#station scribbles

[game-stationed]

What's his damage

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i have a Scene - a Plot if you will - that backs this as context. y'all are gonna have to trust me on this one <3 or read the tags...

[sea-jello]

hong kong miku,,,

[cuterefaction]

#Trektober Day 11, "Rec Room". I'm reasonably sure that Miles and Julian played a lot more tennis offscreen, and definitely sure that Keiko and Garak were low-key perving on them the entire time.

[cursedthing]

.SUDDEN CHANGE

[stationk17]

Some sketchbook stans, as a treat

[necroticblue]

I walk faster when anyone tries to talk to me on the street. I am not sure if they can see they and I aren't made from the same cloth. Or maybe we are. Maybe we are one and the same and they just made home in and made peace with the machine housing them way better than I did. I do not know. All I know is that I always crave human connection, and yet trash and scream and beg to just leave me the fuck alone just for a moment please, when someone gets close. I forbid them from seeing the whole truth. They would want to leave regardless. The drugs beneath my tongue and the moving walls and The Great Big Vast One are for me and me alone.

I do not have a name for him. Is it a "him"? I do not know. But It/He lingers in my peripheral vision at all times. Sometimes I feel Its hands on my shoulders, but I only looked Him in the eye/s a few times and never without consequences. With great power comes great responsibility, and with seeing and longing for great powers comes great risk. I took it, and I continue to take it, despite my mind, body and soul being covered in cuts and burns and scars and wounds. That happens.

I think my friend who is preparing to go to rehab saw It. That also happens. Some people will never confess to their interaction with It, because It doesn't let them remember. That happens as well. But some people, such as myself apparently, spend their whole life consumed by the thirst to always look for It, always trying to get closer, always reaching their arms above to feel The divine light. Or is it The great dark? It is impossible to tell. But It sure is blinding.

I bit a piece of It off one time. I chewed and swallowed and licked my mouth and watched It watch me carry It home. Everyone was worried about me these two summers, but what they never saw is how amazingly grandiose I felt. How everything was oh so meaningful and oh so bright and oh so close. I was the Sun but brighter, the forest on a moonless night but darker. I radiated light and radiation. The sheer power burned my skin and I howled in orgasmic pleasure and tried to show the world that It is me, I am It! It is finally here! Celebrate! They did not get it, of course. I was put on zoloft, pregabalin and xanax. The latter two helped to keep the all-encompassing fire burning for a while. But one spring afterwards, when I thought It dissolved in my stomach acids, I felt It at the back of my throat, now rotten and aching and painful. It made me send a lot of stuff through my nose and throat for the bitterness to drown out the overwhelming feeling of dying. And one night, as I did a lot of drugs in my boyfriend's room, I suddenly couldn't move. It felt like being paralyzed for a couple of hours. I suppose in that time, my mouth most likely opened wide and It took the missing piece, after four years of me carrying It inside myself. It was a painful process, and I was left with the five stages of grief flashing like neon eyes in my peripheral vision.

Since then, I never got that close. Maybe because I eat more and sleep more and don't get drunk or that high anymore. It favors those who risk their life in search of It. Nowadays, I can get close, but never that close. It doesn't let me drown myself in It anymore, but these days I started to long for It like a child longs a mother's touch. I think It made me who I am today, I would not be complete without trying to die just to get closer to the Mother. Or is It the Killer? It can give life as well as take it, and yet I don't equate It with God. I do not know if God lives in symbiosis with It or if he also runs and coughs out his divine lungs just to reach It. It seems older than gods, than the universes. Maybe It is the driving force that can create galaxies and also destroy them in the blink of an eye. All I know is no human can know for sure. Our viewpoints are too shallow to fully grasp what is It that we are dealing with. That is why I take the drugs. Or maybe they make my vision more narrow so I can concentrate on a piece of It. No one knows. All we know is that we run and we get too high and we starve and we nearly die and It always watches.

It's you.

And it's happening to everybody.

(HEAVILY inspired by @mothercain and this piece)

[swk-shitposts]

Huh? Oh no! Can't you hold the magic staff anymore? Well, you know what that means-

FISH

[anonymusbosch]

sometimes i feel like extending the kindness you can, when you can, is the only thing there is

[estcaligo]

🥲

[game-stationed]

Redraw of this promo image in my own style ^^ he's chilling

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

2 am sillies

[little-shiny-sharpies]

Nighttime is a delicate dance of thermoregulation

[wendingus]

Stayed up late doodling a Wild West Lonely Broadcast Spinoff. It's so dumb.

I like to think that Dan has a telepathic connection with his shitty bird instead of using hearing aids. Which is very unfortunate for Evelyn because she can't whisper -anything- without Bartholomew going "hold up, I'm gonna tell dad, brb"

Evelyn's eye will tell you the future if you look into it, but will also immediately make you shit your pants, so no one ever asks to see it. Dan saw it once. He saw a vision of himself stubbing his toe ten minutes later.

I like that Finn's design has been mostly up to interpretation but I didn't wanna leave him out, so he just sorta looks like a Rough Dude. I like his nose though. He was a week away from cowboy retirement before these bad hombres showed up.

[m0e-ru]

still sticking with the headcanon that adachis car is pure ass like it's fucking shit and unfunctional as balls it's probably third hand. man who doesn't have the cis guy trait to take care of his car or actually have the money to service it. guy who buys a lexus at 90% off because it's going to blow up less than 70 more kilometers of usage. it got dented twice. he never uses it for the rest of his time in inaba because he's being chaperoned around by his boss like a schoolkid. also now his own car is completely out of service.

[twl-cyan]

Day 592

我、海怡半島及A-120三人照！

（MTR，無數的房間 ，我與我的OCs collab)