#the worst part i think is that i SHOULD be okay

[jazzmckay]

definitely think this is true. before varric goes to approach solas, he turns to rook and says "take care of the team for me" and there's a lot more weight to it--in his tone, in the shot framing--than him just casually putting rook in charge while he's talking to solas. he says "take care of the team for me" like "i might not make it back, so take care of the team for me when im gone". i didnt notice this initially, but in following playthroughs, with hindsight, it seems so obvious. he knows. but he thinks its worth the risk, and if the worst should happen, hes okay with that.

and rook does take care of the team. a significant part of the game is all about rook taking care of the team.

"Did Varric just become stupid in Veilguard, that he'd walk up to Solas like that?"

No, I just think he knew. He's a 50-something year old rogue; he's lived in a sketchy tavern, fought all sorts of monsters, demons and abominations, witnessed all kinds of betrayal. He's seen it all, from Kirkwall to Ferelden and now Tevinter...you can't convince me he wasn't aware of what would most likely await him at the top of those stairs.

He knew, but he was tired. After losing Bartrand, Kirkwall, possibly Hawke—being away from all his friends, who ended up dispersing all over Thedas—after years of living with his regrets about the Deep Roads, about lyrium, about Bianca—about Anders, whom he couldn't save. A friend whose mind he could not change, a haunting tale now mirrored in his elven companion.

What is there left for Varric Tethras? A broken city to govern, occasional letters from friends. Maybe, but he's so tired. So tired that his well-groomed stubble has now turned into a full bush across his sunken cheeks. His flashy earrings gone, his flamboyant chain and tunic replaced by a more sober outfit, now drained of the fiery, warm colours that used to adorn his wardrobe, his hair, his eyes. Almost in greyscale now, it'd be hard to know it's Varric if it wasn't for his steady sarcastic remarks.

No, Varric was not stupid. Not in 2, not in Inquisition, definitely not in Veilguard. He was just tired, and probably figured if it was time to go, the best way to do so would be to try and redeem himself for all his perceived past failures. A domino of disastrous events started by a lyrium instrument which caused the downfall of a Tethras, ending the same exact way—except this time, it's one last sacrifice to try and break the cycle, to try and save a friend.

[setmeatopthepyre]

mystery monday (more phosphorescence fic) part 1 | part 2 <- follows directly after this

-

“No, come on, listen. You saw him on that call, you-- you must have noticed. He wasn't okay. How was he suddenly just... fine, just a few weeks later? It was like he'd-- he'd forgotten about me, Chim.”

“Look, Buck...” Chimney is looking at him kindly, and Buck hates it. Chim jokes and doesn't take him too seriously, that's what he does, that's what Buck's used to from his brother-in-law. But this isn't joking. This is just the... the not-taking-him-seriously part. “I know this has been a really tough situation for you...”

“It-It's not because he broke my heart, alright?” Buck says, suddenly angry, frustrated, getting to his feet. “It's not. There's something wrong with him. Can't-- Can't you just, talk to him? See for yourself?”

Chimney's gotten to his feet now, too. Maybe in an attempt to even the playing field, keep Buck from towering over him, not that standing up does him much good in that regard. Buck feels a little guilty, but he can't-- he can't sit down, can't sit still right now. He begins to make his way to the kitchen. Turns. “Wait, have you talked to him at all?”

Chim crosses his arms over his chest. “Honestly? Not really. We texted a few times, right after... you know.”

“He dumped me?” Buck says flatly, feet carrying him forward. He helps himself to a glass of water.

“Yeah.” Chim says hesitantly, trails after him into the kitchen. “That. So, not recently.”

Buck can feel the way he's being watched, resolutely doesn't turn to face him yet, takes a second to let this-- this irritation subside. If Chimney would just believe him, if he'd just understand--

“Okay,” Chimney says. “Yes, fine. If you think that will help, I'll... I'll give Tommy a call. Okay?”

“Yeah?” He turns now, takes a few steps closer, trying to gauge if Chimney actually believes him, or...

“Of course,” Chim replies. “That's what brothers are for, right?” He gives Buck a pat on his shoulder, as though trying to really lay the brother thing on thick. as if Buck won't notice he's still looking at him like he's someone to be concerned about as he does it.

..

So it doesn't surprise Buck when Maddie spontaneously drops by the firehouse the next day, because she just so happened to be in the area.

“Don't listen to her, she's here for me,” Buck says with a sigh, earning him a round of raised eyebrows from everyone but Chimney, who has his best (worst) poker face on. He had cornered Chimney earlier that morning to check if he'd talked to Tommy yet, but apparently Tommy hadn't answered because he was on shift, which is fine, though Buck knows Tommy is perfectly capable of picking up the phone when he's on shift as long as he isn't actively on a call. But. Whatever. Chimney will try again later, and until then... Buck is apparently being babysat.

“I'm here for all of you,” Maddie retorts before sing-songing, “I brought fancy coffees!”

“Maddie Han, you are an angel. You should ditch your lousy husband and run away with me,” Chimney croons, accepting the cup she offers him. Buck sticks to where he's leaning against the rig, waiting for his sister to finish her little charade so she can corner him and look at him with those-- those big brown worried eyes, and tell him she knows it's tough but isn't it time he thought about moving on? He'd shot his shot, he'd texted Tommy. If he hadn't responded, then, well...

He should take the hint.

Buck knows that. He just... can't. Not when something so very clearly isn't right.

Even if he's the only one who seems to notice.

-

tag list below the cut

@fiyaerrigan @bisexualbrainrots @leashybebes @louuieferrignojr @rubydaiquiri @teabroomsandbooks @crimsonwildcat-blog @sweaters-and-silly

let me know if you wanna be added or removed :)

[thevanillerose]

SQUID GAME 2 | YANDERE SCENARIOS

~ WRITING COMMISSIONS ~ ~ PATREON ~ ~ KO-FI ~ ~ NOVELS

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not own anything except my own writing. All properties belong to their respective creators.

CONTENT WARNING: SPOILERS / Yandere / Violence / Death A/N: Probably the most popular request I've ever gotten on this blog, was to write a sequel to Squid Game | Yandere Scenarios. Now it did take me a minute to binge Season 2, with a bestie. Mainly because I felt like it was a little too depressing to watch over the holiday season...(unless it's a 'Silent Night Deadly Night' sorta Christmas??). But now that I have, hoo boy.

Strap in.

THE SALESMAN

Your teeth ached.

You should have predicted the kind of man he was. You should have seen it coming long before this investigation started. His little subway game should have been a dead giveaway.

Was it any surprise you ended up gagged and bound in the most fucked up game of Russian Roulette you could imagine? 

Watching him slide that metal barrel up taut between his teeth was enough to make your breath catch. It was strikingly perverse, but then again, so were many of the things he had turned out to be into. And you’d ended up in too deep before you could realize that. 

For a moment though, just a moment, you wondered if maybe Heaven was smiling on you. You wondered, ever so hopefully, if that chamber may be full. If a bullet may rip right up through his skull and splatter the cheap smoke-stained motel wallpaper behind him.

It didn’t. 

You flinched at the click, and that was all.

Smiling smugly, he withdrew the gun from his mouth and slid it across the table to you again. 

“Your turn, [Y/N].”

Right now you didn’t even know what your odds were. You quit calculating your chances once more than two bullets had come into play. Hopelessness swelled in you, and you couldn’t even will yourself to pick up the gun. You sank in the seat, skin pressing to the ropes, lowering your head in pitiful defeat.

“Mm? You don’t want to play anymore?”

When he received no response from you, save for a sad shake of your head, he sighed and picked up the gun, twirling it aptly, gesturing it towards you as if it were only a toy.

“That’s no fun. I thought you were feeling lucky? Isn’t that why you came after me in the first place?”

You looked aside, ashamed. Mission failed, huh?

Now, all you expected was a pull of that trigger on his part. A gamble on your behalf, one he’d probably take a few times if that was what it took to put you down. Yet instead, it was the gun he put down instead. 

“Can I be honest with you, [Y/N]?” he asked, steepling his fingers and leaning forward to look you dead in your tearful eyes.

“...I think it’s quite fortunate. That you stopped being so stubborn. That you gave up. Do you know why?”

Somehow, this already confusing man had baffled you further. And only moreso, terrifyingly moreso, when his fingers reached out to drift slowly up your cheek, coming to tug playfully on the gag and make you whimper.

“Because, alive? Like this? I can do whatever I want with you.”

That charming, disarming smile.

“Can’t I?”

THANOS

“I wanna keep playing with you. So push O, okay baby?”

His painted nails dug deep under your collarbones, like the worst kind of shoulder massage, his tall body leaning over yours and pressing against your back. His purple hair brushed your cheek, as did his breath when he spoke.

Thanos had singled you out and ‘chosen’ you from the get-go. He was arrogant enough to think he could get anyone he wanted, and you were a cute-looking challenge for him. Your initial resistance, your discomfort around him, he figured, had been nerves. 

“But it’s all good babe, stick with me and I’ll keep you safe. That’s a promise, yeah?”

Surely it didn’t have nearly nothing to do with your actual wellbeing, and more to do with keeping you in his clutches. Surely it wasn’t because he cared less about whether one of those pink limp-dicks blasted your brains out and more about making sure nothing else with a dick got near you.

Surely it wasn’t anything like that.

You were just someone who’d make a good fuck if he could bribe the guards to let you two in the bathroom alone. Just a toy for him to play around with, as he drugged himself all the way to victory.

…He tried to keep that lie strong and real in his head. But with you standing right there, back to his chest, he knew he was trying to convince himself of some serious bullshit.

There was nobody else like you. He didn’t know why, there just wasn’t.

Whatever it was, the drugs, the impending doom, the smell of money, whatever it was…one thing he simply knew for sure, was that he couldn’t let you go.

Which meant, you had to keep playing.

You had to push O.

His grip finally loosened, as your number was called. He pushed you toward the voting stand. He bit down on his chipped, painted thumb, and hoped you’d make the right choice.

Because if you didn’t? Well.

He wasn’t letting you go anyway.

HYUN-JU

It wasn’t fair.

You were so sweet. You were so innocent. You were so understanding.

Someone like you had no place in a game like this. Whatever mess it was you’d gotten yourself in, out in the real world, Hyun-ju couldn’t imagine it was bad enough to be worth staying here. Living this nightmare. She couldn’t fathom why you had voted to keep going.

There was no way you’d last. This sweet little person who called her ‘unnie’, and had told her without a shred of sarcasm that she was beautiful…you surely had too good a soul to survive in this place. You were going to die, and you were going to die horribly, she just knew it, and she couldn’t bear it.

“Unnie…would you come to the bathroom with me?”

During the night, you’d nudged and asked her almost like a child, apologetic for waking her, but clearly trusting nobody else as much. Hyun-ju obliged of course, she felt like she could do anything for you. Escorting you to the bathroom, even if it meant dealing with some difficult guards, was such a small ask.

It was the middle of the night. Everyone was resting, or trying to, at least. Trying to steel themselves with energy, a hopeful advantage in the upcoming games. So here, it was just the two of you. Alone.

“I won’t be long!” you assured her, and hurried into one of the cubicles, while Hyun-ju turned towards the sinks, leaning against one and gripping it. She gazed up at her face, brushing her cheek, remembering how you’d called her ‘beautiful’. 

You probably didn’t even realize how much that meant to her. You probably couldn’t fathom the effect you had on her.

Hyun-ju’s teeth grit and she doubled over, arms quivering as her grip on the sink’s edge steadily tightened. More and more, until her knuckles flushed in white.

I could do it.

Her head immediately shot up, staring at herself in sheer horror. How could she even consider that? 

But…what was the alternative? Let you suffer in one of these awful ‘games’? See your perfect face riddled with bullets, bloodied, ruined? Let any of those other lecherous creeps in here even have a chance of getting closer to you?

…It would be a mercy, no?

“I’m done!”

Blissfully unaware of what she was truly contemplating, you emerged again and quickly washed your hands, looking up at her with your usual, warm smile.

“Do you need to go too?” you shook your hands off, “I can wait for you, unnie.”

Hyun-ju forced a shaky smile, and shook her head.

“No…I’m fine.”

“Okay!” you gestured for her to go ahead, back to bed, back to the impossible task of trying to get any rest at all in this fucked up place.

Instead, Hyun-ju reached out and gently guided you back against the sink, standing over you. Her hand lingered near the crook of your neck, her thumb gently curling against your skin.

“...Unnie?” you looked up at her, now wide-eyed, and confused.

“...You wouldn’t blame me…right?” she whispered, softly, worriedly, like her words were pure sin. Her other hand cupped your cheek gently, and you instinctively leaned into it, confused, but happy to be held by her like this.

“...I just…I don’t want you to suffer…”

The pad of her thumb pressed harder. Her other fingers slipped lower, resting on the other side of your neck.

All she had to do was bring them together. Bring them together…and squeeze.

Squeeze until you felt nothing else. Until you could go blissfully to a happier place, with no debts, and no killing, and freedom again. Your delicate body would sink against hers, and then, somehow, she’d take herself out of here too. It could be as simple as provoking one of the guards on lavatory duty. It wouldn’t be the prettiest, but at least then, you’d be together.

Out of this place. Away from it all.

Forever-

“U-unnie?”

It was how small and suddenly so frightened your voice sounded, that startled her out of it. Her hands jerked back, hovering stiffly either side of you, as you gazed up at her with so much hurt and concern and…fear.

Fear.

You were afraid of her. The last thing she would have ever wanted.

“...W…we should get back, right? They’re going to get mad if we don’t…”

She could see the way you still tried your best to smile, and be nice, be the way you’d always been with her, but it was too late.

It was ruined. She blew it. You’d never see her the same way again.

Whether you truly knew what her intent had been or not, she could feel the awkward shift between the two of you, as she stiffly followed you out. She felt sick. Was that it? The end of this beautiful thing you had?

…Beautiful.

No. She couldn’t let it be. And as she left that bathroom, and looked at those guards, and looked at every other twisted person in that room, and looked at…you. She knew.

She was filled with a dark, delusional resolve.

Maybe killing you wasn’t the answer.

Maybe killing everyone else was.

THE FRONT MAN

Young-il had seemed like a good man.

A good man, simply in a bad place. Like the rest of you. You liked to think anyway.

It was only during this game, Mingle, that you got to see the full extent of people’s desperation. What they were willing to do, to survive, to line their pockets, or both.

It wasn’t in your nature…

“You understand, right [Y/N]!?”

It wasn’t ever…

“We’re sorry!!”

…in your nature.

You’d made a small group of companions here, but as you were the weakest link, they cut you in an instant as soon as the number needed in one of those rooms required it. Their apologies were like water, they meant nothing, as you were left standing there, lost, alone, scared.

This game…was also the first time he took action.

Messing with Gi-hun was one thing, but the Front Man wanted more than that. As soon as The Salesman had shown you to him; your red, flustered face as you had been slapped around the subway station, captured on handycam video…he had been sure of something.

It wasn’t just Gi-hun. It was you too.

Perhaps, he’d even say, you were the priority.

He liked the idea of keeping you after this was all over. Which meant, for now, assuring you stayed alive through these games.

So when he saw you abandoned, it was his time to act. He practically ripped the breath out of you with how fast he grabbed and tugged you along, throwing you into a lime green room and slamming the door shut behind the two of you.

You hit the wall with a yelp, and slumped against it. But as you shakily looked to your right, and as he turned from the door and cast his sharp eyes around the room, you both saw.

You’d wanted 2. You’d gotten 3.

“H-hey, we can work this out, r–”

The man didn’t get to finish. The tears that had welled in his eyes now poured down his face as he gagged and choked and writhed against the solid arm around his neck. You gasped with horror, staggering back as tightly into the corner as you could, covering your mouth with both hands.

You watched him kill that man. Clenched jaw, staring ahead coldly, even as a living being drifted into death in his very own arms.

And only once he was sure you were in the clear…did that kindness return. That goodness, you had been so sure about.

Young-il stood, and approached you, arm outstretched so he could brush your arm gently with his palm.

“You’re alright?”

You didn’t know how to respond. Pallid and wide-eyed, feeling like you had a cord around your throat, you looked into those worried eyes and only saw softness. But you couldn’t shake seeing that hard look from earlier. Witnessing it firsthand.

His cold will. How easily he had killed.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded, but quickly moved away, muttering something about how the game must be over now. As you stepped out, he remained for a moment, glancing up at the cameras before smirking, and curling the hand that had touched you close to the mint green jacket on his chest.

Did that shock you? Really?

Then perhaps it was better if you braced yourself.

Because if it meant keeping you as his own sort of prize……he was willing to do a lot worse than that.

Like my writing? I can write for you! Check out my WRITING COMMISSIONS!

[sturniolohohoho]

In Frame, In Fame, In Fate Part 1 - Roller Rink

summary: nick, a complete stranger, walks up to you out of nowhere, pretending you're his friend to escape crazy fans. You become friends and you end up hanging out with the triplets at a roller rink, where you meet matt sturniolo... <3

c/w: Flirting, hand-holding, cursing, teasing, falling

requested by @mattsslvtzx

dividers by @anitalenia here

proofread by @lailasnight (tyssmmm!! <3)

word count: 1579

Nick stood in the chip aisle, holding a sour cream and onion pringles can, awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact with the group of giggling teenagers who had been following him around the mall and grocery store, despite having already taken pictures with him. 

He wanted desperately to go home, but bringing a group of crazy fans straight to his address was the worst course of action. 

Suddenly, he spots you in the next aisle over. You had wavy midlength blue hair, a bunch of piercings, and rollerblades slung over your shoulder. Exactly the kind of girl Nick would love to be friends with anyway. He decides to just go for it, really wanting to escape the fans and head back home.

“Hey girl, I haven’t seen you in forever! How are you??” you look up, startled at first. He sends you a pleading look, eyes darting over at the ogling fans not too far away. You immediately catch on, smirking. 

“Oh my god hey…” “Nick,” he whispers. “Hey Nick, it's been so long!”

Nick lets out a relieved breath, shifting his weight as he steps closer to you, playing into the act. “Yeah, seriously! What’s it been, like… a year?”

You raise a brow, amused at his lack of commitment to the lie. “More like two,” you correct smoothly, tilting your head. “How’s your mom doing?”

Nick blinks, caught off guard. “Uh—great! Yeah, she’s, uh, doing really well.” He scratches the back of his neck, eyes flickering to the group of fans still watching from the end of the aisle. “Actually, I was just about to grab something for dinner. You wanna walk with me?”

You glance over at the fans and then back at Nick, your smirk widening. “Sure thing, old buddy. Let’s catch up.”

Looping your arm through his like you’ve done it a thousand times before, you tug him down the aisle, grabbing a random bag of chips off the shelf as you go. “So,” you say loudly, for the fans to hear. “Are we still on for that thing this weekend?”

Nick stares at you blankly for a second before quickly nodding. “Oh, totally. Wouldn’t miss it.”

You grin. “Great. You still vegan?”

Nick makes a face. “Never was.”

“Well, you are now.” You toss a bag of plant-based nuggets into his cart, and he snorts, finally relaxing a little.

The two of you continue strolling through the store, casually tossing items into his cart and making up ridiculous stories about your “long-lost friendship.” You can feel the fans watching, whispering amongst themselves, but they don’t approach, eventually seeming to leave.

As you reach the checkout, Nick leans in and mutters, “You’re a lifesaver.”

You shrug. “I know.”

Nick laughs, then tilts his head. “You should come hang sometime. My brothers would think you’re hilarious.”

You smirk. “I do make a great first impression.”

Nick snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you sometime soon,” he says. “Yeah, see you soon!”

And that was not the last time you'd hang out with him.

The second you step into the roller rink, you know exactly how this night was going to go. Nick had texted you a couple days after you met him, asking if you wanted to hang somewhere– you suggested the roller rink.

Nick drags behind the group, already making it clear he has no intention of actually skating. Chris is eyeing the rental counter like he's debating whether or not to commit to the chaos. And Matt? Matt is standing there with his arms crossed, trying way too hard to look confident.

“Are you sure you know how to skate?” you ask, smirking as you sling your rollerblades over your shoulder.

“Sure I do,” he says looking confident. “I used to roller blade when I was a kid.”

Nick laughed, “Yeah, that’s why you were watching tutorials in the car?”

Chris loses it. “Dude, no way.”

Matt glares. “I was refreshing my skills.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Right. Well, let’s see what you’ve got, pro.” You drop onto one of the benches, lacing up your skates with practiced ease. “Unless you’re scared?”

You give him a wink, skating out onto the rink with practiced ease, picking up speed slowly as you roll around the rink. Matt and Chris tie up their shoes, joining you on the rink, unsteadily. 

Nick sits right on the edge pulling his camera out “Just to be clear, I’m not skating, just here for the entertainment and content."

“Hey you don’t mind if I film, right.” You look back at Nick, “Yeah, no problem.”

Chris skates over to you, surprisingly smoothly. Matt tries skating out onto the rink after him, immediately wobbling. You bite your lip, trying not to laugh as he moves unsteadily. 

“You good?” “Yeah,” he says quickly, trying to regain his balance. He takes a step forward. The second his weight shifts, his ankle gives out, and he flails wildly before catching himself on the back of the bench.

Nick cackles in the back, filming with his phone “HAHA! This was so worth coming for!”

Chris skates past, grinning. “You looked so confident five minutes ago, what happened?”

Matt glares at both of them before looking back at you. “Maybe I just need a—” he hesitates for half a second, then smirks, “—better teacher.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? You need me to hold your hand, Matt?”

Matt shrugs, playing it cool. “If you insist.”

Nick chokes on a laugh. Chris skates past again and mutters, “Smooth.”

You shake your head but extend a hand anyway. “Alright, Matthew. Let’s see if you can stay on your feet.”

Matt takes your hand, and the second you pull him forward, he stumbles—right into you. His hands grip your arms, steadying himself, and when he looks up, there’s just the tiniest hint of pink on his face.

He blushes, letting go and standing himself up unsteadily. “Okay, just watch what I do,” you say, showing him how to push off each roller skate. He tries copying you, but stumbles again, as you steady him by grabbing his hand.

You don’t let go, slowly guiding him forward until you are both moving at a slow and steady pace. 

Matt stays quiet as you guide him, his grip on your hand firm. He’s trying so hard to act like he’s totally got this under control, but every time his balance wobbles, his fingers tighten around yours just a little.

Chris skates past, grinning. “Aww, look at you two. Adorable.”

Matt glares. “Shut up.”

Nick, still planted safely on the sidelines, smirks. “Nah, I’m enjoying this too much.”

“There you go,” you say, grinning. “Baby steps.”

Matt glares half-heartedly. “Don’t patronize me.”

Nick, watching from the sidelines, taking pictures. “I hope you know I’m never letting you live this down.”

Matt lets go of your hand, a little more confident. “Okay I think I’ve got this.” Just as he says the words, his legs slide out from under him and his arms flailing around, bringing you down with him.

There’s a brief moment of weightlessness before you both go down, limbs tangled, skidding across the rink floor in a mess of laughter and groans.

Chris howls with laughter. Nick finally puts his phone down, covering his mouth to muffle his snickering.

Matt groans, sprawled half on top of you. “Sorry… are you okay?” “Yeah, I’m good,” you say giggling. “I hate this stupid sport,” he mutters.

He got up, face completely red. “Ugh can we go get Mcdonalds or something? I’m done with this.”

Chris skates to the edge of the rink, getting ready to pack up. “Okay, let's go,” says Nick following Chris out of the rink.

You and Matt are left in the rink, slowly making your way to the edge. 

“Um, thanks for trying to teach me by the way.” You give him a sweet smile. “No problem”

As you step off the rink, Matt’s grip on your hand lingers, just a second too long. His fingers brush against yours before he finally lets go, almost reluctantly.

“You sure you weren’t holding my hand for other reasons?” you tease, tilting your head with a smirk.

Matt huffs a quiet laugh, looking away for a moment before glancing back at you. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Your smirk widens. “Oh, I would.”

He exhales, shaking his head with a small smile. “I swear I’m not usually this bad at skating.”

You grin. “I don’t know, you seemed pretty natural at falling.”

He groans, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right. So that’s what I’m gonna be remembered for.”

You nudge his arm. “Could be worse.”

Matt watches you for a beat, like he’s debating saying something else, but instead, he just smirks. “Guess I’ll have to give you something better to remember me by next time.”

Your brows lift. “What?”

His smirk twitches, almost sheepish now. “Next time. Y’know. If you’re up for it.”

You pretend to consider it, then grin. “Only if you promise to stop falling on me next time.”

Matt laughs, nudging your shoulder. “No promises.”

And as you both head toward the rental counter, you get the feeling you wouldn’t want him to.

“HURRY UP, LOVEBIRDS!” Chris yells from the other room, making exaggerated kissing noises.

Matt rolls his eyes, his face a little red, and calls back, “SHUT UP, CHRIS, YOU’RE AN IDIOT.”

a/n: well well welll thats the end of part 1!!! the fake instagram post took me WAY too long so i hope this does well.

also thank you @mattsslvtzx for this amazing request i would've never though of the idea

[inkyrainstorms]

The Came Back Wrong AU

(Some art I made!! He's suffering but it's okay, there light at the end of the tunnel and it probably not gonna kill him. Might finish some of these later)

After a conversation with @aroace-get-out-of-my-face, I started digging through my old art (and found a lot of things that I never posted but probably should, they came out nice) for the details of my Nightmare Ford au! I've also got a lot of notes on him in my Notes app, because, oh my gosh I love this au so much. I think part of the reason I was scare to share it all these months ago was because I was afraid BECAUSE he meant so much to me.

Ah, tangent side! The Nightmare!Ford au (is not about fnaf. the number of times I've heard that from me gf, istg-) is an AU where Ford never came across the refugee camp that he did in Canon, and instead, he had to survive for over 4-5 years in the Nightmare Realm, running from Bill and trying to find the means to leave. In the process, he ends up absorbing a lot of the residual energy in the Nightmare Realm and it manifests in a sort of 'static' that is constantly trying to both overflow out of him through his damaged eye (notice the scar) and act as a repellent for Bill!

Why does it act as a repellent for Bill, you might ask, and that is an excellent question! Here's where my headcanons come in.

The Nightmare Realm, being a place of chaos and unreality, is mostly influenced by energy rather than physics. Emotional, mental, any kind.

Bill is the most powerful being in the Nightmare Realm,and thus has the most influence over the environment

So say, if Bill associated the sound of static with danger, and the dimension weakening and collapsing, that's exactly what would happen

This also means that Ford, if he wants to be able to control Bills worst fear and also build himself a way out of the Realm, that's exactly what would happen. The NR literally weakened around Ford bc of Bills association with static = weakened dimension

I think you can see where this is heading. Ford slowly gains control over his powers of the Realm, but loses parts of his humanity in the process. (Like his memories) (by the end, he doesn't remember how he got in the NR, only that he needed to leave and destroy Bill)

For obvious reasons, that made his return trip home all the more interesting

[rayvern-sheep]

Oh you know shit’s bad for me when I’ve run out of queued posts…

I have two post in my queue and I only added them today

[lonelysa1lor]

I dont know whether im sleep deprived or just really annoyed about random topics but I need to yell about this somewhere. It was never about Silco forgiving Vander.

Silco didn't bring shimmer in because of his hatred for Vander, he didn't try to kill his kids because he refused to forgive Vander, Silco didn't do any of the shit he did because he didn't forgive Vander. Because in Silco's mind, he's grateful for Vanders Betrayal.

He has a whole monologue about his hatred for Vander becoming something like enlightenment. Silco, in his mind, chooses to believe that Vander's Betrayal is what lead him down a better path. A path that made him ruthless and willing to drag Zaun by it's hair to freedom. He respected Vander for this, for killing the old remnants of whoever Silco was. The Base Violence Necessary for Change.

"And for that, I thank you, Old friend"

His respect for Vander flipped when he learnt that he was working with Enforcers in order to "keep the peace". The very same people a young Vander and Silco were protesting against on that bridge.

Vander was Silcos closest companion, most likely the only person who Silco truly trusted and Vander tried to kill him. Leaving him with one hell of an infection that I'd presume might have been the thing to kill him if Jinx hadn't gotten there first.

Vander then writes the worlds worst apology ever ("sorry for trying to kill you I got a bit silly lmao xoxo"), and then tells Silco that if he wants to find him he should return to what is now Vanders Territory where they can talk alone. I dont know about you guys but I'd think he'd be trying to finish the job.

There is no world where Silco forgiving Vander fixes every issue under the sun, because the issue was never about Silco holding a grudge.

[spel16]

Being easily impressed is honestly something I’m so glad I’ve maintained/conditioned in myself!

Genuinely thinking basically everything is awesome is so awesome!!!

No need to be kind to safe someone’s feelings if you genuinely just think everything is cool!

Does have the fear that it feels like my opinion doesn’t really matter much? But hey if they want critique they can ask for it!

The minimum effort needed to make anything already deserves praise, plus they keep making such genuinely amazing stuff!!!

Learn to be impressed!

[introvert-celeste]

Welp, I can safely say that October and Halloween have been ruined for me. I envy everyone who can actually look forward to the festivities because my heart is just not in it this year :/

[f1owermoon]

sorry i just. need to rant for a second

[gregmarriage]

okay, but dealing with depression and anxiety from a young age completely rots your brain and tricks you into thinking/believing things about yourself that simply aren’t true. for example: i spent literal YEARS thinking i was the ugliest motherfucker alive, like my face was FUCKED. and now, i’m in my twenties and i’m like, bruh you are the most normal looking guy ever

[dramarants]

I've said this before but as much as I was screaming at my screen, this is an opportunity for ttj to raise roots somewhere that not only includes the love of his life but also relationships without ridonkulous power imbalances among a supportive community and a new way of life outside the expectations set upon him since birth. who knows, maybe he'll choose to embrace his devil god fate lord knows the tension would not only be palpable but sexy af or maybe he'll become the supreme ultimate botanical sword master but he finally gets to be an active agent of his own life, choosing people, values, and goals for his own future, and hopefully, his journey (and lss's own growth returning + learning her identity) will reunite them knowing they're stronger, happier, and simply uplift each other when together. ttj's enduring love surmounted death and five centuries of agony to bring him to her place in the immortal realm, now it's up to them to figure themselves out and truly make it their home.

[vulpixelates]

today's goals: stop tummy hurty before our new fridge gets delivered and come up w a damn name for my latest ttrpg character so i can start doing more work on her backstory and play her finally

[slimyenemy]

can't stand writing stupid serious posts about horrors and vulnerabilities by the way because they'll see them and take advantage of that and say something weird sad and shoot me in the head again while i'm literally just sleeping i'm so tired

[modernpygmalion]

Gave him the boot

Ended it with my fwb today bc the steady realization i have been in love with my ex best friend who i blocked and ghosted a year ago is too much for me to bear, even tho Johnathan was going to be a lot of fun bc he was into the exact same kinks as me in the exact same way and matched my freak to an eerie degree

So im gonna just kinda settle into maybe becoming one of those professional yeaners who still pine over their homoerotic object of affection like 70 years later. Wish me luck, I might become a published poet in like 5 years if i can channel whatever this is constructively!

[nullians]

Hmmm… let’s pretend this is the same face XD

Edit: found the very first “Noir” design so throwing it in here to ponder the changes. It’s a bit funny that they and the latest one are doing pretty much the same gesture 🫴