? Like sometimes it’s like he can literally feel my bad days even when I haven’t talked to him yet. He told me once he just knows sometimes. It’s like I hit my hip on my desk and he felt it, but emotionally. It’s wild. It’s like the drugs literally combined our minds. Where was I going with this?”
“I don’t know,” she says, slightly bewildered. She wants to ask how they do that, but Robin barrels forward.
“Right. So outside of mine and Steve’s platonic more-than-friendship, you’re kind of my best friend? And you’re, like, the coolest person I know.”
She blinks. She’s not sure she’s ever been described as cool before.
After Barb, Nancy tried to cut her own hair.
Her mom found her in the bathroom, unshed tears in her eyes and hair a mess on the sink and floor.
She hadn’t laughed, hadn't said oh, honey, your beautiful hair. Just clucked her tongue and took the scissors from her hands. Stepped behind her and took over, took the uneven mess and made it something good, something presentable.
She didn’t say anything until she was done, setting the scissors on the counter. “Sometimes,” she said, wetting her lips. “Sometimes we need a change, before we can move forward.”
The closer she gets to Emerson, the more she feels like she’s letting someone down. Mike. Max. Jonathan. All the people who have relied on her, all the people who trusted her to fight.
In a strange turn of events, her mom is the only one she doesn’t feel is disappointed in her. Her mom is more excited about college than she is sometimes. Chattering excitedly over dishes about the classes she’s going to take as Nancy dries and smiles and tries not to feel like the ground is being pulled from under her feet.
This is everything she’s ever wanted. Why does it feel so wrong?
She takes Eddie to the gun range, because having a gun in her hands has always made her feel safer. More in control. More like the badass protector she wants to be, than the scared little girl she feels sometimes.
Eddie stares down the scope of the gun and shoots like he has experience, but doesn’t hit a single bullseye.
“Your hands are shaking.”
“I’m in a fucking gun range and a bunch of small town hicks were hunting me not too long ago,” he snaps, taking another shot and missing the target completely. He swears and changes the magazine. “Excuse me if I’m a little bit on edge.”
She hadn’t really thought of it like that. “You didn’t have to come,” she says. “I just thought with everything that’s happened, you should know how to use one. Just in case.”
“I know how to use a gun,” he rolls his eyes.
“You know how to shoot one.” She looks from him to the target pointedly. “Not the same thing.”
“Deep. I could really feel the judgement there. Tell me, is there anything else wrong with me?”
“There’s security cameras all over this place. We’re not in Hawkins, so there’s no mob coming after you. I’m here, and I do know how to use a gun. No one is going to hurt you here.”
“I know all that.”
“Do you?”
He scowls at her. She looks back unflinchingly. She’s been here plenty of times, and the guys laughed at her until they didn’t anymore. By the time she brought Eddie, all she got was a raised eyebrow and a “boyfriend?” from Hunter at the desk. She didn’t know what was more incriminating, so she just shrugged.
“You’re kind of a pain in the ass, you know that?”
She rolls her eyes, taking the gun from his hands and lining up a shot. “I’ve heard worse,” she says, thinking about Nancy Dre-ew, and Nancy “the slut” Wheeler, and priss, and shoots. It hits the bullseye.
So do her next five shots.
Eddie looks begrudgingly impressed when she reloads and hands the gun back to him. It’s more satisfying than it should be, to realize that while he’d known she had guns he’s never seen her actually shoot before.
She raises a challenging eyebrow at him, and he huffs around a smile. “All right, all right,” he says good naturedly. “Let’s try this again.”
He does a little better this time around, now that he’s actually trying. He does a little dance when he hits one of the inner rings.
“Take that!” He crows. “I bet Steve couldn’t do this. In your face, Harrington!”
“He’s much more of a close-combat kind of guy, isn’t he?” Nancy agrees.
“Oh, yeah, definitely,” he says. “Does he really have a bat with nails?”
She blinks, caught off guard by the fact that Eddie hadn’t seen it. She never registered that he hadn’t used it during Vecna. Something about the fact seems weird somehow, as if it was as integral to Steve as his coiffed hair. “He keeps it in his trunk.”
“You and Byers need to update your Steve manuals. He said it’s under his bed now.”
“Ah,” Nancy says, thinking of all the times she’s slept with her pistol under her pillow. Empty, because she’s not stupid enough to sleep with a loaded gun when her little brother sometimes wakes her up after a nightmare, but the comforting weight of it alone makes it easier.
“Just tell me one thing,” he says, widening his eyes imploringly at her. “Did he look as sexy as I think he did? Byers won’t give me a straight answer.”
It’s a joke, but his cheeks are a little pink. She’s not dumb, she’s seen the looks the two of them share, as if he and Steve were circling each other. Caught in a whirlpool, waiting for the moment the vortex would drag them down and they could finally touch.
The looks between Eddie and Jonathan, too, that share a certain camaraderie she doesn’t entirely understand and at the same time understands all too well. Steve and Jonathan had always had a strange relationship, too close to not be friendship but not quite there. Surprisingly enough it was better after she and Steve broke up, Jonathan no longer avoiding them and the talk she’d forced the three of them into clearing the air. Sometimes, she’d wake up to Jonathan climbing into her bed, smelling of cigarettes and a hint of something stronger, and he’d tell her it was Steve who drove him there.
She’s a journalist. It’s her job to notice things. She just wasn’t ready to confront that reality, where the two boys she’d wanted wanted each other as well. But she’s grown since then.
She also knows that whoever Steve chooses, it won’t be easy.
“You know,” she says, considering, “when we were dating, Steve never pressed me up against the wall or anything you’d expect from the King.”
Eddie gets this look on his face, caught between confusion and caught out. “…okay? Did you want him to do that or something? Are you trying to ask me to hint to him?”
“No,” she says. “I’m just saying, he never did any of that. It was kind of funny. He always made it so that he was the one pressed against the wall.”
Eddie misses the next five shots entirely, and she laughs at him through it all.
She’s hyper aware of touching other girls now. She didn’t used to be. Even with Robin, who is a lesbian and definitely won’t hate her. Who’s probably gone through the same thing. She can’t help it.
What if they get the wrong idea? What if someone else sees? What if they can tell, what if they know, what if they hate me?
She hates feeling like this. She doesn’t know why it started, doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. She’s no stranger to casual affection—or at least she didn’t used to be. Why does it make her feel so tense now? It’s been years since she realized she liked girls, shouldn’t this have happened back then?
Deep down, she knows why. The Reagan sign in her front yard. Her dad sitting in his chair, the news always on. “Always that nasty disease, Karen, I swear some people are just asking for it.” She’s always known she could never tell him, but now she knows that if she gets sick he’ll say she deserves it. She doesn’t know what her mother thinks. She’s afraid to find out.
She’s growing up, and her fear is growing with her.
Objectively, Nancy knows she and Eddie don’t make sense.
They’re not cut from the same cloth, like Steve and Robin. They don’t calm each other down, like Jonathan and Argyle. They’re too different, too alike in all the wrong ways, for them to get along. They’re both snappy, a little mean. Eddie’s dramatic enough to get on her nerves, and she’s prim enough to get on his. At their worst, they have earth shattering arguments that end in them not speaking to each other for days.
When people see them walking down the street together, they whisper about “that nice girl Nancy Wheeler” and “that awful Munson boy.”
It’s not fair, never has been. Nancy hasn’t felt nice for a long time, maybe before Barb ever disappeared. Eddie isn’t always particularly nice either, but the court of public opinion takes it to extremes, twists him into something cruel instead of the kindness he carries under his leather armor. Someone to keep their children away from. It really is a shame, because Eddie loves kids in a way Nancy never has. She can see it in the way he interacts with them, his bright smile fading when a parent comes to drag them away. Even when he’s expecting it, his face falls, just for an instant, before spinning around with a grin that won’t reach his eyes.
Nancy wants to take him out of here. There’s an offer on the tip of her tongue that she knows he’d refuse.
He’s not her brother, but he’s not…unlike one. It’s almost like talking to an older, flashier Mike. He’s annoying, is what he is. He picks at her, keeps pressing over the littlest things. Tries to get under her skin, succeeds, until she’s on the verge of stabbing him with her pencil. Looks triumphant whenever Robin has to grab her arm to drag her away, rambling an excuse about “some girl thing I totally forgot, yeah it’s an emergency,” while Steve drags him the other way to have bro time.
“She loves it,” she’d heard Eddie crow delightedly once, when Robin didn’t get her out of hearing range fast enough. “Do you see that fire in her eyes?”
“Do I?” She asked Robin. “Love it?”
“I mean, far be it from me to tell you what you do and don’t like,” Robin answered. “But, uh, as far as I can tell, you totally love it. You look like you’re going to rip him to pieces and enjoy it, and he loves that. I didn’t think you’d be this much of a nightmare together, seriously, like, how are you two at each other’s throats one second and then best friends the next? Steve and I have debated locking you in a bathroom until you get along, but we’re kind of afraid you’ll kill each other.”
So no, Nancy and Eddie don’t get along. They’re kind of a nightmare together. They don’t make sense, and they don’t try to. They have other friends, who they get along with better, that they can seek out.
But when Eddie knocks on her window, the only surprise is that he could even get there.
“How?” She hisses, opening the window. He tumbles in, doesn’t even try to play off the utter gracelessness he’s displaying.
“Wowie, I am never doing that again,” he breathes, flat on his back. “You’re going to have to help me down the stairs when I leave, had to leave my cane at the bottom and I cannot get back down that way.”
She doesn’t even want to know what he had to do to get up on her roof with his bad leg. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m but another lover, nothing but an ant in the face of your unwavering beauty, my queen,” he says, batting his eyes at her. The dramatics don’t hit the way he intends, given that he’s stuck on the floor. He holds a hand out pleadingly, and she rolls her eyes, hauling him up until she can get him to her bed.
“Never mind.” She puts her hands on her hips, a gesture that is so obviously Steve she removes them immediately. From the glint in Eddie’s eyes, he notices.
She tries not to be jealous. She tries, she swears, but…
Three of the four (five? she doesn’t know what Argyle thinks of her) friends she has are dating each other. Two of them dated her, first. She can’t help but wonder, if she’d known that was an option, if everything would have been different. If she wouldn’t have this aching bitterness between her teeth.
(Nothing would have changed, she knows. She’d been too desperate for other things. Trying so hard with Steve so her best friend didn’t die for nothing. Staying with Jonathan because he understood her more than anyone else, so maybe they didn’t need to talk. It wouldn’t have helped anything. She still wonders.)
It doesn’t matter. What’s past is past, and she needs to move forward. She can’t stop to think about could-have-beens, because thinking about boys is what got her into this mess in the first place.
She closes her eyes, taking a shaky breath. That’s not fair. None of this is fair. None of it is fucking fair because Nancy stopped caring about fair when Barb died.
She needs a drink. She needs a nap. She needs to stop feeling like Atlas with the world on her shoulders.
She doesn’t do any of that. She calls Robin.
“Barb was my first kiss.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Nancy says, and keeps talking, because Barb is dead and Robin is a lesbian and she’s long forgotten what Barb’s favorite chapstick was back then. “We were seven, and I liked it but I didn’t know if I liked her. But I was convinced I was going to marry her, until my mom told me that girls don’t marry other girls. And I knew she liked girls when she died. She told me when we were fifteen, and I didn’t know the word bisexual but I knew I loved her and that was all that mattered. Not—not like that, not romantic, or maybe it was but it doesn’t matter because she was my best friend and I still love her but she’s gone forever. I loved her.”
She feels Robin lay a tentative hand on her back.
“I had to look her parents in the eye and pretend. All those fucking NDA’s, I had to pretend there was hope. Pretend she was still missing. It was like everyone forgot about her except for me and them, and they sold their house to find their dead daughter and I wasn’t supposed to say anything and Steve kept reminding me about the fucking NDA’s—“
“Nancy…”
“It’s my fault,” Nancy says, staring at the water. “I lumped in Steve, because it was easier than being alone. He didn’t know her like I did. She was worried about me. She stayed because she cared, and look where that got her.”
“That’s bullshit!” Robin’s eyes are wide, and she waves her hands around as she talks. “If it’s anyones fault, it’s those—those scientist guys experimenting on El! They knew there was a problem, and they tried to cover it up instead of making sure people were safe. You didn’t know it was dangerous. How were you supposed to know it was going to end up as anything other than normal teenage drama? None of this is supposed to be real, you didn’t know—“
“But I left her,” Nancy cuts in. “I left her alone to go lose my virginity to a boy she didn’t even like—“
“He was your boyfriend, it shouldn’t have mattered if she liked him—“
“It doesn’t matter!” Nancy shouts, and Robin falls silent, mouth still moving. “It doesn’t fucking matter how it happened, because it did and now she’s dead and she’s never coming back and it’s all my fault.”
Nancy is sick of crying. Sick of feeling helpless. Sick of not being able to change the past.
“It’s not just Barb. I took Fred to the trailer park—he didn’t even want to be there, and now he’s dead. Eddie needs a cane, Max is almost completely blind and might never walk again and it was my plan that put them there. My plan that almost killed them. I’m responsible—“
“Fuck that.”
“Robin…”
“No, you listen to me, Nancy Wheeler,” Robin says, grabbing her by the shoulders. “You are one of the most remarkable people I have ever known. Max would have died without that plan. We all would have died. Venca-slash-Henry-slash-One would have won without that plan, and I am not going to sit here and listen to you blame yourself for saving lives. And-and Fred! Venca had already marked him, you know that. You couldn’t have done anything! And Barb is not your fault, okay? I-I-I know I can’t convince you, but I’ll say it as many times as it takes until you start believing it, because it’s true. You didn’t kill her. You didn’t kill anyone.”
“I killed Bruce,” she says, just to prove Robin wrong. And isn’t that shitty of her, to forget about him until she can use him to prove a point? She’s a fucking awful person.
“I don’t know who Bruce is, but given your track record I highly doubt that.”
“I bashed his head in with a fire extinguisher.”
Robin pauses, and Nancy’s stomach sinks. This is it, she thinks. This is what will convince her, this is what will make her see that I’m wrong, that I’m poison-
“What was he doing?”
“What?”
“Bruce. You had to have a reason for it. What was he doing?”
It’s like Robin doesn’t even care that Nancy just admitted to first degree murder. “He was flayed,” she admits, knowing Robin will take it as proof that she’s right.
“That’s not murder, that’s self defense,” Robin says, just like she knew she would. “Also, if he was flayed he was already dead. Sorry, I’m sticking to your side on this.”
“But I’m less torn up about killing my asshole coworker than I am about anything else. How does that not make me a monster?”
“He was already dead, Nancy!” Robin shakes her. “You’re not beating yourself up over it because you know he was already dead, a-a-and I know you’re using him to try and push me away and I won’t let you.”
“Robin…” she says, tears springing to her eyes. She’s so fucking sick of crying. So sick of the way she never seems to stop anymore.
“Nancy,” Robin says. “None of us are going to leave you. Stop trying to make us.”
She pulls her into a hug, and Nancy sags into it, boneless.
There, sandwiched between the sky and the water, Nancy starts to feel like she could forgive herself.
“Nancy,” Steve says, putting a hand on her shoulder and ducking his chin to look her in the eye. “They won’t be alone.”
Tears well up, unbidden, at the way he seems to understand her now in a way he never did before.
“I want this,” she insists.
“I know you do,” he says. “Which is why you’re going to go out there, kick ass, and take names. We’ll be here, okay? We’ll keep an eye on them.”
“I know you will.” She swipes a hand across her eyes. “Can you talk to Holly, too? She gets lonely.”
Steve smiles. He’d always loved Holly, when they were dating. He used to braid her hair sometimes. Asked her about her drawings, her TV shows, listened to her talk with the same attentiveness Nancy’s father had never shown any of them. He’ll be a good dad, someday. To someone else’s children.
“I’ll talk to Holly,” he promises. “Does she still like princesses?”
“Ladybugs,” she says. “It’s ladybugs, now.”
“Ladybugs. I can do that. Black and red, and they’re all ladies. What’s not to like?”
“There are male ladybugs.”
“Wait, seriously?”
She laughs, tearfully, but they’re happy tears. Steve wipes them away gently, and she smiles at him to let him know she’s okay. “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”
“You’re the best person I know, Nancy Wheeler,” he replies, achingly sincere. “You’re gonna have the whole world under your thumb, I just know it. Ever thought of running for President?”
“Can’t be worse than the one we have now,” she says, grimaces as her own joke lands too bitterly to be funny. She sees his jaw tighten before he forces himself to relax.
“I’d vote for you.”
She grins at him, sharp to punch through the tension she’d made. “I’ll make Eddie my Vice President.”
“Oh, fuck no. You lost me,” he says, and Eddie makes an offended noise from where he’s stealing snacks from the glovebox. Jonathan swats him, and she smiles at him too. He smiles back, tentatively, and wanders to her side.
“You gonna be okay up there?” He asks quietly. She can hear the guilt in it, still, and she reaches down to squeeze his hand. The one with the scar that matches hers, so their palms line up. It feels full circle, somehow, the three of them together like this.
“I’ll be okay,” she confirms, and feels the truth of it in her chest. Her boys are here with her, the ones who have been there since the beginning. Eddie’s watching them fondly, munching on a granola bar. Robin is inside somewhere, rambling at her mother. Mike and Holly are probably still bickering over the last cupcake. She loves them so much, all of them.
“Of course you will,” Steve says. “You’re Nancy fuckin’ Wheeler. Nothing stops you.”
She wants that to be true. She can feel in her bones that it will be. Eighteen has nothing on who she’ll be at thirty.
She’s Nancy Wheeler, and the world won’t see her coming.
#welcome to eden au#stranger things fanfic#nancy wheeler#eddie munson#steve harrington#robin buckley#jonathan byers#this is the biggest thing i've posted so far#i ran out of the little fics i'm gonna have to start figuring out how to format the big ones#there's background steve/eddie/jonathan bc this was originally a companion piece to a seperate fic about them#that was 22k before i lost interest#i'll post that one eventually#can you tell nancy is my favorite character. i love u miss survivors guilt <3#sometimes i think about how nancy has no friends for p much three seasons after barb died and i get very upset#jonathan could count but he also wanted to date her so i'm not counting it#I JUST WANT HER TO HAVE FRIENDS#i also love nancy/eddie friendship they're both judgy bitches#so is steve frankly. nightmare trio#i'm gonna write that ot3 one day (don't hold me to that)
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guy whose childhood drags behind him like a dead body
#river dipping#simblr#ts4#ts4 edit#theodore doe#echthroi#i forgot to post this after sharing theo's birthday edit last night... listen i was so tired i just hit post and passed out#but so far today i've just been looking through character page themes for a bit and messing around with codes while watching dropout tv#i still need to get to my activity feed sometime today or tomorrow and then i want to set aside some time to just hang out on here#and catch up on things like i keep disappearing and missing out on posts jgkhjfnkh so i gotta do that...#but i'm actually fighting off the world's biggest nap rn..... my meds work really well but lord i'm still so tired all the time woof#so i'll probably end up caving soon lmao#but!!! anyway!! THEO!!! there was nothing i could do abt the proportions on theo as a kid like i couldn't make his head any smaller...#the sims team actually hate me so bad and are trying to force the huge cartoonishly big heads onto my sims </3#also when i aged him down to a kid like all of his presets were gone so i just had to try and replicate them to the best of my abilities#his lip preset actually has a much deeper cupid's bow but thanks to the liquify tool <33333 it looks like his regular preset#i've actually posted teen theo on here before but i've made a ton of changes to him since then so this version is pretty different compared#to the older version of him at sixteen#he's definitely got more baby fat than he did before like his cheeks are pretty round#um. also i have these closeups i took of adult theo from the pose i made for his birthday edit that i gotta edit a lil and then post!!!#bc you really didn't get to see his expression or the actual pose that well and EYEEEE personally am really in love with the details#of the pose itself like ugh.......... theo is so.......................... yeah.#holds him
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I feel so weird when people on this site are nice to me because I tend to feel like I'm not worthy of it if I'm simply existing. Like, no one should be nice to me if I'm not talented - if I can't write fic or draw or something. And it's like, the dumbest brain thing? Why on earth would that be the case? I don't feel that way about people, so why would they feel that way about me? And if they do feel that way, why would I want to be around them? Like what the fuck? Brain, please.
#to clarify - I'm not actually upset rn#these are really intrusive thoughts that I deal with a lot BUT#I'm in a place where I can say it without being upset so I'm gonna#just while I have the opportunity lol#that's the biggest reason I struggle with my tagging system; like I've mentioned before#and I know it holds me back!#but I do still sometimes feel weird when like two really talented friends are reblogging each others' art and pointing out technical things#and I am clapping like a seal on the sidelines#anyway hi good morning I had 4 hours of sleep#but I swear I'm not sad don't worry#I do think it's sad that this is really common as far as I can tell#and if I'm feeling it as someone who doesn't really make things - what is it like for authors and artists??#I feel so bad for y'all. not to be all 'we live in a society' lol#but society has really placed a big burden on y'all#what is this post even saying now?? I've lost the plot lol#viper pls
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The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.
I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.
And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!
We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.
There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.
Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.
Except...
I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.
I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.
The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.
Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".
There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.
And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.
His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.
I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.
That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.
I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.
Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.
Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.
If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.
It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.
I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.
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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.
(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)
it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it
...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..
Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.
I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.
(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")
“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.
“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”
The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.
I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?
I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.
Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.
Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.
So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.
Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!
Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol
What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.
I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.
Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.
Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.
How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’
i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.
I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.
I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”
….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.
No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.
If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.
His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.
We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.
Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.
You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.
The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.
And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.
You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.
Give a heads up.
Something.
But don’t. kill. the media.
The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.
Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.
I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.
It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.
Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.
If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.
And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.
Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.
the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.
The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.
Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.
Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.
If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.
•
Muting notifs
#artists on tumblr#Artistic#digital art#art history#anthropology#humanity#art discussion#art theory#skit yells
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I want to make a post about the situation in Sweden so that people know what's going on. I know everyone is talking about the queen dying and how that will destroy the UK financially and the like, and it was 9/11, but.
https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/sep/11/swedish-election-exit-polls-far-right
The election here was yesterday and the preliminary results indicate that our second biggest party, SverigeDemokraterna, one rooted in nazism and fascism, will have a lot of influence over the country the next 4 years. They're one of Europe's biggest extreme right parties and the biggest in the world to be nazis through and through.
Things are going to be hell for racial minorities, immigrants, refugees, disabled folks, Muslims, Jews, the LGBTQ+ (especially trans), women and people/families with low income.
I'm not going to lie, I'm terrified. I'm exhausted. I've stayed up well past midnight on weekdays trying to get people to vote left and to make as much noise and make it known what the conservatives are doing to us and to get more engaged politically.
But I'm working against the grain here, what with our newstations and general media gave SverigeDemokraterna so much attention (positive and negative). Plus, the other traditionally conservative parties also rallied HARD for them, to the point that they got bigger than them.
This won't mean I'll give up and cower, I can't afford that. But it means that things are terrifying for those of us who are especially racial minorities. Because the nazis will get inspired by the results to get more active out there and cause so much damage.
Sweden has excellent PR. You wouldn't know these things because they make sure to seem like a small and peaceful country that is the posterchild for equality. But it's far from it. And It's only going downhill from here. I could list all of the truly heinous things that have been going on here the past few years but we would be here forever.
What I want to say though, is that Sweden has a truly revolting racism problem. Maybe not to the extent of the US, but it's not good. We were the forefathers of race biology after all. And that has ultimately paved the road for this election result.
If you see this, please reblog and share. More people deserve to know the truth about the state of this country.
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tour guide 🎥
pairing: charles leclerc/fem!actress!reader
type: instagram imagine, social media au
notes: saw the post abt apex filming at silverstone this week and got this idea lol lmk what u guys think! atp you already know who my fc is (it's hailee steinfeld 😝)
about: a well-known actress stars in a film that is set in the world of formula 1 and scuderia ferrari happens to be the leading team to guide the production team and its cast!
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, madelyncline, and 1,249,247 others
yourusername Film prep starts now. Currently glad my parents forced me into getting my driver's license as early as I could as well as my brother introducing me to Formula 1 years ago 🏁
Beyond excited for this movie!
allhailyn WE LOVE U QUEEN WE CANT WAIT
filmthusiast this is such a new role for her im so excited
f1lover film + f1 is always going to be the biggest bestest combo ❤️
lecsluv LMAOOO NOT CHARLES LIKING THIS
zendayyn mans a fan
norrisbaby Oh hes quick 😆
yourusername recently added to her instagram story!
yourusername recently added to her instagram story!
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari, pierregasly, and 1,482,2058 others
yourusername 3/4 done with filming for First Gear 🤍 So much work has been done for this movie and it's been the good kind of overwhelming so far. I've learned so much and experienced so many new things.
Included the one and only charles_leclerc here because majority of the things I learned came from him. He's pretty nice except he was beyond nervous when I drove the car for the first time.
scuderiaferrari We're glad to know Charles was the best tour guide ever! ❤️
lecsmmylove NOT FERRARI STICKING WITH THE TOUR GUIDE DESCRIPTION???
hamilfilm charles leclerc making his way into y/n's official ig account is not something i have on my bingo card
popgirltay u guys r so cute <3 friendship goals!
livelovelecs no, dating announcement next LOLOL
charles_leclerc Why do I seem like the bad guy here, I taught you pretty well didn't I?
yourusername I didn't say you were a bad teacher 😕
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc Everyday's karting day 🚘
lecsferrari the red nails??? sir u aint slick who is that
sainzmclaren It's Y/N 😭 She posted karting pics today too
yourusername What do you have to say for yourself that you lost?
charles_leclerc I let you win, jolie 😁 Pretty.
ferarrimercs HE CALLED HER PRETTY?????
yourusername
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yourusername The student has become the teacher 😎
charles_leclerc Anyone would win if they were fighting kids on track
yourusername I sense sore loser 😝
leclercsyn TOO CUTE IM GONNA COMBUST
scuderiaferrari ❤️❤️❤️
yourusername
liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, florencepugh, and 2,034,551 others
yourusername Feeling so emotional that filming for a movie that holds a special place in my heart has come to an end 🤍 I am so ecstatic for all of you to see First Gear because everyone involved put everything they had for this film. I hope you guys love this as much as I do, possibly more.
So many people to thank — the directors, producers, scriptwriters, my co-stars, everyone who's worked so hard to make this into reality, I owe you all so much.
But I also never thought I'd meet someone so special. Charles, this past year for us have been so crazy and I'm glad I got to spend it with you. If it helps, the moment they told me you would be giving me a tour of the paddock, I fell instantly 😝
leclercsyn MY PARENTS AAAAA IM SCREAMING
scuderiaferrari We are so proud of you, Y/N ❤️ The whole team is waiting for the movie!
charles_leclerc What do you mean if it helps, I was literally sweating while telling you what a pitwall is
lecslover HES SO FUNNYHTBHRHB
charles_leclerc
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charles_leclerc Most talented person I've come across. Watching you on set has become one of my favorite things to do; it reminds me of just how amazing you are. To more karting sessions with you ❤️
Sincerely,
Your paddock tour guide
lecshamilton hes owning the tour guide title, mad respect
sainzlove I AM MELTINGGGGG
f1luvr power couple me thinks?
yourusername Get ready to lose 🥱
--------
tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy
notes: why i take so much time making these ill never understand anyway i hope u guys like this hehehe thank you sm for reading <3
#writtenbyrae#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc insta au#charles leclerc social media au#charles leclerc instagram imagine#charles leclerc ig imagine#charles leclerc fluff#formula 1#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#formula 1 social media au#formula 1 ig imagine#formula 1 instagram imagine#f1 social media au#f1 ig imagine#f1 instagram au
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So... Warriors
It is obvious by now he's not ok. He's irritable and tense.
I've had thoughts and ideas on this for awhile, so I think now's a good time to speak them. Very important detail at the end.
There are some really big and some small things adding to his stress
The drama with the sword. Wild went against the agreed plan, and lashed out in anger fear for twilights injury. From things Jojo said, Wars is mad about it for a while.
I have said this in other posts, but based on things Jojo has said and some details, I do not think Wild likes wars. He has not really gotten close to him, which adds on to the negativity between them
But Wars... is a captain. This journey is different, and he's doing amazing at setting aside expectations of how to work with rank. But that is still a clear stressor- to him that was unacceptable in battle
^this is one big thing we watched go wrong and has clearly been upsetting since
Another thing is
Wars has been taking on too much. We've seen him break up a fight at the inn, comfort Time (time!), and tell him he'd take care of the others.
Twice he said "let them", and "let him be"-making others have space they needed. He asked Four what was wrong and followed up with helping with smithing.
^^These are all small things. None of these are huge- practically tiny tasks. But they add up- all the attention to others feeling but not his own
... and
Wars has not smiled. Yes, he smiled, but it was not his smile. Since Twilight went injured to the inn, there has only been smiles in a way expected, but not much beyond when he found out his friend wasn't dead. (And when he helped Four at the blacksmiths)
In the updates, I have seen others saying how cool/pretty he looked. Which he did! But emotion wise, I only thought he looked angry. Even when teasing Twilight...
^Not his smile
But here's the biggest thing that I believe is bothering him...
I've wanted to point this out for awhile. The thing is, Wars was really hurt when he found out Twilight didn't tell him about Wolfie
It's small details. A few sentences and facial expressions. But they add up over the chapter, and I don't think he felt trusted or trusting when he found out
He tried to find out who else knew
And why he was one who didn't
*read the blurred words:
"No one said anything to me, I'm just left out of the loop. Who else knows? Just us?"
Wolfie being secret wasn't necessarily about trust, but wars took it personally. He really didn't understand or want to accept that Twilight would have told some of the others but not him...
Wars is distinctly closer to the ones his age, who the younger ones often turn to. And as someone who's been through war, who bonds closest with those he feels he works with best?
Twilight having a major secret he didn't share with Wars, but did with others,
Felt like a knife to the (back?) chest.
And it hurt him
Look at his face when saying "we couldn't do a thing for him". He's looking away, directly after asking four and wild if they knew. I don't think he felt trusted. Or trusting. From thinking someone wasn't who he thought he was, and maybe was closer to others...
^^this is what I think is perhaps the biggest stressor- yet most unnoticeable
Wars never spoke to anyone about his feelings. He pushed it aside and went and helped.
This is ok. Between people so close, anything can be worked out. This is very revealing of how much Wars cares about twilight and the others
As far as Warriors pushing aside his needs and focusing on others... it's hard.
But I can confidently say this: Warriors would never want to not help all he could, when the others needed him
Here's this screenshot that makes me laugh (and somehow sky is just chill with this?)
Wars: oh my god my friend just came back from a wolf what the Hylia who can I even trust I'm having an invisible crisis
Sky: oh yay the sword helped he's back :)
Twilight: I'm fine *currently dying*
Wars is stressed right now. He's taken on too much, he's probably still mad at Champion, and... he feels betrayed (god wars should never have to feel betrayed) and untrusted
Like literally everyone ever others, wars deals with his hurt. Sometimes he can't deal with it alone, and sometimes he can. It will all work out, and I love how much he loves his brothers.
But nothing, I repeat nothing
Will be ok
IF HE DOESNT START WEARING THE DAMN SCARF SOON CMON WE HAVENT SEEN IT IN LIKE TEN UPDATES
PUT ON YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SCARF CMON MAN
Ok I'm calm <3
.
Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse :D
#petition to bring the scarf back 2024#linked universe#linkeduniverse#no hate towards any for accepting Wars help#they were all overextended. now for recovery#my fanfic authors know what I'm talking about with trust and betrayal#he's not ok#I cannot make a post only exploring the dark sides of relationships#with love strong enough to hurt- how is there not beauty to be found there?#I only like the scarf to want it back. but. I have given up. have at it wars simps#Lu wars#I feel like some of my wording was too harsh- perhaps from just discussing an uncomfortable topic#but if I have said anything offensive let me know I want to learn :D
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too sweet, part 4
how do you sleep so well?
series master list
liked by _quinnhughes, markestapa, trevorzegras, and others
yourusername: somewhere on a beach
rutgermcgroarty: come home plz i can't handle him anymore
yourusername: but i love the beach
rutgermcgroarty: i miss my sanity
yourusername: boo hoo get over it
trevorzegras: i just know quinn is going mad with the lack of clothing in these posts
_quinnhughes: i really don't like you
yourusername: Quinn Hughes- Trevor's #1 Hater
trevorzegras: ^ i just don't get it. i'm awesome
_quinnhughes: incorrect
jackhughes: have you ever heard of pants? or a t-shirt?
yourusername: i have no idea what those things are. enlighten me big brother
jackhughes: ur impossible
yourusername: impossibly good-looking? I know. I'm the hottest out of all of us
lhughes_06: no chance, ur like 3rd at best.
yourusername: uncalled for
luca.fantilli: she's better looking than you bud lhughes_06
rutgermcgroarty: ^ for sure
trevorzegras: i'm not trying to get punched but I gotta agree ^
markestapa: ^ sorry luke she wins that fight
edwards.73: she's just the hottest. period.
*comment deleted*
edwards.73: she wins it's not even a competition
username43: lmao ethan tries to be slick but everyone still sees his comments
username00: please he's so far gone for her it's not even funny
taylorrose: please can i be you
yourusername: can you be me?? can i be you???
taylorrose: i'm your biggest fan
yourusername: that's crazy bc i'm your biggest fan
lhughes_06: this is disgusting
jackhughes: ^honestly
yourusername: i'm so sorry you don't get to experience of magic of friendship- hyping each other up and pretending we're in love lhughes_06 jackhughes
taylorrose: pretending?? we're literally married
yourusername: TAYLOR we weren't going to tell anyone yet
luca.fantilli: tf is this comment thread
rutger.mcgroarty: bruh what happened to us getting married?? yourusername
yourusername: rut that was only in your dreams
username26: me patiently waiting for ethan to notice that rut said he was going to marry y/n
username65: fr where is he
edwards.73: you wish she would marry you rutgermcgroarty
rutgermcgroarty: mmm i don't think I'm the one in this friendship who's wishing she would marry them
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yourusername: can i just stay here forever?
lhughes_06: please do
yourusername: bitch
yourusername: you'd be lost without me
yourusername: i'm literally your best friend. the number of texts i have telling me to come see you in jersey prove it
lhughes_06: so ur just gonna expose me like that?
jackhughes: please she's exposing nothing we all know ur waiting for the day she moves to jersey
_quinnhughes: fr not a secret that you actually miss her dude
trevorzegras: aw baby hughes 1 misses baby hughes 2
yourusername: i hate that stupid nickname
lhughes_06: fr^
yourusername: i miss you too lukey lhughes_06
*liked by lhughes_06*
username25: wait luke and y/n's love for each other is adorable
username35: REAL it's so cute how close they are
username21: we love the twins
taylorrose: please the frat boys would love that
yourusername: they really would wouldn't they
_quinnhughes: frat boys?
yourusername: oh yeah they love me
yourusername: i've got so many prospective husbands
edwards.73: i thought you hated frat boys?
yourusername: no i hate umich frat boys, the ones here- damn.
rutgermcgroarty: uh oh he didn't like that answer
yourusername: that's tough
_alexturcotte: rainbow!
yourusername: rainbow!
username24: please alex comments the most random shit
username35: ignoring the chaos of her comments 😂
edwards.73: damn.
yourusername: thanks?
edwards.73: it was a compliment
yourusername: i know just wanted you to say it
edwards.73: 🙄
edwards.73: ur gonna pay for that one
yourusername: oh no don't threaten me with a good time
_quinnhughes: wtf is happening
rutgermcgroarty: please tell me ur going to her house PLEASE IM BEGGING
lhughes_06: tf did I miss
jackhughes: i'd also like to know ^
luca.fantilli: i don't think you do lhughes_06 jackhughes _quinnhughes
#ethan edwards x y/n#ethan edwards x reader#ethan edwards#quinn hughes#jack hughes#luke hughes#trevor zegras#rutger mcgroarty#mark estapa#luca fantilli#dylan duke#umich hockey#umich boys
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i've been thinking about the whole "friction in his jeans" thing a lot lately, and while it is certainly one of the more iconic instances of the lyric in the CD booklet being different from the actual song, it is far from the only one. on top of that, there are quite a few lyrics that play with double meanings that only become clear when they're written out.
so, i present a collection of every lyric in the fob CD booklets that differ from the final version, punctuation and double meanings that aren't noticeable unless the song is written out, and any other interesting details i find in the process, or a really long post of me cornplating about fob:
disclaimer that if the difference is small enough/doesn't change the meaning of the line i won't include it because that would take me years (for example, the book says "light that smoke for giving up on me" and patrick says "yeah, one for giving up on me" but literally who cares that changes nothing. everything i include here is relevant, i think)
follow-up disclaimer that there are a bunch of fucking typos in every single one of these books because these boys never proofread anything but unless i think it's significant in some way i probably will skip it
TAKE THIS TO YOUR GRAVE:
tell that mick:
"I hope you choke on those words, that kiss, that bottle - I confess / now ash yourself out on the insides, when I said I loved you I swear I lied"
grand theft autumn:
"someday i'll appreciate in value, get off my ass and call you... but for the meantime i'll sport my brand new fashion of waking up with my clothes on at 4:00 in the afternoon"
saturday:
"pete and i said goodbye to astoria with promise and precision and mess of youthful innocence"
(most of these are just silly but this one fucking hurts)
sending postcards:
"fake it like you matter - cause that's the biggest secret you have to keep"
chicago is so two years ago:
"that means that I believed every single lie you said (and learned from the best)"
"cause every pain of glass that your pebbles tap negates the pains i went through to avoid you / and every little pat on the shoulder for attention fails to mention i still hate you" (pain of glass instead of pane of glass - i think this is supposed to be a parallel. that or pete just misspelled pane)
patron saint:
"I'm holding out and I'm holding on to every letter and every grudge"
*flashes forward 20 years to hmlag*
anyway
FROM UNDER THE CORK TREE:
our lawyer made us change the name of this song so we wouldn't get sued:
"we're good friends only when you're on your knees"
sugar:
the icon, the legend
"don't mind me, i'm watching you two from the closet wishing to be the friction in his jeans" 🎉🏳️🌈
dark alley:
"joke me something awful just like kisses on the necks of 'just friends'"
"I'm hopelessly hopeful that you're just hopeless enough"
champagne for my real friends, real pain for my shrimp friends:
"you steer away in a rearview mirror, make my head swim"
i slept with someone in fob:
"someone old, no one new / always borrowed, always you"
THIS ONE!! THIS FUCKING ONE [CAR CRASH] [SIRENS]
ahem. anyway
sixteen candles:
"i confess, i'm just messed up / dropping 'i'm sorrys' like you're still around"
XO:
"to hands"
(that's it. no "between legs, and whatever it takes" just hands. just fuckin. to hands)
"to hotel stares/stairs" (wordplay!! to clarify it literally says "stares/stairs" in the book)
"choose awe or sympathy"
also in the last verse it says 'to the "love"' with the quotes which is just kinda funny
INFINITY ON HIGH:
this ain't a scene:
"crashing not like hips or hearts"
i'm like a lawyer:
"i only keep myself this sick in the head cause i know how the words get you (off)"
"collect the bad habits that you couldn't bare to keep" (idk this one might just be a typo)
hum hallelujah:
similarly, this might also be a typo, but "versus" is spelled "verses"
(after) life:
ok. ok. hear me out. this is the cornplatiest i have ever been. but on genius it says "death's in a double bed"
and on the lyric book it says "deaths in a double bed"
that changes everything!!! (not really, i know) it's not death as a concept or figure or whatever it's deaths. as in multiple people dying. aaaaaaaaaaaaaauuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaughhhhhhhhhhh
moving on
carpal tunnel:
"we take the sip from life's lush lips"
the line "we might've started singing just a little soon" isn't listed, it's just the goodbye line twice
"but i'm just tired yawns for fawns"
you're crashing:
"the cause, the kid, the charm, and the curse"
ginasfs:
"lips pressed this close to mine"
"but the prince of this failing empire knows" (hhhnnnggggggghhh)
"i've already given up on myself once but the third time is the charm" that's not how numbers work pete <3
"just kind of figured on not figuring myself out"
FOLIE A DEUX:
folie a deux doesn't have a lyric book. just portraits of the boys with empty white pages that have their names written on them. my poor beautiful masterpiece
BELIEVERS NEVER DIE VOL. 1:
fnowae:
not a lyric but for some reason the whole fuckin song is in quotes
SAVE ROCK AND ROLL:
the phoenix:
another punctuation thing but instead of "hope to die" it's "hope-to-dies"
"you're wearing our vintage misery"
alone together:
"my heart is like a stallion, they love it more when it's broke in" instead of "broken" (i love double meanings!! i love wordplay!! i love pete wentz!!)
where did the party go:
"i will appear to you if you make yourself shake fast enough"
the mighty fall:
the lyric book straight up doesn't have big sean's part 💔
rat a tat:
at the end there's this "talk less / mean more / let's be electric / like we were before" that i have literally never heard so i'm assuming it's a neat little cut lyric
save rock and roll:
"i will save the songs / the songs we're singing"
AMERICAN BEAUTY / AMERICAN PSYCHO:
irresistible:
"coming in announced" this one. this one's just a typo. come on boys it's been 12 years at this point read the books more than once
"i just dragged my nails on the tile / i just follow your scent" ?? idk
"this will not be a battle"
ab/ap:
for some fucking reason it just says "she's an american beauty" three times at the start of the song 😭
"and as we're drifting off to sleep" isn't in there, it just says "and all those dirty thoughts of me, they were never yours to keep"
the kids aren't alright:
indulge me once more, reader. i am cornplating again
instead of "former heroes who quit too late and just wanna fill up their trophy case again" it's "wanted to" do you understand why that makes me insane
also they have it as "will put your curse in reverse" instead of "we" which could be a typo but could also be a neat little change
uma thurman:
"you cut me deep like uma thurman"
jet pack blues:
"i'm the kind that can turn june to september / the last one that you'll ever remember"
"between these two white highway signs"
immortals:
"i try to picture you without me but i can't"
M A N I A:
hold me tight or don't:
the line "i'm pretty sure that this isn't how our story ends" isn't included
wilson:
"i know it's just a number but to me you're the 8th wonder"
sunshine riptide:
they didn't include any of burna boy's lines 😒
SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST:
smfs doesn't have any lyric changes that i noticed, just the usual typos.
update: future emma here, upon further contemplation I have decided to add the line "I'd never go, I just want to be invited" since the first verse definitely says "I'll" (thank you sugarweregoinin and foliejpg for inspiring this revelation)
and there we have it! if you're insane patient enough to have made it until the end, thank you for reading and i hope you enjoyed! if there are any i missed/any in CDs that i don't have please let me know i find these so fascinating (if you couldn't tell). i just love getting glimpses into their writing process and seeing how the songs we know and love evolve before they get to us. i might also do a post about how spotify/genius gets a bunch of their lyrics wrong because it pisses me off but this is all for now, good day/night!
#fall out boy#fob#i can't believe i spent four hours on this#take this to your grave#from under the cork tree#infinity on high#folie a deux#save rock and roll#american beauty/american psycho#mania#so much (for) stardust#patrick stump#pete wentz#joe trohman#andy hurley
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hello all! been a moment since we last discussed some things, so I'm coming online to discuss the progress of Larkin's development and make a few announcements :)
over the last ten months, larkin has gone through a lot of changes, some of which I've documented here--but most of it I've kept pretty private. I realized that over the few short years I've been developing the game, I sort of grew an unhealthy dependence on my presence within the 'interactive fiction' community that I really, really needed to take a step back from and break, all in order to ensure that I could enjoy working on what originally started out as a passion project for me.
since july of last year, I've completely reshaped and rewritten how larkin exists as a project, shifted it's genre and started collaborating with a few others to ensure it can be of the highest quality it can possibly be. uptop, i'd like to mention @tapeworrmart who's taken on the immense task of putting together most of the game art for me, @khiita and @ann1a-1 who have both taken on the roles of my editors (and also sounding boards for when I am being absolutely insane) and my production manager phillip, who without his assistance, larkin would barely exist.
with that, let's do a progress report. the intended demo of larkin, or what i've taken to calling 'episode one' (yes, i said, 'episode,' more on that in a minute) has stretched to just over 200k words worth of content. it stretches all the way from the earliest versions of larkin's original prologue, to the end of the original chapter two. so far, we've completed 3 out of the intended 20 character portraits, as well as some more art that's slowly been in development.
now, on to the announcements. probably the biggest, and the one I am most ashamed of is--due to the fact that I've been slammed with graduate school work and some other external factors, Larkin as it currently exists is not the best that I think it can be. I'm deeply sorry for this, but I want to ensure that you all are getting the highest quality game you could get from me--and right now, I know it's just not that. Which is why I am unfortunately, pushing the release of the demo back until Friday, June 14th, 2024. Patrons will be granted access to the most recent edit of the demo two weeks earlier on Friday, May 31st 2024. In the meantime, I will be working day and night (quite literally) to get what I'm dropping on you up to par and something that I'm happy with.
To make up for this disappointment, I'm planning on repopulating the blog with a lot of content over the coming months, rewriting new versions of old asks, posting art and short stories.
Next on the agenda and also an equally important announcement. I'm changing the rating of Larkin to Mature or 18+ As I've been writing these past few months, working through a lot of themes and figuring out the story I want to tell, I've found that I think the change in rating is entirely necessary. While I don't think I've ever had that big of a minor fanbase--I think that this is just what I am most comfortable doing. There has consistently grown a little bit more of gore, and trauma exploration, which is the main reason for this change in rating, but, this does allow for the inclusion of something that I've been toying with since the intial release of the game. There is going to be explicit sex scenes in this new version of Larkin--all of which, you the player are able to opt out of, or completely avoid if that's something you want--but I just thought a little announcement would be warranted. This does not mean however, I am comfortable with answering thoroughly explicit asks or getting unsolicited sexual messages. The goal is to keep this game blog mainly tame.
Please respect this boundary of mine.
Third thing to be announced. I've also changed the format in which Larkin will be released. Rather than around the twenty-five chapters in one of a series of 'Books'/'Games', Larkin will be released episodically over four 'seasons' with eight-ten episodes of around 200k-250k words each (though, this is just an early estimate--they could grow longer, as I'm basing this purely off the demo/Episode One)
Finally and a little bit of a fun note: there are now twelve romance options throughout larkin, five male, three female, one non-binary and three gender-selectable. With those upcoming asks, you'll hear more about each in the coming days :)
With all that being said, I wanted to lastly thank all of you for supporting me over the years and putting faith and your interest in this project. truly, the support of all of you means the world to me and I can't wait to share more of larkin with you all.
thank you 💖
#larkin game#larkin if#larkin#announcement#game announcement#blog update#interactive fiction#if#cyoa#cyoa game#twine interactive fiction#twine#twine game#sugarcube twine
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Ok, but no one talks about the fact Adam was literally MADE to reproduce. I know for a FACT he cums buckets and no one can convince me he doesn’t have the biggest sensitive balls in the show😤 I want to overstimulated him while telling him what a good boy he is. so bad 😭😭
P.S love your Writing!!
Oh nah bc HE DOES cum buckets and his balls are SO FUCKING SENSITIVE I fucking love you for this request so here ya fucking go!!
But I still want more, don't know what I'm after
pairing: Adam x male!reader
warnings: language, anal sex, sub!Adam, dom!Reader, praise kink, overstimulation
note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers
“Fuck, yeah, just like that,” the first man moaned loudly as his hands gripped your hair firmly, forcing you to move your head back and forth at a quick pace. Your eyes were on his face, drinking in every little emotion the first man had on display, his mask was somewhere on the floor, just like his clothes. His eyes were shut and he was visibly enjoying himself, the brunette was kind enough to let you hear how much he was enjoying himself. “Best fucking head- shit- I've ever got,” he mumbled mindlessly and you slapped his hip bone harshly, drawing another moan from him.
To you it was quite entertaining that the taller male thought he was in charge when really he wasn't. Yes, he was controlling the pace and yes, he was thrusting inside your mouth, but was he in control? No. Because you simply allowed him to use you, you had given him permission, had even offered it to him - oh how Adam was so clueless how that decision would backfire on him.
The brunette was sitting on the edge of your shared bed, you in-between his legs, sucking him off, giving him ‘the best head he ever got’. Your hands were sliding up and down his inner thighs, whenever your fingers got even close to the brunette's balls he started to shiver - a spot so sensitive yet so tempting for you to touch, to explore. It's not like you've never touched his balls, or licked them, but it wasn't something you were doing daily, simply because they were so sensitive.
Adam's fingers in your hair tightened and his breathing became harder, louder. He opened his eyes a little to look down at you, to watch you swallow his dick - the first human dick that had ever been created. And oh fuck the image of his erection disappearing inside your mouth did things to him, good things, the best things even. “Close,” was the only warning you got before the first man picked up the pace yet again and it only took him a moment longer to actually fulfill his promise and come undone in your mouth.
It wasn't physically possible to swallow it all, not for you and not for another mortal soul. It was simply too much, yet you were always eager to try your best and drink as much as you were able to. However your best was far from drinking it all - so fucking far away from it. Adam's fucked out eyes watched as his cum leaked from the corner of your mouth, he watched the white liquid staining your lips, your chin, fuck, even your cheeks. It was everywhere, inside your body, on your skin, on his skin - some of it dripped on the floor and you knew it would be a bitch to clean that shit up later. Because for now you had other plans.
You kept moving your head through his orgasm, which resulted in a lot of his own cum dripping down his shaft, onto his balls. And who were you to leave your partner all dirty covered in their own fluids, right? So you pulled your head back, Adam's still hard dick slipped from your lips and hit his stomach. You quickly grabbed his legs, yanked them upwards and placed them onto your shoulders, the first man was quick to cross his shins behind your head so that they wouldn't slip and fall. The sudden shift of position and the lack of energy due to his post orgasm haze caused Adam to fall onto his back with a quiet moan. Good.
You were swift to lean in again, your tongue pressed itself against Adam's dick as if it were providing the air that filled your lungs - the reality wasn't as far off as it may have seemed. After all it was his seed filling your stomach. His dick was clean in no time and while you licked and teased it, you felt it slowly going soft underneath your tongue - Lord have mercy with this man because he was not ready for what was about to come. Because the brunette lifted his upper body a little - only the slightest bit - and made grabby hands at you, expecting you to get up off your knees and give him the cuddles he always desired after sex. But you weren't done with him just yet so you ignored his silent request for physical touch and licked down his shaft until your tongue met his balls.
A violent shiver went through his body and you heard how the first man inhaled sharply at the sudden and clearly unexpected contact. “Fuck, no, please,” he whined quietly, the pleaed was muffled by his own hand that he had lifted to bite into. Another request you ignored - if the brunette wanted you to truly stop he'd use the safe word you had agreed on. Unless that was the case, you were good to keep going. At first you just licked the ejaculate off of the sensitive skin, one of your hands held onto his hips, preventing him from thrusting his hips, the other was squeezing his thigh. Adam drew you in closer with his legs, and you chuckled softly at his reaction, “You’re such a good boy for me, you know that?” And while Adam desperately tried to hide it, you heard the whimper that fell from his lips at your praise. “Too much,” he cried out as your lips wrapped around his balls and sucked them inside your mouth - the first man thought he was gonna die from the overwhelming pleasure that flooded his body.
His nails dug into the sheets as his body tensed up and he felt his dick harden again, the tight heat that surrounded his testicles felt heavenly and like his personal fall to hell at the same time - he knew he wanted more despite his body telling him otherwise. “Please,” he mumbled, a whine of your name followed as he pressed the back of his head against the mattress, desperately trying to buck his hips, but you had pinned him down good. “You sound so pretty when you beg for me, baby,” you hummed, your lips stretched into a wicked smile that bittered your sweet words. “My handsome angelic baby,” you mumbled against the sensitive skin of his nuts and Adam flinched a little at the vibration that sent through his lower body parts. “Being so fucking good for me.” And Adam found himself nodding violently in agreement, huffing out excited, “Yes, your good boy.”
The brunette tossed his head from side to side, trying to get used to the unusual amount of pleasure that fueled his body, his dick was fully erected again, throbbing for attention in the most painful way and yet Adam was too lost in desire and lust to do something about it. He wanted more. More praises, more touches, more friction, more love. And yet his body screamed at him that what he had was already too much, that he wouldn't be able to handle more. Adam's hands moved from the sheets to your hair again, pushing you away while also trying to get you closer, to get more. And you let him.
Overstimulating the first man wasn't something he was used to - you weren't even sure if that was something you could get used to in the first place. But over stimulation was so rarely done that he had no chance to even deal with it properly - usually the both of you were too fucked out for it, too spent so that all you were able to do was wrap your wings around each other and fall asleep covered in soft feathers. The golden feathers of his wings tickled your hand that was holding down his hips but you simply ignored that, you were too focused on pleasuring the brunette. And then the hand that had been squeezing his thigh softly wrapped around Adam's dick and he was done. The first man covered himself in his own cum as he moaned your name on the top of his lungs. The white liquid was quick to run down his sides, staining the once pure feathers of his wings and the sheets underneath them. The pain that had been throbbing through his dick was gone and so was the desire for more, exhaustion wrapped Adam in a tight blanket and you watched as he almost immediately closed his eyes to take a deep breath.
“You look absolutely stunning, Adam,” you hummed as you got up, your knees made a cracking sound at that - fuck next time you definitely needed a pillow to kneel on. You climbed onto the bed next to him. “Shut the fuck up ‘n’ c’mere,” he simply mumbled, his voice was hoarse, probably from screaming and moaning for you, as he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you flush against his chest to bury his face in your hair and inhale your scent. “You’re fucking dirty,” you complained but Adam just gave you a tired hum, rolled you two over while wrapping you up in his wings, “Don’t fucking care, just wanna sleep.”
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Chapter 12 Progress [08/APR]
Hey gang, I've started posting updates on my Patreon now that I'm actually making some damn progress on this chapter, so I figured to cross-post the latest update here as well. These are usually for members only but it's been sooo long, the ones I'm posting in April are all going to be for free 🙏🏼
This progress report focuses on a specific section of what I'm working on regarding CH12 and, more specifically, Kham.
About Kham
This one is turning out to be a bigger branching route than I expected. For those not in the know, I described in my dev sneak peek from last month how the opening scene of CH12 will involve the Crown dealing (or not dealing?) with Kham. It will be a bit of a culmination of all the choices you've made regarding Kham so far: did you inform her of the assassins in CH5, did you decide to trust her/were you honest with her in CH6, and did you choose to ask her to mediate for you in CH10?
Particularly that last decision will lead to the biggest difference in scenery: if you asked for Kham's help, you will get a scene at the palace involving her and the peri trader. If you decided not to ask her, however, the story will instead see you investigating the peri trader personally.
Initially, these were both two very clear branching paths with two very clear-cut consequences, but I decided it made more sense to offer additional variation. Choosing not to ask for her help with the peri trader will NOT lock you out of being able to ally with her... but the circumstances of it will be quite different compared to a player who has trusted Kham from the start and asked for her help.
You can, of course, decide not to ally with her on either branch as well, if you don't think she can be trusted. In which case, you should be prepared to make an enemy out of her: there's no fence-sitting on this one, and there won't be any chances to make an ally of her later on in the story. Similarly, if she turns out to be untrustworthy, and you make an ally out of her now, there won't be any takebacksies later... so you might end up stabbed in the back.
This is your one and only shot, so choose wisely.
About D and X
I'm currently working on the branch of the Crown dealing with the peri trader without Kham's involvement, and it's a pretty fun variation. There are some undercover detective vibes going on, and it's nice to write a scene set in the city as opposed to the palace for some variety. Though I've also dabbled in the route with Kham's help, and the Crown really flexes their royal authority in that one. Can go no wrong with either option in terms of entertainment, imo!
What's also been fun to explore further is how the main LI's subplot is starting to affect things in the story. I do have to note that for the branching sequence with the Kham choice, there's a bit of a spotlight on D and X since those two were gone for a whole chapter, so they get to spend some special time with the Crown in the first half of CH12. But R and A will be back for the rest of it!
I'll give you some D and X route crumbs this week since I've been chipping away at that one first, and hopefully I'll also have some on R and A next time:
For people who aren't on D's route, they'll get to find out something special about D that D romancers became privy to in CH11. It doesn't change much for the Crown on those routes, just some D lore you may enjoy and an opportunity to grow your friendship further.
As for D romancers, you all may or may not get a potentially devastating sequence depending on how your Crown handled their little court scene in CH11. If you managed to protect D, then all the better, but if you couldn't stamp out the court's protests... well, let's just say your Crown is going to have to be the one to inform D of any bad news.
Plus there's that damned letter to worry about. I'm sure that won't become any kind of problem at all.
For people who aren't on X's route, things are peachy! Honestly, all of the drama that happens for X romancers is not a big deal for everyone else, since X's romance with the Crown is the thing that causes them to act out. X friendship players are coasting in that regard, you just enjoy seeing X get to be their usual menace self.
For people who are romancing X, people on their low route might start noticing something different about them. Their actions in the high and low romances will be the exact same, but the vibes on the low route will be off, to say the least. You can still recover to a high route! But it will require having to pierce through that mask X is so fond of wearing...
High romancers: kick back, relax, and enjoy your upcoming romance content guilt-free LMAO
That was it for this week!! I wish I could give you an estimated release window, but I've been wrestling with this chapter, and I'm frankly deeply afraid I won't be able to finish it before summer rolls in 💀
Please keep your local struggling writer in your thoughts and prayers, and as always thank you for your patience and support 🙏🏼
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bf!matt sturniolo hcs🤍
ONLY SFW!
author's note: was a little obsessed with the chris one, so.... here's some bf!matt hcs
warnings: none!
edit: i couldn't wait a whole week to post this, so it's a little present 4 u guys🫶🏼🫶🏼
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🤍- HUGEEE hug guy over here!! especially hugs from behind omgg🤭 (and just any type of physical touch)
🦈- whenever his hands aren't occupied, then they're all over you / intertwined with yours.
🦈- loves whenever he has free time to cuddle with you / just spend even a minute with you. he loves your presence☹️
🤍- buys you flowers every time you come with him to the store, no matter the price of them. (even if he thinks $9.97 is entirely too much for a bouquet of roses..)
🤍- adores seeing you in his clothes.
🦈- like, you walk into the living room in one of his hoodies, "matt, do you know where my phone is?"
🦈- matt doesn't even give an answer to your question, he just continues to sit on the couch and gawk over you.
🤍- HE'S YOUR BIGGEST FAN !!
🦈- you're having an argument with a random girl from your college? he's on his way to back you up.
🦈- you're involved in sports and have an important game? he's already on the bleachers!!
🤍- he shares his airpods with you!! (best bf award goes to matthew sturniolo!!)
🤍- matt loves driving late at night and just listening to slow, quiet music with you.
🦈- he'll quite literally drive to a beach that's more than an hour away & just lay on the front of the car to watch the stars with you.
🦈- big astronomy guy over here as well! he loves the space and just stars in general. he'd geek out whenever he'd see a constellation.
🤍- the biggest sucker for forehead and neck kisses and is constantly showering you in them.
🤍- (speaking of showering....) matt loves warm showers/baths with you and will offer to help wash your hair bc he knows you hate whenever you feel a knot in it.
🦈- just imagine him running his fingers through your hair super gently & carefully untangling the little knots in your hair AGHH
🤍- whispers little 'i love you's' & praises in your ear whenever you guys are laying in bed together ☹️☹️🫶🏼
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author's note: I LOVE THIS SMSMSM this might be my favorite thing i've written so far ahhhhh
#the sturniolo triplets#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo x you#hes so babygirl#cutie patootie
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grammys night
not my best but i needed to post something for the grammys, congrats for the wins harry ilysm
gif credits to @chriswevans
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
Adrenaline and anxiety ran through Harry's veins as he sat on his table, the night had been excellent for him so far, winning the first award they announced and delivering an outstanding performance that he was very proud of despite all.
However, you knew that his nerves were through the roof before the most important moment of the night was coming up. The Album of the Year category.
You had endless conversations with Harry about how he made an amazing album and he didn't need any awards or nominations to validate that he's a great singer and songwriter, and you were still going to be proud of him no matter what, but he still felt pressured and nervous when it came to award shows as prestigious as the Grammys.
"Baby," you quietly spoke, making him look up at you after spending minutes staring into his clammy hands on his lap, "It's going to be okay," you smiled softly grabbing his hand and caressing his knuckles, "Even if you don't win it, you still owned the night and I'm so proud of you."
"Thank you," Harry simply said, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand for a moment, "For being here and for everything, really."
"Oh don't mind me, I only came with you because I knew Taylor Swift was going to be here." you joked, and the small laugh he let out made your own never cool down.
"I love you," he stared right into your eyes, as if you were the only ones in the room, "I know I've said it more times that I can count, but none of this would be possible without you."
"I love you too, baby. More than you can imagine."
And despite not being a fan of PDA, he connected your lips with his in a small kiss, a kiss you knew he needed.
"It's show time." you heard Jeff say when the lights went down again and Trevor Noah came on stage to announce the most important award of the night.
Harry's eyes were fixed on your hands holding his own on your lap, his nerves not allowing him to put his gaze anywhere else.
The fans the recording academy invited to talk about the artists nominated for album of the year stood in a line behind Trevor, and you couldn't help but smile tenderly at the old lady that adored Harry just as much as you did.
"And the Grammy goes to..." Trevor spoke into the mic, and when he opened the card and moved to stand in front of Harry's fan, you knew the award was his,
"It's you, baby!" you whisper-yelled into his ear, and he turned his head to give you a confused look.
"What do you-" and before he could even finish his sentence his name was being called out and the trumpets from Music for a Sushi Restaurant filled the place.
He covered his face and shook his head in disbelief, and you could only let small happy tears come out of your eyes.
"Baby! You did it! It's yours!" you said as he stood up in shock and wrapped his arms around you, swaying you for a moment before grabbing your face with both of his hands and placing a firm kiss to your lips, the cameras capturing the moment that you knew would make his fans go insane.
"I love you so much." he pecked your lips one final time before he got on stage with Tyler and Tom.
With his Grammy in hand, Harry stood in front of the mic, "Shit!" he begun, "I mean—shit! Man—um—I’ve been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. At a lot of different times in my life I listen to everyone in this category when I’m alone.” he took a breath, "I think on nights like tonight, it’s obviously so important for us to remember that there is no such thing as best in music. I don’t think any of us sit in the studio thinking, making decisions based on what is gonna get us one of these.”
You looked at him in complete awe, you weren't looking at a Harry Styles winning album of the year at the Grammys, you were looking at the love of your life accomplishing one of his biggest dreams.
"I would like to thank my family for always supporting me, my collaborators for creating this record with me," he paused to smile, "And I would love to thank the amazing woman who's here with me tonight, my girlfriend. Thank your being my muse and my biggest supporter, I love you."
And as if it was the first sentence you ever learned, you instantly mouthed an "I love you" back to him, unaware of the cameras catching your reactions.
"This is really, really kind. I'm so grateful. This doesn't happen to people like me very often. Thank you."
After Tyler and Tom took the mic to say their speeches, the three of them were off the stage.
"How do you feel?" he asked you as soon as he approached you, wrapping his arms around you in a hug.
"I'll give you a sappy speech later, right now I just really want to kiss my Grammy winner boyfriend."
taglist: @cucciolafaerie @eleanordaisy @sunflowersndpeaches s @golden-hoax @alienorknight @daydreamingofmatilda @ivyproblems @ayeshathestyles s @stylesmygucci @gimsaysay @rosaliedepp @dontworrysunflower @milfrrynation @manifestrry @iceebabies @harrystylesrecs @pleasingrryyy @harianaswhore @noitsmebecky @abeanontoast @grapejuice-rry @vrittivsanghavi @msolbesg @tati813 @sad1esgf @eviesaurusrex @itsgabbysblog @theekyliepage @watermelonsugacry @be-with-me-so-happily @a-strange-familiar @reveriehs @musicforcinemas @harrybabyyyyyyy @tinydeskwriter @noooovaaaaa @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mxltifxnd0m @rach2602 @balletdancerry @b-reads-things @juiceboxrry @lomlolivia @itsgigikay @goldensstateofgrace @missmielyhoran @fdl305 @lightsoutstyles
#harry styles imagine#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fake instagram#harry styles blurb#harry styles one shot#harry styles writing#harry styles story#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles drabble#harry styles request#harry styles fic rec#harry styles au#harry styles headcanon#harry styles fluff#harrysfolklore#harry styles fic#harry styles fan fic#1k#hsfolklore archive
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Hey so I'm not good at subtext and I saw you posting about ep 200 of TMA being awesome. I've listened to it a few times and I'm mostly...confused? I don't understand what happened
(I mean, I get what Martin did to Jon, but nothing other than that)
Would you mind explaining why it's impactful to you?
honestly the main standout thing that makes it really shine to me is the soundscaping and vocal editing, and I've seen people take that as an indirect snide comment about the writing before but it really isn't, the entire scene in the panopticon just sounds gorgeous. the distortion and static on jon's voice, the underscoring of the statement, the way jon and martin's dialogue pops out from the sounds of the crumbling tower, it's just. aaaaaaaaaa. I find it really pleasant to listen to, if you've only listened through speakers then I'd 100% recommend trying it with headphones, it is simply very pretty and well made.
from the story side, it's beat after beat of ultimate catharsis for threads and arcs that have been set up for the whole show.
jon going ham and just really brutally killing jonah with his own hands, no supernatural influence, finally fulling snapping and, it sounds like, gutting him like a fish. it's just about the most lively and impassioned we've heard him all season, and, as far as anyone could deserve to do such a thing, he really is the person who deserved to get to do it.
jon and martin both betraying each other and making the choices that the whole story has been leading them to. jon has spent years fighting against his internalized idea that he can't trust anyone and he's the only person who's powerful/expendable/knowledgeable enough to make decisions and solve problems, and at last he submits to it and takes matters into his own hands. martin has spent years operating under the assumption that he's unimportant and incapable, and now just as he finally accepts that his choices have meaning, he sets the plan in motion that ends up getting them both killed. and jon has tried so hard to be transparent and show him trust that he underestimates just how willing jon is to go behind his back and disregard the plan completely.
and the fuckign. web lighter. I have a longstanding obsession with the mechanics of fate in tragedy narratives, and this lighter. hhh. so, fate (the web) was guiding jon & co to release the fears, but to jon's knowledge, killing jonah and becoming the pupil should have been his winning move to keep them contained. as far as he was capable of comprehending, he made all the right choices, but fate (the web) (the oppressive forces that govern all of our lives) doesn't play fair, it planned for this and cheated him. because he couldn't remember the lighter. he couldn't remember that he already gave georgie the catalyst for the explosion.
this tells me a few things: the ultimate end of releasing the fears was always going to happen, there was nothing jon could have done, but, technically, he could have adhered to the plan and lived to spend what was left of his life with martin and the rest of his nearest and dearest. but that was never really an option, was it? jon archivist sims would never have made that decision, that's why martin tried and failed to plan around it, that's why the web tried and succeeded to plan around it, it would never have happened differently. jon made his choice, it made no difference except to doom himself and the one he loves, he didn't have to do it, and it was inevitable.
and after all of that, after the web cheated him, he could still have won. he could have survived the tower collapse and kept the fears. but one of his biggest stated motives, over and over, is that he can't stand to lose anyone else, and martin is not immune to burning buildings the way he is. in an inverse to gertrude, at the last moment, he chose the barest chance for martin to survive over his own life and principles and big picture goals. he could cope with being responsible for killing the world in the abstract, but when it came to watching the person he loves most die right before his eyes, he caved and came around to martin's perspective. the other worlds can cope, he wants to save the man he loves.
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