somebody told me (fratboy!steve harrington x fem!reader)
summary: steve has made it very clear that he doesn’t want you. but he doesn’t want anyone else to have you either.
uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.
i want your things in my room (part one)
the library
record store
tags: angst, mean!steve, so much tension, yeah the football player is tim riggins in my mind and so what?! i literally wrote this months ago, enjoy <3
"heaven ain't close in a place like this"
— somebody told me, the killers
may 1st, 2009
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
It came hissed in the doorway between the second floor fraternity steps and the sticky wood paneled wall. Steve hovered above you, breath sour with beer and a new bottle dripping condensation through the hand dangling at his side. His eyes were slanted and directed down at your eyes watching him in surprise.
30 seconds ago, he cornered you against the wall after your swift trip to the bathroom. You caught eyes with him across the kitchen nearly an hour ago, and it took all this time of carefully scanning your movements when you weren’t looking for Steve to get you away from the junior you came with.
“What are you talking about?” you laughed. “It’s a party.”
“I didn’t invite you.”
You swallowed, trying not to let your good-natured grin drop. You were well aware that Steve didn’t invite you.
After he practically ran from your bedroom two weeks ago, things went radio silent between you and Steve. You texted, he didn’t answer. You called once, thought about leaving a voicemail, and spent a whole weekend crying when you realized: he didn’t want you. Someone who wants you doesn’t flee your room the way he did that night.
You were perfectly content wallowing in your idiocy for ever thinking Steve Harrington could have a special spot for you in his tiny, shriveled heart—until said junior you were attending tonight’s party with saw you at the dining hall.
You were studying late into the evening, sitting all alone at a table near the fireplace with your books sprawled out and your picked-at dinner in scraps. He came staggering in with a band of other men, all sweaty and half-dressed from practice. He was a linebacker on the football team, and he looked damn good easing into the chair across from you and making it squeak.
His name was Tim and he had a handsome smile, and a slow way of talking in this Texan drawl that had you blushing. For the ten minutes he sat and talked to you and asked you what you were so focused on, you forgot all about Steve.
You texted for a week, grabbed a few lunches and coffees together, and now here you were. At a frat party, invited not by Steve—but Tim.
“I know that,” you told Steve, pulling your arms up to fold them over your chest. Steve’s eyes flashed down to your breasts cupped under a black lace bra peeking through a red shirt.
“I came with Tim.”
Steve screwed up his nose, pulling back a little. “Tim? Tim who?”
Huffing, you pushed yourself off the wall and pressed Steve back by the shoulder. “Tim, Steve. Now, excuse me, but I’m gonna go find him—“
“No, hey.”
Steve snatched you by the elbow, causing you to fumble on the carpeting and narrowly miss someone heading up the steps. You gasped, stumbling into Steve still against the wall.
“Steve, what the hell?”
“‘m not done talkin’ to you.”
You glared at him, wrenching your arm away with force. “I don’t care.”
You rushed down the steps before he could speak again, head suddenly swollen with confusion, heart pounding hard in your chest. He hadn’t touched you in weeks. Hadn’t spoken to you, looked at you, so much as acknowledged you since the last time he was inside you.
All it took to get his attention was to finally attempt to move on? It was bullshit. It made your cheeks flame and your mouth line with sweetness that made your stomach coil. It wasn’t fair.
“Hey.” That soft Texan drawl called to you.
You raised your head from where you were glaring at the floor, softening when they found Tim’s green gaze. He grinned at you, still holding your red plastic cup from earlier. You retrieved it from him and allowed yourself to tuck into his side under the weight of his arm.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” you told him. “Long bathroom line.”
Steve stepped into the fluorescents of the kitchen, weaving his way through bodies with wide, squared shoulders. He tossed a quick glance your way and shook his head as he made his way through the room. And what pissed you off most was the fact that he thought he had the right. The right to be upset, the right to think anything of you.
“Baby, you look so pretty in that lil’ top,” Tim said, tipping his chin down to you with a lopsided grin. He was a few beers in and loopy.
You grinned. “Do I?”
“Mhm. Real pretty—come gimme a kiss.”
You perked up on your toes to meet his mouth. His lips were always warm and soft and soaked in beer. Lord, college boys drank a lot. If you closed your eyes and forgot where you were, sometimes he even tasted like Steve.
But Tim always called you baby, and Tim always called you back. He walked you to class with your books in his arms and a hand on your waist, opened the door for you, and helped you into his truck when he took you for coffee.
And Steve? Steve acted like you didn’t exist if his dick wasn’t inside you.
Your tongue was just slipping past Tim’s teeth when you were torn apart by force. Tim stumbled aside, knocking you as he went and catching you quickly with a hand on your waist. Both your heads turned sharply toward the assailant.
Steve stood near the island where Tim had previously been, holding a bottle of beer and a look of nonchalance. His eyes glided from Tim’s look of surprise to your absolute glare.
“Sorry about that,” Steve said coolly. “Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
Tim resumed his spot beside you, and your body felt like it was vibrating against his. Every part of you was burning—and you couldn’t tell from what. Anger? Humiliation? Arousal? Maybe all three. You swallowed with difficulty and let Tim pull you in again. But your eyes never left Steve’s.
And his never widened from their slits. The ball of muscle near his jaw bone knotted when he clenched his teeth and it didn’t move.
“You okay, baby?” Tim’s attention was on you, and you looked away from Steve to smile at your date.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
The footballer had an easier lightness to him. Breezy, taking things with a grain of salt. He didn’t bother fighting Steve for his ‘mistake.’ He didn’t scold him for knocking you. He only smiled at you with a pair of pretty dimples and kissed the top of your head, arm bending around your shoulders.
“Wanna get outta here?”
Because he’d be going home with you. And it only took Tim a few moments to deduce that it was that fact alone that would drive Steve crazy. Even if you couldn’t.
You nodded, hand rubbing over his chest. You spared one more glance toward Steve, who had stepped away toward the other side of the kitchen with slow, slithering steps. He took a swig of his beer and clenched his teeth on the swallow.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
Tim held your hand on the way out, guiding you down the front steps and toward the street. Your arms swung over the pavement, and you almost felt compelled to check if Steve was watching. What the hell was wrong with you?
“So what was that?”
You peered up from the pavement to Tim’s green eyes. “What?”
He cocked his head back at the brightly-lit house dimming behind you. The music faded the further you went. He was still wearing that dimpled grin.
“Back there, with that guy.”
You inhaled, looking back toward your feet. It only took a few moments to decide that you didn’t want to lie.
“We…used to hookup. But it’s completely over, I swear.” You skirted to a stop, gathering Tim’s other hand and meeting his eye again. “He’s just being a dick about it.”
He snorted. “I sort of got that when he came from across the room to ram into me.”
A giggle burst from your mouth, but it drooped into a frown. “I’m sorry.”
Tim frowned, brows creasing. “For what? You don’t got nothin’ t’ be sorry for, pretty girl.”
The warmth pulsing in your chest you could certainly make sense of now. “Okay.”
He grinned again, dropping one of your hands to squeeze your chin affectionately. “Okay. Come on.”
You walked the rest of the way to your apartment with his heavy arm over your shoulders again. And Steve watched from the front seat of his car, knowing exactly where he was going as he peeled away from the curb.
✶ ✶
“Alright, goodnight, little lady.”
“Goodnight, Tim.”
Your voices were punctuated by the slam of a door. Quick footsteps followed, a rhythmic succession ascending the staircase. Over the creaky board on the other side of the door, then—
“What the fuck?”
It burst open to a streak of lamplight in your bedroom and one Steve Harrington shadowing it at the foot of your bed. He had your university football teddy bear in his hands. It was a gift from Tim and it had his number on the bear’s soft yellow t-shirt.
Steve leapt to his feet. “What are you doing?”
You couldn’t seem to close your mouth. It hung open as you watched Steve raise his brows and jerk his chin expectantly. He tossed his arms out on either side.
“Huh?”
You came to your senses with a hard blink. “What am I doing? What the hell are you doing? How did you get in here?”
“Same way I always get in,” he quipped.
Heat touched your cheeks as you stepped into the room and gently clamped the door shut. You snatched the teddy bear from his hand and placed it back on your desk silently. Your purse fell to the floor where you were standing.
“You didn’t answer me. What the fuck are you doing?”
“Is this about the party or Tim?” You kicked your shoes off one by one, keeping your back to Steve and his stupidly pretty face.
You had such a soft spot for pretty boys, it seemed.
“You know what? Both.”
“Okay,” you sighed, pulling the first layer of your outfit off. Steve’s eyes scanned the lace of your tank top as red fabric made its way toward the hamper. “Tim and I are seeing each other. Tim wanted to go to the party, which happened to be at your frat—alas, there we were.”
The mattress springs yipped when you bounced on the edge to pull a clean pair of socks on. You wanted to strip your jeans, too, but you didn’t want to give Steve any ideas. He was already standing there with his arms crossed and his biceps and chest all puffed and sculpted. He already had that handsome pink tinge to his cheeks: his beer blush.
“Well, it’s weird,” Steve stated.
You rolled your eyes, exhaling a snicker. “Okay, Steve. Can you leave now? I’m tired.”
Steve tapped his finger on his arm, watching you shift on the bed and feign exhaustion. He chewed his cheek for a minute before reaching for his hair.
“Well…you know I missed you, right, sweetheart?”
He dropped his hands and softened his eyes into that soft, puppy-dog pout. Your scoff was sharp and sliced through the room. Steve stepped toward the bed.
“Right.”
“No, really,” he urged, sinking into the mattress before you. “You know I was just made president, and I just got super busy, that’s all. I meant to call you.”
You tipped your head at him and stared directly into those faux-pleading hazels. "How come everything you say to me sounds like a line, Steve?"
Steve sat unblinking for a moment. Then his cheeks colored a rosy shade, and he covered it with a cruel scoff and another sweep of his hair.
"What? Come on, you-you know I like you."
You pushed off the bed, head shaking. That warmth was slowly but surely returning to your body in violent form. You pulled your hair off your neck and padded toward the window to open it. Your room already smelled too much like Steve.
"You like playing with me," you corrected, keeping your back to him even as the mattress shrieked with his freed weight.
"You know, you're such a bitch-"
You spun around, shoving him by the chest. Steve stumbled a step back, but the smirk on his face made you regret even touching him at all.
"Get out."
"Hell no," he bit, lunging back into place. He grabbed at your arm again. "You think Tim wants you either? You think he doesn't just like playing with you? You always gave it up so easy."
Tears bubbled in the edges of your eyes. A tingling burn settled in the bridge of your nose. You shoved at him again and angled your head away from him and his sneering scowl and beer breath.
"Fuck you, Steve."
“You’re trying to replace me? Hmm?” Steve cocked his head to meet your eye, and you wished you could will away the hot tear trickling down your cheek. “That’s fine, sweetheart. I’ve got ten of you in my pocket.”
He shoved your arm away with a scowl, and you sniffled as he headed toward the door. All the hot-headed, enraged words pulsing on your tongue shriveled and died—and they were replaced with a hurt and heartbreak that was so familiar it was almost comfortable.
Yet as he opened your bedroom door, you rubbed your arm where he had held you and sniffled.
“Stay away from me, Steve.”
Door in hand, Steve turned and scoffed at you. “No problem.”
✶ ✶
You spent the next hour crying between makeup wipes and playing your radio on low. Pulled a faded grey t-shirt from your pajama drawer and tried not to look at Steve’s face rumpled at the bottom on a white t-shirt. Why hadn’t you thrown it away? He was so hard to let go.
With the football bear cradled to your chest, you wiggled under the covers and reached for the lamp. Your phone buzzed consecutively on the nightstand, causing pause. The plastic clicked on its hinges as it flipped open, and the sheets rustled when you shot up in bed.
u up?
tim is a fckn l0ser
answer
i’m sorry
The first time he called, you didn’t answer. You watched the small square light up with his name, felt the plastic shake in your palm with the force of its ring.
answer
Another call. You pressed the green button, but waited.
“Hello? Hey-hello?” His faded voice brought you from your daze.
You pressed the phone to your ear. “Hello?”
“Jesus, do you not read your texts?”
“Wh-what…why are you calling me?” Disbelief colored every syllable from your mouth.
Steve huffed. “I just…how much do you really know about this Tim guy?”
You looked at the bear sitting on your lap against the sheets. “About as much as I know about you, Steve.”
The line buzzed with quiet for a while. You played with the hem of the teddy bear’s shirt and gnawed on your lip. An ache balled in your chest when the thought of him hanging up occurred to you.
“Fair,” he said quietly.
Sighing, you shimmied under the covers again and reclined back against the headboard.
“Why are you calling me, Steve?” This time it was softer. You couldn’t give in to him anymore, but you had to hear him out. He never called you like this.
He never acted like he cared until now.
“Just…don’t wanna see you get hurt.”
You scoffed, pressing your palm against your head. Despite the way your heart pulsed with excitement, and the way your nerves locked up at the thought—you knew Steve didn’t mean any of it. He was just jealous. He wanted you as his personal plaything and he didn’t like to share.
You couldn’t swallow it anymore. You couldn’t keep biting your tongue to stay the perfect toy in hopes he might see you as more.
You had to end it.
“You already took care of that, Steve.”
You reveled in the buzzing silence of the other line for a beat.
“Goodnight,” you told him.
And you hung up the phone.
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just a friend final
Pairing: college!fwb!abby Anderson x reader
tags:@macaroni676 @vqxen @grey-jedi12
A/N: this is the final part :( I’ve gain sm support I’m grateful also this isn’t proofread I’ll be going back on all the parts editing ! <3
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A month went by, and those three words continued to echo in Abby's brain . She felt the urge to contact you and make things right, to find out if you truly meant what you said. Yet, she struggled with the idea of confronting you after walking away like that. So, she decided that silence was the safest option, or at least the best choice for her.
She carried on with her life as if nothing had changed, focusing on soccer, her studies, and even finding time for jade, which brung comments from the group. Nora and Dina held her responsible for your absence from the friend group.
"You didn’t see my call? I tried calling you tree times. " Abby asked Nora as she approached the group's table in the dining hall,
"I did, but I was with y/n. You know she doesn't really like you much since you broke her heart." Nora clarified going back to her meal, causing Abby to click her tongue in annoyance.
“That’s not fair Nora.” Manny, speaking with his strong accent "You can't keep bringing this up; it's none of our business what happened with them."
The group genuinely made an effort to avoid interfering in you and Abby’s relationship , and Abby knew this. She felt as though she had caused a divide within the group. Abby understood just how much Dina and Nora valued you.
“She’s our friend.” Dina added in “ it’s kind of hard to mind our business.”
“Whatever.” Manny mumbled sliding his headphones back over his ears .
“Okay, abs it’s been a month just tell us what happened .” Jesse suggested and Abby sent him a look throwing his hands up “or not.”
“You or y/n won’t tell us, how bad can it be.” Ellie chimed in, Abby shook her head grabbing her backpack from beside her
“I promised jade id meet her after , her class I gotta go.”
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Abby laid in bed scrolling through your Instagram story, replaying the story where your face appeared the most in them. She felt a deep longing for you, and it took all her strength to resist the urge to reach out.
She slid up on one of the stories, typing "beautiful" with heart eyes. Biting her lip, she moved her thumb to the arrow to send the message. When the person resting on her chest shifted, causing her to glanced down.
She glanced at Jade with a sigh, erased the message she had written and tossed her phone aside, pulling the girl in closer. This is what she wanted to settle for.
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The day had went on and Abby spent the whole day on campus, something she rarely did, hoping to bump into you, but so far, she hadn’t had any luck.
She exited the library, deciding to stop looking for you. And just send you a text something she should’ve been done. As she took out her phone to send you a message, her gaze landed on the recognizable tote bag you always had with you.
“y/n ?.” Abby's voice came out gently, tinged with uncertainty. You paused briefly, clutching the straps of your bag tightly, then forced yourself to look away and continue walking, your heart racing. It felt as though it was thumping outside your chest.
“Y/n wait, let me talk to you.” Abby called out as she jogged behind you, trying to close the gap, reaching for your arm in a bid to slow you down.
“What do you want, Abby?" you snapped, pulling your arm away from her. She stared at you, starting to say something but then stopping before the words could escape.
"Can we have a conversation?" she said softly, moving closer to you. You let out a scoff and shook your head in response.
“talk.”
"can we go to my place? I don’t think we should talk here."She proposed, glancing at the couple that strolled by,
You felt the need to keep your distance, saying, “I can’t; I have other plans.” You did your best to maintain a cold demeanor, but her expression softened you. Finally, you gave in and suggested, “How about this weekend? I’m free then.”
"Sure, that sounds good to me," she said, and you nodded uncomfortably as you walked past her. She turned to watch you as you moved away.
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The week had flown by, and at last, the weekend was here. Abby sat on her couch, anxiously waiting for you , repeatedly glancing at her phone to see if you had sent her a message. Ever since that day she saw you, you had occupied her thoughts completely.
A gentle knock on the door caught her attention, causing her to turn quickly. She got up, brushing her hands against her sweatpants. As she paced back and forth in front of the door, she contemplated what to say when she saw you. Finally, she approached the door, nodded, and pulled it open.
“Hi.” You entered quietly, and as you shifted to the side, you felt a bit out of place. You stood there, feeling awkward, while she maneuvered around you to shut the door.
You both stood quietly, exchanging glances that felt heavy and awkward. The silence stretched on, making the moment feel even more uncomfortable. Finally, Abby suggested that you take a seat, but you turned her down; you had no intention of staying there for too long.
“ you look good.” Her words made you let out a frustrated sigh. “Is this really what you wanted to talk about ?”
“No, I ju- how have you’ve been ?”
“Abby.” You expressed your frustration by saying, “I could be spending my time on something better.”
She stepped closer to you “I wanna say, that I’m sorry for how I left things off.”
“Your sorry ?” You nearly laughed, but it felt empty, weighed down by the pain you had kept inside. “Is that all you can say? Just ‘I’m sorry’?” Your voice trembled.
Abby paused for a moment, searching for the right words to convey her thoughts to you. She slipped her hands into her pockets, attempting to steady her nerves.
“I was scared and i didn’t know your intentions. It was natural for me to protect myself, I wasn't sure how to handle it.”
You froze as you let the words sink in, “you could’ve just talked to me.”
“I know, and I really do care for you and I’m sorry I’ll spend everyday making it up to you.” She spoke closing the gap in between the two of you.
“I should go.” You went to turn and Abby went to grab your arm stopping you turning you to face her .
“No,I don’t want you to go.” Abby stepped closer, closing the gap in between you two , her gaze never leaving you. “I know, I messed up” she breathed. “And I’ll spend every moment proving myself to you. I can’t change the past but I’m here now trying to make it right . Please… let me make this right.”
Your eyes meet her pleading eyes, and everything inside of you crumbled , she had finally got to you. Whether you believed what she was saying to be true or not. despite everything—you still wanted her.
“You promise ?” You whispered, your voice barely audible.
Abby eyes lit up and Without hesitation, she pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like she was afraid to let go. "I promise,"
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Abby had dedicated the last six months to showing you just how much she cared, and those months turned out to be the best moments of your life. She welcomed you into her world, sharing her thoughts and feelings, and you cherished every second spent together.
You both had introduced each other to your families, and if you had any issues with each other , you promised to keep them private and away from your friends.
“Did you enjoy yourself ?”Abby asked while leading you to the front door. As you both worked on rekindling your relationship, you emphasized the importance of not just focusing on sex but instead prioritizing quality time together, which meant going on dates every weekend.
“I did, thank you.” You leaned in and kissed her cheek gently. Gripping her belt loop, you both stepped inside together.
“What are you doing ?” Abby asked you as you pulled on her belt pulling her towards the bedroom “I thought our deal was no sex ?”
“I know but I.want.you.”You whispered between kisses on her jaw while you unfastened her belt and pants. She then took control, gently pushing you back onto the bed.
She pressed soft, lingering kisses along your neck, and you tangled your fingers in her hair, tilting your head back and shutting your eyes tightly. This made her stop, and she took hold of your chin,
guiding your gaze to meet hers. “Look at me,” she whispered gently, even as your eyes remained closed. When you finally opened them, you took in the features of her face.
She drew you into a passionate kiss, and as she pulled away, she studied your expression before uttering those three significant words.
“I love you…”
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On TAZ-
Wow that sounds like I’m about to summarize some sort of discourse but I promise I’m not. I guess I’ll say that I really like this show and I will keep listening even if my worst fears come to pass, so keep that in mind!
For reference, I started listening near the end of Amnesty.
I’ve noticed, with the past few arcs- really since Ethersea- the narratives have just… not been fulfilling their promises, so to speak. They’ve been placing a lot of guns that don’t go off. What I mean by that is, the characters are great. Excellent, really. Lady Godwin? HELL YES. Emerich Dreadway? Fuck yeah! And so on! And the settings and premises have been epic- the goofiness and also horrifying nature of Engrave, the mad and thrilling world of Steeplechase- these things are COOL AS FUCK.
and then the actual narratives keep flopping?
And honestly, I notice it most in the endings, because you can really tell when an ending doesn’t land. You feel the sense of disappointment. But with vs. Dracula, for example, I could kinda see leading up to it that the ending couldn’t really BE anything special, because they lowkey didn’t set themselves up for it.
They spent the campaign fucking around in Engrave, finding clues and solving problems and not really experiencing any particularly meaningful character arcs or growth or, idk, forming relationships? So there wasn’t much to pay off, I’m not gonna lie!
Of course it doesn’t feel quite as dissatisfying when you’re in the thick of it, because they’re funny and the stuff is cool and- oh hey! Lady Godwin’s been turned into a werehorse against her will?? that’s got some real potential for a LOT of allegories and exploration of some fun character development! And then it’s kinda played as a joke. And then they do that again and again.
And they actually said that that was a move they made intentionally, in the TTAZZ. I’m not quoting them perfectly here, this is from memory, but I do remember them mentioning that they wanted lighthearted comedy without the burden of real life story stuff. And I get that, honestly, but… it’s not the choice I would’ve made. I do think you can keep a lighthearted tone while also, idk, forming relationships and wholesomely engaging with some amount of emotion. And sometimes going way too deep is funny as a tone shift!
But I digress. One thing that’s also popped out to me is the almost complete lack of any kind of romantic storyline or even references. This becomes obvious if you’re in a fandom because everyone is always dying to ship SOMEONE, and you can tell when people are really getting desperate. I don’t blame them for not wanting to roleplay romance with their family, and I do think stories lacking romance are COOL and SHOULD BE ENCOURAGED!
However if you can’t find ANYBODY to ship together… that may mean you just don’t have character bonds. The growing popularity of the PC polycule is interesting to me; I wonder if it’s partially because
a) none of the pcs have significant relationships outside of their party and
b) even within the party, there doesn’t seem to be much chemistry between any given pair of characters…? I hope I’m making my point well here- the PCs all seem equally close and have more or less the same relationship to all of their compatriots with little distinction, meaning, essentially, no shipping fodder that doesn’t involve just all of ‘em.
Either way, it makes me wonder if I can blame the “Graduation has too many NPCs!” critique. They really stopped giving the parties tag-along main NPCs after graduation, with the exception of maybe.. Urchin? Kodira? Shlabethany? Poppy? and even they get relatively little “screen” time. Steeplechase has great NPCs, I love them to death, but none of the PCs seem to ever have one on one conversations with NPCs or each other that do not explicitly focus on the plot. And I think that’s part of why the characters feel so underdeveloped despite having spent a lot of time with them- because in this character-driven genre, we get very little insight into their feelings or motivations or even their rudimentary backstories.
I started watching Fantasy High recently and it made me realize a couple things about TAZ.
1) Recently, TAZ has sooo few core NPCs, and it’s weird that the characters aren’t doing more one-on-one purely character based scenes. And that makes it really tough to develop them.
2) TAZ is- and I should have realized this before- one of many good dnd podcasts. They’re probably looking for a niche they can master.
And it sounds like they’re trying to get back to that old “Here there be Gerblins!” energy. They’ve referenced it so many times in recent TTAZZes- they wanted to be job-focused, allowing story stuff to happen organically, so they tried a more open world vibe with Ethersea. They wanted to be less afraid to kill stuff, so they tried playing criminals (and were still afraid to kill stuff). They wanted to be silly and light on character, as they tackled with taz vs dracula. Now they’re trying to bring in the silly cartoon vibe with Abnimals. I think they’re trying to make that family-friendly, funny and goofy show their niche. Something other actual plays can’t be better at them at.
And honestly it kinda makes me sad, that they keep trying to go back to Balance while ignoring everything they learned during it. Because I loved Dust. Because I loved Amnesty. Because I loved Ethersea. I loved these past arcs! But they keep doing their brilliant characters dirty for some reason!!! And i don’t know why!!!!
You know that meme about people who ask questions in movies and then the person responds “Have you ever been to a movie before? You watch them and the information is revealed.” There have been so many times in TAZ recently where information has Not been revealed and if they keep doing it the audience will stop bothering to suspend their disbelief, because the trust just isn’t there.
What is Montrose’s deal? What on earth was Carmine Denton’s whole thing? Tell me more about Zoox’s feelings, about Devo’s past, about Amber’s future. Show me how Lady Godwin feels about the body horror that is her life- like, seriously! WHY DID WE HAVE TO COMPLETELY DISMISS THE OPPORTUNITY TO DISCUSS GENERATIONAL TRAUMA IN MUTT’S LIFE FOR A JOKE??
Do you remember in Steeplechase where the boys were getting medical attention or something- i don’t remember, but they were all in one room and only talking about The Plot. And Poppy literally banged on the door (speaking for both Justin and me, tbh) and was like “does anyone want to share any feeeeelings??” and they were like NOPE! and they moved on!!
like. cmon. you can’t just put a character like montrose out there and then leave them severely underdeveloped to the point that what would be interesting in proper context, with audience insight, becomes confusing and chaotic.
I just wish they would take their stories as seriously as we do.
It feels to me like they don’t believe in themselves, and it makes me sad. Maybe they didn’t get the response they wanted from Ethersea and so they’ve been trying to pivot, hoping to recapture whatever it was that earned them a loyal audience.
Again, I love them. They’re so funny and I’ll keep listening until the day they stop making this show, and when it happens I’ll cry.
But i KNOW they have more in them. Remember the “we’ll grow gills” monologue from Justin in the Prologues? Remember Travis’s SOLID acting with Devo? Or his awesome choice to give Lyndon/Beef a clearly delineated work/irl identity? His excellent narration and prose? Remember when Montrose described being lonely?! Remember all those moments where Shit Got Real and you cared??? The nanofather said some dope shit! dracula and victor and sweater dracula had such a wild dynamic! Clint’s acting in Dust 2- I can’t remember the characters name right now- was ASTOUNDING, I genuinely didn’t know he had that in him and it blew me away!
I’m not referencing Balance on purpose, both because the fandom is way to hung up on it and because I want to prove that you don’t even have to look at Balance, or even Post-Balance arcs, to see this kind of good cool stuff!
GAAAAAAAGHHHH!!! I want them to have fun. But also. We’re starving out here.
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