#and yeah i just dont like the Implications

[stevethehairington]

OH BOY book announcement. on the one hand im excited because MORE EDDIE HELL YEAH and also ive heard good things about the other books, but on the other hand nO i LOVE the backstory that we as a fandom have created for eddie, i don't want anything else!!! i don't want to see it any other way!!!

and im also hellllllla not looking forward to the upheaval it surely WILL cause when Certain Things do/don't get "confirmed"

[frankiebirds]

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

if you would all allow me to be delusional for a moment - so i went back to staring Very Hard at the neighborhood map and. um. well. im chucking my marbles out the window! as always take all of this with a Hefty grain of salt!

i thought i saw a weird pixel in Frank's window so i zoomed in. then i took a screenshot, and fucked with the contrast/brightness settings. and uhhhhhh

UHHHHHH

FRANK??? HELLO???? HE'S IN THERE? i'm pretty sure im Not seeing things bc that is definitely a vague gray tube-outline with a yellow spot in the shape of Frank's nose. hidden in the dark. and i might be seeing things but in the pane next to his face it kinda looks like his hand is on the window? but! Frank's in there! what the fuck!

so naturally i slowly scrolled through the neighborhood Zoomed The Fuck In. obvi there's nothing in Home's eyes, and Barnaby's & Sally's single visible windows(?) are closed. I couldn't find any out-of-place pixels in Julie's or Poppy's.

but! Eddie's kinda freaked me out a little! look at this shit!

on the top left pane... are those fingerprints pressing into the glass? and in the lower left, is that a fucking Face peering out? a creepy ass face that almost looks like some sort of mask? there seems to be another Shape in the upper right... another face perhaps?

and then there's the weird window shine in the lower right (along with maybe Another face...). it almost looks like a string of letters. there isn't a single pattern/design like that anywhere else in the neighborhood. what's up with that....

oh and also, just went back to double check the post office's display window

there seems to be another face - all the way to the right in the darkness. judging by the shape of the paler (yellowish?) pixels between what must be eyes, i think that's Eddie. and i think i see ears and a hat... not sure though. this one is really tough to see but it's There

(side note: Eddie is totally fucked, isn't he? between the faces(?) and hands behind his door, Home sitting in his display, and the hyacinths by his building, the emphasis on his memory (or lack-thereof) in a project that is, in a sense, About memory... i'm concerned! and eating it tf up! hell yeah lets get funky!)

now i couldn't see any, like, concrete Faces or anything in Howdy's store. but! you can kinda see inside! observe~

in the big open window, you can kinda make out some sort of container on a counter and what might be shelves or a kind of brick pattern. and then above the 100% sign... hold on are those fuckign Eyes? lets take a look zoomed in & without the image adjustments!

yeah those uh. i think those are eyes. Wally-esque eyes peering out of the darkness. though they also mildly remind me of eyespots on insect wings. butterfly eyespots, perhaps. inch resting indeed...

WAIT I LIED!!! there DOES seem to be another string of letter-like symbols in the neighborhood, not just the post office's window shine. now it could be just a wild coincidence, but at the same time it seems kind of... purposeful. like that's not normal shading/coloring.

check out the blue window border on Howdy's Place, next to the apples. the lighter blue pixels seem Arranged. i think i see a clear N, and either an R or a P... along with some other symbols that i don't recognize as anything. the lower ones look kinda like faces? what could the top one be? is any of it anything or am i looking too hard?

in short: they're watching us watch them and there's way more to the map than initially meets the eye....

(edit: i've added a reblog w/ the images outlined! badly outlined but a clearer View of what i see nonetheless! + some notes on more little things outlining helped me notice)

[bunabi]

Hi Bunabi, pls ignore if this is too ranty

Dragon age has had me in a chokehold for 10+ yrs at this point, but the representation and racial dynamics in this series is bothering me. The Dalish and elves in general are just so painfully whyte. I guess it is more comfortable for white ppl to relate to oppressed whites rather than actual POC… My lavellan is dark-skinned, but she looks out of place among elves like Sera, Solas and Abelas. Even most Dalish npc are white. I am getting tired of the worship of European aesthetics in media, not only in terms of beauty standards, but also in fashion, architecture and art. Do you feel like Dragon Age is eurocentric?

I agree about the diversity of NPCs but I don't think the fashion & environments are strictly European worship, we've just been stuck in Fantasy France & England for three straight games.

And as far as whiteness helping players relate to them: no. 😭

Considering how fans talk about the Dalish in the wake of DAI, how they're treated ingame, how many Lavellans ditch their clan and culture in fanon, and everything that's been added to their lore post-DA2, it aint helping lol.

[the-dragon-girl-27]

this is one of those things where it was funny in my head but now that i drew it i realize it was probably not worth the effort  but no point in not posting it i guess i find watching the Mu saga unfold extreamilly funny for some reason i wish i had a quality pic of the % being even lower

[quadrantadvisor]

I started shipping Dick Grayson and Percy Jackson as a joke and then got accidentally invested. Help.

The thing about them is that I think they would Know. They would each know that the other had been though more than any one person could be expected to bear. They would feel secrets like a weight between them. And they would just. Not ask. They would decide to be eachother's simple thing. A bright spot of good in a world that's too hard.

Dick comes across as a ray of sunshine but he keeps up with Percy's snark. Percy's bleeding heart for the downtrodden and disdain for any authority endears him to Dick. They just have complimentary energies.

What makes this funny is how everyone else reacts to them.

Dick's family is panicking, since Percy is The Most Suspicious Man on the Planet. He works six months out of the year at summer camps that don't exist. He was accused of terrorism as a twelve year old. They keep trying to bring this up with Dick, who is exaggerating oblivoiusness. "What, Percy, suspicious? Never. He's great with kids, I'm sure the campers love him, isn't that sweet?" Tim is pulling out his hair.

Meanwhile, Percy's telling Annabeth (who he is still dating, polyamory ftw) all about his new guy, and Annabeth is like, "Let me get this staight. You're dating a rich trust fund kid, who's also a police officer, named Dick? That's not a real guy. That's a parody of a person. Who are you and since when do you tolerate cops."

[sydmarch]

was shit talking waterparks to a friend who only knows of them through me (as any parx fan does) & I'm like no really some of the more recent lyrics are so bad. read this. show him the genius page for fruit roll ups & he's like "STOOOOP YOU LIKE THIS BAND?? but you usually have good taste" lmaooo

[doomed-era]

ok so I found this after doing some research last night

URBOSA???

URBOSA GIRL THATS

(im aware that the yiga survive aoc just fyi)

[pagesofkenna]

i wanted to make a post about a thing but the more i think about it the more i want to say and it's just going to end up being a big ramble essay, so instead i'll just give the thesis statement, thusly:

as the #1 Ratgrinders Apologist (self-appointed), of course they're the final boss fight to the death. i expected nothing less and the people trying to make discourse about it are ignoring the entire context of this being a Dungeons and Dragons game

[qcoded]

You guys don't know how mentally ill I got over these screenshots like!! Ok I know Collector is under the impression it's Raine BUT just the thought that Belos is technically the one there just AGHHHHHHH (Mouth foams)

This is the closest I'll get to seeing Belos treat Collector so sweetly (like please, look at how they smile at each other he's holding the Collector's hands AAAAA) so I'm loosing my crap

anyways! I loved Watching and Dreaming and have never been this emotionally devasted

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

I'm piggybacking a bit off of the last ask of asking for writing tips but I have an odd question... Am I the only person that struggles actually PICKING a book? It's the absolute bane of my existence because I feel like I can be so picky... Don't get me wrong, I love being a bookworm, and I'm trying to get back into reading physical books but it's so difficult to find a real taste of what the book is like without being completely spoiled or something... I miss when backs of books had an actual summary and not just NO.1 NEW YORK BESTSELLER!!!! It's so frustrating... I've been trying to get back into it by re-reading fond chapter childhood books read to me (The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane & A Wrinkle In Time). But at the same time I'm also trying to get into more "adult" books that isn't... Well, you try googling "adult books" and see how that goes, I didn't think too hard about what a poor decision THAT was. But I'm working up the courage to read Cat's Cradle right now to start with "Classic Authors" I guess!

Anyway I'm rambling here, I guess my question is... How do you pick out the books you read? I don't really have friends that read many books to recommend to me :')

Thank you in advance, Bog! I hope you get a callback from that interview soon!

no ok actually you've mentioned something that's been bothering me for a while - What The Hell Do Y'all Mea, Books Don't Have Summaries Anymore???? i have not once in my life found a book that didn't have a summary. i was in barnes & noble recently and everything i looked at had a summary. i have literally never seen a book without one in my life of reading & looking at new books on a regular basis

softcovers have theirs on the back. hardcovers are on the inside of the sleeve - lift the cover and it should be printed right there on the inside flap! summaries aren't legally required but both the author and Especially the publisher(s) know that no one's gonna buy a book without a summary. trust me, all books worth reading have a summary. if a book doesn't have one, it's probably not worth your time anyway. you just gotta know where to look!

so my answer to how i choose books... i read the summary lmao. if it seems interesting, ill either write it down to get later or ill get it there and then.

Before the summary though, i look for any titles that jump out at me from the shelf. then i look at the thickness. i like a bit of meat in my literature, so i tend to shy away from thinner books. thicker ones grab my attention more easily. then i look at the cover - if it interests me, then ill read the summary. i don't have specific tastes in title or cover. as long as it makes my brain "hm" thoughtfully, ill take a gander!

and really, if you have access to a bookstore (chain or not, ive found plenty of bangers in tiny used bookshops) or library, the best way to find a book is to physically browse. even if you dont buy anything, you can take pictures of books / write them down to buy online. but going to the store lets you search them out, examine the length, cover, title, summary - and easily put it back on the shelf or keep it. i hate shopping online bc there's ads, you can't examine the product, nothing really stands out since it's all portrayed similarly, there's limited pictures instead of the physical thing, and photos can lie.

plus, everything is (typically) meticulously sorted by genre & age range. when you go into a section with literature aimed at adults, you'll find exactly that instead of smut novels lmao. real life bookstores can be more accurate than online searches. & there's just something so good about walking through shelves, searching for that one book before you know it exists, smelling the paper... yeah...

[waywardsalt]

was going through my blog trying to track down an old post i made talking abt my feelings on jolene and it was. much longer than i remembered it being. and haha yeah i still agree with it. i need to fucking. sort out my feelings on that character and that subplot

[flowers-that-sing]

"baby, if it feels good, then it can't be bad"

(a post s3 steve harrington songfic based on Gibson Girl by Ethel Cain)

TWs// sexual content, dubious consent to put it lightly but it's more implied to be sexual assault, past csa, grooming, it's not super detailed (the csa much less so, and told through memories where steve doesn't even exactly know what's happening), but like. you know. it's pretty bad. referenced physical abuse. referenced past incestual sexual abuse. alcohol consumption, smoking. lightly implied drugging.

also, disclaimer: this is all told through steve's eyes—the way he sees things is very warped, his relationship with sex is unhealthy to say the least, and just because he's saying he feels good does not mean that anything that happens in this is good. it isn't. nothing about this is good or healthy at all.

She approached him in the dark behind the bar, where Steve was half-considering lighting up in spite of his promise of quitting to Robin. He had drank enough that it didn't seem to matter. She had leather pants on, and sunglasses, despite the dark. 

"Corey Hart fan?" he asked lightly. She didn't bother to answer. 

"Just saw you leave the bar. I'm glad you stuck around."

Steve didn't recognize her, and she didn't seem to recognize him either. She was dragging her eyes across his body, and Steve was suddenly all-too conscious of his scars on display, his sweat-melted hair wax. 

He was sick of it, he was sick of feeling ugly, and this girl had desire in her eyes. Steve was craving desire. 

And he was craving thrill. His thoughts had been rapid all week, his body more fidgety, his stomach constantly filled with bees and his energy so high he hadn't needed more than a couple hours of sleep a night. He had so much time in every day, but nothing to fill it with besides the monotony of work, and he needed adrenaline. There weren't any monsters to fight now, and there weren't any basketball games to play since high school, and he needed the feeling. The melting, excruciating, nauseating excitement, racing heart, the feeling of something about to happen, the fear, the risk. 

"You came alone to me—from however far away," he mused, lighting his cigarette, delicately placing it between his lips, exhaling into her face. 

"How'd you know?" she asked with a grin. 

You're all the same. 

Steve shrugged. "Lucky guess." 

She stepped in, so he could feel her breath on his face. "You gonna buy me a drink?" 

Steve put the cig out on his thigh. He didn't feel the burn. "I was just about to ask." 

If I'm still walking straight, I need another drink anyway. 

They went inside together, sat back at the bar. Steve opened a new tab. 

By the time he had a glass of whiskey in his hand, she had a hand on his thigh. She didn't even pretend to drink the vodka she'd ordered, and he was still downing his last gulp of whiskey when she pushed it into his hand with a little half-smile. He drank it. 

The lights were bleeding all over him. 

He felt a hand in his back pocket, and when he looked up, she was pulling cash out of his wallet. 

You wanna love me right now? 

"You wanna get alone with me?" Steve asked. Her eyes were bright, and she nodded, pulling him to his feet and all but dragging him out of the bar. He wasn't exactly sure when he'd gotten there, but he was in the trunk of a car, the backseats folded down to make room. "You wanna get my clothes off and hurt me?" 

He hadn't meant to say 'hurt.' But she just laughed and grinned, and ripped his clothes off.

☤

"Baby, if it feels good, then it can't be bad," Lynn says. Steve's eight now, beginning to question if it was wrong. He's remembering his Sunday school teacher talking about how nakedness was wrong, or something. And a new word, he doesn't know what it means. 'Chastity.' 

Lynn's touching him, she says it's to make him feel good. He doesn't really know how he feels. It reminds him a little of his grandfather, but Lynn's a woman, and she's not family, so it's different. It's better. If he closes his eyes and lets himself sink into it, he likes it. Is he supposed to like it? Lynn says he's supposed to like it. 

He tells her he does, and opens his eyes when she's done, and she's smiling. She promises him a new teddy bear. But for right now, it's his turn to make her feel good.

☤

Steve likes to think he's a good person now, but he knows he's still a whore, and he can't deny the high that comes with being immoral in a stranger's lap. He's kissing over her chest and grinding down onto her leather pants, and she's digging her nails into his back. He still doesn't even know her name. She doesn't know his. Maybe it's better that way. 

She hasn't taken off more than her shirt still, but he's fully naked. It's dark, the only light coming from a dim greenish streetlamp outside the car, and he thinks maybe she can't see his scars, but she's running her hands over the scar on his chest, from where the Russian guards had cut him open. She looks at it with something he can't quite decipher. It almost looks like fascination, but he knows that isn't it. Her eyes are wide, her pupils dilated. 

Ah. Desire. 

"You know, I was serious about hurting me. You wanna add some more?" 

☤

"I'm in love with your body. That's why I'm fucking it up." Steve listens to Lynn's voice from where she sits on the back of his legs. He is on his stomach, face turned to the side so he can breathe. He can’t see her. He sees his disorientingly patterned wall. He smells rosewater and orange zest, and his head feels fuzzy. Something hurts. Everything hurts. He doesn’t think about it too much. He just focuses on the warmth, the heat from the points of contact between him and his babysitter, the sweat in the backs of his knees, on his upper lip. The bedsheets are damp. It’s itchy. 

☤

Steve tasted his own blood on her teeth as she bit his upper lip. He was starting to see colors in the spaces where she'd been after she moved. And then his face was between her thighs, and when had her pants even come off at all? His heart was racing, exactly like he'd wanted, and his body was wracked with tremors. He listened to the music coming from her lips, the moans rising from her chest, and his heart leapt. I did that. I'm making her feel good. 

His arms felt a bit numb as he reached up to rub his thumbs into her hips. She was panting hard, and he was giddy. 

"Oh, fuck—you really are special, baby," she hissed. 

Steve's eyes widened, watered, and he whimpered against her. 

I'm special. She said I'm special. 

Steve was going to ride this high for at least a week. He was desirable, wanted, special. He basked in her attention, even if he knew he wouldn't see her again after tonight. 

He felt like he was being shown something he could never have. Something he'd searched for all his life. For a second, he could pretend it was love. Love for his brain and his scars and his body. Him taking all of her attention and giving back anything she wanted in return. Just to feel special. He'd do anything. 

Because that's what love was, right? Love, want, attention, specialness, was just tied to sex. Maybe his parents didn't love him since they couldn't fuck him. His grandfather loved him, his babysitter loved him, and for one night at a time, anyone could love him. And growing up, it was the only way he was really touched, with affection, at least. In ways other than a beating. 

He knew that wasn't right, because him and Robin loved each other. He loved the kids—never in that way, ever, and he still loved them. It was a different kind of love. But then, it was another different kind he was looking for, anyway. Maybe he was ungrateful. But he was hungry for attention, for someone to call him special, to want him around, he was starving for it. 

His thoughts weren't making much sense anymore. 

She was holding him in her lap, his boxers were back on, he was resting his head on her shoulder. He assumed she'd finished at some point, he didn't remember, and he knew he hadn't, but he hadn't really wanted to anyway. 

He was drooling, and he couldn't stop himself, and he couldn't see much, but her body was warm. He crawled closer, squirmed in tighter. It felt good to be held. He felt good. 

He woke up almost naked on the sidewalk in the sun with drool pooling at his chin and the rest of his clothes on a pile next to him. 

[micahdotgov]

i fear this is going to do devastating damage to my google docs

[puttingwingsonwords]

Renfield (2023) was a lot of fun but I have to say at the end when Rebecca was like ‘no you shouldn’t be punished you should be an example that it’s never too late to better yourself’ I was like ummm 🤨 girl you are a cop? So un-self aware lmao

[suffarustuffaru]

hi again i ranked every parent i could think of in rezero based on parenting skills + how much they give a shit