Idk How To Explain It - Tumblr Posts
remember when we didn't have a canon name for Obrin and we had to call him Mithwalk for a little bit? good times
Mithwalk mithWALKED so Mithrun could mithRUN
Who is your favorit cowboy, Ingram, or crowven?
Oh, Crowven for sure! Hes probably in my top 5 favorite Noisrev/ArcadeKitten characters in general! I love Ingram and all, but hes just no match for THE Crowboy!
This drawing has so much energy!!!!
Joel with bucket will he make it
chat i just had to sit in a changing room as my mother and sister shouting at each other and we almost got kicked out of the store because they were disrupting so many people
i don't know if we were entirely kicked out because i shut down HARD halfway through the yelling match
i can sing the whole stupid song with a straight face because my friends hate it. so naturally, i learn it.
Dumb thing I made
Come on Fennec you have plats inside of plats! Boba only needs one!
i star drawing this before remembering I can’t draw hair and it was too late to back down.
This is why I love tumblr
horse pulling a very odd looking carriage in fact it appears to be a car upon a wheeled platform and even more surprisingly there seems to be a man in there this is a truly puzzling image
This is so beautiful I can't even- just read it.
it’s unexpected. uncalled for, really.
the last thing he expected when he came to you—eyes dulled behind smudged glass, crease between his eyebrows barely prominent, lips pulled taut ever so slightly—was for you to deny him entry through your doorway. granted, it was somewhere near midnight when he texted you, a few minutes shy of thirty past when he knocked on your door, but you had assured him it was okay. the grueling hours it took to get himself there in front of you are swiftly chipped away with each second of silent staring—why were you staring?—and he finds humility, worn and weary, standing on his doorstep. there he waits, bitter wind nipping at his ears, impending frown colored yellow by a nearby lightbulb, thoughts tinged with looming regret, until you pull him back—or forward, actually. you pull him to you, squeezing as if it were of utmost importance, as if something terrible would happen if you waited just a second longer. and he lets you, of course; tsukishima was never one for unnecessary questions.
unnecessary.
that’s what it is.
this—this desperation, this warmth, this compassion—it’s unnecessary. for him. for someone so uncaring, detached, empty—
you sniffle.
he sucks in a breath, frozen.
yet through the ice of lost sensibility he feels:
a lump in his throat; the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears; the stinging cold burning his eyes.
he doesn’t want to think about it.
what he would do without this, without you.
why?
because it’s unnecessary.
he removes his hands from the safety of his pockets, clutching at the material of your sweater and nuzzling into the crook of your neck as if there were nowhere else he’d rather be. nowhere else he could be.
there is nowhere else.
slowly, he closes his eyes.
he breathes.
and everything falls.
in the dead of winter there is warmth
part one of this collection of drabbles
thank you @snoozless & @querenciaas for beta reading <3
you ever just think about your friends and feel this indescribable and endless love and appreciation for them?
“imagine,” you declare, with a magnificent sweep of the arm, “if we never met.”
wonwoo furrows his brows at those words. “why,” he begins finally, perplexion creeping into his voice, “would i want to imagine that?”
you shrug. lean over him to reach for the wooden spoon; it’s baking day, if 3 in the morning can be considered day. “i don’t know,” you say distractedly — the tip of your tongue slips out when you concentrate on scooping. “it’s a hypothetical question. what do you think you’d be doing? if we never met, and fell in love?”
there’s a comfortable ease in the way you say love. you know he means it; he knows you mean it.
“right now?” he casts a glance at the clock; he likes to tease you. “probably sleeping.”
you glance up then, features arranged blank and unimpressed. half-pout, half-scowl.
that’s not what gets him, though. what gets him is your eyes; soft. bright. they twinkle a little, or maybe it’s just the kitchen light, but whatever it is, it takes his breath away — just for one short, ephemeral moment. perfect, he thinks, as he looks at you. threadbare t-shirt, brownie mix on your arm, smudge of flour on your nose. and he’ll think it a hundred times more before the cakes are even out the oven.
“i love you.” he says it out loud, those three overworked words that sum up the jumble of images and words and intangible abstract commodities that breeze through his mind when he looks at you. the words feel insufficient sometimes — like now — but it’s the closest he can get.
you laugh, then, throwing a chocolate chip at him. “nerd.” a smile that’s teasing, but gentler at the edges. “i love you too.”
an / none of u understand the full extent of my feelings abt this man. UGHHH.
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