#it’s been years & it still haunts me

[astradyke]

with everything that has been happening in the last like week of the phandom much less the last few months can you believe that like, holy shit, a year ago we were talking about the kitchen polaroids? make no mistake i never forgot and i'm sure nobody else really has either but that was like, the most insane thing to me back then. and now we have instagrams plastered with collab posts of them being in love and extensive discussions of the phouse and the door just wiggling while being ajar. like we used to be in the "they have photos of themselves in the house..." era just like we used to be in the orange heart era just like we used to be in the turkiye vacation era just like we used to be in the "dan is leaving me" era etc etc, many things in between many things before and after, and now like. i dunno. i love this community i love the fact that we're insane about these two guys who are also insane with us in this increasingly healthy & beautiful parasocial relationship, and i love that the entire focal point of this community is about us celebrating love and accepting ourselves. this is such a healing space to be in. and i'm still insane over the polaroids btw. to circle this back.

[greisekinderschar]

Get Back: gay crisis condensed (PART 3)

I don't wanna go on the roof

other parts

[technicalthinker]

inspired by this post and others that have pointed similiar things out: the thing about sang-woo hunting the narrative in squid game season 2 is that he does it in two different ways

like first of all: gi-hun takes on the role of sang-woo. he does things that sang-woo did. he brings up the voting, informs about the red light/green light situation, but he also just acts more like him. gi-hun is more subdued than ever, and plays his cards closer to his chest. when his cheery friend from the outside world runs up to him he is not like himself. the friend notices but sticks to his side anyways. towards the end of the season, he gets into the "we need to make sacrifices" mindset. they need to win the game no matter the cost, the idea of winning is just different.

but also: in-ho takes on the role of young-il, who is not only similiar to sang-woo, but he's also sort of who gi-hun wished sang-woo was. intentionally or not. like they're similiar: collected, steady and focused. sort of the same hair and physicality. but young-il is also easier than sang-woo. he opens up about his situation unprompted. he'll apologize for stepping out of line. he states clearly how much he trusts gi-hun. he is the one who initiates teaming up. he asks for gi-huns opinions and plans. when young-il suggests something he checks if it's alright with gi-hun. he risks his life for others, especially the ones considered weak. young-il shares a lot of traits with sang-woo, but ultimately is not burdened or guarded in the same way. so young-il is both a stranger and something familiar to gi-hun. but also young-il is not real. not in the perfect way in-ho tries to present him. beneath it all there is that flawed and cold complicated person. gi-hun hasn't discovered that person yet, like he once discovered that side of sang-woo.

but sang-woo is still dead. he's haunting it in two different ways but also kind of a third one, which is arguably a combination of the two: he's simply a dead man and gi-hun wishes he lived. gi-hun has nightmares about his decapitated head. he looks after sang-woos mother. his money might as well be covered in sang-woo's blood. gi-hun looked up to him and admired him (feeling like he never could be as good as him, but maybe hoped). sang-woo failed and betrayed him, but was still redeemable (there was a good well-meaning person underneath but it was ripped away from him by circumstance). sang-woo was real but now he haunts the narrative and haunts gi-hun and haunts us all. but he's still dead.

[bromcommie]

SKREEEECH.png has entered the chat

[scalproie]

shaved him

[angstywildcats]

they're calling 7 year old maprojects classic....................... ( slowly withering into dust) (/LH)

[thisnerdetteoverthere-blog]

Every now and then i scroll on social media and a pjo edit will still catch me unaware and make me tear up

[magicgirlboss]

her word will be the last word for this place

[detectivedarling]

Dreams and dead kids

I went through @starry-bi-sky's shorter dpxdc au's the other day, and fell too deep in love with too many of them. Here's something inspired by their Danny Fenton is Jason Todd au whose spooky elements and universe crossover gave me so many brainworms

He doesn't start talking about the nightmares. Dick never does - he starts with something light, something interesting, something warm. But they always come up. "Free since Thursday," Danny rasps into the phone. It's Sunday. He can still feel the dreams in the back of his throat and against the curve of his ribs, tar thick and heavy. He doesn't think it will ever go away, not anymore. It's as much a part of him as his blood, the real thing not stained on green gloves and a yellow cape, as his ears and mouth and teeth, as the dark circles under his eyes.

Danny picks up Dick's phone call without looking. The ringtone is set for him specifically - everyone in his contacts have a personalized ringtone, so he doesn't need to blink the blood out of his eyes to know if one of his people is calling.

"Seems they really are becoming less frequent," Dick hums from the other end of the country, soft and warm and comforting. "Good, that's good. I'm still looking into medication. I've found one that might work for you."

Danny leans his head against his phone. His body feels like one at war, stuck between night terrors and the fear-born insomnia that attempts to stay away from them. "We'll see," he mutters, low and tired.

"If it doesn't, I'll keep looking, Jay," Dick says Danny's name like it's the most natural thing in the world. "I'll get you sleeping again if it's the last thing I do."

In a little city in Illinois, with two adoptive parents working on a portal to the other side in his basement, Danny huffs a laugh.

"My hero."

-

Danny has an accident.

That phrase is so juvenile. Like he's a child that wet the bed. 

Danny had an accident. Danny was in an accident. Danny messed up.

He doesn't know what to call it, but he needs to find out. Tucker called it the incident, once. It's carried with a tone that implies something big, but in the bathos way, were you're pretty sure it hides an embarrassing joke. Sam calls it june, like it's 9/11 and only the date is needed to explain it. Jazz calls it neglect. Their parents call it an oversight.

Death, Danny can't call it. He can barely bring himself to joke about it. He told the doctor that surveyed his lichtenberg scars that his heart probably stopped and started, like a natural defibrillator. The doctor doesn't take it as the joke he had hoped it was.

The day I died, his lips form the words without sound, the portal, the pain, the waking nightmare.

The one good thing about dying is that his dreams have stopped carrying the same weight. There's little to fear from the pressure on his ribs and blood in his mouth when he's already felt his body break open and mold itself into something new. His vision breaks red in the low morning sunlight. With the memory of death seeped into his mind, he no longer wakes up heaving or choking, crying or with ribs breaking in on him. He no longer wakes up breathing at all.

He thinks his heartbeat hurts more than it helps these days. It's a pain to get it going again each morning. With the echo of ticking clocks in his ears and blood still staining unfamiliar gloves to the vision of mangled hands, with the reflection of a shock and mind melting heat and eyes covering every inch of the portal, with the memory of death, both foreign and too close to home, Danny wakes as the living corpse he's become.

I'm not dead lingers in the back of his throat. It's a lie. The doctor said a mantra could help to wake up from his nightmares, but that one doesn't work anymore.

"I'm alive," his hoarse voice whispers into his too dead and too alive bedroom instead, because that one is true.

Danny's reflection in the window looks at him with five glowing eyes, overlapping and breaking of his face. He'd joke that the house is haunted, but it's just him.

He starts breathing again.

[thousand-winters]

Fascinated by people just getting into WTNV and asking if there is a list of episodes to listen to, omitting the "unimportant" stuff I assume.

Chill, you all. Night Vale has been ongoing for around 11 years and it's yet to show any sign that it intends to end any time soon, so you can take your time. Even if it ended soon, there is time.

Enjoy the episodes as they are. Chew on them.

WTNV does this very special thing of making the town feel alive, not every citizen gets an arc or even a spotlight, but they're constant, they're there, living their lives. Those little details, little mentions of everyone growing and continuing living as time pass make it feel so nice.

And then, one day, Night Vale surprises you, and, oh, hey, remember that one intern whose death wasn't confirmed? Well, he has come back, and if you remember him and remember what happened to him at the time, you'll be able to connect the dots of the current arc faster.

The MOST unexpected things come back. The town is alive.

Just enjoy the ride! Enjoy Cecil's voice. Enjoy listening about this friendly desert community where the sun is hot, the moon is beautiful, and mysterious lights pass overhead while we all pretend to sleep.

[furiouskettle]

so! working on that fallout 4 Long Time Coming rewrite fancomic i mentioned the other day and I'm wondering how I should post the pages when I'm done. I've got the script p much done and half the thumbnails are ready to go (looks like it's gonna be about 25ish pages long whoooops)

[astradyke]

the thing about me is that dan and/or phil could post the most devastating photos in an instagram story dump but if any one of them happen to involve my other interests i'm sorry that is my main point of concern. the two of them could post them literally making out but if i even saw a pokemon plush in the background all y'all would hear is me being like "they're SO obsessed with gen 1 🙄 i bet they looooooved x and y didn't they". world's most useless phannie

[wordfather]

the true tumblr experience is when your post, with a normal opinion, gets too many notes and suddenly to 10 strangers on the internet you should be stoned in the town square

[mengyan]

“I don’t want it to just be ‘me’ and ‘you’ anymore,” she mumbles, outstretching an unsteady hand. Shangguan Qian is so far away that she can’t even brush the edge of her clothes, let alone grasp her. “Can we… Can we be an ‘us’ again? Please?”

Yun Weishan watches Shangguan Qian carefully for her answer, sifting through the fog of the sea in her eyes. Wearing white and framed by the candlelight, she looks a little too unreal, like she doesn’t belong in the same plane as her at all.

Shangguan Qian exhales. She glances at her hand, keeping it hovering, trembling in mid-air.

“That’s not up to me, is it?” she returns. “What about you, Yun Weishan? Will you show me mercy, or will this all end the same way?”

破晓; daybreak

🌤️ of ten thousand journeys, the path home is the longest one to walk. 🌊 estimated 63k~70k (total) 🌤️ a post-canon fix-it— or, how shangguan qian and yun weishan change each other’s ending 🌊 starting october 25th, this fic will update every friday around 7 PM EST! 🌤️ with cover art and illustrations by the incomparable @notedchampagne <3

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58230550

[bee--28]

Born to be Todd Anderson (quiet anxious poet) forced to be Steven Meeks ("human calculator")

[oobbbear]

Everytime i got waken up by a nightmare near crying, it’s either the most terrifying shit beyond imagination, or I’m about to have a French presentation or something and I did not prepare.