#i will mention every fucking thing
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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"
like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.
"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."
... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.
and i'd still keep writing.
i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.
i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley
"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"
and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.
it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.
you create because you're greedy.
#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME#there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing#and the writing is what i need to be doing#writeblr#this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to#edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol#i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means#i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong#i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse#i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO#i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness#and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it#im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us#i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer#and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work#even if it means being miserable#but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.
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hateful gaze
#homestuck#homestuck au#beforus#alpha trolls#kankri vantas#man beforus SUCKS ASS in this au#i cant wait to post this fic. kankri backstory anyone???#like i dont think it was ever stated but. his ass was def culled#and when you think of culling as complete removal of your rights - similar to conservatorship but on crack#like every part of your life is under control of your guardian#it really puts into perspective how horrific this whole thing actually is#not mentioning how a system like that is a breeding ground for abuse against disabled/impowerished#overall just fucking terrible. i have. many thoughts about beforus#its for the ultkri au btw for those unintiated thats a thing im apparently fixated on rn
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finally my obsession with zoot suits becomes useful
#spider man: across the spider verse#spider punk#spider noir#hobie brown#noirpunk#DO YOU GUYS KNOW ABOUT ZOOT SUITS#they’re fascinating the history is just. ouujhghghghhh i love it#not to mention the silhouette??? the chain???? fuck yeah#plus… green carnation… wink wink#green carnations as a subtle queer symbol also fell out of use round the 20s i think but i like it so#also zoot suits are technically a late 30s/40s thing if i remember right but leT ME HAVE THIS#theyre going on a date to a langston hughes reading <333#yknow how every spidey seems to have a borough?? like miles has brooklyn and gwen has chelsea#well. noir has harlem#IMAGINE IT. NOIR RIGHT IN THE THICK OF THE HARLEM RENAISSANCE#I NEED IT TO BE REAL#im so happy i get to incorporate my interest in the roarin 20s#into this magnificent ship. fucking fantastic for me#poem on hobie is love again blues by literally guess
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i know that atsv and spiderverse in general is probably not including Gabe for various reasons and therefore when Mig took his alt selfs place he wasnt actually leaving anyone behind. he said something along the lines of “i found a universe where i was happy” which kinda screams that something was fucked up with his home one, i’d like to think more than usual because the other explanation is that he just left like all his family behind. Which is extremely messed up but also on the other hand a little funny
like imagine being gabe here. Imagine your older brother fucks off to another universe because of his depression and comes back with even worse depression ranting some shit about canon events. You have to be told where he went by his AI because god knows your brother has all the communication skills of a rusty spoon. Have to be told he fucking left with no intention of coming back
#spiderman#sm2099#miguel o'hara#gabriel o’ hara#miguel#like i never expect gabe to be in anything honestly hes my little guy but sm2099 adaptations hate him sometimes#not even going to start talking about the other sm2099 supporting characters but#the idea of gabe just. having his brother fuck off but then also come back with more issues. drives me insane#and you fuckin KNOW this guy would barely communicate a thing gabe would have to bully half of it out of mig and get the other half from lyl#but also. since i mentioned supporting cast. if kasey and hobie ever met its fuckin over for everyone#sm2099 brainworms hitting me so bad since atsv#in atsv they would be even more dysfunctional than their worst comic moments#atsv#silly little textposts#please feel free to ignore this im just obsessed with messed up sibling relationships#Mig comes back to “welcome home cheater” on every wall of his apartment#atsv spoilers#<- SORRY I FORGOR
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one thing I have learned about being poor is that you cannot for a moment stop thinking about it
#theres no peace#every little thing reminds me we are poor#seeing friends having electricity wifi heat food gas. it all costs money. and bills and fees and charges happen all the damn time#im constantly worried that i am measing up somehow or im not keeping track of my finances properly#the person handling our disability assistance application keeps coming back with question after question about my job#and i have so much doubt and fear that ive made some mistake in my answers that will disqualify us from support#and theres this sick backwards stupid thing where applying for and being on disability support is discouraging me from trying to make money#because the more i make the less likely we'll get support but i need to make money to live#its just fucked. and once we're on support i have to make monthly reports of my income so ill feel like im explaining myself all the fuckin#time#cus the system isnt built in a way that makes sense for self employed ppl who have business expenses to account for#sorry for the ranting i cant sleep#truly truly i think poverty is making me a worse persin#more anxious more resentful more jealous more miserable more spiteful#i have so little and there is so little i can do to help it#i want things in a more desparate and even childish way than i used to eant things#spend a lot more time fantasizing about magically having expendable income#not to mention the constant exponential guilt that comes from asking for help or recieving help. its guilt i need to unlearn but i feel it
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prophetic nightmares of the dead (steddie)
Eddie’s been dreaming of dying.
It started his first round of senior year, some kind of prophetic fuck-up from his brain. No one knows except Wayne. Wayne gets it, kinda, from his time in ‘Nam. Knows how vivid nightmares can get, knows all the tricks to waking up and remembering you’re alive.
“It’s that damn music,” he mutters to make Eddie laugh through tears, after Eddie’s woken him up again with his shrieking and stumbling out of his room. “Or that game. Your imagination is vivid enough without you feeding it, boy.”
“You’re right,” Eddie responds unsteadily. “No more of that devil shit for me. I’m going on the straight and narrow. From now on it’ll be…fucking church hymns and songs about the Lord.”
Wayne hums in absent agreement, still rubbing Eddie’s back. The glass of cold water sits heavy in his hands. He takes a drink.
It was practically routine.
He got better at waking up silently, at not running to his uncle after the fourth, seventh, twentieth nightmare in a row. Avoided sleeping at all, showed up to school with bags under his eyes and cranky as all hell. His grades dropped lower than ever, Wayne got more and more concerned, and Eddie kept dying every night.
The Queen of Hawkins High wasn’t the person he was expecting to understand his predicament.
“Do you ever feel like you’re losing your mind?”
“Um, you know, just... on a daily basis.” He smiles, tries to make her laugh. Every day until I get out of this damned town.
Slowly, he wheedles it out of her.
“I keep having these dreams,” she admits. “Nightmares. Every night, for years. It’s always…it’s always the same.”
A chill goes down his spine.
“I’m sorry, I sound crazy.”
“No, no, no,” he scrambles to reassure her. “Keep going, it’s okay. Safe space, right? It’s just me, you, and the trees here.”
She nods, unsteady. “There’s…a monster. And he…he’s after me. And when he catches me, I always…the dream always ends with me…” She raises a trembling hand to her eyes, not bothering to wipe away her tears. Almost like she’s checking if they’re still there.
His blood runs cold.
“Dying,” he whispers. Chrissy lets out a sob. “Every night, since ‘83, you’ve dreamed of dying.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because it’s me, too, Chrissy.” He jumps up, pacing in circles. “I…every single night, since that Byers kid went missing. It’s not the same as yours but this is…this is fucking crazy, what are the odds—oof!”
Chrissy has barreled into his chest, clinging to him with her arms around his neck. He can feel the collar of his t-shirt getting damp.
“Uh,” he stammers as she sniffles into his shirt. His hands hover around her, not sure what to do until he settles them around her back. “There, there?” He tries to soothe. It’s not very soothing, with the way his voice shakes. “It’s okay.”
“Something’s wrong with me,” she gasps. “It’s following me. I keep seeing things when I’m awake, my mother and a clock and a monster—“
“Shit,” he says, a sinking feeling in his chest. He’s not exactly superstitious, but he has a feeling there’s more to this than dreams. “Hey, listen, Chrissy, you’re gonna be okay. Nothing’s going to happen to you.”
She just shakes her head, burrows in closer like she can worm into his skin if she tries hard enough. He’s never been hugged like this in his life, and he has no idea what to do with the scared teenager in his arms.
“Here, hold on,” he says, and carefully removes her arms from his neck. She wipes her eyes, looking away.
“I’m sorry, I just…”
“No, no, it’s cool,” he says. “Promise. I just wanted to give you this.”
Fumbling, he drapes his leather jacket over her shoulders. Her cheerleading jacket can’t be very warm, especially combined with the skirt she’s wearing.
She pulls it tight around herself, even though it probably sticks like weed and cigarettes and Eddie’s BO. He’s a little too preoccupied to be embarrassed about that right now, though.
The bell rings, signaling the end of class. Chrissy startles like a scared rabbit, dread coloring her whole face, and Eddie makes a decision.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
Looks like Hellfire’s getting postponed after all.
They make a stop at Family Video, partially to rent a movie or two, but mainly because Henderson never shuts up about Steve fucking Harrington so now Eddie knows exactly where he works. Why the little rich boy is working a dead end job with Keith as his manager is a mystery, but it’s not one he’s interested in uncovering. Hopefully he’s on shift today.
All of Eddie’s shit luck must have worked to make the stars align, because there he is at the counter, in all his ex-kingly glory. He doesn’t look up as the bell rings, apparently focused on whatever he has in hand.
“Welcome to Family Video,” he calls, chewing on a pen. “Let me know if you need help finding anything.”
“Is that Blue Jeans?” Eddie asks, walking up to the counter as Chrissy goes to look through the shelves. Harrington jumps, slamming the magazine shut.
“Hi, what can I get you—Munson?”
“Harrington,” he grins, reveling in the frown he gets in response. Harrington meets his eyes for one startled second before his gaze travels down to his Hellfire shirt, over his vest and bare forearms, and taking in the belt and ripped jeans. Eddie smiles wider. He oh so loves intimidating the jocks and moral majority of this town.
“Shouldn’t you be in school?” Harrington finally asks, eyes jumping back up to meet his gaze.
“That’s actually why I’m here, I need you to pass on a message for me. We’re skipping, and—“
“We?”
“Hey Eddie,” Chrissy says, appearing behind him. She lays three movies on the counter. “I picked some out, I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, yeah, ‘course,” he says as Harrington’s eyebrows jut up. Chrissy is still wearing his jacket, and he realizes exactly what this looks like. Shit, is Harrington friends with Carver? They probably have some jock bro code that’s totally going to end in Eddie getting beat up, shit—
“Hey Chrissy,” Harrington says agreeably. “Finally dump Carver?”
She blinks, startled at the insinuation. Her cheeks flush. “Oh, no—“
“It’s not like that,” Eddie breaks in, laughing to cover up the panic he feels. Trying to walk the delicate line between not a queer and not stealing a jock’s girlfriend. “Chrissy here just needs some company.”
Harrington nods, clearly not believing them.
“Seriously,” he presses. “I mean, can you really see a girl like her with a guy like me?”
Chrissy frowns, but Harrington looks him up and down again.
“I mean, yeah,” he says. “But it’s really none of my business, I don’t get paid to care who dates who.”
Eddie blinks. It almost sounds like Harrington was calling him hot or something.
Before he can figure out what Harrington actually meant, he starts scanning the tapes. He pauses on the last one, brow furrowing, before he looks between Eddie and Chrissy with understanding in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t know why the sudden change of heart.
“Rocky Horror Picture Show?”
Shit.
He has to clear his throat. “You have that here?”
They don’t. They shouldn’t. It’s not exactly small town video store material. Eddie had to go to Indianapolis to find it again, he knows damn well it’s not at Family Video in fucking Hawkins.
But the cover stares up at him anyway.
“I found it on one of the shelves,” Chrissy says. “It looked like it doesn’t get checked out a whole lot. Is it any good?”
Eddie braces himself for the slurs. For the bored retail worker to disappear and the Bible thumping, red blooded American to come out. It’s not Chrissy’s fault, she didn’t know any better, but if Harrington knows this movie and now he knows that Eddie knows this movie, there’s some bruises in his near future.
“It’s pretty good,” Harrington says easily. Eddie blinks his eyes open to see him smiling warmly at Chrissy, handing her the tapes. “For a, ah, certain type of people.
Well color him surprised. This is an interesting turn of events.
“I own it,” Eddie blurts out without meaning to. Harrington’s eyes snap to him, widening at the confession. “It’s, uh, hard to find, I had to go out of town for it. That’s why I was surprised.”
“Oh, I guess we don’t need to rent it, then,” Chrissy says, completely unaware of the staring contest that’s happening between him and Harrington.
Harrington looks away first. “Right,” he coughs, and goes to cancel it. Chrissy pulls cash out of her pocket.
“Oh, Chrissy, you don’t need to—“
“Don’t be dumb,” she says. “I picked the movies, I’m paying for them.”
He shrugs, unable to fight the logic in that. He’s not exactly in the mood to spend money right now, anyways, since he’s definitely giving her a discount on the drugs after this.
“What was it you needed me to do?” Harrington asks as he prints the receipt.
“What?”
“You said you had a message.”
“Right,” Eddie says. He completely forgot about that. “You’re going to the game tonight, right?”
“How did you know that?”
“Sinclair said you go to all his games.”
“He talks about me?”
“Dude, those kids never shut the fuck up about you,” Eddie says. “Makes me want to pull my hair out.”
“It’s mutual,” Harrington snorts, looking a bit touched. “Henderson already phoned me to ask to join the campaign, man, I’m not filling in—“
“He asked you?”
“Yeah? Wait, if this isn’t about that, then what is it?”
“Tell Henderson he got his wish,” Eddie says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m postponing the campaign.”
“Wait, really? Lucas is going to lose his mind, he was gonna be so bummed if he missed your nerd game—wait, why are you telling me?”
“‘Cause we’re ditching, Harrington, catch up.” Sinclair was excited for the end of his campaign? It makes him feel a little bit guilty, somewhere deep in his nonexistent soul. Oh, well. He’s postponing now.
“I’m going to wait in the car,” Chrissy says, and takes the tapes and Eddie’s keys with her.
“I see what this is,” Harrington says, leaning closer to Eddie and pillowing his chin on his hand. “You got them all riled up, and now you want them to shoot the messenger.”
“You caught me.” He grabs his chest, pretending to be shot. Then he leans forward with a grin. “What’re you gonna do about it?”
“Maybe I won’t tell them, make them wait for the entire time for you to show up. Henderson’ll do it, you know. Then who’ll be in trouble?”
Eddie laughs without meaning to. He doesn’t believe for a second that Harrington will do it, which surprises him. But it seems like Harrington is full of surprises this afternoon.
“So she really hasn’t broken up with him yet?”
“Huh?”
Harrington nods behind him, to where Chrissy is in the van. It seems like she’s playing music, nodding along with a small smile.
“I told you, man, we’re not—“
“That’s not what I meant, it’s just…” he grimaces. “She’s way too good for him. And she’s never seemed…you know. Happy.”
“Really? I’d have thought you and Carver would get along, you know, jock bonding or something.”
“The only jock I’m friends with these days is Sinclair, and he’s as much of a nerd as the rest of ‘em. Anyways, even if I was still on the team, it’s like…I dunno. He sounds like a preacher.”
“The devil knows scripture, too?”
“Something like that.” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. How’d you two end up hanging out anyway?”
“Oh, you know,” Eddie says lightly. “Shared visions, strange dreams, things like that.”
He waits for Harrington to laugh it off, to roll his eyes and go back to his girly magazine. It doesn’t happen. If anything, Harrington grows sharp, gets a cutting edge Eddie’s never seen on him before. Not even for the time he spent as king, looking for peasants to push around.
“Visions? Did you see any weird dust, or animals? People acting weird? Or anything else like that?”
“What?” Eddie blinks, startled. “No? They’re just nightmares, dude.”
Actually, his dreams do involve weird looking animals. A bunch of ugly bats, with teeth that hurt. Whoever said you can’t feel pain in dreams was a fucking liar.
They’re not just nightmares, Eddie knows. At least, not for Chrissy. Not if she’s outright hallucinating. There’s something wrong with both of them, and Eddie’s of half a mind to just drive them both down to Pennhurst and get it over with. But that’s their business, and he’ll be damned if he tells King Steve Chrissy’s secrets. Even if he doesn’t seem that bad, now, out of the fluorescent lights of their school.
“Right, right, of course.” He laughs, dragging a hand down his face. “Sorry, I’m just…on edge, I guess. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”
“I know the feeling.”
“Right,” he says again. “Well, have a good day, I guess. Tell Chrissy her tapes are due back in five days. And, uh, thank you for choosing Family Video.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Eddie says, feeling equally unsteady after the weird turn their conversation has taken. He heads for the door, only pausing when Harrington calls out.
“Oh, and, uh, Eddie?”
“What?” He pauses, one hand on the door.
“If anything…weird happens, let me know, all right?”
He has no idea what that means. “Don’t worry, Harrington,” he says, throwing a smile over his shoulder. “I live weird.”
When he gets back in the van, Chrissy studies him closely.
“What?”
“What did you and Steve have to talk about? I didn't know you were friends.”
“We’re not,” he snorts. “Me, friends with the King? Can you imagine? Nah, we share custody of some of the freshmen in Hellfire.”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I feel like…” she trails off, biting her lip raw.
“Like what?” He encourages.
“You called me a queen. Does that mean we can’t be friends?”
“Uh…” Eddie says, stumbling a bit. He does want to be friends with Chrissy. Even without the fact that they’re probably going to end up at the same cell in the nuthouse, she’s sweet and quiet in a way that makes him want to ask if anyone’s ever told her she can be loud. Her eyes are big and sad, but he can see a smile glancing along the edges of her mouth when he looks at her. She’s clever, he’ll give her that. He’s been caught hook, line, and sinker. “No, I’d— I’d like that. To be friends with you.”
Her smile feels brighter than the sun.
“Then what’s so weird about being friends with Steve?” She asks, glancing towards the Family Video window. Harrington looks like he’s back to reading his magazine, but glances up like he can feel them watching him. Eddie looks away and starts the van.
“Well, for one thing, you’re not one of the assholes who called me names and pushed me and my friends around.”
Harrington’s not either, really. Too busy standing around and being self obsessed to bother. His friends did all the pushing around for him. Wouldn’t do to get his hands dirtied with the freak. The familiar bitterness rises in his chest, and he tries to push it down. Looks at Chrissy out of the corner of his eye as he pulls out of his parking spot.
Her smile has faded, and he could kick himself. “Jason is, though,” she says quietly.
“How long have you guys been dating, anyway?” He asks, eager to change the subject. He pulls out of the lot, all too ready to leave the video store and the man who resides in it behind.
“Three years.”
Eddie chokes, not expecting that answer in the least. “Three years?”
“We got together when we were fifteen,” she says, a grimace pulling at her mouth when he glances at her. Shit, maybe Harrington was right and there is trouble in paradise.
“How do you stand him?”
“He loves me,” she says. It’s not an answer.
“Yeah, but Chrissy, he’s like, a major dick.”
“He loves me,” she repeats. “He wants to go to college together. He wants to live in Hawkins, and have a pretty white wedding, and a job that pays and a wife that’s pretty and sweet and doesn’t have nightmares about dying every night. A wife that’s not crazy. And she’ll have his kids, all two and a half of them, and she’ll always smile and stay at home and never do anything with her life because she gave up all her dreams for him—“
He pulls onto the side of the road. “Jesus,” he breathes, twisting in his seat. “Chrissy. That’s not love.”
“He’s safe.” She looks at him imploringly, eyes wet. “I just have to make it until summer. He can have his pretty little girlfriend, his pretty little life. He can have whatever he wants. I just have to make it to summer.”
He swallows back bile. “What’s summer?”
She looks down. “I got an early admission. University of Chicago. I have scholarships. I’ll pack everything, and run away there, and I’ll never have to see him or my mom or anyone else in this fucking place ever again.”
“I used to hate Steve,” she whispers. “Even if he was nice to me, I used to…just wish he didn’t exist.”
“Shit, Chris, so did I. He was an asshole.”
She shakes her head. “No, because it wasn’t like that. It wasn’t because of that. I was just…jealous.”
“Of Harrington? I think everyone’s been jealous of him at some point.”
Her face screws up. “You don’t get it,” she says. “I didn’t want his house, or his money, or his car, I just wanted…”
“Him?”
“No!” She pulls her hair in front of face, looking at him desperately. “I wanted to be him, because he was…”
He really doesn’t know where this is going. “Because he was…?”
“Nancy,” she breathes with a sigh. “He had Nancy Wheeler, and she was pretty, and smart, and I…I wanted it to be me.”
Oh. Oh. Holy shit, Chrissy Cunningham is coming out to him on his ratty couch. He’s safe, she’d said about Jason, and he’d thought she was talking about all the other ways he was convenient, but… there’s safety in a shield. Easier to hide behind a boyfriend then have people asking questions you can’t answer. He’ll eat his shoes if Jason knows, but at least he’s good for something.
She’s turning pale. “I’m—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—I don’t know why I thought—“
“Woah, woah, woah,” he says, grasping her hand as she tries to flee. “Chrissy, I—Chrissy, wait. Me too, okay?”
She freezes. “You too?”
“Yeah, Chris, me too.”
“Like you had a crush on Nancy too?”
The look he gives her speaks volumes.
“Oh.” She settles back down on the couch, her too-thin wrist trembling in his grip. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He asks, just to make sure.
“Okay,” she says.
“Good.” He sighs, lets go of her hand to run his fingers through his hair. “So, Wheeler, huh?”
A flush blooms across her face.
Steve breaks the surface again, looking panicked, before being dragged back under.
Immediately it’s chaos.
“Steve?” Nancy calls, looking over the side of the boat frantically. “Steve?”
Robin jumps in.
“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie says, as something determined flashes over Nancy’s face. “Let’s think about this—“
She takes a deep breath and dives in after her.
“Shit!” He looks at Chrissy, eyes wide with dread. “We’re not going in there, are we?”
Sounds echo from the shore. Shit, the police.
They’ll probably die if they go down there. But if the cops find them, they’ll take Chrissy’s Walkman, and then she’ll definitely die.
He sees the same resolve settle over her face.
“This is crazy,” he mutters. “This is crazy! Dammit, dammit, dammit!”
She takes his hand. “On three?”
He lets out a hysterical laugh, gripping her hand tightly.
Chrissy counts to three.
They jump.
He spits blood. It dribbles down his chin, and Eddie follows it down, down, watches a few drops land on that glorious chest and thanks every god there is that he’s too scared for the frankly impressive boner that wants to form.
Chrissy elbows him.
“Hey! What was that for?”
“You’re drooling,” she whispers.
“Can you blame me?” He hisses back. “Look at him! That was some fucking Ozzy shit right there!”
She gives him a look.
He toes one of the dead bats by his foot. Ugly little fucker, with sharp teeth. It’s almost familiar.
He doesn’t get too far with that train of thought.
“Sense of humor still intact, that’s good.” She chuckles nervously. Then she shakes him.
“Ow, Rob!”
“You have to stop doing shit like this! ‘Hur, dur, I’m Steve, I’m going to go into the highly dangerous portal and get eaten by bats because I’m stupid—“
“I don’t sound like that!” He bats her hands away from his torso. “Also, you seem to be forgetting the part where I was dragged against my will.”
“You can’t take any more concussions, Steve!”
“No concussion,” he says, and takes her hands in his. She pauses to breathe. They look like they’re in their own little world, and something bitter twinges in Eddie’s chest. “No rabies, no concussion, I’m okay.”
“You’re definitely not,” Nancy says as she moves in to wrap his injuries. He grunts in pain.
“I’m fine,” he insists, and Eddie snorts. He gets a scathing look in return.
“We are not fine,” Eddie says. “We’re in some sort of hell dimension, shit, I…” he turns in a circle, finally taking in the world they’re in. Everything is grey and barren. Red lightning cracks across the sky.
It looks exactly like his dream.
He lets out a nervous laugh. “What the fuck,” he says. “What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—“
“Eddie?” Chrissy grabs his hand, and he turns to her with wide eyes.
“Chrissy, it’s just like my dream. This world, those weird fucking creatures, it’s exactly like…”
She turns pale.
“Dream?” Nancy asks, sharp. “What dream?”
“It’s crazy,” Eddie says weakly. He’s starting to believe it less and less.
“It’s both of us.” Chrissy straightens, raising her chin. “It’s always the same thing. For me, it’s a monster. He takes my eyes, snaps my limbs.” Mercifully, none of them point out the similarities with the recent killings, although all three of them straighten. “For Eddie, it’s…”
“Bats,” he says. “Ugly fucking bats, with sharp teeth. Everything is grey and desolate, and there’s this kid—“
The other three exchange what can only be described as a look.
“I’m crazy,” Eddie pleads, trembling. Please, for the love of God, please tell me I’m crazy. Stick me in the loony bin, tie me up and leave me on the front steps of Pennhurst. Please.
“You’re not crazy,” Nancy confirms. It feels like a death sentence.
“So, what’s the story there?” Eddie asks, tripping over a rock. “How’d you figure out the whole ‘Prophetic Nightmares mean death’ thing, anyway?”
Steve furrows his brow. “You’re taking this surprisingly well.”
“I’m not.” Eddie lets out a laugh. “Trust me, I’m not at all. But I think some part of me had always known, you know? Like, it was too real to be just my imagination.”
Steve nods. “As far as we can tell, it’s only people who die from the Upside-Down,” he tells Eddie. “Has to be directly from it, no second-hand murder or anything.”
“Great.”
“Yeah.” He grimaces. “And it can change, you know? You might be having nightmares one night, and then you do something significant enough to change your…fate or whatever, and they’re gone. Or maybe something happens, and you start having them. It’s not always set in stone, you know?”
“Well, good,” Eddie breathes. There’s a chance they get out of this. “That’s good.”
“Yeah.”
“How do you know all this? Like, do people just come up to you and tell you their nightmares? Do you go around asking everyone in Hawkins what they dream about?”
“As far as we can tell, it started with Barb.”
“Barb?”
“Yeah, uh, Barbara Holland?”
“The one who died from the chemical leak?”
There’s a heavy silence, where Steve looks at Nancy. There’s regret in his eyes.
“She had a nightmare, the night Will disappeared. Told Nancy a monster took her, something with no face and lots of teeth. Nancy told her to lay off the horror movies.”
Something sinks in his stomach.
“That night, they came over to my house, you know? We were messing around, being stupid, and Barb cut herself. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, we told her to go home and went inside. The next day, she was missing.”
“Shit,” Eddie breathes. “The chemical leak?”
“Bullshit,” Steve confirms.
“Shit.”
Steve blinks, eyes jumping back up to his. “What?” He asks, sounding breathless. Poor guy. Those bites must hurt like hell. “Sorry, I didn’t hear that.”
“It’s fine,” Eddie says, even though his mood sours a bit at the idea of Steve not listening to him. “I was just saying, you and Wheeler looked pretty cozy. I think you’ve got a chance.”
Steve stares at him. “…what?”
“Christ, Harrington, your ex-girlfriend! Nancy Wheeler, who leapt after you without a second thought and was giving you eyes the whole time she was patching you up. I’m telling you to win her back.” Sorry, Chrissy. She'd told him she was over that particular crush, though, so he figures it's fair game.
“Nancy? You want me to date Nancy again?” He asks, as if the idea is so far out of the realm of possibility that it’s baffling.
“Do you not?”
“Not really.”
“Why?” Eddie asks, because if there’s anything he’s learning about himself these days it’s that he’s a bit of a masochist. “Isn’t she the perfect girl for you?”
She is. They fit so well, Eddie could see it from space. Nancy Wheeler, with her determination and fearlessness, guns in her room and fire in her heart. Steve Harrington, the hero, the protector, standing at her side where he belongs. It’s so storybook it practically writes itself.
But Steve’s shaking his head. “We weren’t…good together,” he says haltingly, as if he’s debating on whether to even tell Eddie this. “I wanted to ignore it all. I was scared of what I’d seen, scared of the government guys whose NDA’s I signed, just…scared. I wanted to pretend like it never happened, like everything was normal. Nancy couldn’t do that. She lost Barb, and I…told her to forget. I told her to just put out the story the Feds were selling, because I was a coward. Barb’s parents sold their house to hire an investigator for a girl we knew was dead, and god, Nancy’s face…”
Eddie doesn’t know if he wants to hear this. He looks back up at the girls walking ahead. Nancy looks as fiercely determined as usual, but for the first time, he wonders what’s behind it.
“I hurt her, and she hurt me,” Steve continues. “I…shit, I really thought she loved me, you know? I thought we would get married, have kids, the whole nine yards. Realizing it was all…well, bullshit, that was almost worse than any concussion I’ve had, but I don't blame her. I wasn’t what she needed.”
“And now? I mean, you’re clearly a different guy than you were back then,” Eddie says, because he’s kind of nosy at heart. Steve’s being all introspective and shit, just giving up all this information for free, and he wants to know more. It’s not at all because something in him turns smug when faced with the fact that the world’s most fated couple aren’t fated at all. Are actually kind of terrible together, if Steve’s to be believed.
“It’d just be the same thing all over again. I’ll always love her, but we want different things. Different priorities and stuff. I wouldn’t be able to keep up, and she’s not going to slow down for me.”
It doesn’t mean he has a chance. Eddie’s got, like, negative chances with Steve Harrington. Still, the little peacock in him preens.
“What does she need, then?”
Steve’s face is almost wistful. “She needs someone like Jonathan. He’s got…drive, or whatever. He’s someone you know you can trust to do what needs to be done. The two of them made sure the stuff about the chemical leak was published, you know that? Nancy needed closure, and Jonathan made it happen. He’s cool like that. And he’s good to have in a fight, too. Throws a mean punch.” He smiles wryly at that, touching his temple like he’s lost in a memory. “He’s passionate, and caring, and he’s so stressed all the time, but he still manages to be, like, soothing. And he’s got those eyes, you know? They’re big and sad and like, wet all the time. He always looks like he’s about to cry, but it works for him. He’s just…he’s good at making people feel safe.”
Eddie barely processes the words, too busy staring at Steve in confusion, jealousy churning in his gut. Which is to be expected, given that he’s been pushing said jealousy down for this entire conversation, but he doesn’t know how they went from Steve’s relationship with Nancy to how pretty Jonathan Byers’s eyes are.
He’s good at making people feel safe. God, he had it all wrong. In the wake of finding out they’d lived through three world-ending apocalypses, that might be the greatest confession of love he’s ever heard. And it’s from King Steve, about a boy that humbled him so bad he drop-kicked his crown straight across the country.
Steve catches him staring and shuts his mouth with a click. Everything has a washed, gray tinge to it, but he swears his cheeks flush.
“I’m rambling,” he laughs, looking slightly panicked. “I was just trying to say that Nancy and I don’t fit together. Not like that. I don’t really know if we ever did.”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, “I’m starting to see why.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he squeaks. Well, in for a penny, out for a pond, right? He’s already in hell, might as well try and sus Harrington out while he’s at it. “Just…Byers? Really?”
“I don’t—“
“Didn’t he kick your ass?”
“Not you too!” Steve groans. “I already got the third degree from Robin. I was asking for that beatdown. Shit, some of the stuff I said was so nasty it makes me want to take a shower when I think of it.”
His eyebrows fly up at how easily he’d given up denial. “Gotta say, I didn’t think he’d be King Steve’s type.”
“He—I—he’s not—“ he stammers. Never mind, then. Denial still firmly in place.
At least until Steve lets out a sigh. “I don’t know why I’m trying to deny it. I can see that hanky in your pocket.”
Eddie’s eyes widen innocently. “Oh, this?” He asks, tugging it a bit for emphasis. It stays firmly in place, because he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pin it. He learned after the first three he lost to miscellaneous chaos.
“Don’t play dumb, that’s my job,” Steve complains. “Shit, I can’t believe I said all that. That’s fucking embarrassing.”
“I mean, I just tried to get you to win back your ex-girlfriend when you’re in love with her boyfriend,” Eddie says mildly. “I feel like we’re both embarrassed here.”
Steve’s flush would be visible from outer space. “I’m not in love with him.”
“Who are you trying to convince here?”
“I’m not!” He protests. “Like, yeah, I used to be, but I’ve moved on. Firmly moved on. I love him in the same way I love Nancy, you know? Like, she’s the first person I ever loved, and he made me realize that I like both. They’re always going to be part of me. But I’m not in love with him anymore.”
Eddie’s heart takes off without his permission.
“Don’t tell Lucas,” she pleads.
“I won’t,” Steve promises.
Max hesitates.
“You don’t have to tell me if—“
“I’ve been having Nightmares.”
Eddie sucks in a breath.
“What?” Steve sounds…shit, there’s not a way to describe how broken Steve’s voice is with just those four words.
“Ever since Billy died,” Max says. “I can’t…it’s Vecna. I know it is. He gets me.”
“Max, why wouldn’t you tell us? We could have—“
“I thought it would be easier,” she tells him, voice cracking. “If I just pulled away, I thought maybe it would hurt less when I finally go. And I think—I think I wanted to—“
She cuts off with a sob, and Eddie’s heart fucking shatters.
“Max,” Steve says helplessly.
“I’m sorry,” she cries. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and I’m sorry I haven’t been here, and I’m sorry for thinking I wanted to die but Steve I don’t, I don’t, I’m not ready to go. I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to, Steve, I don’t know what to do—“
Steve pulls her into his chest. She curls her fingers into his shirt, and he meets Eddie’s eyes over her head. Eddie sees tears streaking down his face before he ducks his head back down.
“I’m here, Max,” Steve promises. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay? I’ll do everything I can to fix this. You just keep that Walkman on.”
She nods into his shoulder, still crying. It’s violent, her sobs shaking her entire body. She looks smaller every time Eddie sees her, like she’s retreating into herself, and now she looks tiny. Looks all her fifteen years, clinging to the only adult in the vicinity she trusts like he’s her lifeline. And Eddie sees the resolve settle on Steve’s face, knows without a doubt that he’s going to do something stupid.
“Yes, we do,” Max says quietly. Even from here, Eddie can see her trembling.
“No,” Steve says. “No, no, no, no, no.”
She’s got a whole plan though. Outlines it with steel in her voice, confident enough that everyone nods along. If Eddie didn’t know better, he’d believe in it too.
Steve looks damn near apocalyptic. “Max,” he says through gritted teeth, “can I talk to you in the other room?”
Lucas stands up with her, but Steve stops him with a look. Still, he doesn’t sit back down until Max puts a hand on his arm.
“It’s just Steve,” she tells him quietly. “We just need a minute.”
No one says anything as they close the door to Max’s room behind them. A deafening click of the latch in the silence.
As soon as the door is closed, Dustin and Erica have their ears pressed to the wood. Chrissy isn’t far behind.
“Guys,” Nancy hisses, even as she creeps closer, “really?”
“This should be a private conversation,” Robin whispers, wringing her hands as Lucas tiptoes across the room to join them. “Like, you know how Steve gets about you munchkins, obviously he wouldn’t take this well. Honestly, I’m not taking this well, and I’m not your guy's babysitter-slash-big brother-slash-dad. But it’s the best plan we’ve got, unless we want to just let Vecna-slash-Henry-slash-One to give up and find his fourth victim somewhere else and we wouldn’t know who it was and then he really will open the gates and kill everyone we know—“
She’s shushed by four different people.
Eddie gives in, crossing the room as silently as he can to join their little eavesdropping party. Robin follows him.
“—said you weren’t ready,” Steve is snapping, voice barely muffled through the door. Thank God for shitty trailer soundproofing. “I told you all you had to do was keep the goddamn Walkman on, and that’s what you’re going to do! We’ll find another way.”
“There is no other way, Steve!” There’s a light thump that Eddie thinks might be the stomping of a foot. “It’s our only shot at winning this. It has to be me.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“What are we gonna do? Wait for him to target someone else? Wait for them to die, because I was too selfish? Because I’m a fucking coward?”
“Yes!” Steve hisses, clear as day. Their little group of eavesdroppers look at each other with wide eyes. “Fuck, Max, if that’s what it fucking takes to keep you alive. He’ll find another target—“
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“I’m not letting you die on my watch, Mayfield. I’m not letting you die, period.”
Max sounds close to pulling her hair out. “You’re not letting me do jack shit. I know the risks. I’m willing to do what it takes.”
Eddie’s heart twists. Jesus, she’s a fucking kid. He’s with Steve, on this one.
“Well I’m not,” Steve replies harshly. “And if those guys out there knew, they wouldn’t be so gung-ho about it either. You know damn well if you told them you were having Nightmares—“
Dustin loses his balance, and falls on the floor with a thud that seems to echo in the sudden silence that follows. Everyone freezes.
When Steve opens the door, he’s glowering. Eddie can’t help but notice the tears in his eyes.
“Seriously?” He demands.
“You’re having Nightmares?” Lucas asks Max, heartbroken.
Max’s face is thundering. “That was a private conversation.”
“If you wanted privacy, maybe you should have better soundproofing,” Dustin snarks. “We could have heard you from the living room.”
“Sorry for assuming we didn’t have to ask after closing the goddamn door,” Steve growls.
Max pushes past them all, heading straight for the back door.
“Max, wait—“
“Max!”
“Hold on—“
Steve starts after her, stopping them all in their tracks with a glare when they try to follow. He doesn’t say anything, just lets out a derisive huff before slamming the door shut behind him.
They stand there, crowded in the tiny hallway, frozen.
“I think we may have fudged that one up,” Robin says quietly. No one disagrees with her.
By the time they come back inside, everyone else is scavenging for apology food. Max is wiping her eyes, and Steve’s hands shake like he needs a cigarette.
“I’m the bait,” Steve announces. No preamble, no room for debate, just laying it down and expecting everyone to go along with it.
Obviously, he was hoping for too much given the kids they hang out with.
“Will that even work?” Erica scrunches her nose.
“Yes.”
“Wanna elaborate on that?” Robin asks quietly, moving into his space. He gives her a look, but lets her close the distance between them until she’s taking his arm and dragging him to the couch. He sits obediently, and Max immediately moves to the side Robin’s not on, leaving a bit of distance between them like she wants to be close but is scared to touch.
“Nope.”
“How do we even know if it’ll work?” Dustin asks. “You can’t just decide Vecna will go for you instead, that’s not how it works. That’s not how any of this works.”
“He’s right, Steve,” Nancy says apologetically. She backtracks at Steve’s deadly look. “Obviously, we won’t use Max anymore if she’s having Nightmares, but we have no way of knowing if Henry will come for you.”
“I could do it,” Chrissy offers quietly. Bile floods Eddie’s mouth, and he swallows it back with his protests. “He might still come for me, since I was cursed.”
“You’re not cursed anymore,” Steve reminds her. “You don’t even need the Walkman. Plus, he wants someone El knows. We don’t know that he’d come for you.”
“We don’t know that he’d come for you, either,” Lucas says.
“He will.”
“He will,” Max affirms quietly. When Eddie looks at her, she’s staring at her own hands.
“How do you know?” Erica asks.
“Because I had my first vision while we were outside,” Steve says.
That shuts them up.
They’re distracted by Robin standing up abruptly enough to knock over her chair, yelling something incomprehensible at Steve about his “stupid box,” and where he can shove it, whatever that means, and storming off. Steve stays sitting exactly where he is, head down, looking defeated.
Eddie and Dustin exchange startled glances.
Chrissy creeps up to Steve cautiously. “Are you going to go after her?”
He shakes his head. When he raises it, Eddie notices his eyes are rimmed red. “You should,” he mumbles. “You’d probably help more than I would, right now.”
She nods and slips away. Eddie sends Dustin in the Sinclair’s direction, and plops down in Robin’s empty seat.
“She not doing too hot with all this?”
Steve grimaces. “I told her where my will is.”
“Ah,” Eddie says, genuinely at a loss for words. “Well, fuck.”
“Yeah.”
“You not leave her anything?” It’s a shit joke, one that he kicks himself for making, but he laughs. It’s hoarse and cold and all too fake, but it’s a laugh.
“Like, almost everything I have. To be divided as she sees fit.”
“Making her do all that? No wonder she’s pissed.”
Steve’s snort is real this time.
#prophetic nightmares of the dead au#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#chrissy cunningham#steddie#how does chrissy survive vecna? i was going to figure that out#i think my original plan for this was some robin/chrissy as well or maybe nancy/chrissy/robin#btw that jancy speech that steve gave? biased as FUCK#when they got together steve convinced himself it was inevitable bc they're obviously made for each other#in reality they have reached granola bar levels of falling apart#eddie who has outsider pov to the whole thing and can see nancy twitch every time someone mentions her bf is like hmm. doesn't sound right#but i don't know enough about either of them to dispute it#steve gets vecna-ed
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HII just wanna let u know i cant stop thinking abt poppy and sally (and laughingstock ofc) and its ur fault!!! i love them sm!! ur brain is huge!!
!!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!!!!
#and may i reiterate: HOLY SHIT!!!!#1) you're welcome. pleased to have you here in obscurepair hell#2) dude your art is soooooo fucking Scrumptious#i had to double check to make sure that who was in my inbox was Really In My Inbox hellooooooooooooo hi hi hi#your franklydear is Top Tier#NOT TO MENTION YOUR DRAG EDDIE ART MY GODDDDDDDD i swoon every time i see it#your art is just very.... i am missing the word rn so just. its very Yes. id like to eat it. the colors. the softness. expressive. yeah#anyway now that ive bled out all over your floor#or. its my own floor? this is my blog... well there's blood everywhere. Ignore That#THANKS FOR THE FREE POPSTAR MEAL#poppy doin the hen thing and practically brooding on sally is Everything to me now thank you thank you#rambles from the bog#offerings to the bog#i will be coming back to Gaze at this ask!!!!#'kys' 'shes joking' 'im not' i will admit. i snorted
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why are so many adventure time fans just straight up stupid. about how stories work. and i dont even mean kids i mean like adult fans just with the absolutely dumbest takes
#i was watching a streamer react to f&c which ok i admit i brought this upon myself#but oh my godddddd#''i think farmworld finn's wife was pb'' even ignoring that one of his kids looks exactly like human huntress wizard WHAT#WHY IN THE HELL WOULD THAT BE TRUE. AFTER THEYVE SPENT S I X S E A S O N S SHOWING WHY PBXFINN COULD NEVER BE A THING#LITERALLY SEVERAL SEASONS SHOWING 1-PB WILK NEVER LIKE FINN BACK THEY ARE INCOMPATIBLE 2-FINN HAS MOVED ON HE HAS ACCEPTED THAT AND GOTTEN#OVER HIS CHILDHOOD LOVE ON HER AND ONLY AFTER THAT THEY WERE ABLE TO FORM A FRIENDSHIP#THATS LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN THINGS OF THE SHOW#WHY THE FUCK WOULD THEY TAKE THAT BACK AND MAKE HIM HAVE FUCKING KIDS WITH HER IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE?????????#''did prismo just die in the end of episode 4??? oh no what a mystery'' oh yeah dude they totally killed off one of the most important#characters in like 5 seconds with almost no ceremony. without even acknowledging it. thats totally how character deaths work#this is totally plausible#''what the fuck im gonna get so mad of simon actually becomes ice king again'' ARE YOU STUPIDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD#HAVE YOU NEVER HEARD OF ''CREATING A CONFLICT AND THEN RESOLVING IT''#HOLY FUCKING SHIT#sorry this is making me go insane a little bit.#adventure time#fionna and cake#every time i see some guy mention pbxfinn and a thing that could have happened i fly into a rage. you are so fucking stupid. you have the#mental capabilities of a child. never open your mouth again.#as a thing* that could have happened
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♟️ unholy
#:3 .... we love chess metaphors over here#more in the “hero playing kinger for a fool underneath his own nose” saga#or. more or less just the “hero fucking hates the monarchy” saga#same thing#(insert tf2 spy gif)#thats literally pretty much whats going on with him and i love every second of it#the amazing digital circus#tadc hero#the amazing digital carnival#carnival au#MY ASS AINT IGNORING THE FACT THAT SM TOLD ME IM RIGHT BTW. IM RUNNING WITH THIS SHIT BOYYYYYY#MORE HERO STUFF ON THE HORIZON REGICIDE CRUSADE MY BELOVEDSSS‼️‼️‼️‼️#so far goose is the only one whos mentioned and found the symbolic details :3#see if you can too viewer<3#if you can ill give you a cookie🪤
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in light of the news that riot games is letting go 11% of their workers (over 500 people), including long time workers responsible for big parts of the best lore in the entire league ip, AND cutting down LoR AND abandoning Riot Forge (the best idea they had in years lol)-
i stopped playing league a long time ago for multiple reasons, but one of the big ones were my annoyance with the increasingly shit ass monetization (thats only getting WORSE and MORE exploitative) and my frustration with its constant boring ass design decisions (like every new champ being either sexy girly girl that looks like all of the rest of them or sexy guy thats also starting to have the same problem plus all skins putting female champs in just another dress no matter how monsterfied the male champs were-) with my only interest in it being the lore and the attachment i felt to certain characters
im not even really interested in arcane anymore .. i was looking forward to it bc i like fortiches work alot but given how riot immedaitely wanted to make it canon (a dumb and stupid idea) after the first season was successful, which already made it less enjoyable for me, this is just ... idk, what does it matter
these news together with how bafflingly badly written totk was and its subpar quality (especialyl for that PRICE) that made me fear the future of loz yet it was still wildly sucessful (we deserve better than this!!), the recent commercial success of the plagiarism pokemon slavery/trafficking game and the general situation of the games industry, with AI rampant and CEOs sucking it up to shareholders only, constant massive lay offs everywhere in every studio
i have little hope left there will be new, good, games from big studios .. what an exhausting shitty world we live in
#ganondoodles talks#random#personal#save me good indie games#good indie games....#good indie games save me ..#im well aware that there are more important things than video games#but this just adds to the oeverall exhausting feeling of everything everywhere in every industry and every part of the world getting worse#like fuck#cant soemthing good be happening for once#maybe less death and destruction#both literally and in an artistical sense#genuinely not looking forward to anything anymore#im not gonna dare to hope for a new good loz game bc hell it will be years and totk was a grim view into the future of the franchise#i dont want to be disappointed like this again-#i wanna mention again that i set my expectation extremely low for totk- all i wanted was a sequel to botw- or just a good game#and my god was it not#dont try to argue with me#im angry and tired
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happy 3rd birthday to the hottest thing bastille has ever done anyone but me x nightmares (24.08.2020)
#mine#bastille#i talk about bastille all the time irl but mentions of blond dan will not pass my lips#i am boygenius not strong enough#to this day i do not understand it#i dont usually like blond guys and hes basically wearing an emo hawaiian shirt#but ive seen this video so many times and every time i end up blushing and smiling to myself like a fucking teenager LORD#someones commented something like 'great cover dan has no sex appeal' on the youtube vid#and like first of all what a thing to comment absolutely hilarious#second like fair ig each to their own but like THIS is the video you chose to comment that on????#anyway anyone but me x nightmares u will always be famous lives were truly changed forever#i hope that one day u will be allowed on oph so we can have u on spotify#i am once again asking rockstille album when also like maybe dan should just bleach his hair again for it#idk would that be such a bad thing while were out here brainstorming just throwing some ideas out into the universe nothing serious idk
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#this instagram user is insane. could you imagine scrolling through your entire book every time you want to make edits on your google doc#EDIT: i should mention that this entire thing is still being worked on. they werr mid-sentence mid-scene when google stopped them.#i have no fucking clue how much longer theyre planning it to be but theyre definitely not done.#anis gaymer moments
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2023 reads
The Deep Sky
scifi mystery thriller
on a deep space mission traveling from an environmentally devastated earth with hope to restart humanity elsewhere
when they’re halfway, an explosion kills 3 crew and pushes them off course
the only witness is the Alternate who has no specific role, and she has to figure out who caused it & if they might continue to sabotage, while they're figuring out a way to get back on course with limited resources
flips between present and the past: of her childhood and training for the mission, her identity struggles, and relationship with her mother
questions the ethics of ‘restarting’ humanity elsewhere vs putting resources into fixing earth
#the deep sky#yume kitasei#aroaessidhe 2023 reads#i really loved this!!!!!#very intense but also a lot of interesting character introspection#love the virtual reality AI aspect!!!! though I do feel like. in the end I was expecting it to go way further with it?#(basically like instead of seeing the inside of the ship all the time they can 'be' in forests or aquariums or whatever)#no romance#(there’s side lesbians; and one flashback scene where she briefly wonders about kissing a random person; that's it)#emotional core about her mother and brother and best friend !!#i like that it gets into the flaws of 'humanity's last hope on another planet' bc like. yeah in real life things....don't work like that...#why is there zero acknowledgement that the concept of every one of them being expected to give birth being extremely fucked up?#like obviously everyone on board is there because they agreed with that but there’s not a single flashback of#when they found out that information; or mention of someone questioning it...#(for example a character mentions that they hid their mental health/use of a therapy animal bc they wouldn't have been let in and the -#eugenics around that is iffy to say the least)#but to me. pregnancy is horrifying and nobody questioning that was weird.#also there’s supposedly 80 people on board but we get to know less than 10 of them which felt a bit strange at points#Also! I love the cover. I can’t find the designer (the book info only credits the internal lllustrator..)#also: bird facts!
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ddcds. for u (hopefully ur day will b a bit better!)
had to take a second to respond to this because dear GOD this made me lose coherent thoughts. ahem
#asks#ddcd#i. i want to start up a good feral tag ramble but the only thing i can think of is to break down wailing /pos#my friend. beloved acquaintance of mine. you canNOT keep doing this one day you will fuckinf kill me of heart attack on the spot#i keep stepping away from this every couple minutes i haven’t felt this much emotions in eons. please have the courtesy to picture-#-my tone as that of soft awe. i am barely forming comprehensible sentences out here dear god#i’d also like to mention that i am in love with how you draw carapace. it all flows very smoothly and feels correct in an indescribable-#fuck the tumblr tag limit#-sort of manner.#your expressions are immaculate and manage to perfectly encapsulate these two#just. everything in general makes me even more fascinated with. well. [gestures abstractly]#please be ever so kind as to excuse me while i yell into a pillow for half an hour. i will be delivering you all of my money-#-as compensation for this on the morrow. thank you#fave
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i think things need to stop keep happening to me one after the other after the other RIGHT NOW
#secret life#trafficblr#life series#hlvrai#hl2vrai#hlvrai2#brbvrai#bbvrai#homestuck#june egbert#hsbc#im not tagging every variation of that#hlvraii#<objectively funniest name for it but i dont think itll gain traction#did i mention ive had strep throat all week#edit:#anyways the one thing in common with all of these events is the fucking discourse#brbvrai is self explsnatory (being fakeout)#secret life is just. not really discourse but the fuckin. arbitrary arguments over curses and celestial bodies which is.. all metaphorical#please let it be metaphorical guys#and june discourse is chill now but hsbc in general is just. the pits for it.#double edit: i actually think ranboos omori stream right after i finished my secret life povs and right before i moved over to brbvrai#contributed to this#not sure in what way but it definitely contributed#myart
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motherfucker (affectionate) (derogatory)
#rgg#ryu ga gotoku#ryu ga gotoku 7#yakuza series#yakuza like a dragon#yakuza 7#jo sawashiro#snap sketches#quick break from comms cause if i dont draw my favorite disasterpiece old man i just might explode#every day i think of his cunty lil arms-crossed-hip-jutted-while-smirking pose cause it makes me giggle#like cut to ten cutscenes down the line and hes The Most Kicked Dog man ive ever seen. actual peak comedy#also i am using a different brush hi. im testing things#ok bye i should eat cause i have to make a phonecall in like. thirty minutes LMAOOO FUCK--#oh before i forget. Obligatory Lips Mention like at this point its so illegal to Not draw them but i also know whenever ttm smiles#theyre literally just gone they literally vanish. its actually magical#ok bye a blt has my name on it
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