#i call him a bitch a lot in this because he is

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 20

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17 || PART 18 || PART 19

Chrissy is willing to admit that when Steve doesn’t call her after his date, she panics. If her mom wasn’t such a light sleeper, she would’ve snuck out to check up on him. But instead, she wallows, dozing on the couch, not even able to call Jeff to bitch because what if Steve chooses that moment to call?

So, she can admit, when he finally calls a few minutes after seven in the morning, she’s a little short with him.

“Finally, Steven,” she hisses into the phone, keeping her voice quiet so as not to alert her mother to their conversation. “I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere!”

“Sorry, sorry!” he rushes out, sounding contrite. “We sort of fell asleep.”

Chrissy gasps, a smile slowly spreading on her face as the implications set in. “You guys slept together?” she demands gleefully.

“We didn’t have sex!” he shouts, and she’s glad, for the first time, that his parents are so absent from his everyday life. “We just fell asleep!”

She’s still smiling, twirling the phone cord round and round her fingers. “Does that mean it went well?” she wheedles.

She doesn’t think that Eddie would suddenly realize he’s straight and renege on the date, not really, but Steve had, and she can’t get the terrified tone of his voice out of her head.

“Well—” he drawls, leaving her on tenterhooks for a few seconds more. “He took me to see some shitty horror movie.”

“Oh my god,” she whispers, full-on grinning now. “What a stereotypical move.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he replies so wryly that she can almost see the way his eyes must be rolling. “Except he barely talked to me the whole time and didn’t even try to hold my hand.”

“No!”

“And then he took me into the woods like some sort of serial killer, and then tried to kiss me so abruptly that my lip split a little.”

“No!” she shrieks with laughter before catching herself and slapping a palm over her own mouth as Steve’s own amused chuckle filters through the phone line. “And you still spent the night?”

“He was nervous!” Steve defended. “And besides, the second kiss was much better.”

“Your boy’s a fast learner, huh?”

Steve hums, and she wishes he was here with her, so she could see the dopey grin that must be on his face as he says, “yeah,” with a dreamy sigh. “He took me stargazing.”

Chrissy coos, can’t help it, not when this whole thing’s been building for so long now. Not when there’s been an edge of fear to everything Steve’s said for months. He deserves something nice for once.

“And you’re going out again?”

“Oh, definitely,” he replies, and a knot of fear she’s had tucked beneath her sternum loosens.

He sounds excited, happy, hopeful. If Eddie does anything to jeopardize this, Chrissy will be digging a very deep hole and tossing him into it. She’s got a shovel, and the muscle strength built up from years of cheer—she’ll manage just fine.

So, when Eddie walks up to her in the cafeteria in some sort of fucked up parallel to that first time and bends at the waist in a showy bow, hand outstretched as he asks, “a word, madam?” she’s ready to kill him.

But, when she glances at Steve at her side, his ears are red, and he’s smiling up at Eddie from beneath his lashes. And when she looks back toward Eddie she catches the tail-end of a wink that has Steve sputtering.

Even Jason doesn’t protest from the other side of the table where he’s quietly seething.

So, she takes his hand and follows him out of the cafeteria.

Eddie doesn’t seem to know where he’s going, as he walks through the halls, peering into nooks and crannies until he finds a corner he deems suitably vacant enough. He flops down, legs outstretched in front of him, uncaring of the dirt caking the floor.

He pats the spot next to him, smiling up at her, so she slides down the wall and crouches beside him, unwilling to let her bare legs touch the floor.

Eddie leans away from the wall and wrestles his jacket off before placing it on the floor in front of Chrissy. Gratefully, she sits atop it, crossing her legs to keep them safe. She turns her body so she’s facing Eddie dead on, and he follows her lead.

When he doesn’t say anything, she breaks the silence with a quiet, “I hope you know that if you hurt my friend, I’ll kill you.”

“I have no doubt, Lady Cunningham,” Eddie replies, drawing an X across his heart with his finger. “But, I’m not here to talk about Steve.”

“Then—what?”

He’s grimacing now, no longer meeting her eyes as he fiddles with his rings, one of his fingers bizarrely missing its usual adornment. “We’re friends, right?” he asks hesitantly, like he’s choosing each word with deliberate care.

“Of course,” she replies, eyes trained on the little furrow between his brows. He’s picking at a hole in the knee of his jeans, further fraying the edges. “Why would you ask that?”

He sighs, slumping into himself in a way that makes him look small. “I’m glad I’m here, okay?” he asks, not waiting for her to answer before he continues. “Steve’s great, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. But, you still lied to me—"

"We never lied to you," she cuts in, and he waves his hand in assent.

"Yeah, yeah, but you all like, conspired behind my back, and that feels…”

“Shitty,” she continues for him when he seems to lose his words.

“Yeah! Shitty, it feels shitty that you were all talking about me behind my back all so you could keep this from me."

Chrissy sighs. She’d known they’d have to talk about it eventually–clear all this stale air so they could move on–but it doesn’t make it any less uncomfortable. But, he’s right; no matter their intentions, they’d all made a mess of things. She’d known that even as she’d been in the thick of it.

So, she starts where these things should always start, and looks him dead in the eye as she says, “I’m sorry.”

He finally looks up, seeming almost surprised. “Just like that?”

“Yes, Eddie, just like that,” she replies, maintaining eye contact even as her gut squirms. “We were just trying to protect each other, but that doesn’t mean it was the right choice.”

His eyes are wide, still shocked, and she wonders, something uncomfortably close to pity bubbling up within her, if he’s not used to receiving apologies at all.

“Both of you?” he asks.

Chrissy averts her gaze, mouth twisting up. “You know how Steve said Jason has been kind of stalkery?” she asks, watching Eddie nod out of the corner of her eye before she continues. “Well, it was worse before. He kept coming to my house and cornering me at school, and I just wanted to move on.”

It was more than that, though. She still remembers the way fear crept down her spine as cold sweat when she’d opened her door to Jason smiling at her like they’d never broken up, the way her throat had closed up when he’d scooted far too close to her side at the lunch table.

The way he kept cornering her in the hallway when no one was around to witness it. 

“So, when I found Steve trying to write that first letter, I struck a deal,” she continues. She feels bad about that, even now, even still. “He’d be my boyfriend, and I’d help him with the letters.”

She finally turns back to Eddie, braced for, what? Condemnation? But he’s squinting at her like she’s a puzzle he’s trying to crack as he says, “you totally would have helped him anyway,” with so much conviction that it warms her. 

“Oh, definitely.”

He’s still looking at her, but he’s smiling at her, eyes warmer than she’s ever seen them. 

“Alright, I forgive you,” Eddie says, like it’s easy.

It’s too easy. 

“Just because we had reasons doesn’t mean it was fair to you,” she replies, steel in her voice as she squares her shoulders and looks at him dead on. “It doesn’t mean you weren’t hurt,” she finishes, reaching out to pat his knee.

He doesn’t jerk away, just looks at her hand on his knee with a peculiar smile on his face. “You know there was a time when you touching me like that would’ve sent me into a tizzy,” he says, still looking down at her hand.

“And now?”

“Nothing,” he replies, shrugging. “It was never you, Chrissy Cunnigham.”

“You either, Eddie Munson,” she replies, matching his smile as she smacks his hand once before withdrawing. “Now is that it, or was there something else you needed?”

He looks away, cheeks darkening to a blotchy red, she’s almost worried he’ll faint. “I, uh, well, the jacket?”

She thinks of Eddie’s jacket beneath her first, but that’s not where he’s looking. His eyes are planted firmly on the sleeve of Steve’s letterman with a sort of longing that’s almost funny in its intensity.

She doesn’t ask any follow up questions—if he wants the jacket, he can have the jacket. After all, it’s Steve’s no matter how attached to it she’s become, and Steve had looked up at him with the sappiest look she’s ever seen on his face.

She’d do more than give up his letterman to keep him happy.

Still, it feels strange when she pulls it off her back. A shiver runs through her–she feels almost naked without its familiar weight. 

Since that first day in the library, it’s been her shield against Jason’s pushy advances, and her reminder that, no matter what happens, she’d still have Steve. 

But, Jason’s backed off, and everywhere she turns, she sees her people: Steve, yes, but Jeff, and Eddie, and the Hellfire boys–even Robin. Her life’s full to bursting in a way that it’s never been before. 

Chrissy will miss it, but she doesn’t need it anymore. Besides, she knows where Steve keeps his spare key, and she’s not above stealing something else from his closet. 

“Jeff’s going to be sad,” she says, patting the bundled fabric in her arms like it’s a favored family pet, feeling strangely choked up. “He really liked it.”

Eddie grimaces down at it and asks, “do I need to get this thing dry cleaned?”

Chrissy throws her head back and laughs. “No, but if you would’ve waited a few more days, you might have.”

He makes a gagging noise, but when she holds it out for him, he readily takes it, even if he doesn’t put it on. She wonders if it’s fear of homophobes or the thought of her and Jeff’s bodily fluids that stops him. She’s polite enough not to ask, even as Eddie says, “Wait, is it you wearing it or him that Jeff likes?”

She opens her mouth to reply, ready to offer up a vague “both,” but Eddie holds up his hand and cuts her off, talking quickly like he’s afraid of what she might say. “Wait, don’t tell me. I really, really don’t need to know.”

Chrissy springs to her feet and picks Eddie’s own leather jacket up off the floor and sliding it on. It’s even baggier than Steve’s was on her, clearly designed for layering. “I’m borrowing this,” she says, turning her back on him and making her way toward her next class just as the warning bell rings. “It’s cold today.”

“Don’t do any weird sex things with it!” Eddie calls.

She laughs again, making a point to neither confirm nor deny her intentions no matter what he yells after her retreating back.

When Jeff slides into her passenger seat after school, he quirks a brow at her new look, and asks, “that Eddie’s?” as he buckles his seatbelt.

“He wanted Steve’s,” she says, reaching out to pat his knee consolingly.

“I’m going to miss that jacket,” Jeff sighs, looking genuinely forlorn for a second before he gets a particular gleam in his eye that Chrissy’s becoming increasingly familiar with. “You know—”

“Eddie requested that we don’t ‘do any weird sex things’ with his jacket,” she cuts in, putting her car in reverse and slowly backing out of the spot.

Jeff groans like he’d been shot, and throws his head back into the headrest. She reaches out to dig her fingernails into his knee, just this side of too-hard so his groan shifts into a hiss.

“I know, baby,” she says, smiling sweetly at him as they pull away from the school. “But, I’ll get your mind off it in no time.”

Jeff gulps, and doesn’t utter another complaint for the rest of the night.

***

Robin watches Chrissy follow Eddie out of the cafeteria. Even after the door closes behind them, she keeps staring, wanting desperately to know what they’re talking about. This might have all started because of her crush on Chrissy, but Robin’s nosy at heart, so even as the flames of her crush burn down to embers, she wants to know.

Steve had called her on Saturday, spilling all the details of what sounded like a truly horrible date as if it was some sort of fairy tale while Robin cackled in his ear. But he’d sounded buoyant with exhilaration, and all Robin had been able to think about was that he’s like her and he’s happy.

Maybe there’s hope for her, too.

Robin’s broken out of her reverie by a shoulder bumping into hers. “Should we help him?” Vickie whispers, and it takes Robin a minute to snap her eyes away from her vibrant green eyes to follow her gaze over to Steve.

All the losers he’s still pretending to be friends are jeering at him, Tommy H. going so far as to slip into Chrissy’s vacant seat so he can jostle Steve around with a decidedly unfriendly look on his face while Steve picks halfheartedly at his lunch.

Robin’s out of her seat before she can even think about it, palms slapping noisily on the table as she calls. “Harrington!” Steve perks up, metaphorical tail wagging as he meets her eyes from across the room. “Come help me win a bet!”

He’s up and out of his seat in a matter of seconds, leaving the remains of his lunch abandoned on his table as he trots over, slipping into the empty seat across from her while all the other band kids look at him like he’s got the plague.

“What’s the bet?” he asks, looking far more relaxed already than he had while surrounded by his supposed friends.

Robin kicks him under the table as she replies, “the bet was whether you’d come when you’re called.”

“Oh, hardy har har,” he mocks, kicking her right back until she links both her feet around his ankle and yanks him so he damn near falls off his seat.

“Poor little puppy,” she coos, reaching across the table to pat his head while he bats her hand away.

Vickie’s laughing from beside her; it rings through Robin’s ears like church bells. She gets stuck, staring at the pink of her cheeks, the red of her hair, the mirth in her emerald green eyes, hand still outstretched toward Steve’s hair.

He kicks her again, and she snatches her hand back, grateful for the intervention until she catches sight of the knowing look Steve’s shooting her. In retaliation, she grabs one of her carrot sticks and tries to shove it down his throat.

“Not a word, Harrington, or we’re through,” she hisses, finally succeeding in shoving the carrot into his mouth.

“You guys are so funny,” Vickie says, still laughing.

Steve smiles, carrot sticking out of his mouth like it’s a cigar until he bites into it with a snap, seeming oddly satisfied.

Chrissy and Eddie don’t come back, and by the time lunch is over, the rest of the band kids have finally stopped sitting there like scared lemmings, waiting for King Steve Harrington to attack. She’s sure they’ll soon learn what Robin already knows: the king is dead, long live the king.

She loves him so much, it’s almost stupid.

“So, Steve Harrington, huh?” Vickie asks, inexplicably walking out of the cafeteria with her even though Robin knows for a fact her class is on the opposite side of the school.

“I mean, yeah?” Robin replies, feeling her face heat from the inside out. “He’s just like, not what I was thinking at all, and maybe the best friend I’ve ever had, which is crazy—it’s crazy, because it’s Steve Harrington, right?” Her hands, she realizes with horror, are miming an explosion above her head while her mouth makes a weird, crackling explosion sound. “Who would’ve guessed?”

When she finally gets her mouth flapping under control, Vickie’s smiling at her, walking close enough that the sleeve of her sweater brushes against Robin’s bare arm.

“I don’t know, I always thought he seemed nice.”

Robin’s nodding along like one of those bobble head hula girls that boys are always putting in their cars, even though Steve Harrington isn’t nice. He’s an unmitigated bitch with a sacrificial streak a mile wide, but he’s not nice.

“He’s like a stray that I let into my house one time, and then my mom fed him, so now he keeps following me home,” her mouth says.

Vickie’s mouth laughs in return, so maybe it’s not all that bad.

Robin’s mind replays the angelic sound as she walks into her class, waving goodbye to Vickie as the other girl rushes away in a mad dash to make it on time to her next class.

God, Steve’s going to be such a bitch about this.

 ***

After Eddie’s talk with Chrissy, things shift.

Steve doesn’t sit with the jocks at all anymore. He and Chrissy, still joined at the hip like they really are dating, shift back and forth between the band geeks and the hellfire tables at lunch on Tuesday, prompting hushed whispers to filter through the entire cafeteria.

For his part, all Gareth says is, “does this mean you two’s weird feud over Chrissy is finally over?”

Jeff snorts chocolate milk out of his nose while Eddie laughs so hard he nearly falls off the bench entirely, only staying upright because Steve props him up.

“What?” Gareth demands, tearing into his chicken strips with a viciousness that betrays his ire.

“They’ll tell you when you’re older,” Doug replies despite having no idea himself.

Eddie loves his friends so fucking much.

By Wednesday, a clearly fed up Robin frog-marches the pair of them to the Hellfire table and plops down beside them.

“Munson, I can’t do this split custody thing anymore,” she says, making the red-head that’d followed her over giggle. “They’re too much of a handful.”

“Or maybe even two handfuls,” Steve replies, across the table at her like he’s not playing the most overt game of footsie right below it.

“Don’t be gross, dingus,” she scoffs, and Eddie’s mind goes galloping off with thoughts he shouldn’t be having in a room full of teenagers just waiting to push someone a few more rungs down the ladder.

“Are you guys coming back to Hellfire?” Gareth asks, clearly unable to stand not knowing what’s going on a second longer.

Steve looks at Eddie, brown eyes devastating beneath his lashes. “I’d like to.”

Eddie opens his mouth, ready to grovel at Steve’s feet to get him to come, to get him to keep looking at him like that, but then Robin cuts in with a sly, “you know this means you’ll have to come to Steve’s basketball games,” and he slams his mouth shut.

Steve grins, all seduction dropping off his face as he reaches across the table to give Robin a high five like they’re already on the fucking court. She slaps his palm hard enough that the sound of skin on skin damn-near shatters the sound barrier.

“We can sit together,” Jeff says, but he’s not even looking at Eddie, eyes trained on Chrissy’s blushing face. “It’ll be fun.”

Eddie groans and lets gravity overtake him, dropping his head to the table so suddenly that it would have hurt if Steve hadn’t put his palm over the spot just in time. Eddie turns his face so he can glare up at the other boy, but Steve looks so hopeful and excited that he has to look away again, burying his face into Steve’s palm.

“Fine, I’ll go,” he drawls, lips brushing against Steve’s hand with each word.

“What the hell is happening?” Gareth demands.

Much to his dismay, no one replies.

Things slide back to normal after that—Chrissy and Steve showing up to band practice and hellfire and lunch like nothing had ever come between them. But, it’s better now because Steve knocks their feet together beneath tables, and lets his hands settle on knees and stares just a little too long at Eddie’s lips.

It’s driving him crazy; he wants to reach out and touch, reach out and take.

But that’s not something that’s allowed. Boys are born in their own, invisible bubbles to keep them from touching other boys. Eddie doesn’t know how he never noticed it before, but he wants to shatter it like glass, let it cut up his feet if it means he can brush his lips against Steve’s.

There are all these rules left unwritten, but flung at their feet like slurs: don’t stand too close, don’t look too long, don’t dare to touch.

He wants to, though, thinks maybe in the confines of Gareth’s garage and behind the closed doors of the drama room he could, and it would be safe.

But they live in Hawkins, Indiana, and he’d like to live long enough to get the hell out of here.

So he lets their feet tangle beneath tables and doesn’t lean across them to have a taste, no matter how often Steve licks his lips.

Friday can’t come soon enough.

***

Robin’s been twitchy for days by the time she pulls Steve into their bathroom stall. He follows her dutifully, only laughing a little as she pulls a towel out of her backpack and lays it down before sitting on the floor.

“You plan this, Birdie?” he asks, settling across from her, the towel beneath them insulating him from the cold that’s seeping up from the floor.

Robin’s face turns a blotchy red like a blood vessel burst and dispersed beneath her skin. “Boobies,” she blurts, staring at him with beseeching eyes before she slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

Steve nods, his attempt at sage wisdom undercut by the way he has to bite his lip to stop from laughing at her. “Boobies, yes,” he chokes out. “I’ve, uh, heard of them.”

That’s all it takes for Robin to kick out at him. When her foot gets dangerously close to his crotch, Steve grabs her ankle and cradles her foot in his lap, rubbing the bone.

“Don’t make fun of me!” she whines, still trying to kick him.

“Okay, okay!” he cries out, chuckling as he holds onto her leg for dear life. “Sorry, just—what’s this about boobies?”

“Stop saying boobies!”

Steve uses his free hand to lock up his mouth and toss the invisible key into the toilet, smiling as the blush on Robin’s cheeks creeps up her nose and onto her forehead until she resembles an especially square tomato.

“Vickie—”

And Steve can’t help it, he really, really can’t. “Has nice boobies?” he cuts in, already grabbing at both her legs to stop her jackrabbiting feet from finally landing a blow to his balls.

“I hate you!” Robin shrieks, but even she’s laughing now as she writhes atop the towel, scrunching it as she earth-worm-inches closer to him so she can slap at his ribs while he’s defenseless. “Steve Harrington, you’re the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

She tries to say it with conviction, but Steve’s hands have crept beneath her crew socks, and his fingers are tickling against the inside arch of her foot, so her words come out more as shaky exhalations of laughter. He wiggles his fingers as she squirms away, kicking out with such reckless abandon that one of her feet breaks free and kicks him far too high on his inner thigh for comfort.

“Get your boy cooties off me!” she demands, and he does, pulling his hands out of her socks as she backs away until she’s leaning against the opposite side of the wall again, pouting at him. “You’re the worst.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies, feeling lighter than air. “Now tell me about Vickie’s girl cooties.”

Robin smiles bashfully, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them. “Vickie doesn’t have cooties,” Robin replies, gaze distant. She looks wistful, enamored, hopeful. “She walked me to class the other day, even though I know it made her late.”

“Yeah?” Steve prompts, helpless to do anything but to smile back.

“Yeah,” she replies. “And maybe it’ll be like Chrissy again, you know? But you and Eddie…” Robin kicks out at him again, nudging her foot into his and then leaving it there, their soles pressed together. “Maybe there’s more of us out there than I thought.”

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, absolutely in love with brave, hopeful, honest Robin, here in this stall, in this moment. “Maybe there are.”

They smile at each other, two queer kids in the bathroom together, seeing themselves in each other, again, and again, and again. Steve hopes they’ll always be like this, here, on the bathroom floor, finding hope in each other’s smiles. He has Chrissy, and Jeff, and Eddie now, too. But, Robin will always be the first person who looked at him and made him feel seen.

“We should get married,” he says, not thinking about it before it comes out of his mouth and hangs in the air between them, making Robin’s eyes bug out of her skull. “Just think about it! Eddie and I can’t get married, and neither can you and Vickie—”

“You’ve literally gone out with the guy once, and we don’t even know if Vickie likes girls yet—”

“—but we could totally just marry each other instead!”

The silence of the bathroom rings once Steve’s declaration is out there. Robin swallows, throat bobbing, eyes wide enough that Steve can see the little red veins near the back. Suddenly, Steve wonders if he’s stepped over some line he didn’t even know was there.

Before he can spiral too far, Robin launches herself across the space between them, knees bracketing Steve’s hips as she leans over and bites his shoulder, hard.

“Ow, Robin!”

“You’re insane, Dingus, you know that?” she asks, moving away from his shoulder to plant a kind of wet kiss against his forehead. “I’m sixteen, and you’re proposing in the boy’s bathroom.”

She rubs her hand against his head, likely fucking his hair up beyond repair, but he doesn’t even care because she kisses him again, this time on the top of his head.

“I meant like, later?” Steve says shyly.

He’s always fallen hard and fast, knows that about himself. It’s a fundamental law of the universe: gravity makes things fall down, the earth’s always spinning on an axis, and Steve Harrington puts his whole heart into people who don’t always give it back.

But Robin’s on his lap, kissing his head, and leaking what’s either snot or tears into his hair. “Alright,” she warbles, sounding embarrassingly soggy. “When I get a girlfriend, we can just be permanent beards for each other.”

Steve puts his arms around her and hugs her tight, mashing his face awkwardly into her neck as she laughs. “Grow old in separate bedrooms,” he replies.

“Gotta keep our cooties separate,” she says, like she’s not currently dripping on him on the floor of the boy’s grimy bathroom.

He just squeezes her tighter and gives her a little shake, like a dog with its favorite toy. “Tell me about Vickie,” he demands, but it sounds a whole lot like I love you when it comes from his mouth.

“Okay,” she replies, and it sounds a lot like I love you, too.

PART 21

[carlyraejepsans]

would you be okay pitching ghost trick to someone who doesn’t rly know anything about it? i’ve heard of it before and that it’s good but idk why, and i don’t really get a lot out of advertisements or game descriptions

you know the toby-typical campiness in how he writes his characters in UTDR? over the top, extremely iconic, clearly working from preestablished tropes but doing his own special spin on them? put toby fox on acid and you've got shu takumi's writing style.

ghost trick isn't "just" good. ghost trick is the type of good that invents a whole new categorization for itself. ghost trick invented a situation to put little fictional bitches in that is so good, the most popular works in the tag are people from other fandoms being like "oh shit, let me put MY fictional bitches through in this situation as well"

it is one of the most hooking, satisfyingly delivered mysteries I've ever seen in a videogame. there is not a single second of the game that feels unutilised, everything pushes you forward in the mystery, and still it never feels choking. the way it handles tension and delivers its information is phenomenal. if this were a normal recommendation i would start talking about the gameplay and how fun and good it feels to play and how genuinely clever it is but you're not here for that, are you, so let me tell you the real selling point: every single character in this game is fucking insane. not a single one of them is normal. it's a noir. it's a parody. it's an animator's wet dream. my friend is playing the game on stream and they said his fiancée can tell when we're streaming because she can hear him doing his pathetic man voice on call.

listen to me. you will fall in love with sissel. i played One Shot earlier this year. i thought i was never going to find a game with a protagonist that crawled into my heart as much as niko. i was wrong. jesus christ i was wrong. you need to understand, this is a puzzle game. once you know the answers that's it for the gameplay. the replay value is extremely low. I have replayed it 5 times in three weeks just to make the wrong choices and watch what sissel says and quips about it. he's my guy. i need to hold his face in my hands. you will see his fuckass red suit, you will see his fuckass banana hair, you willl see his goofy little smile and his dirk strider ass sunglasses and you will whimper like a DOG because you miss him so much. i am missing him right now as we speak. fuck.

play ghost trick.

[new-austin]

Lots of questions in the notes. Understandably. I didn't expect this to get notes haha.

Yes all of these are actual posts I have seen, and yes, many of them were very likely bait. And also, yes, I did dumb them down or use more shocking language to make a funnier post.

I have seen several posts by different people claiming Emmrich is a slaver, pointing out the "hypocrisy" in his line with the slave he helps free in his first quest . While I will give it to them, a lot of mortalatasi and mages in general do abuse spirits Emmrich is so very clearly not one of them haha. His story makes that unquestionably clear, he finds it vile that mages, like Johanna, do this.

Only one post I've seen about spite and I sensationalized it a bit, they didn't say pedo, they just proposed that they found it weird because he's "Obviously child coded". I see him being a bit of a contrary little bitch (affectionate) at times but I think that has more to do with him being a spirit of spite rather than indication of age. He is noted to be a young spirit by curio and keepsake but I don't think that necessarily means child because they are both very very old spirits.

I've seen quite a few Taash negative posts call them child coded or way too childish. One post claimed to simultaneously be a long time dragon age fan while claiming taash was clearly "supposed to be the mental equivalent of 14 for their species" which is not a dragon age thing. All races age the same with the same life spans. I think they're very on par with most 20-somethings, especially ones with overbearing parents.

The killing Harding one I'm pretty sure was just someone airing out frustration with the general fandoms elf love above all else. But it wasn't claiming it was real world racist, rather fantasy racist, because people preferred elves over dwarves in this fandom.

Dragon age is back, I love going in the tags it's awful. Emmrich is enslaving Manfred, wanting to fuck spite makes you a pedo, Taash is child coded, Killing Harding is racist and more to come I'm sure

[reallife6anoufriev6boy6]

put the toxic dylric headcanons in the BAG!! hand em over

toxic dylric headcanons!

as i said in my video several people asked me for this so…heh…thanks guys…these also might not be great because im so tired right now i might make better ones later

tw for self harm and eating disorders

why so much ed content?? im projecting

theyre both equally as toxic to each other i think, but a lot of these are gonna be on erics part because i need some classic abusive eric content im sorry (and also i cant think of much for dylan right now)

dylan and his eating disorders. my, my. where do we start. eric finds out about dylans issues once he starts to drastically lose weight and he tells him that he shouldnt be doing that, but at the same time he finds out he has a weird thing for it and is basically like “omg dont do that vee thats bad…well…maybe a little more for me wouldnt hurt…” (shoutout to my friend for helping me make this one)

eric definitely snaps at dylan a lot and will yell at him over small things. dylan doesn’t appreciate it so then he will leave and ignore eric until eric is being desperate and apologizing way too much.

adding onto that i think whenever dylans hanging out with his friends eric would call him and be a total bitch about why he wasnt invited/why dylan is with them instead of him.

sex between them is definitely a little rough. neither of them can listen to each others needs and wants very well, especially eric. a lot of the things they do are under negotiated and sort of happen and come out of nowhere.

dylan can definitely get really annoyed and moody and just like completely ignore eric no matter how much he tries to fix it. at that point he would also be ignoring him in school and not answering him whenever eric needs to talk to him about the plans.

eric doesnt like the scars that dylan has. he thinks they look bad on him - he thinks its a waste of time for him to do something so destructive only for it to heal over and barely leave a mark. anytime he comments on it dylan just tells him off.

they both have issues with accepting their homosexuality and it shows. they call each other faggots all the time and will blame those types of things on one another - blaming each other for being the reason they get it on basically.

also eric has definitely pretended dylan was a girl during sex more then once which made him uncomfortable, but obviously he doesnt stop because he doesnt wanna be fucking a dude.

theyre both the type to get into massive fights and arguments that leave them bloody and bruised only for them to resolve it with angry make up sex and then be like “we are never gonna fight again fuck that smh” but it happens again shortly after.

neither of them have any ideas on how to properly set boundaries. eric would be real touchy and forceful with dylan because he didnt set boundaries for that while dylan would be too emotionally heavy and put his problems onto eric because he didnt set anything for that.

eric will trace over and touch all the bones that stick out on dylan because of how skinny he is while dylan will make a show of the weird dip thing eric has on his chest. basically them getting back at each other.

[sarafangirlart]

I think lots of people who straight up turn Perseus into a villain don't realize that dude could ACTUALLY be a blood thirsty and power hungry guy, yet he chooses to be a better person instead. He doesn't act on impulse, knows not to underestimate his enemies, can be extremely cruel if he wants to and has the head of Medusa as a weapon. And yet he's still humble, doesn't seek power and glory in the same way other heroes do and every time he used the head of Medusa was in order to protect someone who was dear to him, or because he had to deal with a bitch. He is far from perfect, yet he is still one of the most decent guys out there and one that could be called heroic even by modern standards.

And someone mentioned that Perseus can be a genuinely menacing antagonist, he fought gods, tyrants and monsters and got away with it mostly unscathed, but writers can’t think past “glory seeker and spoiled brat who wasn’t disciplined by his mom”.

[wellzofyouth]

What are some of your unpopular comic opinions? Dc or otherwise

I'm gonna do milquetoast unpopular opinions because I don't wanna argue with anybody today

stop writing superbat so sanitized!!! I want Bruce to ruin Clark's life in the best way possible. But also make it cute! I want to feel the yearning and I feel like most art fails to reflect that. Like they'll make Clark a masculine Dom top and a r*pist and I'm just like okay. I want them to be pathetic together.

Also people who hate on superbat for being toxic are incredibly boring and uninteresting. Also I see this criticism a lot from *certain* people but Superbat isn't OOC. In fact see point 8* for my feelings on that

Also I would like more stories from Clark's perspective without him being evil 😇 give him sexual repression and survivors guilt too. I want more stories about him being an immigrant.

People who call Bruce abusive are so fucking annoying I'm sorry. Especially because I'm not a fan/don't read most of the shit they're pointing to but also because the standards of child abuse changed during history and comics reflect that. Like fucking get over yourselves he's not real. God forbid you bring up the writing of some of their faves....

People would complain about batfandom getting their characters wrong/clogging up the tags are just as annoying as people who do those things. Yall are just going to have to accept that Batman is THE most popular superhero in DC and that people are going to relate him to your character. For good reason too since he is in every comic basically. Just block or move on already. Literally mute the tag like I do. You're not oppressed for being a green lantern stan. Well maybe you are if you like Guy.

Garth should be in more adaptations and media wtf????? He's basically a khia

Teen titans and Yj cartoons are both different shades of mid. I don't like Starfire in TT at all :/ and Yj just blows. Teen titans is iconic though and I loved it as a kid.

Wally is unfunny. :/ no hate to him tho. I just don't find the way most writers write funny characters to be funny. Probably because they're all cishet white guys who take themselves too seriously.

Clois loves to watch real housewives together ❤️ I know this in my soul and I will not hear otherwise. Not even unpopular just a headcanon

OOC doesn't exist for comic characters. I used to believe otherwise but I am fully on the team of OOC doesn't exist. There is simply too much history for most of these characters to have one based solid characterization so I will never hate on fanon. People on here can be such pretentious little fucks when it comes to other fans. Like just mute or block bitch damn. They don't hurt anyone by saying Tim drinks coffee and plays fortnite

I dont like most canon straight ships sorry 😭 I'm not naming names but they're all boring as hell. That does not mean I hate all straight ships. I can only see some characters like Dick as straight unfortunately and I do like batcat and clois but the others are just so.... yaoi and yuri won this round. They're all gay people to me

But also I dislike most popular ships in this fandom in general. Yall are missing out some good ass yuri to pair up men with no chemistry. Come on 👎👎👎👎

Green Lanterns are all hot asf. Not even unpopular I think. Hal, Kyle, and Alan are easily the hottest DC men and it's not even close.

Idgaf about any comic post 2011 and barely anything post 2003

[sidesteppostinghours]

ok. question.

ortega ended up hallucinating sidestep after they "died", but sidestep doesnt know about that. they know it got bad, but never the full extent of how their death affected them. so if your sidestep Did learn, if they found out ortega looked for them in every little piece they could, would that change anything for your sidesteps? would their relationship with ortega be any different?

[dirt-grub]

Smiling friends hc basically canon tho that pim is one of those people who had a lot of really bad shit happen to him but tries his hardest to keep everyone around him happy almost to his detriment. I mean in the first episode u saw his family lol

YESSSSS YESSS and thats why im so obsessed with him i can't think of another character that's like that off the top of my head and its so fucking relatable TWT like the message a lot of people got from the first episode is that pim is naive and i dont think thats the case at all, i think he just realized over time how to keep himself stable as long as he doesnt dwell on shit until he spirals and he started spiraling, i dont believe for a second hes never once thought the same shit desmond was talking about

[spider-man-2o99]

The prevailing belief of many ASTV viewers seems to be that Miguel O'Hara is an actual, literal vampire. Do you think this funny.

Nope! <3 it shows such a lack of willingness to do even Basic Research that would take maybe two seconds to look up that it makes me want to Kill. like. cmon. he has Fangs because he's half-spider...,,.,

They're hollow, and whenever he Bites People, it is specifically with the intent to POISON them with the VENOM from his FANGS-- he also Says That every time he does it, like he's an anime character, lol, and it means a lot to me. we don't know the exact makeup or potency of his venom, but we Do know that it's fast-acting, paralytic, and (apparently, thankfully) non-toxic, at least.

[mutter-of-dragons]

One criticism I have about the hotd adaptation, especially now that we're going to see more of Aegon II in action, is that I can't fully buy on his hatred of Rhaenyra because of what happened to Jaeherys. Even him cursing her felt jarring. The writers spent so much time bulding Rhaenyra and Alicent's relationship that when it comes down to Rhaenyra and her siblings, it's pretty much non-existent. And they HAD time to show us that. I can buy Aemond resenting his older half-sister for the loss of his eye, since her son was responsible for it, even though he - and everyone else both in team green stans and in-universe - ignores the fact that he was the one who was ready to bash Jace's head with a stone. So there's also that. Yet, when it comes to Aegon, even seeing the cast's interviews where Tom talks about how Aegon had always resented his sister for being the favorite, why don't we see more that? Season 1 had Aegon barely acknowledge her existence and vice-versa, even when his mother was berating and slapping the shit outta him when he was young. I can see clearly him (and Aemond, and maybe Helaena if she cares) resenting Viserys for favoring Rhaenyra, but not to the point of "oh, there she goes, father's favorite child. I hate her because father doesn't pay attention to me when she's around". So yeah, I have a lot of trouble trying to buy the conflict between siblings that was born out of a plot to usurp Rhaenyra, and a misuderstanding where his son became the target of assassination that was meant for Aemond (carried out by two very incompetent people, btw. Daemon should've tried to infiltrate that goddamn castle if he wanted the service done properly. Not to mention Ser Idiot Incel Crispy being the worst kingsguard ever getting a promotion after his absence resulted in the death of Jaeherys. Oh well, the woes of being doomed by canon, I guess.). If they ever interacted in season 1 instead of just sharing/existing in the same space at the same time, I would have buy the anger, the hatred, the pain. Now Aegon going along with Crispy's plan of sending Arryk to Dragonstone, which failed miserabliy and resulted in both twins deaths btw, just makes him sound stupid. I can't even blame Otto for being so frustrated with him (that would also be another topic on itself).

[a-lonely-dunedain]

I hate the Staghorns so much. every time I do their questline to get that painting I think "oh surely it's not going to make me mad this time around" and YET

[ratatatastic]

"Who's idea was it to put the cone on your head for the parade? Was that all you?" "Zach Eisenberg [Director, Executive Operations]—I think is his name—he takes care of us a lot at Amerant Bank Arena. I don't know his exact role with the team but he's just kind-of always around, and helps us out. He's friends with Brooks [Koepka.] I think he helps Brooks when he comes to the games. Anyways he found a pylon or I think I might have told him—I was pretty drunk at the time but I think I told him to go get a py—'if you could find a pylon, find one!' 'Cuz they sprung that speech on me, kind-of, last second, you know, five minutes before I was supposed to go up there. I'm like, 'What the fuck am I gonna say?' So I had him go grab the pylon and I grabbed it on the side of the stage right before I was gonna do my speech. And luckily all the clips are of that, you know, me telling him to go fuck himself... 'cuz the rest of my speech was terrible. There's really nothing to it! And I'm so happy that, you know, all the clips are only of that so!" "Yeah, we didn't know you said anything else! I thought that was the entire speech!" "That's all that matters!" "Exactly, exactly! I got away with it there!"

The Cam & Strick Podcast | 7.30.24 (x)

i love finding out they basically told ekky he was gonna have to do a whole speech 5 minutes before he was up while hes been drenched from rainwater and alcohol for like the past 6 hours absolutely pissed out of his mind like yeah no wonder his speech basically culminated to THANK YOU SOUTH FLORIDA AND ALSO GIVE IT UP FOR MY D PARTNER WOOOOO yeah that tracks

"But what golf tournament* were you at shortly after that? Somebody was dressed like a cone? Was that Lomberg who was dressed in like a costume? A cone costume?" "He came—Brooks came up to you—" "No, that was his buddy, that was his buddy. He was actually a Sunrise police officer. I actually saw him last night at the Zach Bryan concert! But yeah, no, that's one of his buddies. No, he was completely put to bed the day after. Right? Like he texted me—I personally didn't care, like, how many people at a hockey game are calling me a cone and telling Barkov he's got no hands like it's—you know, that's hockey. That's sports, right? So I didn't give a shit but—yeah, no, it was all in good fun. And then I got a way to get him back! It's perfect!" "But when you did see the first video of him in the box—and I remember watching that, I'm like, 'this motherfucker is rolling esctasy!' His eyes were fuckin' gigantic, he's like, 'Aaargghh.' Like, 'I can't take him, he's calling me a cone! I can't—' But that is kind-of odd that a professional athlete is gonna call you a cone and he's like a fan of yours...it's just—it was really bizarre!" "Goofy!" "Yeah..." "And his eyes were black which, you know..." "What does that mean?" "I just know what that means... and he was fucked up, you know..." "Yeah, yeah! He was definitely fucked up and he agreed that he was fucked up. And he apologised so I didn't care, obviously. And then when I was at that golf event I should've thrown a beer at his backswing or something—at the LIV event when he was actually competing? I should've fucked with him but I couldn't do it... I couldn't—I couldn't find the courage to throw something at him..." "So did he reach out to you like that night? And say, 'Hey, dude... I was just joking, you know...'" "'I took some pills and...'"

*2023 LIV Golf Team Championship (Miami) held from Oct. 20-22 in Doral

[and i suppose more context here lombo and koepka are friends and he even showed up to his cupday when he went golfing in parkland and not to mention that lombo facilitated koepka apologising to ekky so its why the whole cone costume came to be really]

theres a lot more context about this incident and the ensuing storm after it so for archival sakes here are articles about it (x)(x)(x)(x)(x) because its quite a saga but its water under the bridge and there's only so much tabloid-esque coverage thats been reignited after the ekky speech i can take about an athlete who's dumb enough to insult another guy while hes drunk off as his ass in a fucking public setting

but anyways i think its really funny that i said to myself wow thats an oddly petty thing to admit to you know the whole wanting to throw a beer at his backswing ekky... for such a good vibes sweet man who like the only thing youve particularly said about the cone novella is "we'll never be buddies" to which you quickly retracted and then went "holding ill will against somebody and pulling negativity in your body is never a good thing"

and then i remembered who he attended the liv event with and it all made sense

behind every aqua whos being a little mean there is a much worse much more evil looming presence who is encouraging them down this dark path (a gem but especially a june gem)

truly a tale as old as time

[invinciblerodent]

Y'know, I think ultimately this very line exemplifies a pretty big part of why I decided that this game would be the one I consider my "canon" one. It's not just because I'm terminally attached to my girl, or simply that I enjoy the story the game tells with her specifically, but also... this.

I'm happy to see how he thrives (and gesticulates, and acts silly) on a friendship path too, but I just can't help but be endlessly endeared by this goofy line that shows just how far he has come so nicely.

It was a long ride getting here, but to get this glimpse of what they are like without any mortal danger hanging over their heads, it genuinely feels worth it. ❤️

[zappedbyzabka]

[naturally-elegant]

Pelipper mail!

Its a black and red calling card, the front featuring a red logo of a top hat with a mask, white flame spreading outside the right eyehole. Under the logo are the words "Take your heart."

The back features text cut out from various newspapers.

"O Psychic Prick,

Fuck you. You're a spoiled little bitch who threatens people over extremely stupid things. I'm coming for your heart and possibly your kneecaps. Maybe some other things, too. I haven't decided. From, Joker."

@chaos-cousins

"...Tch, what a waste of my precious time."

(*He pulls a disgusted face, proceeding to ball up the letter and throw it in the trash without so much as laying a finger on it, almost as if he may contract a disease if he does such a thing.*)

[murky-tannin]

People learn the difference between canon and headcanon challenge