#I guess kind of

[etchif]

Adreamimus, the heron mimic

[ephemeral-gremlin]

scien brofiise, shuuen no virche

[twslug]

the cooldown room has been replaced by a cooldown car

[oltammefru]

Post This Theresa.

[bulldog-butch]

Post 3x09 I am convince that carry on wayward son is an extremely van coded song

[monzterbatz]

sigh.... i just recently got into dsaf. god damnit i love these fruity ass men

also happy new year 2024 :3

[sunkillerlovechild]

my friend and i have decided that Karel Čapek is canon to the Arcane universe

i just thought of Viktor reading R.U.R. and how that would influence his choices in canon, but we came to the conclusion that he had it in required reading, only read the summary and truly didnt learn anything

or alternatively he read it, which at some point leads him to just stop himself and think 'well maybe we shouldnt combine technology with the arcane, that sounds like a bad idea, it will take over the world and kill everyone' and then he and Jayce think of a better way to better the world

[foxboypaws]

i 4got to post this have a @squeakybuny getting art-ified by Sio

[beano5]

I can't take it... Anymorr 😓😓😓😭😭

Stuff I have drawn 3938489393 years ago but never posted. The first image is of my oc she is chronically online and is hashtag autism. Okyy baiii

[unoisveimved-un-proffesional]

On the inside I'm really a massive negative nancy who just notices everything wrong with everything, but I try not to say anything about it because that's rude you know? People don't need to here about every little thing that's wrong. So it happens that I look a lot more cheerful than I really am because I try and only talk about and express things that are good, which gives off the false impression I'm a super chipper person because I'm choosing not to be angry or depressed. I think it comes with an unsuppressed perception. Like how our brains inhibit our ability to properly feel our insides because our intestines are always breakdancing, keeping us from feeling a forever stomach ache. Some part of my brain that's supposed to filter things is broken so everything pours in, making me really such a bitchy asshole who's seen every little wrong thing and angle about me and everything else and thought of a thousand of the worst things to say and do about it before choosing to be nice because I know that's just the right thing to do most of the time, and a lot of the little things I notice that tick me off don't matter. I guess that might make me a good person by some definition. It's also made me a little callous though, the constant feed.

[apocalyps-o]

this sunny sunday afternoon feels like a cup of tea with friends, a brief moment of calm and respite in the midst of an hectic string of days. i did hard, tiring things this morning and i will do stressful things this evening, but for now i can bask in the sun, with just a touch of melancholy to balance this calm and quiet kind of happiness. i am so tired, but the warmth of the sun feels like a caress from my mum; i guess it will work out eventually. i love her and i miss her, but it's impossible not to feel her love in these tiny fragments of bliss.

[unpeeled-human]

special defense

does this count as anything ???is this art

[goldensunset]

idk who needs to hear this but if you have been putting something off bc it doesn't need to be done until the end of the month. we are almost done with the teens we are approaching the big numbers (the twenties). that date shall dawn upon you swiftly and without mercy before you know it. psa for everyone except me i got plany off time

[icewindandboringhorror]

(also feel free in the tags to clarify Why you made the choice you made!! :0c)

[aluminumneedles]

I'm knitting in the corner at a party

and guys my age stop by to tell me I remind them of their aunt, of their grandmother. This is a compliment and I take it as such. They confess to having tried crochet once, and I smile. They get back in line for the bathroom.

I'm knitting in the corner at a party and a queer woman sits on the floor next to me, arranges her skirt, and smiles up at me. (I try not to blush.) She asks me all the questions on her mind about my craft and I answer them, hands still moving. We swap yarn sources. She doesn't stay, but she knows where to find me.

I'm knitting in the corner at a party and everyone knows where to find me when they need a minute, when socializing is too much and the music is too loud and they need to catch their breath. They pretend to be checking in on me, which is sweet, but I can see the relief in their eyes the moment they stop performing for a house full of people. They sit down and tell me things and all the while they never take their eyes off my hands.

The party has wound down and I'm still knitting and the hosts, two guys in their twenties, thank me for "helping to curate the vibe." I had no idea that's what I was doing. I leave the party having forgotten to drink anything and without that woman's number but with many rows added to my top-down raglan sweater. I call it a night, and a good one.

[inbabylontheywept]

I was walking out of the Walmart today, and a car passed me, and I got this incredibly vivid impression. It wasn't really in words, but if I had to put it into words, the two key points would be

a). I needed to watch that car and

b). That I needed to be careful, because the driver of the car was a massive bitch.

It kind of took me by surprise, because I really had no reason to be beefing with that car, and I also hadn't really had an impression like that since I was religious, which was in my teen years. Right? It'd been a decade since I had a little voice whisper in my ear, and I'd basically written it off as nonsense.

Anyway, I watched the car, because The Spirits or whatever were very insistent that I did. Car drove fine, went into the parking spot, inched forward, and right when it should've just stopped, the driver gunned it for some reason and it ran into the curb and cracked its bumper.

So, the driver got out, and she went to the front of the car to check that yes, she had cracked her bumper, and then she turned to look at me. The parking lot wasn't empty, but we were the only two people standing in that row, and I'd probably been staring at her for tenish seconds now.

She demanded very angrily to know why I hadn't warned her of the curb. And I could have said I didn't know you were about to gun it or is it my job to help every stranger park, or even could you have even heard me, inside your car?

And all of those would have been fine, but I was really, really busy digesting that I had somehow communed with Mormon Jesus again for the first time in fifteen years, and that the communion had mostly been there to let me watch someone park badly (?), so what I responded with was:

"Because it was foretold."

And I can't tell which would be funnier, if she went silent because there's not much to be said to that, or if she went silent because in Utah, she might actually believe me, but we parted ways without more words.

I'm still kind of digesting this myself, actually.