#stoneface tyler

[stonefacesmilesalways]

thanks, babe, i hate it

[yukipage]

First 2/3 of a Markiplier Makes video: everyone goofing around, throwing indgrediants in bowls and at each other, insulting the camera man and Amy

Last 1/3 of a Markiplier Makes video: legitimate critique from all parties, insightful commentary, humble acknowledgement of the best dish without complaints

[sweetnestor]

this is not a dream #9 | stop you’re scaring me

the real reason ethan was taken under the teamiplier wing | teamiplier/ego au

WARNINGS: suicide, murder, blood, self harm, drug abuse, alcoholism, sex addiction

read at your own risk.

previous.

Needless to say, Ethan had to pay for the damage. After Kathryn helped him clean up, he left behind whatever cash he could get ahold of and fled. He took his flight to Maine a little earlier than planned - that’s what he told the group chat, anyway.

The only thing is, he didn’t remember sending that message. He didn’t remember leaving, either.

To say that Ethan was shell shocked by his own actions was a bit of an understatement. He knew he had a knack for destruction every so often, but to break an entire couch with his bare hands? To cause damage through screams like El on Stranger Things? Hell, to fucking kill more innocent people?

Yes, over the last few months, Ethan found himself crying in some alley covered in blood because he took another life. He always called the team, and they helped him every time. Maybe that’s why he never left. He wouldn't know how to clean up his own mess and get away with it. He didn't even know how the team got away with it. To the public eye, these people were just YouTubers. Influencers. Idols. Good people.

That thought made Ethan's insides turn heavy. He was considered good people too. People online thought he was good people. Maybe some of those people were dead because of that thing, he would never know.

He was stronger than he thought, and he couldn’t control it. He was dangerous. He was bad. He should be on every kind of medication, or even locked up. He should be dead, but we all know how that ends up.

Was he going to turn himself in, though? Ethan sat in his car, parked in an abandoned lot on the outskirts of LA. He didn’t take anything with him when he left. He didn’t have any sort of getaway plan. He couldn’t even think. He didn’t remember getting into the car. This stupid thing did everything for him and landed him here. Didn't even get him very far.

Ethan just wanted to know why this was happening.

“I told you to stop this,” he spoke at last. He was sweating and shaking, breathing so hard that the windows fogged up. He couldn’t help but think of each time he saw one of his friends in this state. Did they feel as shaken up as he did in this moment?

Maybe he had to go back and talk to them. Ethan sat up in his seat and shook himself. He wiped away the tears and slapped his cheeks a few times, trying to get himself together again. He’d have to go back eventually, right?

He turned over the engine and took a deep breath. He had to face the music - the very loud, very disturbing music - eventually. Then, he adjusted the rearview mirror, only to discover a figure  in the backseat. Immediately, Ethan jumped and tumbled out of the vehicle, his heart pounding.

There was a shadow. It was already dark inside the car, but Ethan could make out a shadowy figure in the back. He backed away, terrified, but then he felt something knock him over. An invisible force pushed him on his chest and made him hit the back of his head on the pavement. He landed directly under one of the lamp posts, the light nearly blinding him. Ethan squinted, disoriented. The silhouette of a person stood over him. The outline was oddly familiar, but still terrifying.

Then he felt something hit his chest, making his sternum crack. Slowly, each of his ribs broke one by one. Ethan cried and whimpered, convulsing and cringing.

“Please…” he begged through a strained voice. “I-If you want to kill me… just do it… please. I want this to be over…”

The mumbling filled his ears, sending another wave of intense panic. Ethan tried to bring his hands to his ears, but any movement caused even more pain in his ribs. He started to yell.

“Stop this! Please! I just want this to be over! I'll do anything! Please just stop!”

And then Ethan sat up with a deep gasp. There was nothing standing over him. He didn’t have any pain in his chest or ribs. The only thing that hurt was the back of his head. His car was exactly where he had parked it. He looked around the parking lot, not another person in sight. It was all in his head. Why couldn’t have someone just decided to rob him instead? Why couldn't he have been murdered once and for all?

Cautiously, Ethan got to his feet and dusted himself off. He slowly stepped towards his car, checking the surroundings. He felt weary as he sat inside again. It was more than obvious that something was very, very wrong. He still felt like he being watched. He could still feel the figure in the backseat, even if he couldn’t see it. He already knew what it looked like anyway. He knew what those eyes looked like.

“Please…” he said helplessly as he placed his hands on the steering wheel. “Please… just stop…”

Whatever it was probably grinned wickedly. It's black eyes creased through the mirror. It made every hair on Ethan’s arms and back of his neck stand up.

His face suddenly fell, and his head went limp, hitting the steering wheel. His eyes closed, and when he opened them again, they were pitch black.

~

“I told you guys not to have the party here!” snapped an angry Mark.

He and the team had just arrived to the trashed office on Kathryn’s call. In hindsight, it had seemed like a good idea to show Ethan the truth about what he is. But instead, they ended up with a damaged workplace and a friend who had gone off the radar.

“At this point, it would be easier just to tell him,” Tyler said as he stepped inside the place, gazing at the pile of broken furniture, ruined birthday decorations, and wasted food scooped up under the broken window. He shook his head in disbelief.

“What, and have him think we’re insane?” Mark bitterly replied.

“He thinks he’s the crazy one,” Amy spoke after some silence. For once she wasn’t smoking or shooting up. “His thoughts are so loud, even I can catch them.”

“You sure it’s his thoughts that are causing that?” Her boyfriend’s tone suddenly changed. He grew concerned. “Maybe it’s… you know.”

Amy sighed. “Then we already know what’s gonna happen.” Then she started itching at the side of her neck, noticing her peeling skin. She pulled her hand back and saw her skin getting caked under her nails. Startled, she dug her fingers into her neck again and pulled. A piece of her flesh came off like some stretchy glue. “Shit…”

It wasn’t the first time the team had seen something like this, but it was never easy. Tyler looked away, Kathryn placed her hand over her mouth, and Mark… he just had a look of heartbreak on his face. He knew what this meant, and he never liked it.

“Are you even gonna come back this time?” he asked, a hint of resentment in his tone.

“I always do,” Amy replied, not sounding reassuring at all.

“Okay, so we have to stay put for you,” Kathryn said, diffusing the tension. “Which means we can’t go out and find Ethan.”

“He said he was flying to Maine tonight,” Tyler said. “So we won’t see him for a couple of weeks, right?”

“I checked his apartment,” Mark told him. “Well, I didn’t… but he didn’t take anything with him. He’s still in the city somewhere.”

Thinking about Ethan made him angry all over again. Mark paced around the room, running his hand over his face. He looked at the floor, at the pile of rubble. How could a guy of Ethan’s size do something like this?

“Fucking coward can’t even show his face…”

“Better here than somewhere he could get in legal trouble for,” Tyler pointed out. “We can’t stray too far out these walls, remember?”

“Now we don’t have any walls to stay within!” Mark’s voice echoed. “He’s destructive and out of control!” He cracked his neck. “How long will these fucking mortals keep us waiting?”

Kathryn immediately looked around the room. Any bottle of liquor that had been coveted was now destroyed. She turned towards her boss again, watching his eyes roll into the back of skull just before he collapsed to the floor. This was bad. She slipped out of the room before they could spot her.

As soon as Dark was out, Peevils and Stoneface appeared too. The room went black, and their auras shone bright. The air was tense, angry. Dark was flickering all over the place, making the lights spark and burst.

“I don’t feel good,” Peevils said, out of breath as she slid down to the floor. “I can’t be here for very long.”

“We need you right now,” Dark told her as he appeared standing in front of her. “You’re the most… compassionate of the three of us. When the time is right, you need to be the one to speak to Blank.”

She sighed as she leaned her head back against the wall. “But my mortal… look at her!” She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling out a shocking amount of strands. She scratched at her chest, practically peeling off pieces of skin and leaving red, inflamed flesh underneath. “She’s falling apart. I need to go and fix her.”

“Perhaps, it’s time to find another mortal?” Dark suggested. “This one is… wearing thin. It would be much easier to find a new mortal.”

Peevils looked up, glaring at him. “Mine is wearing thin? Yours is all but-”

“Another time!” Stoneface cut her off. “What about Blank? What about the human? She could help us.”

“The human?” Dark repeated with disgust. “She went to get her friends’ coping items. We know whose side she’s on.”

“So why haven’t we killed her yet?” Peevils wondered. “If she’s so bad, then why haven’t we gotten rid of her?”

Dark looked at her, a hard look on his grey face. “Why would you even ask that?”

The blonde shrugged, unfazed. Then she raised her eyebrows, detecting the first sign of vulnerability, and she read him for the first time. “Oh… I see.”

“What is it?” Stoneface asked.

“Don’t you dare,” Dark growled.

Peevils scoffed and ran her hand through the image, once again reminding herself that she couldn’t touch him. “And what will you do about it? You’re nothing but a hallucination.”

Just as she was about to stand again, she was pushed against the wall. She felt an intense pressure on her neck, and then she was slowly raised up into the air. Her eyes widened in fear as she choked and sputtered, spitting up human blood.

“Dark, stop!” Stoneface yelled, trying to counter the attack with his mind. He succeeded, relieving the pressure.

As soon as Peevils was dropped to the floor, hey greyish yellow aura went away. She kept coughing and gagging, pulling at her hair and neck. Heavier tufts of hair were falling out, and blood kept dripping from her mouth.

“If the mortal goes, then Peevils goes!” Stoneface yelled at Dark, who had appeared by the broken window. “Do you want that?”

Dark merely stood on the other side of the room, his hands behind his back.

“You’re... “ Amy coughed violently. “You’re… nothing… without us…”

And that’s when Kathryn burst through the door again, ready to bring her friends back.

______

next.

[snarkyfinch]

Blank and Stone, embarrassment

Stone watches in horrified embarrassment as his entire drink spills all over his empty-eyed clockwork lover. He’s tempted to shriek, but composes himself and instead rushes to cover Blank in paper towels. If he’s busy cleaning up, maybe he won’t notice how dark Stone’s cheeks have become.

“I am terribly sorry-”“It’s okay,” Blank hums with a grin. “I didn’t like these pants anyway. I think.”Stone, still embarrassed, marvels at how lucky he truly is.

[danthetubadude]

@spaceiplier asked, @spaceiplier recieved.

[iwasbornonamonday112]

SUPER LONG TYLER POST BECAUSE HE’S ‘S PRETTY AND I LOVE HIM!!! (1/2)

(feel free to take any of these screenshots! :DD)

[snarkyowl]

Pinocchio

B provides you with an intro to some new folks ‘round here.

The statue in the center of the garden stood proudly, the flecks of Quartz hidden in its skin making it sparkle, shining brighter than anything else around it. A small bird landed on the statues large, gargoyle-like horns, calling out its song before fluttering away. Rope-like ivy grew up its legs and torso, covering almost all of its lower body, wrapping all around the statue.

Stone was awake, but not moving. He watched as the wind shifted the plants and the sun danced through the small garden, dumbstruck. This was it. This was what it was like to be alive.

The soreness of having spent the last two years in the same pose had started to creep through his arms, which were extended up to the rising sun. Slowly, he lowered them, feeling a flood of blood rush down to his hands. The sensation was odd, and he looked down at his hands in shock.

He was alive. Fully, truly alive. A heart he didn't know he had was pumping blood he didn't know he needed through a body that was somehow alive. Rubbing his eyes, he fully took in his surroundings, too nervous to move much more. He ran a tongue over his teeth, the sharp fangs a light scrape.

The morning was astounding, the sun pouring down from the sky and lighting up the earth. Dew covered grass shone like diamonds, like the specks of Quartz in his stone skin. The garden he was in was alive with color, the well-kept flowers an odd but lovely sight. Birds sang overhead, signaling the morning.

He took a step forward, legs tangled in the mess of Ivy. It was oddly uncomfortable against his stony skin, the leaves surprisingly scratchy. Balancing on one leg, he tried to untangle the ivy from his leg, trying to not hurt the flourishing plant. Whoever was the owner of this garden had been taking care of the plants- and of him- for however long he had been a statue. It was the least he could do.

Up on one leg, he slipped the ivy off of one leg, then the other. Slowly, he untangled the other leg, unwinding the rest of the plant from his torso. He held the ivy in his hands, admiring the green against his blue stone skin.

The sound of breaking glass against stone startled him, Stone falling on his ass in front of…

“Mark?” His voice was weary with disuse, but the person in front of him seemed to have heard him. No, it wasn't Mark. It looked like him-

“N-no. I'm… I’m Bim Trimmer…”

Stone stood quickly, still wary of the ivy, and shook his hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Trimmer. Who is the owner of this garden?”

Bim pointed dumbly at himself, Stone taken aback. Now looking down at his feet, it wasn't glass he had dropped, it was a terra-cotta pot. Stone nodded, carefully removing the last few gripping tendrils of Ivy from himself.

“It is a lovely garden- thank you for hosting me for… how long was I inert?”

Bim scrunched his eyebrows up, thinking.

“How long you were a statue? I think… about three years.”

Stone nearly fell again as the words settled on him. Three years. He was a statue for three years- and now he's alive. Looking down on himself, he awkwardly shifted.

"I... I seem to be unclothed..."

“That's why the ivy was there.” Bim sighed, running his hands over his face before looking over his shoulder.

Stone looked at the building, his arms and legs still sore and weak feeling. A pink-haired man had his face pressed against a window, staring at Stone in shock. Stone gave a small wave, turning his attention back to Trimmer.

“There are others here?”

Bim nodded, still looking a bit shaken.

“Can I borrow some pants from one of them?”

They walked into the building, Stone casually trying to hide from sight as Bim led the way.

The next thing he knew, he was face to face with a man who seemed to be made of darkness and shadows. He introduced himself as Dark before telling Bim to ‘call a meeting.’

Now, he's sitting at a wooden table, staring at two other duplicates of himself, several Ethan's, and around… 20 Marks. All arguing and shouting.

“Trimmer!” The pink haired man shouted, “how'd you wake him? Did one of your boyfriends-”

“I- I didn't do anything! I was just going out to re-pot a plant!”

Meanwhile, the man in the trench coat had his head on the table, the Physician- (surgeon? Stone couldn't tell which one he was,) yelling at everyone to shut up. A man in a silver suit was standing on the table.

Stone leaned over to one of the other Ethan's, who was silently watching the whole argument unfold with a pair of ink black eyes. As Stone leaned over to whisper to him, he could hear the sound of a faint ticking- like an old fashioned clock.

“Are they always like this?”

Other-Ethan whirled around, seemingly surprised. Sighing, he smiled and spoke in a flat yet kind voice.

“They were like this when I appeared. Same when Mrs. Thompson appeared-” he pointed at the ego across the table, shouting at a man in a blue shirt while knitting, “Apocalypse, Turkey- they're also Tyler Egos… McGee, Mad Mike, Postman, Pope… and me. I'm Blank. It's good to meet you.”

“Same with you.”

They shook hands, falling into a casual silence as they watched the others argue.

“So,” Blank started after a while, “what's it like to be alive?”

“I'm not even certain I am alive… ‘One would have to know what being is, in order to decide whether this or that is real, in the same way, what certainty is, what knowledge is, and the like. Nietzsche?”

Blank blinked blankly at him, nodding slightly.

“Cool horns.”

Stone felt his face get hot, reaching a hand up to lightly run it over his horns- large Quartz spirals. Blank smiled at him, all gentleness and quiet kindness.

Despite the arguing egos around him, he could feel himself growing closer to the ticking ego. Besides, he was truly, fully alive.

And it felt fuckin’ great.

[moshidreams]

Congratulations to Mark! For 18 million!!

@markiplier you are one the sweetest human beings I have ever had the pleasure to know. You make my happy to be alive at this day in age. Thank you for always staying true to yourself and being so soul baringly honest. All the good that you do truly inspires me to do my very best, no matter how hard it is to start. You and all of teamiplier are amazing!! and you deserve this, all your and the teams hard work well rewarded!❤

Thank you Mark &Teamiplier!

[darkibae-blog]

Hello, my dear friends.

My name is Tyler (ironic I know). Though I take no credit for the creation of any dark youtuber personas, I will definitely rp as them and answer asks as them~ so hit me up. (All sfw, by the way)

[stonefacesmilesalways]

i dunno what to say

[geekitygeekart]

An old sketch of a random woman, and some new doodles of the gorgeous Tyler <3

[sweetnestor]

this is not a dream #7 | i don’t like you

the real reason ethan was taken under the teamiplier wing | teamiplier/ego au

WARNINGS: suicide, murder, blood, self harm, drug abuse, alcoholism, sex addiction

read at your own risk.

previous.

~January 2017

There were many, many wires. It was practically second nature for Ethan to feel the urge to strangle himself with all of them. But he was actually being watched this time. He was going to be watched the whole night, and hopefully something logical will come out of his disturbing sleep habits.

He had been putting this off for months for various reasons, one of them being that he was very busy. Another reason was that his sleep was so disturbed and spotty that he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the cause of it. He also didn’t want any of his friends knowing that he was here, and it was hard to shake them off these days.

But now Ethan was here, lying in a bed, surrounded by machines, and hooked up to practically all of them. The specialist was a lady who had streaks of color in her hair. She had been very thorough with explaining everything that would go down tonight. Ethan paid attention to less than half of what she had said. The wires attached to different parts of his body would determine what exactly he does in his sleep. That was the gist of it, right?

The only problem was that Ethan had walked into the clinic feeling the least tired he had ever felt. He looked up at the white ceiling, waiting for sleep to come. Then he picked his head up and looked through the window on the opposite end of the room. The colorful haired lady was on the other side, writing something on a notepad, not paying any attention to her patient.

Ethan returned to staring at the ceiling. He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes. As soon as they were shut, he felt moisture in the corners of his eyes, trickling down his face. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn't. Was he asleep already?

He could still feel his surroundings. He was still laying down on the bed. There were wires still attached to his head, chest, and arms. He could feel goosebumps on his skin as the room got ten degrees colder. Oh no…

Suddenly, Ethan could see the room. The colorful haired specialist was still on the other side of the glass except… she was glitching? One flash was her just sitting and staring, then she was limp in the chair with her neck split open and her eyes burned out of her skull. It made Ethan actually vomit, except he couldn't open his mouth, so he choked.

He tried to move, but the wires felt like restraints. His body was stuck to the bed. Not only that, the mumbling was starting to return, just behind his ears.

No, please…

Coughs finally came out, and Ethan was sick all over himself. Dark red stained blood his skin and his white hospital gown. He still couldn't move, despite how repulsive and absolutely disgusting everything was. He just wanted to get out of his own skin.

Good idea.

No!

It started at the bottom of his feet. Searing pain was moving right underneath his skin. Ethan couldn't scream out loud or cry for help. He internally yelled at himself that none of this was real. It's all in his head.

Of course it's happening in your head, but why should that mean that it's not real?

The mumbling was getting louder. The skin was getting ripped off his legs, slowly moving up his body. It was unbearable, Ethan wanted to strangle himself with the wires. He wanted to inject something into his chest to make it all stop. He would much rather cut into his veins again.

And then it happened. Ethan was staring up at the white ceiling, and he felt a thousand white hot needles poke into his arms at once. He screamed, but no one heard him. He coughed up more blood, he choked and sputtered. He could feel someone standing over him, their face slowly coming into his line of vision. The vision flashed so quickly that Ethan couldn’t make out any facial features.

Make it stop. Please just make it stop. I'll do anything, I just want this to be over.

~

“Alright, Mr. Nestor, you're all set to go,” said a kind female voice.

Ethan's eyes opened. Of course that had all been a dream. He felt the specialist remove all of the wires from his body. He kept his eyes away from her, not wanting to be reminded of her burnt out eyes.

“How long was I out?” he asked, his voice raspy.

“The whole eight hours,” she replied as she removed the last of the wires. “You were perfectly still and undisturbed throughout the night. We'll give you a call as soon as we see the results.”

Ethan left the clinic feeling completely unrested and shaken up. He could still barely make out the mumbling in his ears and it made him even more uneasy. This wasn't a medical problem after all. There wasn't a logical explanation for this.

He got into his car and just sat there for a moment. He felt strange. Confused. Very out of place. His reflection in the rear view mirror was in his peripherals, but he didn’t dare look at his own face. His skin was crawling so much he scratched at his arms. The only thing he knew now was that he never wanted to sleep again.

The drive back home was a blur. Ethan spaced out a lot, even without whatever was going on with him lately. He was always aware of this little quality, but now it freaked him out. What if he spaced out long enough for him to not come back? What if whatever he saw in his sleep came back and took over?

“That’s ridiculous,” he breathed out as he entered his quiet apartment. Suddenly he didn’t like living alone anymore. “It’s just a dream.”

It’s not like he saw anyone anyway. It was just a bunch of bad feelings and physical pain that was a little too vivid.

~March 2017

No matter how bad things are, conventions always did some good. It was why Ethan looked forward to PAX East in Boston. Well, he always looked forward to it, even when bad things were not happening in his life. It was fun to meet people in his community and hang out with his long distance friends. Plus, he got to visit home for a while too.

Being close to home helped quiet down the things in Ethan’s head. He noticed that when he was home last Christmas. He didn’t have a single nightmare, and he didn’t hear any mumbling in his ears. He still hung himself in his room late at night, but having less weird things around him was better than what he got in LA. You could say that Ethan missed home because it kept whatever this was quiet.

Three of his YouTube friends offered to room with him for the weekend. For once, Ethan turned down all the offers. He couldn’t risk having any of his friends seeing what he does in his sleep. He felt bad about denying everyone, but it was for the best. He just had to come up with a valid excuse as to why he had to bunk alone.

The actual convention was just what he needed to boost his mood. Ethan was happily distracted by games, merch, and subscribers. He hung out with Kathryn, Brian, Sean, and Signe pretty much the entire time.

It was almost therapeutic.

Almost.

On the last night of the convention, Ethan found himself walking back to his hotel room, Sean at his side. A group of their friends met up at the bar in the lobby, and all Ethan knew was that there were many shots involved. Sean decided to bring him upstairs. Good friend, a very good friend. But if it was Kathryn, then Ethan wouldn’t feel as anxious about the things his drunk self was going to spill.

“I don’t normally do this,” Ethan mumbled. “You’re a good friend, I love you so much.”

Sean put his arm around Ethan’s shoulders. “Of course, man. I’m here for you. You really went at it tonight. Like you were drinking away your demons.” He chuckled.

Ethan wasn’t tipsy enough to miss his friend’s almost knowing tone. But he was tipsy enough to keep talking.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Silence dawned between the two of them as they walked down the hall. Sean looked down at the floor, putting his hands in his pocket. Ethan tried to see past the haze in his head. He spoke again when they approached his door.

“But I’m fine.” He wasn’t sober enough for this shit. “Thanks for bringing me back…”

“I know what you mean,” Sean finally spoke while Ethan fumbled for his key. “I don’t know why we’re like this. You’d think we would be happier, given all that we have.”

Now Ethan felt the need to help his friend. This was something he had never heard from Sean before.

“You would think I would be able to sleep more.” He wasn’t sure what made him say that.

Sean gave him a confused look, and then took the key from Ethan’s hand. “Okay, you definitely need to go to bed.”

At least Ethan could use the excuse of too much alcohol for his nonsense.

“You would think I wouldn’t hear things that aren’t there…”

“Okay, bouncing baby boy…”

Sean followed him inside the room. Maybe he wanted to listen in more on Ethan’s drunken rambles.

“I think I'm immortal,” Ethan whispered.

He stumbled past Sean to get to the bed, but a hand went tightly around his upper arm. Ethan wasn't drunk enough to mishear the change in Sean’s tone.

“Let's find out, shall we?” It was turned rough and grainy, like it was glitching in real life.

Ethan yelled as he was shoved into the wall. He swore he heard it crack behind him. He looked into his friend’s eyes; They were suddenly pitch black. One eye looked like it was leaking black tears going in all directions. Then he heard a clicking sound, and his body acted on its own.

He wasn't sure what made him do it, but Ethan instantly raised his arms to deflect Sean’s attempts to stab him with a pocket knife. The point of the blade came way too close multiple times, making the adrenaline spike through Ethan’s body.

His hands caught Sean's wrist before the knife could meet his heart. Ethan was breathing rapidly, his mind blank, holding his friend back with strength he didn’t know he had. His fingers dug into the black long sleeve, and he heard the slightest crackling sound coming from the bones.

Sean growled under his breath, madness in his black eyes. Then, in the blink of an eye, he pulled a second knife from his pocket and slashed across Ethan’s stomach.

Ethan gasped, feeling several things gush from his abdomen. He gurgled and groaned as he felt the knife puncture his torso multiple times. His hold on Sean's wrist loosened, he was sure to die this time around.

He felt himself slipping away, but his body still moved. Ethan’s hand snatched the first knife away. Then, as if he was being propelled forward, he pushed Sean into the opposite wall, the knife piercing him right through the throat and into the plaster. Sean choked and spit blood in Ethan’s face, and returned the favor by sticking the knife right into the boy’s chest.

The two stared at each other, still holding the handles of the knives. Ethan would have panicked, had he not felt his own blood drenching his body. Sean's eyes went back to their usual blue, except they were faint and staring without seeing, and he loosened his grip on the knife.

Ethan stumbled backwards, his vision blurring. He just killed his friend. He needed help. He needed to tell someone.

He mustered up enough strength to get out of the hotel room and limp down the hallway. What was Mark's room again? Were they even on the same floor?

His vision went blurry. He stumbled into somebody's door.

He felt himself falling… But suddenly he was walking again… He had tunnel vision, almost like he was peering through the lock on a door. He moved down the hall… Ethan was too weak to continue watching… Maybe someone found him…

~

Ethan woke with a start. He was lying on a bed, covered in blankets and cold sweat. He sat up, looking around the dark room. He almost thought he was still dreaming because he was in his bedroom in Los Angeles.

“The fuck…?” he whispered as he got out of bed. He walked around the space, searching for the light.

Well, it was definitely his room. His apartment. Wasn’t he in Boston last night? Wasn’t he supposed to be in his hotel room?

Suddenly, a deep knot formed in Ethan’s stomach. The hotel. Sean.

That had to be a dream, right? There was no way…

Next thing he knew, Ethan was running out the door to the bathroom. He stood in front of the mirror, tore off his unusually sweaty t-shirt, and looked at his body. He could still barely feel the knife going through his chest, yet the skin there was unmarked. He remembered walking around with the handle of the knife sticking out of his body. He could feel his insides-

Ethan physically gagged. It was way too real to be a dream. He turned on the sink and splashed water on his face, trying to get back his sense of reality. Whatever was going on in his head, whatever was living in there… It was playing with him.

He jumped when he heard his phone ring in his room. Since when did he have the ringer on? Ethan felt weary as he stepped back into his room. His phone was left on the nightstand, and it was lit up with a new text message.

Sean: “Look at us being crazy bois!!”

It goes without saying that Ethan cleared that notification without looking at the attachment. So Sean was definitely alive. It was wild that Ethan had to confirm that. Did he dare ask Sean if he remembered what happened? Was it even Sean who texted him?

Aside from that, how did Ethan not remember coming back home? Did anyone else remember him coming back home? Surely not, considering that Ethan probably would have had more texts and concerning phone calls from the friends he saw. He looked through his social media and found nothing weird on his part. What the hell was going on?

Whatever this was, it didn’t want to be seen. That’s why his sleep test results were normal. That’s why PAX East went well.

This thing wanted only Ethan to know about it. It wanted Ethan to go crazy trying to figure out what it was. That was the only thing he was sure of. He was definitely losing his mind.

_______

next.

[snarkyfinch]

Stone and Blank, peaceful

The small brook fills the background with sound, letting Stone slip into his thoughts without feeling trapped again. Blank murmurs softly nearby, most likely taking note of the minutes as they pass by. Stone smiles, content to spend the day in the forest with the love of his life nearby.

Life is happier on these days, the days spent letting the sun warm his skin and the birds soothe his soul. Days spent with Blank are always good, but the days spent in the small forest clearing are the best.

[lunalovegood2]

My biggest fear, above all else, is having friends and family dealing with things and not being able to help in any way, shape, or form. Just seeing other people suffer, whether it’s loved ones or people in general, it freaks me out when I can’t do anything about it.

Tyler Scheid

[iwasbornonamonday112]

tyler’s a fucking idiot and i love and support him fully (1/2)

[sunflowerdigs]

Little Malex Thing

In general, I think Tyler more often hits the little, almost unconsciously cute beats of Malex that I relate to as a fellow gay. His body language and the places on Michael's body where his eyes snag and the eagerness - I just see it more. But. I have to say. My favorite subtle Malex moment is the one right after Michael kisses Alex for the first time.

(Gif by @capmanes)

Michael just looks so fuckin' proud of himself for actually going through with it. And I love it, because that smile tells you that he spent all night and all day thinking about Alex and hyping himself up to make a move after freezing up the night before (the whole scene tells you that, actually, it's a beautiful character study of Michael himself). And he's been tense and nervous and afraid, so much so that it takes him a second to register - oh, yeah, I just did the thing and it went AWESOME.

This is the moment, honestly, that the show recognizes that there's more to Michael than the shiftless, angry drunk who wouldn't know a lifelong goal if it bit him in the ass. That Michael is clearly afraid of something, and that fear isn't letting him move forward. But this Michael, the one who kisses Alex, faces his fear head on and goes out on a limb for something he wants really badly. And for once, life doesn't totally blow up in his face and HE GETS THE THING. And he's so proud of himself for taking the risk. It's glorious, honestly.

Additionally...Michael's expression here is also a little shy and nakedly overwhelmed and I LOVE THAT almost more because Michael doesn't easily give up control. He tries so hard to maintain a poker face no matter what. But he can't really help it when it's Alex, he WANTS to give up that control, and he wants Alex to know that he wants to. It wouldn't have been easy to pull out of that kiss stonefaced but Michael could have tried. But he didn't. And not only did he not try, he deliberately faced Alex head on, paused, and smiled right in his face in a way that he had to know was goofy and a bit wobbly.

(Listen, listen..., speaking of wobbles...when they reunite and have that next first kiss, I have a MIGHTY NEED for Michael's knees to actually go weak, and for Alex to catch him, and for Michael to be visibly delighted by that like the big puppy he secretly is)

But also, ALSO (how much can I read into one look?), it's a very pleased smile. This goes back to the pride thing but it's like you can see there isn't any shame. Kissing Alex is cool, it is, without a doubt, everything that Michael had hoped it would be and more (as well as hyping himself up, obviously Michael also dreamed all night about what kissing Alex would be like). There's no sadness or fear or anger or disappointment or attempt to dominate or anything toxic like that, just...this is where I want to be because obviously it's where everyone should want to be but they can't be here because I got here first.

Idk. I just love this moment a lot. Gay first kisses in fiction can go a lot of different ways - they can end in violence, tears, or just silent shame a lot of the time. So, it was nice that this one was so normal. Delightfully so.