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The anguish has begun and I'm only a half hour into my shift

I'm gonna be at work ALL DAY tomorrow so I'm gonna miss e8 dropping AUUUUUUUGH

I'm going insane

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I'm gonna be at work ALL DAY tomorrow so I'm gonna miss e8 dropping AUUUUUUUGH

I'm going insane

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Tomorrow.

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Scar-Gazing

Duke headcanons bundled up in a half fic half character study, let me know if you enjoy because I may post more writing in the future ⭐

Duke's scar itched sometimes, the one scrawled across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Never too bad, no— just as a reminder of sorts.

That he was alive, he supposed.

It felt kind of ridiculous to Duke, but he sometimes found it comforting. It was no secret that the man flirted with death often, be it through the horrors of war or his own stupidity, so that familiar itch became just that: familiar.

But that night, tumbling words illuminated by a roaring campfire and escaping all-too-fast to stop?

Duke's scar burned like the day it was carved into his skin.

Crackling under the pitiful eyes of his teammates, heat spilling through his veins, he excused himself alongside his messy past to track down Izzy.

To run damage control yet again.

To stargaze.

Memories, thoughts, emotions: none were distinguishable to the man pressed against a wall— tucked into the darkest corner of the base with the best view of the sky. Constellations danced in and out of view as Duke made feeble attempts to identify a few. His face hurt, but the stars were a nice distraction.

They always were.

His older sister used to love the stars when they were kids, always dragging Duke out to the backyard and pointing excitedly to the sky.

"Look, look! There's the Big Dipper!"

Orion snapped his belt, and suddenly Duke's eyes were burning as well. The stars blurred, and the fire raged on.

His scar didn't feel helpful anymore, no— it felt like an omen.

A failure.

The dawn of the terrifying realization that Duke was getting worse again.

That he was growing too comfortable here.

That he was becoming a victim of his vice.

And that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't unlike his old man after all.

Duke didn't feel warm after that. In fact, an icy cold had flooded his skin, sinking into his chest and wrapping its sharp tendrils around his ribs. He choked on the air, pleading with the stars.

He could get better, he knew he could. He just needed time.

"So did he," the stars replied, "so did he."

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It was very scary I had to rewrite it and everything and then it actually posted the original so I had to choose which one I wanted to delete and all in all I think I'm one step closer to an early grave

Tumblr ate my post omfg I'm so sad

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oh god oh jeez someone stop me

[awaywthwords]

Scar-Gazing

Duke headcanons bundled up in a half fic half character study, let me know if you enjoy because I may post more writing in the future ⭐

Duke's scar itched sometimes, the one scrawled across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Never too bad, no— just as a reminder of sorts.

That he was alive, he supposed.

It felt kind of ridiculous to Duke, but he sometimes found it comforting. It was no secret that the man flirted with death often, be it through the horrors of war or his own stupidity, so that familiar itch became just that: familiar.

But that night, tumbling words illuminated by a roaring campfire and escaping all-too-fast to stop?

Duke's scar burned like the day it was carved into his skin.

Crackling under the pitiful eyes of his teammates, heat spilling through his veins, he excused himself alongside his messy past to track down Izzy.

To run damage control yet again.

To stargaze.

Memories, thoughts, emotions: none were distinguishable to the man pressed against a wall— tucked into the darkest corner of the base with the best view of the sky. Constellations danced in and out of view as Duke made feeble attempts to identify a few. His face hurt, but the stars were a nice distraction.

They always were.

His older sister used to love the stars when they were kids, always dragging Duke out to the backyard and pointing excitedly to the sky.

"Look, look! There's the Big Dipper!"

Orion snapped his belt, and suddenly Duke's eyes were burning as well. The stars blurred, and the fire raged on.

His scar didn't feel helpful anymore, no— it felt like an omen.

A failure.

The dawn of the terrifying realization that Duke was getting worse again.

That he was growing too comfortable here.

That he was becoming a victim of his vice.

And that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't unlike his old man after all.

Duke didn't feel warm after that. In fact, an icy cold had flooded his skin, sinking into his chest and wrapping its sharp tendrils around his ribs. He choked on the air, pleading with the stars.

He could get better, he knew he could. He just needed time.

"So did he," the stars replied, "so did he."

[awaywthwords]

Tumblr ate my post omfg I'm so sad

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my duke facecanon is transient, ever-changing, like water .

i need a consistent blorbo !!!!!!!

but im indecisive!

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CRASH Episode 8 PREVIEW!

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///Spoilers??

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coming out of my caaaaage

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man.... every now and again I remember the duke-centric animation that I storyboarded...

would be cool if I ever finished it

he was always my favorite character, from the very beginning

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New (small) CRASH video tomorrow

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take a shot every time church threatens to kill himself over the course of the show

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Happy Wes Tuesday!

Sparkle on! It's Tuesday! Don't forget to be yourself!

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WIP

I can’t do this anymore spartan armor is too sharp too intricate too much

I have been hit with curse of FPS-game-based-fandoms