It’s half an hour into art therapy and you’ve done nothing with your lump of modelling compound but poke holes into it with your forefinger. Art therapy is a waste of your time on the best of days, but at least on those days it’s a pleasant waste of time. Today, the clock just crawls; neither Sollux nor Gamzee are here, Egbert is huddled together with spiderbitch, Dave has a session with Dr. Tongue, Eridan is… Eridan, and the ladies are so busy with their own group project you’d feel weird butting in.
(I. Am bawling like a child whose puppy just died. I seriously can’t even like. Oh my god. jfc luka why)
adorable moirails,...murderous rampage.
no, help, feelings i’m cry