#crash out continues

[confinedinthisflesh]

yeah we get it you got annoyed with your audience referring to this show as the no one dies show and how they know no ones gonna die and blah blah blah

but what you failed to realize is we all we're still like enthralled and interacting with the show and worried about these moments where it got too close, even though we KNEW nothing was gonna be fatal, because we enjoy for the moments surrounding the nde's, that's where the writing can really shine

and to take that away for some thrill of being smarter than your audience leaves a bad taste in my mouth

[inevitablestars]

alone and still on edge fuck this

[kylominis]

A heart, pure, flawless--and filled with love. [🧜‍♂️]

[drsantosgf]

"so confused how they're gonna make eddie gay with all the other stuff going on 😭" HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THAT THEY'RE FUCKING NOT? HAVE YOU CONSIDERED YOU GOT PLAYED? HAVE YOU CONSIDERED THE FUCKING ECHO CHAMBER YOU SIT IN IS FULL OF LIES?

[namelessgakusei]

Noi! The Clara Dolls!

All Hail The Nutcracker Witch!

Mark Grayson x reader

Warnings: Death, Violence, mentions of suicide, Blood, Invincible War, Gaku's attempt at writing PTSD and Body Horror, Reader crashing out, another one of Gaku's looong posts

Mada Dame Yo (prev)

Sis Puella Magica! (cont.)

Notes: Just came home from school and Gaku's really, really tired. Nearly fell asleep before even writing this. Might proofread and edit when I wake up tomorrow. Angst first, fluff later. (Gaku, in fact, gave up and went to sleep)

Add. Note: Gaku of the next day here, still tired from uni, but I got home earlier than expected lmao. Accidentally posted this while incomplete OTL. I initially wanted this as an interlude but crammed the witching out by the end. Gaku's too tired.

@weaponxgames @sweet77kellia @starlightchildsworld

"Goodbye, hill of punishment."

Mainstream!Mark is kind. He's a bit shy but it's evident that he genuinely loves you. You bit your lower lip and forced a smile whenever he looks at your way. It was hard, at first, as you always remember him.

At first it was peaceful. Debbie's safe, which you noted that was quite rare, given the amount of times you saw her decayed corpse in the previous realities. Oliver's here too, a surprise that nearly broke you down. You only met him less than a handful of times, with him not even existing in the others. He's still the same kid that you grew to love and was your constant ally in every timeline that he's in.

William, Amber, Rex, Eve- Oh, god. Eve. You missed her. There were only a few realities that you were able to be friends with her. Mark kills her too soon, or she dies protecting Earth with you. You remember her being the first person you confided about your experiences, and when you thought to have hope when she expressed her understanding and desire to help, a version of Mark beheads her in front of you.

The memory makes you sick. You didn't dare to tell anyone about it after that, opting to work alone and involve little to no people with your business. You agreed to work with multiple Cecils just for a chance to wipe of the existence of Mark Grayson off the planet. But, alas, you end up dying or resetting time in the end.

Mark gets fidgety whenever you get too quiet, hanging into your every word like an overly eager child, desperate for acknowledgment. You let yourself wonder if he'll even kill himself if you asked to. At least then, maybe you'll be able to escape this nightmare.

But you're too in love with him to even live a second without him.

Maybe you had gone crazy too.

A sigh and a chuckle escapes your lips, confusing Mark, who was reading the newly released Seance Dog volume. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just, everything is peaceful. I like it."

This world isn't entirely without its own fair share of troubles and aliens and villains, but compared to the shit you've been through? This is fucking nothing.

You managed to help the Guardians in the nick of time when Omni-Man turned on Earth, revealing your abilities in this world for the first time. While the heroes were saved, you were not-so-subtly recruited by Cecil to join the Teen Team. You know how the man operates, having met at least a hundred different versions of him. You suppressed a laugh when he looks like he got his head running with contingency plans about you. Never change, Mr. Stedman.

Mark was amazed and invested in knowing more about your abilities. Trying to study you and "help" you understand your powers more. Why didn't you tell him? How long did you have it? How were you able to control time like that? You were so cool back there!

You want to tell him that you got experimented in Viltrum on the one time you told him about these strange abilities of yours. But you settled for saying that it's a long story and that you recently acquired them, not wanting to scare him off.

You think that he was simply ignoring what just happened with his father, opting to choose you over him in his mind. Coward.

It makes you sick.

You lay on his bed, rolling to the side while Mark went to get snacks. He seems a bit clingy in this world, or maybe it's because you look like you're on the verge of slipping away with how exhausted you always look. You sigh.

Your soul gem always look murky whenever you check on it.

It's an artifact that came with the ring on your middle finger, and appears at the back of your hand whenever you use your powers, with your clothes changing alongside the shield appearing on your arm. You don't know how or why, but even if you were beaten to a pulp, you don't feel anything. You're not even injured at the slightest. You know this, because you tried to take your own life once. Your body still functions even when your neck was bent, making you think that you were also immortal.

You weren't and you thanked your cursed fate that you weren't. That small gem you have in you was were your soul is at. You get hurt when it's touched the wrong way, and while you don't bleed, you feel excruciating pain. Your body is merely a meat sack now.

Does it matter?

No. But it sure came in handy when you were fighting against Mark after you figured it out, at least then, you don't have to worry about broken limbs.

You kept racking your brain about the cause of your situation, your powers and the looping timelines. You barely remember. Mark came back, pouting about the crease on your brows, before slipping in bed burying his head on your neck.

"What are you thinking about?"

"...Do you know an animal who can talk?"

Mark snorted and said a parrot but you shook your head, saying that it looked more like a white cat with red markings. He hugged you closer and mentioned that it might've been an alien.

Huh. Perhaps it was an alien. You remember it asking if you want to make a contract with it. Did you? Is that why you're trapped in this hell?

...Is it really one now?

For all it's worth, everything has been going smoothly in this run. Sure, Nolan's gone off the rails, but you saved the Guardians of the Globe! Oliver exists! Debbie's safe! Eve's alive! William and Amber are living normally! The Teen Team, sure still has problems, is still functioning! Cecil might still be a pain in the ass but with how many variants of him you spent time with, you consider him an old friend and even appreciate how he checks in on you.

Earth is not destroyed.

Isn't this the ideal world? Did you finally arrived at the best possible version? Will this finally end?

You look down and see the familiar tuff of black hair. The urge to run your hands through it is always within you, no matter if he's killing people or you, you really can't seem to loathe him enough to remove your feelings for him.

Will you finally be able to be happy?

You hugged Mark, burying your nose to his hair and inhaling his scent, earning a surprised sound from him. He doesn't protest nor ask, only reciprocating with a mumble of "Finally.", before humming in content.

This world, this Mark, they may not be the one you started with, where you originated and first loved, but it's slowly stared to grow on you.

Mark doesn't question it when you started interacting with everyone on your own accord. Initially, you only talk to others when it's necessary, making them hunt you down if they so want just a small conversation with you. But now, you're discussing something with Robot that made them back away from your smirking face. You're teasing them??

He thinks it's cute when you barely mask your excitement when you tell him that you'll be out with Eve and Amber for the weekend. You're even laughing with Oliver over some shows you two watch whenever you're babysitting him. He caught you and his mom gossiping about something that he apparently wasn't allowed to hear??? The hell?? He's the boyfriend here! He's happy you're finally getting out of your shell and not shutting the world out but he has his needs, mom! Boyfriend needs! Hugs and kisses!

He barely got you to agree to go out with him in the first place! You looked so disinterested and detached when he asked you out that he was so sure you didn't even want to be with him, it was only when you kept fussing and saving his ass that he figured out that you're really just the quiet type. But this?? He's hearing you laugh everyday! That's usually once every three months! (He is exaggerating.)

Though, he isn't complaining, smiling to himself even, as he watches you from across the room, fighting the urge to come over and cling to you. Your eyes met and you're... smiling at him. Not the forced ones that look too soulless to be convincing, you're genuinely smiling at him.

Mark buries his head on his arms and giggles, ears going red as his leg bounces excitedly.

The sight made you laugh at the other side of the room. It was... something. He's adorable. You don't know why you were so distant back then. He is nothing like them.

Nothing's like back then. Not anymore.

Not anymore. The thought still makes you nauseous, too reluctant to start hoping for the best. Who would blame you? Every time you start to have faith that everything will be better, that you'll finally have peace, you see his face—

No, this one isn't like that. Mark isn't like that. This is the one who quietly waited for you to open up. This is the one who never pried too much and lets you let him in at your own pace. He's the one who sat beside you when you wake up in cold sweat, riddled with nightmares. He's the one who let you use his shoulder to rest your head when you can't seem to sleep at night, who tucked the both of you to bed when you fell asleep.

He's kind. You give him that. Everytime you look at him, you slowly start to forget the bad memories associated with that face.

You don't see him anymore.

You see Mark Grayson.

...That is until Cecil called you.

Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson. Mark Grayson.

Everywhere you look, it's that damned face.

One with a yellow cape, one with a mohawk, one without goggles, one who wears the white Viltrumite uniform, one who looks like Omni Man, one who was a prisoner, one who hide his face with a hood, one who—

It's him.

Him again! Why? Why is he here? Why did he have to appear now?! Why? Why?! You... you just accepted your life here! You moved on! You have a life here! You...

Cecil orders you to subdue the Variants.

Subdue them. Subdue him. Can you do that? Can you even fight him? After all those times— Can you—?

They're everywhere. All over the world, bringing destruction with them. Showing you the same scenario that you lived through in all those realities.

Earth's destruction.

Mark tries to snap you out of it, telling you to go hide with Debbie and Oliver, that he'll handle it. He gave you a kiss before flying off to the Penitentiary. You saw a similar situation before. One where Mark told you that he'll fight off the Viltrumite Empire but ended up as a mangled corpse not a minute later.

Everything's going wrong again.

Cecil bark orders at you from your earpiece, but you can't hear it. Debbie's calling you from your phone, but you don't move to answer it. You move past the fleeing civilians, past the rubble and fire, and towards the veiled Mark in the middle of the street.

He's fighting off the heroes that surrounded him. He's all bloody but from how it looks like, with the heroes falling down the ground, it's not his.

"Mark."

Sheisty!Mark brightens up at the sound of your voice, despite the lack of visual on his face. Before he can zoom in front of you, you activated your ability and stared at his frozen form. His form looks like he's about to punch someone, taut muscles that peeks through his skin tight suit and the veil flew just the right way for you to have a glimpse of how flushed his face is. A lovesick expression is evident on his face.

Will you not be able to escape this fate?

You're tired.

When will the destruction and screams stop?

When will this end?

Your power runs out, continuing the flow of time. Sheisty!Mark pulls you to his bloodied chest, muttering words too fast for you to hear, all while running his hands around your body, like you aren't real.

You hoped you weren't.

Your use of power must've alerted the rest of the Variants, with them immediately flying to where you are, hovering just above to drink in the sight.

You were the sole reason as to why the eighteen Marks made a deal with Angstrom, after all.

And now, they can finally have you back.

Damned bastards.

You hear your named being yelled, but you don't know who it came from. You don't care anymore. Why should you? It all ends the same.

You're tired.

You're tired. You're tired. You're tired. When will this end? Stop this. Someone, anyone—

Save me, Mark.

The you in Sheisty!Mark's arms dissolved into a puddle, momentarily stunning the Variants around. Said puddle now expands throughout the asphalt road, coating everything in black until it reaches the sky. No more are the sounds of buildings crashing down from being destroyed nor are the sounds people who cry for help. One might say that the world became akin to the Shadow-verse. Until colorful shapes start to appear in the darkened world.

Buildings started emerging from the ground, destroying the roads and initial constructions. Laughter ran around the streets as paper doll-like creatures frolicked the desolate area, pointing and taunting the Variants.

Multiple arms reach out from the murky darkness, each out for a Mark. They can't fight it, no, they're incapable of doing so. They're in your world now.

With gentle hands, you cup his face and smiled. Wearing an expression so soft and speaking in a tone that he hadn't heard in a long time, Mark can't help but lean in, expecting something even in the middle of uncertainty.

How pathetic.

Your lips but ghost his', leaving him confused.

"I realized something during our time together." You started, still holding his face, eyes right into his own.

"You were always there for me, for better and for worse. You loved me throughout it all. It was always me and you."

"Oh, how I loathed that."

"How I hated you with every fiber of my being."

Your gem breaks, and your smiling face exploded on their faces, coating it with red.

Reality seemed to wrap around, changing the surroundings like how a theatre changes the set. Some of the Marks screamed in terror upon your "death" while some wiped the blood off and prepared for battle.

He once said that you were always full of surprises.

And now, you give them your final one. The blood from earlier suddenly shot out of them, forming something midair while a march is heard in the distant direction, heading to their direction. When your body was reformed, the small humanoid soldiers took aim and hit at you.

Your body convulsed from the barrage of bullets and promptly fell to the ground. Even as the Variants pummeled the soldiers down, their numbers doesn't dwindle, and soon what was left of your body is mutilated beyond recognition. FullMask!Mark and NoMask!Mark rushed to your side, and with trembling fingers, reached out on your remains.

Your head snapped to their direction, riddled with bullet holes, before your jaw snaps open and another you climbs out of it. With only half of your body out, you suddenly faced the sky and forced your jaw open, enabling another you to be able come out. The process repeats until a tower of your own body stands tall in the middle of the dark city.

The remaining soldiers ignored the Variants that still fought them, opting to march towards the grotesque tower, surrounding it.

"(Y/N)!"

You know only one who would call out to you like that.

"Ah... Mark..." You looked down at Mainstream!Mark and smiled longingly.

The last body to come out of your mouth screamed bloody murder, before being torn in half. Like a curtain being opened, a giant creature emerged from the bloodbath.

Bearing a likeness to you, with half of their head filled with red spider lilies and their wrists bound together like a prisoner, the Nutcracker Witch finally appeared.

[miyanaxxi]

I think it'd be so fucking funny if Gren saw/met Runaan after returning from Lux Aurea post-S7, but he doesn't yet know that Rayla is Runaan's daughter.

"Oh, hey, I remember you. From the dungeon. When you got trapped in the coin."

And Rayla just s l o w l y turns around.

[mystycalypso]

You're fueling my Ok Ko obsession.. /pos :)

Good. I refuse to suffer alone. /pos

In all seriousness, I'm so glad that people are enjoying my special interest. Like don't get me wrong, I'd still be posting this stuff if got zero notes because- I'm insane and need to draw them. All of them. All the time. Forever. But knowing that there are other people in this fandom who like me are hungry for content and are still mourning the show all these years later is so awesome. Heck, being here for new fans is just as, if not even more, incredible. The impact this shows had on me, my sense of humor, my speech (Sorey Kaydin that I've spread it to you), my artstyle, etc is like- so much, and sharing that with others is so fun. And every time I get a reply notification, or an ask, or even a reblog with extra text in the tags, I giggle and kick my feet, yknow like every grown man does lol. One of those "Wow, I'm not just shouting into the void" moments, but more like being on stage during a choir concert and occasionally seeing a friendly face. I see you all and it's only fueling my own drive further I hope you all know that.

(I really need to stop getting so sappy every time I get a nice ask/reblog /j)

Take more snake-man art/headcanons to feed yourselves my friends.

1. Sniff

So, despite literally being a snake, this is a very cat-like thing because he has a regular nose as well. Whenever there's a scent he want to take in more deeply or to remember better, he uses his tongue. (If you didn't know cats open their mouth while smelling to take in scents better, now you do!)

2. Shedding

As my friend who likes doodling Boxman put it, "It's his time of the month" (except it only happens a couple of times a year), and similar to that, it doesn't just last during the actual shedding. Usually, there's a week or so where his skin slowly starts to become scalier, and lighter in appearance (along with his eyes clouding over) his scalp becomes full of dandruff, and it's distractingly itchy. Similar to say, a healing sunburn. He's a lot more touchy during this period as well, it's rather annoying. He will stay mostly in his office with humidifiers on to help the process, the few days after he sheds he's rather euphoric, moving around a lot more and is much more likely to just agree with any idea thrown out no matter how improbable or even stupid it may be.

He usually just throws away his shed but has repeatedly considered using the DNA in it for projects.

3. Coiling

This one's rather simple. Snakes like coiling around things/people they enjoy obviously because of their height difference climbing on Boxman isn't an option, so instead pressing against him, wrapping limbs around while lying down, shoulder touching, and general snaking around him, and even having Boxman climb him are comforting and a love language. A silent way of saying he enjoys his presence and being around him.

And finally...

4. Post situation embarrassment

Like I've said, his snake-ing out seems to be heavily linked to his emotions, especially negative ones. And even normally after lashing out there tends to be a feeling of embarrassment, Especially if it's towards someone you love. And when it's combined with those rattlesnake tendencies, it's even worse. How do you apologize after blowing up at someone and using what is technically a defense mechanism to try and threaten them? What about when it's not a conscious move but just instinct in the moment? Would you have attacked if him throwing a T-shirt on your head hadn't genuinely stunned you? How are you meant to be normal about hissing at the man you have a crush on? Or your ex-girlfriend? Or ever?!

[swan2swan]

Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous

Running Gag: Yaz Crashes the Car

It's a scientific fact that if you put Yaz in control of a wheeled vehicle, eventually, you will no longer have a vehicle. It may be deliberate, it may be the fault of the vehicle, she may not even be in the driver's seat, but if any insurance company were to find out, her premiums will be through the roof.

[lorelune]

good evening gamers i need to lock the fuck in

[rriverdrawss]

Shout out to Optimus for keeping me humble bc I’ve been fighting with her helm design since I first designed her

Where I am rn

There is no winning with her-

Don’t even get me started on her mask design bc that’s a whole different story-

[mstrickster]

In general I feel Kremy would be the center of most of the group's crash outs. Also this may inspire a fic. One where the horrors manifest as his friends like this to Kremy.

Gideon:

I already covered this by Gideon's crash would probably be about Kremy not listening to him. Now I don't believe Kremy is evil, he very gray in my eyes. However in rage I could definitely see Gideon blaming Kremy for what happened to Twig. If he really wanted to hurt him he could tell Kremy that "Maybe things would have been better if you hadn't left Garou in the frist place." This would really twist the knife.

Frost:

Frost has never been one to pander to Kremy. At least not like Gideon. So, I can see his crash being about Kremy and how he calls himself the leader/boss. If Frost was really pissed he would go "You're not a fucking leader, you're a scared little gator who couldn't be real if he tried." I could also see Frost going on about how Kremy has led them into more bullshit and if he actually listened and got his head out of his ass. They would be home.

Gricko:

I feel like Gricko would be the last one to snap but it would happen because Kremy would overlook his reasoning for something or he would downplay what happened to Hootsie. If he it was the former, I feel like Gricko's anger would be cold and icy. Kinda like the scene where Kremy says "you will not talk to my husband that way." Gricko or Gideon will be that hit harder. Gricko because he's always joking around and Gideon because he's Kremy's best friend. Which is why I could see either of them saying "I wish I'd never fucking met you."

Torbek: Imo Torbek is the one who most deserves a crash out against Kremy. From the moment they met Kremy has used him. Even said the only reason he kept him around was because he's the only one who survived the fall at the Harris wheel. So Not only would Torbek' crash out be warranted and deserved. But he would also have a lot of material to hurt Kremy. We bring up everything he bring up the Harris wheel. He would bring up the fact that Kremy knew he was going to be taken away on guys night. He could even indirectly blame Kremy for the experimentation. He could basically destroy Kremy and say "you never cared about me you only use me because I was strong."

And Kremy....Kremy would believe them. Because Kremy never believed he could have comforts like friends. He probably hears Garou in his head all the time. Berating him like he did when Kremy was under him. Kremy wouldn't fight back or ask them to stay. He would either lash out or completely breakdown. Because at the end of the day Kremy believes everyone will leave. The only question is when.

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Hey it's tuesday again by the way! And this time I am not sorry for bugging you unless you already did it and I just didn't find the post

YOU THREE. I adore you. I gotta be honest I was in SUCH a slump I was NOT feelin tidbit Tuesday today. but yall are so sweet for wantin to read my nonsense I pulled my ass up by my boot straps n cranked out a lil micro fic for yall. absolutely love yall 💕🧡

The porch door slams closed hard enough to make Darry jump. Though maybe that ain't sayin' much. His nerves worn down 'n shot through. Nowadays, the echoin' note of Two's unexpected laugh is enough to make him flinch. Or the absence of things he's used to. (The laundry basket is lighter now. He's never gonna get used to that feelin'.)

Pony stalks in, shoulders already drawn up 'round his ears. It doesn't take a second look for Darry to guess the way the night'll go. He kicks off his boots haphazardly in the middle of the kitchen, doesn't bother to push them against the wall.

His eyes slide up 'n over Darry once. Just enough to know it passes over his nerves, presses lightly against 'em. The kid is askin' for somethin'. A fight. An argument. To be told off. God knows. Much less Darry. He's too tired for that. He always is. Since. Well.

"Hi Pony." Soda calls through the doorway, glancin' off the TV playin' some rerun movie. He's got his knees all pulled up into his chest, head laid down on 'em. Soda's quieter. Since.

"Hiya, Soda." He's not lettin' it get to him. He ain't. The kids in a foul mood. He's obliged to 'em now 'n then. It's fine. He wants to pretend Darry ain't there? That's fine.

"You get your test grade back, Pone?" He hopes the nickname will settle the kid's hackles. Soften the question. He doesn't want a fight. He doesn't have the energy.

Pony turns hard on his heel. Narrows his eyes hard, feelin' out for an attack. He scowls, dives a hand down into his bag 'n all but throws the test on the table.

A D. Minus. The aggravation pricks hard against Darry's skin. He needs to try harder. Or at all. He should have passed this. Easy. He knew the answers.

"Pony. Why-"

"What? What do you want me to say? I'm sorry? I ain't. I failed. I don't care." Darry should have expected it. He really should have. But the sudden lash of words catches him hard off guard. The familiar anger rises quickly. Like an old wound.

"You just never seem to use your fuckin'-" Darry cuts himself off. Glances through the open doorway to Soda. He's got his back all drawn up ramrod straight, pulled taut like a puppet on a string, head swiveled just enough that they can pretend he's actually payin' attention to the beach flick 'n not every careful word of the gearin' up argument in the kitchen.

"What?" Pony snaps his jaw once, impatiently. He's ready for a fight. Has been all afternoon. Patiently pushin' 'n pluckin' on Darry's last nerve 'til he snaps.

No. He isn't doin' it on purpose. He isn't. He's fourteen. 'N he's upset. Darry heaves in a deep breath through his nose. Pushes it back out slowly. Soda nods. Doesn't tear his eyes away from the tube. Tries to encourage him without steppin' in. 'Cause nothin' will make Pony snap like thinkin' Soda ain't on his side.

Pony opens his mouth again, snaps it shut. He picked that up from Dallas. Tumbles through his brain in a rush 'n he feels suddenly sick to his stomach.

"C'mon Darry. You wanna tell me somethin'? That I don't use my head? I never use my head enough for you. Nothin' I do makes you happy."

"Pony." Soda whips his head around, snaps. For a moment Pony backs down, looks past Darry 'n into the pleadin' eyes of his older brother. They weren't s'pposed to fight no more. For Soda. For all of 'em. 'Cause they had so little left.

"But-"

"Ponyboy." It falls out of his mouth harsher than he means it to. 'Cause Darry was always rough without meanin' to be. But he's sick of the kid wheedlin'.

"What? You wanna holler at me? What is it this time? Walkin' home alone? Not gettin' perfect grades?" He rounds on Darry with anger so sudden 'n sharp Darry could put a hand out 'n touch it. When had his little brother gotten so fuckin' angry? Did he do that?

"Pony." Soda half rises, a warnin' note low in his voice. But it falls on deaf ears. Pony's fists curl up 'n he takes a half step toward Darry, drawin' himself up on every inch he has.

"What? Tell me what to do to make you happy, Darry. Oh. I know. Get over it. Buck up. Just pretend nothin' happened like you?"

"Pony." The name comes out half strangled in Darry's mouth. 'Cause he did do that. He upset his baby brother. He always upset him.

"I bet you wish it had been me. Huh. I bet you wish it had been me instead of Dal or Johnny. I bet you sit up prayin it had been me." 'N the second the words are out of his mouth Pony's teeth clash back together, hands risin' to his lips like he could pull them from the air 'n shove them back down his throat.

Soda's shot from the couch at some point, hovers in the doorway, minute tremors that runs from his shoulders down his arms, rattle down his wrists. "Ponyboy."

But his name is swallowed up 'n swallowed down 'cause Darry don't holler. Don't shout. Takes a single step back 'n crashes straight down to the tile. There's a scuff by his knee. Dallas' too big boots. The scar in the grout from the chair Johnny used to occupy. The sound of Pony's voice in waves wish it'd been me, wish it'd been me, wish it'd been me.

"Darry?" Pony sinks down to his knees, Soda straight alongside him. There are hands on Darry's shoulders but he don't notice them, too busy pressin' palms to his eyes 'til stars explode across his vision. He can't cry. He fuckin' can't. Pony needs him to be strong. Pony needs him-

He doesn't. The force of it strangles off his breath. Chokes 'til he gasps for air 'n forgiveness 'n the power to change it all.

"Darry please." Soda's wrapped all around him. He can't do this to Soda. Pony might not need him but God Soda didn't deserve for him to fall to fuckin' pieces like this.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't know what to do anymore. I can't just- I don't-"

"Shhh, Darry. Shh. C'mon. Desperate hands runnin' up 'n down his spine but when he looks up he knows his eyes are red rimmed 'n wild.

Pony. His fingers diggin' vainly, scrabblin' against the linoliem. Stock still like a doe. His brows knit together, his lips move but don't say nothin'. A faint noise. Somewhere strangled deep in his throat. He sounds so, god. So young. Where had the time gone? Could he go back? What can he give? To go back?

"I love you. God kid I love you. I don't know what to do." 'N then he's rockin' back with the force of Pony hittin' his chest, curlin' into his arms 'n the memory of that kid that begged Darry to read him to sleep 'n who buried his head in Darry's neck when he skinned his knee is still there. "I'm sorry, kiddo. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry-"

"No." His fingers knot in Darry's shirt 'n he presses his face so hard into Darry's neck Darry can feel his eyes as they flutter, the tears hot down his cheeks. "I'm sorry."

"I know." 'N then he's got Soda scooped up in his arms too, both his kid brothers pressed close 'n it hurts. God. Maybe it never stops hurtin'. Maybe they'll have the same argument a thousand times. Maybe tomorrow or next week or next month they will snipe at each other again. There will always be some failed test. Some shoe left in the doorway.

Maybe Darry 'n Pony will always be a lil' too alike to not fight. But he holds them close tonight. 'N makes sure they know.

"I love you. Both. I'm sorry."

[qoldenskies]

i hope it's okay to message you about this (that bringing it up helps, not makes it worse)

it's about the people who've been being dicks about your writing

this popped up in my dash really soon after your boundaries post, and holy shit the timing

the people criticizing your work need to have this vacuum-sealed onto their brains

not just the people unable to curate their own experiences, but also the people being overly critical of the technical side

i'm gonna be super pretentious and pull the "my mom is an english major" card to try and make myself sound more Qualified To Judge when i say---- your works are REALLY good

you may not be a mainstream-famous author with 30+ years of experience, but seriously, if it weren't for the copyright issue, it would be *more* than quality enough to publish

-with a *good* publisher

so many people love it, and it's also better, from a technical standpoint, than most novels you could pick up at random in a bookstore

because it has a *depth* to it that's so hard to achieve

it anchors its hooks into your mind and steadily reels you in as the darkening atmosphere slowly- almost imperceptibly, at first- curdles, gradually infusing liquid ice, drop by drop, into your blood

the further you read, the further the dread deepens, smoothly and organically, like a spreading puddle of rot seeping from the belly of a discarded carcass

it's so *realistic* in its gradual nature that it feels like you're watching the nightmare develop in real time

it sucks you in

it gets to the point where it feels like the angst has peaked, sucking the breath straight from your lungs- and then the tension *just keeps climbing*, the dread crystallizing into sickly cold shards down your spine with each additional scene until it all shatters at once and you're left trying to remember how to breathe

it's the sort of story that makes you have to stop and stare at the ceiling for several minutes after reading, just to process

whatever people have been criticizing and nitpicking about, it, doesn't change the fact that only *really well written* stories are able to grip your heart and wring it out on your shoes like that, and you should *absolutely* be proud

it's so good

this is so kind ;~; this is probably the most descriptive praise ive ever gotten of any of my writing and idek what to say. need to ss this and squirrel it away somewhere or something cause waow

[premamelody]

the passed down asgore hug is inescapable

[adhdevankinard]

I come back from a long work meeting and Eddie has a secret child w Ana and he’s running away to Texas with them after saving them during a building collapse

[youarejeff]