#i have to do everything in this house all by myself

[pathologicalreid]

merry christmas, please don't call | s.r.

in which Spencer pens an email to you, since you've already blocked his phone number

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: nondescript break up, described as spencer's fault, reader is mentioned to have worn lipstick, yearning, word count: 907 a/n: and the worst part is!!! that we both know!!!!! we are doing kind of an unofficial margotmas/reidmas! really i've just been building up christmas ideas for a while lol

To: xreader@gmail.com From: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com Subject: Merry Christmas

Hey,

Spencer shook his head, that was too casual.

Good afternoon,

Much too formal.

Hello,

Too rigid.

Darling,

I passed by the house that you told me you adored. It used to be your dream house; you’d always show me the Zillow listing whenever you were browsing. The owners didn’t put up their Christmas lights this year, and it looks like they’re getting ready to sell. I haven’t been online to check the listing, that was always your thing rather than mine.

Do you remember the house? It had four bedrooms for our kids to sleep in and a library with stained-glass windows. You always told me the stained-glass windows were your favorite feature of my apartment. I keep it covered now; the colored glass just serves as a painful reminder of you.  

Emily called me last week. I suppose no one told her that we weren’t together anymore because she asked what our holiday plans were. I haven’t made any since you left. I’m finding myself hopeful that we get called on a case over Christmas so that I don’t need to be surrounded by the world celebrating while I continue to wallow in the memories of you and me.

That’s all I have now: memories. We made so many of them over the course of three years that I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that having an eidetic memory is a curse just as much as it is a blessing, but with you gone, I know it’s more of a curse. I see you when I close my eyes as if your features have been permanently tattooed on the back of my eyelids, but when my eyes are open, everything is exponentially worse.

You left in such a hurry, so you were bound to leave a few things behind. When I went to make a cup of coffee and found one of your mugs in my cabinet, JJ and Penelope had to practically scrape me off the kitchen floor. There was still a lipstick smudge on it, a piece of our history the dishwasher couldn’t quite wash off. Your necklace was on the bedside table, though maybe that was left behind on purpose. I wish we could go back to the day I gave it to you, you could wear the same green dress, and maybe work wouldn’t get in the way. If I could, I’d call you to ask why you left it behind, but you’ve blocked my number.

There was no need for you to leave me things to remember you by, how could I ever forget you?

I’ve been finding myself grateful that you got so close with Garcia during our relationship, she doesn’t give me any explicit details on your life when she updates me. I never ask, but she knows I want to hear.

It’s a rather odd phenomenon to have once had someone who you shared everything with, only to one day find they want nothing to do with you. I always find myself reaching for my phone to send to a message, or leaning over to show you a line in my book, but you’re not there anymore. I don’t hold any malice in my heart for you, even after you called it all off. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t be the boyfriend that you needed, and I’m proud of you for realizing you wanted someone better. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better.

Maybe I still have some growing up to do. There might be some sort of emotional stunting as a result of my less-than-orthodox upbringing and education, which makes sense when you consider two of my most common nicknames, “boy genius” and “kid.” One day I could find myself in the same place you were, ready for more, but maybe then I’ll be with someone who is ready for the same things as I am. She’ll never be you though. You’ll always hold that special place in my heart.

Speaking of my upbringing, my mom keeps asking about you. Each time we talk on the phone, she asks if she can talk to you, but I’ve been telling her that you’re still working or are otherwise preoccupied. I know I shouldn’t lie to her, but if I tell her, she’ll inevitably forget, and I’ll be forced to recount the story of how I lost the best thing to ever happen to me forever. That would be my eternal damnation. There’s Sisyphus and Tantalus and Spencer Reid, slowly becoming nothing but a myth. I wonder if I’m a story that you tell your friends at O’Keefe’s.

I go there sometimes, just to see if I can catch your gaze, but you’re never there.

I know this is your favorite holiday, and I don’t intend to ruin your holidays with my message. I suppose I just needed to see if you still dream about that house. To see if you still dream of me the way I dream of you.

Merry Christmas,

Spencer

He clicked send nervously, ready to snap his work-issued laptop shut when it chirped with a notification. Surely you hadn’t responded that quickly. Spencer opened his inbox once more, checking the latest email.

To: Spencer.Reid@gmail.com From: mailer-daemon@googlemail.com Subject: Delivery Status Notification (Failure)

Message blocked.

Your message to xreader@gmail.com has been blocked. See technical details below for more information.

[transgender-mothman]

Maybe your biggest concern should just be playing with people who vibe with your style and not worrying about how or why other people do it the way they do if it’s not effecting you in any way?

If someone is being a jerk about it, sure, go off! I don’t think there’s anything wrong with deep discussions about rules, or following them to the letter, or even having (good natured) arguments about a play choice. But just like playing house rules in Monopoly, or doing your own version of hopscotch, there’s nothing wrong with taking what you like and turning the volume down on the rest.

Unless you are playing in a professional or otherwise regulated setting like at your LGS, and everyone is in agreement, it’s fine to do your own thing. I am not here for people being jerks in any game spaces, so by all means, stop someone if they’re being a Problem™. I feel very strongly that you should play at a table that suits what you want out of the game. And that you should, as a DM, discuss this stuff with your players and see what everyone wants to get out of the campaign.

There is still a lot to gain from playing any ttrpg while still being lenient with rules (be it for rule of cool, or home brew, or just omitting things you don’t like). There are set skills, set things you can do, methods to resolve conflict, and additional impetus to advance the story beyond just roleplay. Not everyone is comfortable doing everything off the dome, and a game like d&d, used even with some leniency and wiggle room, offers some structure and building blocks that can make jumping into roleplaying a lot less intimidating. There is a book to read and reference. You can get an idea how the system works, how games flow, and build based off the knowledge you have and tweak as you and your table see fit. And that’s to say nothing of how having a rubric can help (not entirely prevent, but help!) avoid people who just want to continuously one up and have More Powers Than You At All Times. And you have the fun of randomized results due to stats and dice rolls, so things go in different directions than they would just writing or role playing without a ttrpg structure.

For clarification, I’ve been running 5e for the better part of a decade now (plus forays into other systems), and my campaigns are very story and character heavy… and I am lenient about rules, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there. Depending on the campaign, the players, and the length/frequency of play, sometimes myself and my players feel it’s best to sand down some edges and play a little softball for the sake of time, flow, and fun. And sometimes people come up with super creative and cool ways to use skills or spells or mechanics that are unconventional, and for the sake of everyone having a good time, it’s a fun to bend the rules a bit just to get the pop from the group and make the gang happy.

There’s no ignoring the rules en masse in my case, I’m still running D&D. Sometimes it’s just allowing things to ride for the drama/cool of it in a scene, or just deciding campaign x doesn’t require mechanic y. It’s all in fun, and so long as my players have a good time and we tell a good story, that’s what matters at my table. I do require people to read the PHB, but not everything applies to every campaign, so I provide abridged reading or clarify what I want people to absorb and what to leave.

Am I gonna be running any professional games? Nah. Am I the best DM? Nope. Do I feel my way to play is superior? No! But I don’t think it’s inferior either because the value is in how much everyone enjoys playing together. Just play with whoever suits your style and vibe and have fun. It’s a game, it’s not that serious.

I think an important part of the "D&D is easy to learn" argument is that a lot of those people don't actually know how to play D&D. They know they need to roll a d20 and add some numbers and sometimes they need to roll another type of die for damage. A part of it is the culture of basically fucking around and letting the GM sort it out. Players don't actually feel the need to learn the rules.

Now I don't think the above actually counts as knowing the rules. D&D is a relatively crunchy game that actually rewards system mastery and actually learning how to play D&D well, as in to make mechanically informed tactical decisions and utilizing the mechanics to your advantage, is actually a skill that needs to be learned and cultivated. None of that is to say that you need to be a perfectly tuned CharOp machine to know how to play D&D. But to actually start to make the sorts of decisions D&D as a game rewards you kind of need to know the rules.

And like, a lot of people don't seem to know the rules. They know how to play D&D in the most abstract sense of knowing that they need to say things and sometimes the person scowling at them from behind the screen will ask them to roll a die. But that's hardly engaging with the mechanics of the game, like the actual game part.

And to paraphrase @prokopetz this also contributes to the impression that other games are hard to learn: because a lot of other games don't have the same culture of play of D&D so like instead of letting new players coast by with a shallow understanding of the rules and letting the GM do all the work, they ask players to start making mechanically informed decisions right away. Sure, it can suck for onboarding, but learning from your mistakes can often be a great way to learn.

[alllgator-blood]

'FOGGY STREETS AND CHRISTMAS LIGHTS'

(part 3/3)

I'm gonna infodump about the backstory of this comic, don't feel obligated to read it because it's not cotl related it's just personal stuff, I just want to be able to write about it somewhere cause I can't really talk to anyone about it.

As always, thanks for reading this far, sorry my stuff has been such a bummer so consistently. This comic goes out to all my "christmas induced depression" homies, I left my house maybe like ~5 times all month and it was NOT pleasant hearing "IT'S THE MOST WONDERFUL TIME OF THE YEAR!!" on the radio when I'm so ready for it to be over. Gonna take it reaaaaal easy til the year ends, you guys take it easy too!! Got some asks I have to respond to when I'm more stable but probably no new comic pages til january

Alright uhhh so this part of the comic is pretty much taken directly from the last time I saw my great-grandma alive, a few days before christmas. She didn't remember me, but at the nursing home there was a piano, and I sat down and played some stuff because I didn't know what to say. I was really into lisa the painful rpg at the time, and I played that "I've got the joy" song that the villain sings without realizing it was an old christian campfire song. She didn't really say much or move that whole night, just kind of gave me a polite blank smile, but started singing the words when I played the notes to that song.

I kinda stopped in shock, my dad frantically asked me to keep playing, so I did. While the comic I made is way more sappy than the actual moment was, I wish I'd cherished the moment longer. I didn't know it was the last time I'd see her alive. Every family christmas was held at her house when she was around, so it's been weird the past few years. I actually lost another dementia-addled grandma to cancer on christmas eve in 2009, so the holiday was already kind of weird for me on top of everything else that makes me sad this time of year. That's what part 2 was about, I'll spare the details but I wrote leshy to act out how I felt back then. Why are we all sad? This is supposed to be a happy time, all the decorations are up and we're almost all here, so why is everyone smiling yet everything feels so wrong? I feel like since leshy's canonically the most ignorant one to things lurking below the surface, he'd be the one to try and make everyone feel better but not quite understand why everyone is so miserable. My first memory of having self injurious behavior came from then, hence why I had leshy pull his leaves off in the last comic. It was confusing and frustrating and I was just old enough to comprehend something was wrong, but not old enough to understand the depth of it, it DEFINITELY didn't help that nobody helped me back then so I made leshy's siblings actually come in clutch instead of grabbing him/yelling at him.

That night with the piano was something that's stuck with me the few years she's been gone, but I felt kind of strange when I asked my dad and my sister about it and neither of them remembered it. The room we were in was completely empty so nobody else witnessed it but us three. I myself have a history of head trauma and memory loss (plus, native americans are disproportionately more likely to develop dementia... lucky us) so if I ever forgot about that moment, there'd be nobody left to remember it. Sometimes when I do comics, it's my way of going "this happened at some point, and the only evidence it ever happened was me witnessing it, so if something happens to me I want the memory to stay alive in some form."

Anyway. The autistic urge to overshare, am I right? Idk what my religious ass great-grandma would think of me drawing demonic comics about my last memory of her, she'd probably think it's funny though cause she raised my dad whose interests have always been "death metal and devil worship". I'm not sure if anyone read this far, I just hope my dumb comics can convey the things I can't say with my voice and struggle to say through text. None of this was supposed to be "feel bad for me!! Woe is me!!", it was supposed to me more like...cathartic? Healing? I almost didn't post this comic because it felt kinda weird, but seeing people connect with it made it worth it imo. Thank you

[celestialgalaxyglow]

At Wayne mannor

Alfred: Morning everyone I have an announcement.

Bruce: Everything alright Alfred?

Alfred: Yes, I have invited the Kents to dinner in two days time.

Bruce: What...

Alfred: I expect everyone to be on their best behavior.

Tim: When you say the Kents who do you mean?

Alfred: All of them, Jonathan, Martha, Clark, Lois, Kon, Jon, Kara, Otho, and Osul.

Cassandra: How many people will be in attendance.

Alfred: 24 people in total. For our part everyone WILL attend, no excuses. That means myself, Bruce, Dick, Jason, Danny, Tim, Duke, Stephane, Barbara, Harper, Cassandra, Luke, Kate, and Damian.

Jason: This is going to be fun.

Damian: I bet $20 the house burns down by the end of the night.

Danny: I'll take you up on that.

Meanwhile at the Kent farm

Martha: Morning everyone, last night I was talking with Alfred and we've been invited to dinner at the Waynes in two days. We will all be going, no buts.

Jonathan: We expect everyone to behave.

Kon: At least one person will end up in the hospital.

Kara: I think it'll be fun.

Clark: It'll be fun to see Bruce, it's been a while since we've seen each other as civilians.

Martha: Good, now let's enjoy breakfast, there are chores to be done, and they're not going to do themselves.

Part: 13, (all parts)

[boysbeware2]

all the old tptm girl journal entries w the new (if anyone wants to see them again and compare them)

please proceed with caution as many of these could be upsetting to read

disposable girl (jordyn)

(old)

i cant fucking stand this. i try so goddamn hard to make friends, to be attractive to people, to be even somewhat appealing to them etc etc. it never works. i thought it would get better the older i get. thats what i was told. guess what! i was fucking lied to!!! im alwasy left out of EVERYTHING i never get invited to shit and my own friends ignore me all the time. everyone looks at me weird. i cant go in public anymore im so fucking terrified of everyone. nobody fuckinf wants me, man. im so close to doing something stupid i feel so gross and ugly and dumb i should actually just die id be doing everyone a favor LOL

(new)

man, i havent been on here in forever. the internet is kind of dumb. what is there to say? my friend group celebrated our outpatient graduation anniversary the other day, that was pretty nice. we’re all trying to figure out housing stuff, nora’s been helping with that. freyja + mayra + kairi found a place already (how are they so responsible??) and the rest of us are trying to find places near them so we can visit more often. i never expected to have such a big group of friends. if you told me 2 years ago that i’d be living like this, i wouldn’t believe you. it’s still surreal to me. i’m not sure what i did to deserve them. same goes for my girlfriends. i don’t wanna say who just yet, we’re still figuring things out, but i’m just so thankful for them. i feel so lucky to have a second chance at life. i really didn’t believe people when they said it would get better, and then it did. how funny…..

irreverent girl (kairi)

(old)

I do not want God to see me anymore. I do not want anymore eyes on me. This is near unbearable. I have no one to turn to. My mother is in the church. Many of my friends are in the church. They would tell me to find hope through Christ. They would tell me to pray to Him. They would tell me that He will save me. He must not remember He made me, and if He does, He simply does not care. I know this is unbecoming of me, and I don't mean to be dramatic. I am simply depressed, nervous, and I cannot tell what's real and what isn't anymore. I know I'm supposed to hear God speaking to me, but I do not, and I am tired of straining my ears. I just want to see a doctor. I want some kind of tangible solution. I do not want to pray anymore. Praying hurts. I only do it when I am afraid, but I am afraid much of the time. I don't want to be unheard anymore. I do not want to hold out hope for someone who does not act like they're there. I am hurting. I am hurting. I am hurting. Belief is hurting me. The idea of God is hurting me. I need an out. I am hurting.

(new)

When I have a job and money and I can move away from my shitty Mormon parents

splitter girl (tahira)

(old)

theres something so broken in me thats beyond saving. so i dont know why i keep trying to be saved. i meant to kill myself when i was 18. i didnt. all ive wanted to do lately is kill someone or something. i havent. im too much of a pussy to plan anything concrete, no matter how much i hate everyone around me. no matter how much i get off to videos of people dying or how much i love cutting myself i cant actually take action against other people. i am fucking purposeless. i was born from evil and i will always be evil and i cant even live up to that. i hate myself i hate myself i HATE myself and the universe hates me too. i dont know what to fucking do at this point. i talked to one of my friends about wantingto die and they said smthn about hospitalizing myself. maybe. i dunno. i dont know what else there is for me/. my eyes are fucking burning from lookign at my computer for so long adn not getting any goddamn sleep. i am not a good person. i dont think i can be helped but i just dont wanna fucking keep goign to school and being around people and pretending like everything is norma;l. i cant keep doing it. what the fuck is wrong with me whagt happened. why cant i be loved or feel love for other people when did something change in me that switched the aggression and affection parts of my brain. im hyperventilating ill be back. maybe

(new)

getting myself onigiri from this one good boba place 2nite bc im 8 months clean…… its the little things~ ^^

fainéant girl (freyja)

(old)

i know i dont hate being disabled... i just hate being disabled in a society that makes existing difficult... but sometimes i really just dont want to be disabled anymore. i dont want my family to lecture me about how i could be helping out more, or how i should get a job. i dont want teachers to keep asking me whats wrong or the fuckin uni counselor to try to get me hospitalized. i dont want to be in so much pain anymore, to feel so exhausted that i cant even do so much as prepare food for myself, let alone do anything meaningful or fulfilling. its not fair. i shouldnt have to stay inside and sit in the dark all day,. i should be able to have friends. to talk to people and to go out with them and to feel like i am alive. its lonely and traumatic to suffer through this and on top of that no one around me understands, and they never fully will. i am tired of trying to justify my existence to everyone, to explain the pain that i am in and why i shouldnt have to experience it. i know the problem isnt me. i know i live in a world that isnt built for me. but if the world cant change then sometimes i truly feel that i should just stop living in it. my lifespan is already shorter than everyone else's anyways. what difference does it make

(new)

my qpps didnt seem to appreciate me playing Alien Kids Alien Rap for them. Do they even love me

caliber girl (nora)

(old)

唉～It is 3 AM and I should go to sleep but I can’t. I have a work zoom meeting early in the morning and I gotta hit the gym also because I haven’t done leg day in like… weeks. Oh well, it doesn’t even matter. My value is depleting but I don’t think I care anymore. The turnaround date for my code is also in a couple of days and I haven’t made any progress. I keep getting the same error and I’m too tired to figure out what’s wrong. I might get fired at this rate LOL(笑). If that happens, I think I’ll just consider ending it all. Not that anybody will miss me. God I sound so weak and pathetic right now. When did it get like this. How did it get like this. I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse before and this is nothing. Ugh, why is it so hard to breathe? My chest hurts and I feel like something is wrong but I don’t know how to make it go away. Should I call someone about this? No. No one is awake or around to help. I’ll be fine. I’ll just sleep it off. Shake it off… shake it off…

(new)

My Tamagotchi beeped during a meeting fml

chocolate box girl (morgan)

(old)

i thought i was doing better but i cant stop thinking about them. their touch, their interests, their smile, everything. the worst part is that i miss them, after all of what they've done to me. i was 13. i dont even feel justified calling it rape since our relationship was so muddy... they never yelled at me or was angry at me, they just got so sad when i tried to speak my mind, and got all my friends to hate me when we finally broke up. i never said no so i feel like im insulting actual survivors by feeling violated. i wasnt even trying to get into a relationship with them, it just happened... i feel like everyone around me wants me in the same way they did, even though im an adult now and i dont even try to make myself appealing. i wish i could trust people not to take advantage of me, and i feel disgusting and selfish for feeling like everyone has ulterior motives of getting me to fall in love with them, or worse. that's so self centered of me. i dont know how long i can keep doing this

(new)

girl help i cant stop looking at anime figures on japan yahoo auctions !!!!!

taxidermy girl (mayra)

(old)

I don't remember ever not having a sex drive, is that normal ? I was born and then it was all downhill from there, something happened to me sexually i think, I don't know what happened, because I don't remember much, but something happened and I was beaten for it and yelled at and my mother hated me, and now I am an adult and I try to have sex, and I'm not there mentally, even if my body is participating, I feel like I am in the past again, being beaten and yelled at . I want to keep trying, I want to have fun, to feel safe in someone else's arms, to reach the heights of pleasure, but my mind scares me so much, I haven't been able to eat anything today because I feel so horrified by my body . If I was good I would have been born as a nonsexual being, no parts, no desires, no instincts, a blank slate, too empty to be enjoyed . Do you know what it feels like, to have your mother tell you people want to sexually abuse you when you are a child, and then to be made fun of by your peers for being so ugly, to have your middle school and high school classmates joke about how much they don't want to have sex with you ? I am illicit and undesirable at the same time, I am everyone's last option, I am nothing and still too much, rotting deer meat on the side of the road . I wish I had been born as something beautiful and pure, I wish I could start over, that whatever that initial sin was had never been committed .. I want to start over

(new)

Went to a kink event the other night and everyone was so nice … The low lights were fucking with my vision so one of the hosts helped me navigate the place . I ❤️ you random disabled ally with a pup mask on

chemical girl (joy)

(old)

LMAOOOOO im too angry and miserable to be around. i think i just need to give up at this point because theres clearly like. something broken inside me that cant be fixed. that has 2 be it because i try to talk and i just sound cold, i try to make a joke and it comes out overly edgy and unfunny, i try to be like everyone else but its too much. i cant even be a collection of the positive traits i see in others, i try to replicate it and it comes out warped and wrong. im either fucking enraged or in abject misery or way too happy and nobody can keep up with me. the thing is i dont even blame them. i wouldnt want to be around me either. do u know what thats like? being someone you wouldnt want to know? i keep hoping that one day ill wake up and suddenly be normal, the mood swings will be gone and everyone will like me and i wont do stupid shit that pisses them off. but i know that day isnt coming. theres no hope for me and i want to say sorry to everyone who has ever had the misfortune of knowing me but i know it wouldnt do anything. theres nothing i could ever do to make myself right

(new)

i need to convince my gf to take me to Round One again soon

refraction girl (nataana)

(old)

i don't want to do this anymore. i'm going somewhere better

(new)

talked with my psych and i’ll be starting TMS soon, it’s some thing where they put magnets to ur brain and it’s supposed to treat depression.. trying to temper my expectations bc i’ve tried so many treatments that just do nothing for me, but i’d be lying if i said my hopes weren’t riding on this. i want to confidently say i’m glad to be alive. i feel like i’m getting closer to that

nurse parallel/machine girl (xiomara)

(old)

I am so excited... Tomorrow my experimental outpatient treatment plan begins!!! I'm beyond delighted. I have complicated feelings about my DID being in remission, but it's nice to feel stable enough to be in charge of something this big, and to not have terrible gaps in my memory anymore. I still don't remember everything that happened to me, but maybe I don't need to. At this stage of my life, I feel content. I can confidently say everything was worth it. I want to help others feel that way, too. I think I can.

(new)

I’m meeting up with a new friend tomorrow… I feel nervous, but it’s a good nervousness, I think!

[pocketgalaxies]

hello from the past (sunday december 8)! in lieu of my normal friday liveblog here are some things i remember from the daggerheart critmas show in no particular order :)

Uncle Pelvis

riley, full eldritch reindeer monster, just Sobbing about her pet rat which she named gorbachev because her dad calls the actual gorbachev a rat bastard

laura miming her stupid lil candlestick hands and wiggling her stupid lil mesh wings the entire time

marisha getting out of her chair yelling "MY SKATEBOARD–IT'S ROLLING DOWN THE STREET"

the whole audience watching matt's "how to watch daggerheart" video before the show started with utmost rapt attention as if it was new information

"put it in your frigid box" "my body is ready"

"SLIPPERY WHEN WET, BITCH"

slippery when wet bitch made me so happy because it's such a marisha-ism that i pulled out my phone to put it in my tumblr drafts so i wouldn't forget it. it's the only thing i wrote down the whole show

marisha and ashley miming riley sticking her arm into gwenny's body

bethany insulting ralph and ralph sobbing "i thought tristan was just gonna read a dramatic monologue"

every time someone started crying gwenny's hands would creep into frame holding the box

the holiday spirit going "...~whoa~" from tanner's weed grenade

ralph bader ginsburg

bethany's very not secret comic book obsession

"how do you know i was the one who tagged the water tower" "it says dylan right there"

laura going "i still can't believe you all said i was naughty" and travis' thumbs up

everyone going "DIDN'T YOU LIVE IN GERMANY?" and marisha going "YES AND I'VE USED MY EXPERIENCE 'I LIVED OVERSEAS' 4 TIMES ALREADY"

marisha going "we're still rolling even though we had two crits. ok,"

everyone looking at travis' monkey hat and breaking

bethany checking if her vag was still there

gwenny inexplicably knowing everything about everyone's lives and houses

one half of the party crying into a box and the other half getting violently disemboweled by an evil hag

the way bethany said ". no–!" when ralph asked if they had a chance together

bethany's lil tantrums

ralph throwing his own lil tantrum and saying "i learned from the best"

laura trying to use an experience talking to the holiday spirit and muttering "no they wouldn't care who my dad is..."

riley intensely saying "i know where it went. follow me." and then comically slipping on ice with her ungraceful bambi legs

marisha going "matt What did you say you said it so fast and i was so distracted" and matt just repeating back a bunch of german

tristan's illusory pack of krampus monsters all having a little tree topper sitting on one horn

the audience laughing at Every single one of sam's jewish jokes despite ourselves

i can't remember what the context was anymore but taliesin just deadpanning "This Was A Mistake." over all the cry-laughter which only made the cry-laughter more severe

i kept looking at a mom in the row in front of me who definitely only came to support her child and she just looked so confused the whole time. confused for 5 hours straight. i'm so sorry mom

riley screaming "IT'S THE COMMIES" and immediately offering up gwenny because "she's a virgin" and gwenny, 3 beats too late, defensively going "I HAVE SEX ALL THE TIME"

the VIPs doing the little sing-songy thing and the whole cast going "what the fuck you creeps"

sam skipping onto the stage like an angelic little boy when momlan finally announced him

ashley's court jester look in the 2nd half was very cute

someone behind me said "she is so cute" about laura's tree topper outfit, apropos of nothing. relatable

i think nobody in the audience was expecting the character art of their transformations and it was absolutely an involuntary gasp and yell when riley's first appeared. and when marisha described the christmas lights appearing on her antlers like 3 ppl around me including myself went "oh cool"

everyone losing their FUCKING minds when liam did the hamlet monologue

everyone losing their FUCKING minds when liam did the breakfast club monologue

a high schooler robbing the comic store and getting ambushed by a bunch of fairytale monstrosities who are actually also just high schoolers

the concept of a tiny tree topper being able to step in front of someone to take the hit for them. and the fact that every time she did it the crowd went "AWWWW."

tanner's intrusive monkey noises

matt repeatedly saying "it doesn't matter if you rolled with hope or fear on a reaction roll" and marisha going "You Know We're Going To Say It Anyway. I Rolled A 15. With Hope."

liam saying that the hair on his calves specifically was contributing to his armor

marisha trying to do math in front of a crowd of thousands, marisha spitting all over her mic in front of a crowd of thousands, ashley not being able to read her dice in front of a crowd of thousands, laura trying to choose dice in front of a crowd of thousands

sam feeling the need to clarify that his acne was just makeup. the details of the makeup not rly showing up on the screen so it definitely just looked like a rash and i felt a non-negligible amount of relief when he made said clarification

every time gwenny went anywhere it was described as "rolling." like bb-8

gwenny going "hey this kind of isn't so bad" and ralph immediately going "you're going to melt in the summer"

every time they were so teenager-y. "my dad said this" "suck it" "chode"

ralph going "i had my bat mitzvah so i'm a man now, not a child. so this doesn't apply to me" and tristan going "and tanner's 22"

trying to kill a mythical fire scarecrow monster but whenever anyone tries to do something strategic about it everyone goes "NO WAIT THE COMIC BOOKS–"

on a more serious note meeting cool ppl before the show and during intermission! everyone was wearing cozy cr merch it was so cute! there was a trinket with christmas lights and armor with a light-up VM logo! there was a fuckin awesome percy vex couple's cosplay! there were laudnas! there were keyleths! one person got told their bag was too big and everyone in line was offering tips on how to carry all the super cute caleb cosplay-related paraphernalia in their bag, everyone was so nerdy and friendly. the critmas album was playing during the pre-show and the atmosphere was so cute. so many ppl sang along to the twelve days of grogmas mv when it played during intermission. a whole crowd of grog impressions. and when marisha/riley said her stupid thing about how one day nerd culture might become cool and popular and everyone cheered it made me feel so warm and fuzzy.

ok i could keep going but i'll stop. it was such a fun fuckin time y'all

[jeonjaemark]

the one i’ve been missing || chwe hansol

content warning: none || masterlist

“thank you ma’am. i hope you enjoy the rest of your day.” the waitress smirks, handing me back my card and receipt for my check.

“thank you. i hope you have a good day too.” i return her smile and push my seat out heading towards the exit.

i turn the corner reaching the elevators. a small group of people scurry off the platform as a woman holds it open for me. press the level i needed to reach when i heard a deep voice.

“hey! wait! hold the elevator!”

the elevator start to close its doors but i quickly hit the button to remain open. a guy dressed in a white tee, a pair of jeans and converse with his baseball cap and headphones walked in. he shoots me a quick thank you for before putting on his zipped up jacket.

i look up from my phone when i smell a familiar citrus and woodsy scent.

“vernon?” i raised an eyebrow.

“y-yeah.” he stared at me as if i invaded his personal space. “y/n? w-what are you doing here?”

“i came here for a lunch date with myself. you?”

“there is a record shop just a few doors down from the restaurant.”

“it’s been a while since i last saw you. is everything

“some things have been different. you know touring the world and all with twelve other dudes.”

“so you’re still in a long committed relationship with those twelve other dudes and doing what you love.” i chuckled.

“y-yeah.” he half laughs. “what about you? i can’t remember the last time i saw you.”

“i have been traveling around. it’s time consuming being

“this is my floor. i’d love to see you again and the guys. that’s if they’re in town with you too.”

“yeah, we have a few days off. uhmm, how about we hang out tomorrow?”

i nod agreeing as vernon steps out of the elevator. “okay, just text me the details to your place and i will be around maybe noon.”

————————

“you have to joking! that is not the best christmas movie!” vernon spat, taking another slice of pizza from the table.

i clutch my chest as if to gasped for air, “get out of my house! you will not slander my favorite christmas movie of all time.”

“y/n, the princess switch doesn’t have much of a plot. home alone has a plot and it’s the best christmas movie. even elf has a better plot line than the princess switch.”

“i am suddenly realizing why we lost touch all these years.”

“what’s the princess switch?”

vernon face palms his forehead sliding down the couch dramatically. i scoff as his actions but ignored him to answer the question. vernon can pretend all he wants that he despises the princess switch but i know he secretly likes watching it with me.

“nonie! i am fine. we don’t have to do anything. it’s whatever, kai went to the winter dance with vivienne and they will live happily ever after.”

“just forget the dance. he’s not worth your time anyways. we can watch all three princess switch movies at my house.” his voice soft and warm trying to cheer me up.

“you hate this movie.” i whined.

“yeah, but i hate seeing you sad even more. c’mon, i have a bag of kettle corn with your name on it.”

“you are willing to suffer through three movies to make me feel better?”

“that’s what best friends are for, right?”

i chuckle reaching up to hug. he instantly wraps his arms around me giggling.

———

“if fiona and peter don’t end up together then i will riot.” seokmin mumbles to josh.

i chuckle to myself sideyeing him and turn my attention to vernon. his body slouched down into the couch while hugging a pillow. his eyes laser focused on the tv screen and the corners of his lips rise.

on the tv fiona had just entered the cafeteria where her estranged mother was waiting for her. my eyes start to tear up hearing fiona talk about how she was let down by her mom not being present in her life and she walks out but decides to walk back to her. vernon didn’t even look in my direction but he holds up a tissue for me. i smirk glancing at him and take the tissue. a loud sniffle comes from the other side of the couch as the credits roll. everyone turns their heads staring at seokmin who had tissues in his hands and tears streaming down his cheek.

“okay, we’ve watched all three princess switched movies and home alone, now it’s time for everyone to decide which movie is best?”

vernon and i stood up in front of the tv while we asked josh, seokmin, seungkwan, dino, mingyu, jun, seungcheol and jeonghan. each member comments of which is their favorite movie to watch. we end up with a tie which meant josh is the tie breaker.

“i am sorry, y/n. i have to go with vernon’s pick.” josh says.

“three to four, i win!” vernon cheers sticking his tongue out at me as the other disperse into their own conversation over dinner.

“whatever. the princess switch is still my favorite movie. to each their own, i guess.” i crossed my arms against my chest.

“do you want to bake some desserts like stacy in the princess switched?” he asked.

“and this is why you’re best friend.” i grin linking arms with him.

“we are best friends because you have co dependency issues and haven’t been able to let me go since the third grade.”

i laugh at his joke tossing a pillow in his direction. he throws his arms up protecting his head from my attacks. we go back and forth reminiscing over old memories together like the time i came home crying after a boy i liked rejected me or the time vernon thought he could run through the grass field before the sprinklers could turn on without getting wet. in the middle of laughing over old memories, an unknown overwhelming feeling hits me. i look up at vernon from my eyelashes as he hugs himself trying to catch his breath from laughing. a wave nostalgia hits me remembering the scene of fiona and her estranged mom except i was remembering how vernon and i have gone estranged.

“hey, is everything okay? you’re crying.” his voice filled with concern, wiping away a tear from the corner.

i smile at him. my eyes glossy mumbling, “yeah. i just missed you.”

“you’ve been here with me all day. i am not sure how you’re missing me.”

i roll my eyes at him before shoving his shoulder gently, “i meant, in general, loser. i missed spending time with you especially around the holiday season. it’s hits me more that we have grown distant.”

a few tears slip down my cheek as i sniffle. the guys all looked at one another and talk over one another to leave the living room. they scatter out of my apartment leaving vernon and i alone. a hollow hole sits in the chest making it hard to compose myself. vernon straighten his posture, his shoulders rigid as he wraps an arm around me.

“y/n, i am still here for you and i always will be. i haven’t gone anywhere.” he reassures me.

“i know. it’s just things have been different. you know they’ve changed, it’s not the same like before when we used to always hang out and see each other. now we have lives that we gotta live, even if it means we aren’t a part of each other’s everyday. it’s just sucks a little more on the day when i miss you, that’s all. i am not trying to be too mushy or anything.”

i wipe away my tears finally taking a breath. for years i have grown comfortable with how our dynamic in our friendship has changed. slowly vernon stopped texting me, but i can’t fully blame him. i have also withdrawn from him too. i got scared waiting to see if he would make time for me again and i decided to board up my heart so no one could break it.

after running into vernon after years of barely contacting one another, the feelings of longing make a surprise appearance. my heart slowly cracks thinking about all the broken slow replied exts and cancelled hang outs which never got rescheduled.

vernon squeezes my shoulder pulling me closer to him and rest his head against mine. “y/n,i have missed you too. i agree it’s not not the same like it was before. things have changed and i will fault in that for growing apart from you. i just want to remind you that even though life does take over you’ll always be my person. no one gets me like you do, so i don’t ever want to lose you. you’re my safe place and best friend.”

“vernon, you jerk! you’re not supposed to say these things to me.” i cried, smacking his arm. “you’re my safe place too. i just miss having you around and feeling connected with you. nowadays it just feels like we are casual acquaintances and i don’t like it”

“how about once a month we plan a weekend hang out together?” he suggested.

“i am not sure i want to see your face once a month.” i tap my finger against my chin out of contemplation. “wait! how can we even hang out once a weekend? your schedule is literally packed throughout the entire year.”

“okay maybe a weekend is a bit of a stretch considering we are both out traveling with packed schedules. we can have weekly facetime calls to catch up and talk. also if one of us is in town then we can meet up.”

“sounds like a doable plan, mr. chwe.” i grin looking at him. i held my pinky up to him, “to being acquaintance to best friends again.”

“y/n, we’ve always been best friends.” he laughs.

“okay, to finding our way back to each other.”

he links his pinky with mine, “to finding our way back to each other.”

[rin-solo]

You are absolutely correct to point this out. Tagging @glisten-inthedark because this feels like something you'll enjoy. The whole "7 years aren't as long for a god as for a human" thing aside, this just beautifully shows how differently they view each other.

To Odysseus, Poseidon was never more than just another obstacle to getting home. A much more competent, dangerous obstacle than any other, but still just an obstacle that he had no particular or special feelings toward beyond, "I have to avoid this guy." Then he spends 7 years at Calypso's and naturally forgets all about Poseidon because he just doesn't assume that Poseidon would care about him that much either.

... But Poseidon does. And that's the beautiful irony of it all ... To Poseidon, Odysseus is so much more than just a mortal who blinded his son that one time; if the Vengeance saga proves anything, it's this. Think about it—he doesn't mention Polyphemus at all anymore in this saga. Instead, he admits straight out that he's avenging "his reputation"—a fancy way of saying, "I'm hunting you for myself and my own reasons now."

And he does. He waited for him—not because of his son but because of himself. Because he does feel something for Odysseus as a person, be it hatred, indignation, or something entirely else. Whatever it is, it's personal for him, and for him alone.

He cares so much about being the one to kill him that he waits for a decade (even if that's only akin to, like, 10 weeks or something for a god, that's still 10 weeks of camping in front of someone's house to get their attention!) I don't think anyone would shame or fault him for letting Odysseus live anymore either, like I've seen some people say, especially since it was Zeus' decree that Odysseus be released.

No, Poseidon waited for Odysseus because Poseidon wanted to wait for him. Poseidon remembered Odysseus because he was "something" to him, as opposed to Odysseus, who just straight up forgot or assumed he got bored and/or had better things to do with his immortal life (a very fair assumption, honestly.) The fact that Poseidon didn't get bored and didn't have better things to do with his life tells us so much about his character that I could write a whole essay on it ... I've covered parts of it in my Get In The Water analysis and also this lil thing, but I might write a full essay on this someday.

And that's the beautiful, poetic, almost ... tragedy of it all since it's so clearly one-sided: Odysseus feels nothing—no hatred, no attachment, not even enough to consider he might still be after him—whereas Poseidon feels ... everything? A lot, at least.

It's literally a case of "the opposite of love isn't hate (or the other way around, either work); it's indifference." Odysseus is indifferent. But what you, dear god of tides, have is a very serious case of obsession. You might want to—oh, no, he can't hear me; he's passed out on some rock shore, bleeding profusely. We can only hope that being defeated, humiliated, and confronted with his vulnerability in this manner didn't only deepen his obsession. Why do I have a bad, bad feeling about this though ...

My favorite thing in Epic that we don't talk enough about is that during the Circe and Thunder sagas, Odysseus was pretty much aware that Poseidon was after him. But in Vengeance saga, considering his reaction at Poseidon's appearance in "Get in the Water", he kinda thought that Poseidon must've forgotten and let go until that time. BUT HE DIDN'T. THE MAN WAS OBSESSED WITH ODYSSEUS FOR SEVEN YEARS

[dis-astre]

BREAKDOWN OF LES MISÉRABLES IN FRANCE : ACT I

- they use the almost same costumes as the west end which... great bc sometimes france tends to make....... weird choices concerning their costume department for musical shows

- lots of projections for the decor, the set was very sleek, but they used it well

- javert was on point, props to the actor honestly he was one of the best thing of the show

- the actors in general were hitting those notes like craaaaazy, they were all so good

- the thenardier got me laughing uncontrollably, they were perfect and master of the house was *chief kiss*, people dancing on the tables, a lot of things were going on in the background which added to the chaos which was perfect

- master of the house is disgustingly perfect in french

- they were little kids in the audience and i don't think the parents were rlly aware of the show bc... well first the language is rlly crude (even more than the last french version), and they have sex on stage at some point in lovely ladies???? (honestly don't remember if this was in the west end version circa 2019 pls if u know enlighten me)

- the kids playing eponine, cosette and gavroche were so great they got a standing ovation and all

- for the confrontation, javert has a rifle and they basically play hide and seek like valjean hides from javert in the hospital and javert hunt him and the nurses are trying to help valjean (at some point one hides the gun under the bed of a patient and it's was funny)

- THEY MADE MONTPARNASSE SO GAY?????? LIKE????? bro was this big tall twink behaving like 💅💅🌈✨✨💃💅🌈💃✨✨💅 guuuuuurl, he was so coquette i stg, so that was fun

- les amis were >>> amazing, loved them sm ! it was really less gay and enjoltaire than the english production and overall the choices made were real different from what i had seen before and i loved that; i think it comes from the fact that french ppl tend to stay more "true" to the original work especially with such an important book as Les Mis but i'll explain myself more in act II

- in the beginning of abc cafe, R is drinking from a bottle and Enj just casually pass by him and grab the bottle before physically sitting him down

- R proceeded to try and grab the bottle from everyone and they were all exchanging the bottle to get it away from him

- he also was ALWAYS talking and laughing with les amis and making jokes like trying to shake hands with one of them and then retracting his hand last moment, childish plays and so cute to watch them laugh and interact like that

- when enjolras started talking, R stopped everything and put his chin in his hands and started looking at him with stars in his eyes and the biggest smile (he was so hot pls help) and that was so cute

- "marius you're late" was said in the most annoyed french tone and i love it

- after R verse and "it is better than an opera", everyone was clapping and enjolras was sulking in a corner, and one of the amis (presumably combeferre) went "OH SHUSH" in the most Dad Voice ever to shut everyone up and proceed to motion to enjolras to come back and talk

- R casually jumping on chairs

- R never got his bottle back so he proceed to open a book, read it and tried to show everyone what he was reading and talked about the book; and idk i loved that yes show how much of a yapper and actually a smart man my guy is

- i finally got to hear what they say for the "general lamarque is dead" part bc it's never on any album and it's really so close to the english version, except instead of saying to R "do we have the guns we need?", enj say something along the line of "R put the bottle down and chose a weapon" and R goes basically like "oh no needs my breathe will kill two in one blow" so pretty close to the english verse and i love it

- do you hear the people sing was amazing with the new lyrics

- they changed a lyric in one day more and i'm so SO glad they did bc i HATED it, so basically in french we have "you" meaning "tu/toi" as like a singular individual or you say "tu/toi" to a close person; and "you" as "vous" as like more than one person or you say "vous" to someone you don't know/respect. and in the original version for "my place is here, i fight with you" marius say "ma place est là, auprès de toi" and now he says "auprès de vous" and that's SO MUCH BETTER bc the original lyric is like... who tf is "toi" bc it's not a plural so is it cosette ?? which is inaccurate, or is it enjolras ?? which doesn't make any sense at all bc he fight with all of les amis, not just one ??????? so yeah, one of the best lyric change they've made

anyway here's some pro shots and i'll make a part II later for act II byeeee

[axel-ambassador]

Wait, can you write Charlie asking Vaggie out in hogbin -okay no that sounds even worse- au?

Or maybe Vaggie's first lesson back after the attack

Chaggie time!!

It was a quiet summer's night, save for the sound of two girls whispering in the comfort of the Carmine residence, sat on the youngest Carmine's bed.

"And suddenly, Odette's in the air being magically suspended by her foot. So she used the same spell to put Clara in the air too! Mamá had to threaten to take their brooms away cuz they wouldn't put each other down!" Vaggie recalled, electing a quiet laugh from Charlie, making her chuckle in turn.

"...I missed this." Charlie sighed with a melancholic smile.

Vaggie managed a grin of her own. "Me too." Her smile dropped as the cause of the decline in their relationship was brought to the forefront of her mind. "I'm sorry I ruined what we had-"

"I know." Charlie gently interrupted. "I've already forgiven you."

"I know, I just...you're so good."

"You're good, too." Vaggie scoffed in response. "I mean it. You've always been good, you just...chose to hide it, and..." She took Vaggie's hand. "You don't have to hide anymore."

Vaggie felt her face heat, and was thankful the room was probably dark enough to hide it. She swallowed, throat suddenly feeling dry. "Charlie..."

"I like you, Vaggie. I always have. I want to be with you, make up for lost time." Charlie confessed, feeling the sweat on the back of her neck as her cheeks erupted in red.

For a moment, Vaggie was speechless. There was no way the girl who had made her question her sexuality was now confessing to her. "You...want to be with me?"

Charlie nodded, ever bold despite her thundering heart. "Only if you want that as well. If not..." Her gaze dropped, darkening ever so slightly but never losing its warmth. "...I'll still happily be your best friend, it'll be like nothing has changed."

"But they have changed! I've changed," Vaggie gestured to herself. "You've changed," she motioned to the tips of black still colored in Charlie's bangs. "You deserve so much better than me. I'm just as bad as Sev-"

"Please." Charlie scoffed. "Sev didn't give two shits about me." Her gaze narrowed on Vaggie's uncovered left eye, or lack thereof. "You threw a quidditch match and the house cup away just to prove how much you cared, and you didn't even expect me to forgive you. That's so..."

"Both incredibly selfish and selfless?"

"Yes, but more than that! You put everything aside just for me. I can't even begin to describe how special that makes me feel." Charlie gushed. Vaggie flushed. "I just..." She rested a hand on Vaggie's left cheek, and Vaggie could only watch her with a wide eye. "I wish you didn't have to suffer because of that."

"It was worth it," Vaggie responded without hesitation, relishing the touch. "Despite how...hard everything is, it's worth it. I'd do it again if it meant earning your forgiveness." Charlie pushed down the tight feeling in her throat, nearly being moved to tears. "And...I know helping me the past few months hasn't been easy. Thank you...for helping me through this, Char."

She turned away, blind spot out of Charlie's view. She swallowed, trying not to choke on her words. "I do want this, but...please, be honest...do you, really want this? All of it?"

Charlie reached over and brushed Vaggie's bangs behind her ear, exposing the nasty scars. The empty eye, the damaged tear duct, the sliced eyebrow, the chopped ear, all of it. "All of it."

Vaggie finally made eye contact. She was still in disbelief. She had only ever dreamed of this moment. "If this is what you really want..."

Charlie reached her other hand up to Vaggie's other cheek. "Do I need to repeat myself?" She teased. Vaggie managed a giddy chuckle. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

Their lips connected, officially sealing their relationship.

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 62

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 59, part 60, part 61

the first part takes place somewhere between parts part 37 and part 39, the second part takes place during part 40, and the last part takes place sometime between part 40 and part 41.

“No, no, no,” Steve complains as the radio just keeps talking. He had switched it to the game while he was making dinner, seeing if it was anything worth watching. “Come on.”

Considering how bad they were losing, it might give him more stress to watch it happen.

“Something goin’ on,” Wayne asks, rummaging around the fridge to find something to eat before going to work.

“Nothing serious. Just a bunch of idiots who can’t seem to actually score anything good.”

“Listening to the game?”

Steve laughs. “Yeah. Might just turn it off, it’s pissing me off.”

“Oh, I know the feeling. I normally listen to the game on my way to work, find myself turning it off when I can’t take it anymore.”

He turns to stir the stir fry he was making in the pan. Lowering the heat so it doesn’t burn. “If there’s nothing good in the fridge, you can have some of this. I made too much for myself anyway.”

“Thanks.” Wayne grabs a bowl. “If it won’t piss you off too much, we could go and watch some of the game before I have to leave.”

Something in that makes Steve freeze for a moment. No one ever offers to watch the games with him. Nancy would sometimes, back when they were dating, but was never really into it. Back when he was friends with Tommy and Carol, they would sneak off halfway through. And just the mere mention of watching it now makes Robin gag, and Dustin roll his eyes.

The only person he can remember watching it with was once with his dad. He was seven and his dad called him into the living room, made him sit down. Asked somewhere between the fifth and sixth inning if Steve ever wanted to play. He knew, then, that if he did, it would make his dad proud. He said yes.

He never liked playing baseball as much as watching it, though. He switched to basketball and swimming in middle school, played that the rest of the way through high school. But that moment was one of the only nice memories he had of his dad.

“Yeah,” he says. Trying to play off whatever he was feeling. “That would be nice.”

Wayne walks away, waiting for Steve as he searches for the channel on the TV. Steve sits down on the other end of the couch. Watching the train wreck of a game, but that’s not what he was focusing on anymore.

It’s stupid, he knows. But somewhere, right now, that hole in his chest fills a little bit. For a moment he can pretend that he’s seven years old again, watching the game with his dad. It’s better this time, though. Now it’s with someone who cares.

“If you ever wanted to make this a little sweeter, a small bit of honey goes a long way,” Wayne offers during a commercial break.

“Really.”

Wayne nods. “Just a little bit, don’t need to go wasting it. But it just adds a little more flavor to it.”

Steve smiles. “I’ll have to try that next time.”

. . .

Steve’s out in the garage when he hears it. Someone in the house calling out his name. The closer he gets, the more distressed it sounds. He tries to remain calm as he finds who it is, but the panic is there.

And then he realizes that it’s Dustin, and everything starts to crumble.

“Dustin,” he says, trying to mask the panic in his voice.

Dustin’s just standing there in the hall, tears streaming down his face. He opens his mouth to try to say something, but all that comes out is a sob. His knees buckle and Steve rushes forward to catch him.

“What’s wrong,” the panic asks. “Are you hurt?”

“You—” is all Dustin says, the words broken off with another sob.

Steve holds him upright and brings him to the living room. Gets him to sit down, calm down. When he starts to breath less frantically, Steve leaves to go get some water from the kitchen. He finds Dustin’s backpack, the radio inside going off like crazy.

“Dustin,” Mike’s voice cracks through. “Dustin, do you copy?”

He finds the walkie. “It’s Steve, he’s at my place.”

“Oh thank God. He just ran off; we didn’t know where he went.”

“Is he ok,” Lucas speaks over Mike to ask.

“Doesn’t look like he’s injured, I’m pretty sure he had a panic attack, though. I’m making sure he’s ok.”

“Ok. Thanks, Steve.”

He returns to the living room, finally gets Dustin to tell him what happened. All of this started because Steve wasn’t at work. Because he called out. The panic on his face says something different, though. Something deeper.

“Dustin, talk to me,” he tries to coax. “What’s going on?”

“No one tell me anything,” Dustin practically yells. “I have to find out everything from someone else, or days, or weeks later. I never get told anything by the person themselves. I’m always the last to know.”

“Dustin—” Steve tries to explain.

Dustin doesn’t let him, though. “No. I’m tired of the excuses. I’m tired of you saying that it’s not my thing to worry about. Because I do. No matter how hard you think you shield me from it, I worry about it. Every day I wake up and wonder if your head is killing you. If when I see you later, you’re going to be how you were before, or a ghost of yourself. If I’m going to look at you push yourself for my betterment. When I know that you’re in pain.”

Stupidly, Steve thought he was hiding it well enough. There was that little bit Dustin saw last week, but that was a one-time thing. He didn’t need to know more; he didn’t need to worry about Steve.

“You’re like a brother to me, Steve. You’re family. I don’t know why you think you can just get away with hiding this from me, but you can’t. Because I love you and all I’m asking is to know what is going on with you. Is that such a big thing to ask?”

Brother, family. Hearing those from Dustin hits Steve harder than he thought they would. Because, deep down, he knew that. He knew that him and Dustin were close, and that they acted like brothers would. There was just that voice in his head that told him it was all fake. That Steve couldn’t really mean that much to Dustin, not when he had a family of his own.

Steve pulls Dustin into a hug, holding him closer than he needs to. But really, he does need to. “I’m sorry.” It doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s a start. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

. . .

Steve shoots out of his sleep, sitting upright. Breaths leaving his lungs faster than he can suck them in. Heart beating so fast, it could run right out of his chest.

A trembling hand reaches out to click the lamp on his bedside. Three things. The swim trophy he won in his senior year. The picture of the party on his desk. His overflowing laundry basket. All things that can’t be in that place. They are all too new.

He wasn’t there. He was home.

In for four, out for eight. Until his breathing slows, his heart calms. The jittering comes to a steady pace. He won’t be able to go back to sleep. But he’s at least not panicking.

Well, not as much as he was.

Because he needs to do something, he stands and grabs the laundry. Takes it to the laundry room and throws it in. Stops to go and change his clothes, before shoving them in the washer too. It isn’t enough.

He heads to the kitchen, pulls out a book and opens the dog-eared page. Begins a recipe that he probably knew by heart by now, but needs to read. Because the steps, the simplicity, the method, it was calming in a way he couldn’t voice.

Robin was the first person Steve ever baked with. She had come over one day back in the summer complaining that her mom was trying this new health trend, and refused to buy any chocolate chips. And well, since he had an empty house, and at that point a hefty food budget from his parents, he offered to get the stuff to make it.

At first, they used the recipe on the back of the bag. Spent most of the time laughing, and spilling half the ingredients on the floor. He didn’t care. It was the first time that the house felt alive again.

What he didn’t realize, then, was how calming baking could be. How following a recipe precisely could calm nerves. Place the fear into something productive, and give it away. Steve didn’t make much, sometimes he would stray from the simple recipe, but nothing brough comfort like homemade chocolate chip cookies. Nothing reminded him how much he wasn’t alone.  

“We have to stop meeting like this, Steve,” Eddie’s voice echoes through the kitchen. He walks over to the island, taking a seat. “What will the town say?”

Steve smiles. “I don’t care for what the town says about me anymore.”

Eddie stares at him for a moment, thinking that Steve doesn’t notice. He does. It was painfully obvious, but Steve didn’t care. It’s been so long that someone stared at him for who he is, instead of who they want him to be. The look made Steve feel alive, in a way, like he was still capable of something.

And really, if Steve wanted to push, it could mean that the ignited heat that traveled with each stare might lead to something. Because, if his peripheral wasn’t fooling him, Eddie looked at him with such adoration it made Steve simultaneously melt and feel like a phony. How someone as amazing as Eddie looked at him like that, he didn’t know. But he felt like he didn’t deserve it.

“What are you making,” Eddie asks as Steve cracks the second egg into the bowl.

“Chocolate chip cookies.”

Eddie hums. “Didn’t take you as much of a baker. Especially a midnight baker. There’s a backstory to that one, I’m sure. Let me see.”

He does this thing, sometimes, where he just goes off on a tangent of one thought melding together with the next. Creative thoughts stringing together in one story, much larger than it needs to be. Steve likes listening to it, though. It’s kinda cute.

“So either,” Eddie continues, “you are so ashamed of your secret love for baking that you only allow yourself to partake in such activities in the dead of night. Or. You are secretly a night owl, which is why you are so perky in the morning. You’ve already been up for hours, and are not tired.”

He laughs. “I’m not that perky in the mornings.”

“If you smile at me before eight am, that therefore makes you perky.”

“Maybe I just like smiling at you. Ever think of that?” He looks at Eddie when he says that. Sees the teasing smile turn into shock. Unexpected shock, but not unpleasant.

Steve’s reckless with his feelings sometimes. It makes him say things like that. Makes that beating of his heart come back. But instead of fear, it pumps him full of something else. Something terrified him in a way he was comfortable with.

And it meant that Eddie looked at him like that, and let Steve know it. It made Steve think that maybe, just maybe, he isn’t crazy for this. He hasn’t lost his mind. He isn’t making a stupid mistake. He might just be making the right decision for once.

The oven beeps that it’s done preheating, breaking Steve away. He hopes that it doesn’t mean Eddie does too.

“How’d I do,” Eddie asks as Steve starts to place cookies on the sheet pan. “With my guesses.”

“Not entirely wrong, I am up for longer than you think I am, sometimes. But not because I’m secret night owl.”

Eddie reaches out and steals the spatula. Hesitating for a moment to see if Steve would stop him. He doesn’t. “Why then?”

“Nightmares.”

The room falls to silence except for the clicking of the scoop.

Steve sighs. “When I get a bad one, I need to do something to get my mind off it. If it’s light out, I go for a run, or a drive. If it’s night, I bake. Sometimes I clean, but that never really helps as much as baking does. Not sure why that sticks so much.”

“I get it,” Eddie almost whispers as Steve slides the cookies into the oven. “Before, when my hands didn’t actively hate me, if I couldn’t sleep, I would play something on my acoustic. It helped calm me down. Playing songs I knew by heart, feeling the motions of my hand playing the notes, it was the most calm I ever felt.”

He wishes he was there to watch Eddie play. He could only hear it, just slightly able to differentiate the live playing from the recording. Steve can imagine what he looked like, but he wished he didn’t have to.

“You’re going to be able to play again, you know.” He doesn’t know what compels him to say it, but he really believes it. “With your determination, I think you could do anything.”

Eddie scoffs, rich in pain. “I wish I was as optimistic as you are.”

“Just because you think that it won’t ever happen again, doesn’t mean it won’t. That pool out there, I haven’t been able to fill it for two years. Something happened in there that made me never want to fill it again. But I did. And maybe when I stop thinking something’s going to pull me into another dimension, I’ll be able to swim in it again.” He turns to look out the kitchen window, seeing the moonlight reflect on the water. “I used to love to swim.”

He did. Before the upside down, when it was just a normal life that were giving him problems, he would swim lap after lap. Until his muscles were sore and his body still felt the waves of the water even when on land. Each time his arm crashed into the water, his frustrations melted away.

“Maybe both of us could find a way to love what we used to again,” Steve finishes.

He turns back to look at Eddie, seeing a mix of emotions in his face. The thing that stands out the most is the want to believe him. The want to believe that the weakness in his hands won’t stop him from playing again. That somewhere in the future, it could be possible to.

Steve really believes that it’s possible. It will just take time. Far too much time, creating nothing but frustration and anger. But it is possible. He believes that. And maybe, just maybe, if Steve could still be lucky enough to have Eddie in his life, he could witness it happen.

If the secondary look that Eddie’s giving him is any solace that what Steve feels isn’t one sided, maybe it could guarantee that. Maybe, if Steve could find the words and tell him, or lean forward and just take a chance, he could see if it’s possible.

The timer beeps, breaking whatever moment they had. It’s for the best, really. Steve can’t lose a friendship over the possibility of maybe. He’s lost too much already to that.

apparently my goal when writing this is how much I can make myself cry, because that bit with Wayne and Dustin definitely got me there

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[azrielgreen]

Dear Az,

I wanted to take a moment to express my thoughts about Prism. First of all, thank you for continuing this incredible story. Your writing has always been captivating, and the world you’ve created means so much to so many of us.

That said, I hope you won’t mind me sharing some feelings as a reader who deeply loves Prism. I’ve noticed the pace of the story has recently sped up, and it feels like some of the plot’s richness is being lost in the process. Themes like Dissociative Identity Disorder/Age Regression, the rebuilding of the house, the wedding, Billy’s life in prison, and Steve’s past with Tommy—all of these are such intricate, layered elements. They deserve time to breathe and unfold, the way you and Brook masterfully handled the earlier parts of the story.

Another thing I’ve come to realize is how much the waiting between chapters contributed to Prism’s atmosphere. It allowed the tension to linger, making the story feel more intimate and immersive, which is so essential for a horror narrative. The suspense of waiting was part of the magic — it gave us time to sit with the fear and let it grow. Rushing the story risks losing that core essence.

Please don’t feel pressured to finish this story quickly. I know many readers, myself included, would wait as long as it takes to see the story develop at its own natural rhythm. I promise. I’m begging. The beauty of Prism lies in its depth and the careful build-up of tension, fear, and emotion. I know you’re capable of continuing that magic, and I truly believe in your vision.

Thank you for all the love and effort you’ve poured into this work. Your talent is undeniable, and I hope this note feels more like encouragement than criticism. I can’t wait to see what’s next for Prism.

Warmly,

One of Jack knives.

Hi, thank you for your insight and sharing thoughts. The last two chapters should really have been one massive chapter that I split for time reasons, hence the fast posting and i did intentionally write them to have this whirlwind "removed from reality" feeling where all else seems to fade. I would never ever rush Prism, and I'm writing as both Brooke and I intended, i.e., following the outline we devised together. It's also really hard to write this story without her for so many reasons, and though I'm doing everything i can, I know I should work harder to keep it at the level it was before. It's a huge adjustment for me, and believe it or not, I am trying my best, but i can always try harder and level up, so I'll work towards that during future chapters. I did really just want to do something nice by posting before the 24th and try to fully immerse myself in the story again. Writing it solo is really hard. I'll try harder going forward.

[gravity-falls-fanatic89]

Me, just having a moment here...I'm not a fan of Christmas because of it being a lot, so I wrote a little comfort story just to help myself and all of us know Stan would be there if you needed the support. 🫂

Stan Pines x Reader fluff/All ages

Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas With You

It was Christmas day, and it looked like a picture perfect snow outside the windows of the Shack. You woke up to Stan with his arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin nested on the top of your head. You couldn't help but snuggle in deeper to him, and burrow a little in his arms and the blankets.

But your wiggling made him wake up with a snort. "Mornin' babe. Merry Christmas." And you turned your head to give him a kiss on the chin. He still had his eyes closed, but smirked.

"Alright, if ya just wanna stay in bed, we can do that for Christmas instead," he said, nestling his scruffy chin into the back of your neck and hair.

"Merry Christmas handsome," you sighed. "And as much as I would love to spend the day in your arms, everyone is going to be over in a bit. We should get ready."

"Alright, alright...I'll getcha later, babydoll." And he kissed your neck, and you two got dressed for the little party you were having at the Shack.

Everyone came and the party went well. The place was warm and cozy, and everyone was enjoying food, and each other's company. As it was getting dark, you started to feel tired, and realized you forgot your anxiety meds. Realizing that made you start to get nerved up, and feel claustrophobic in the house.

Before you could feel a panic attack come, you excused yourself from Melody and Wendy, stepping out onto the back porch by the old Pitt Cola machine. Snow was falling steady, and calmed you down, reminding you of the snowglobes you used to have as a kid.

Closing your eyes, you took a bunch of huge breaths, and focused on listening to the wind as it lightly blew. It was cold, and soothing at the same time. Then you heard the door behind you open, as Stan stepped out.

"Gettin' overwhelmed hon?" he asked, putting a thick blanket over your shoulders and handing you a hot chocolate.

"A little bit. Just so many conversations going on, the lights are bright, and it was really stuffy," you said, feeling guilty. "Sorry I had to step out."

Stan put his arm around your shoulders, and squeezed. "Ya never need to be sorry for that. No one thought a thing about it. So, drink the hot chocolate, and I'm gonna dim the lights for dinner, and get it calmer in there for ya."

He bent in to give you a kiss, and you giggled as you looked up afterwards, seeing him hold mistletoe over the two of you.

"Thank you handsome, I needed that." And you sipped the hot chocolate as he went back inside to get dinner set.

You drank the hot chocolate, and closed your eyes for a little longer, thankful for the sweet gestures that Stan had done to help you through Christmas. It took everything out of you to get through the holidays, and he was on top of it all: Picking out a tree, decorating with you, finding gifts, wrapping them, baking cookies....Just all of it. He kept you from sinking into a bad rut like years past before you met him.

A final gulp from the cup, and you proceeded into the Shack, and the lights were off, minus the tree in the living room. The warm glow was relaxing and eased your anxious mind. Everyone was at the table, minus Stan, as he was walking over to check on you again.

"Better, sweetheart?"

You looked up at him, and your heart felt full, and loved. "Yeah, I'm much better now, handsome. Thank you for being here for me through all this. This has been one of the nicest Christmas holidays I've had, and I'm excited to celebrate Hanukah with the kids too. I love you so much...And Merry Christmas, my love."

And you tilted up for a kiss, and Stan drew back. "I love you too, and Merry Christmas. Now, let's go celebrate and enjoy it with family."

He took your hand, and you walked in together, and your Christmas was complete.

[anamericangirl]

This was very sad for me to read and I completely empathize with how you are feeling - especially because the situation you are in I was in not too long ago. In my thirties, was having to live with my parents, and single. And I know first hand how hard and depressing that kind of situation is and was at a point where it looked like I would never get out of it and just wanted to give up because my life felt meaningless and no matter how hard I tried nothing about my circumstances would ever change - but I was wrong. Those feelings I had and had convinced myself were accurate were all false and they were temporary even though at the time it did not feel temporary.

Now, everything about my circumstances hasn't changed. I'm still in my thirties and still single but I'm in a much better place mentally and spiritually and those things don't matter to me or bring me down. I'm not upset about being single and I'll even be ok if I'm single forever because I know my worth as a human being isn't tied to my relationship status or age and that's true for you too. Your value as a person isn't tied to your relationship status, age, or where you live or who you live with. I know it's depressing when it's not where you want to be, but it's not indicative of a life that's not worth living. And honestly, these feelings that you are having and are projecting onto your circumstances are internal issues that aren't going to be fixed by finding a partner or moving out of your parents house. I know it can feel like that's all you need to be happy but those aren't the source of your troubles and they won't be the solutions. Even when my circumstances started to change for the better the depression didn't go away because my circumstances weren't actually the source of my depression. I had to mentally and spiritually reset myself.

I'm so sorry that's the impression you've been getting from the Christian crowd, but it's a completely inaccurate and unbiblical perspective. While kids are wonderful and a source of joy and become the most important of part of a person's life if they are blessed with children, your life can be just as important and fulfilling and valuable without children. Children are great but not everyone is called to have children and anyone who pressures a person and makes them feel like shit for being single and childless is a jerk. Which is why when I mention Christianity and God I don't recommend seeking out Christians, I recommend seeking out God.

Casting your cares and anxieties on God and seeking comfort through his word and putting your trust and faith in him is where the healing comes from. That is the main thing that got me through my depression. God is the worthwhile thing to live for. He gives your life purpose and meaning and created you specially and intentionally. God created you because he thought the world needed you and he's not done with you yet.

Not killing yourself is not cowardice - it is strength. I can tell you don't want to die, you just are at a loss because you don't see an end to your situation but I promise you there is one and it takes strength and resilience to push through the periods of life where it all feels pointless and hopeless and that's what you are doing!

No one is lying about grieving their loved ones. You are putting too much worth on being married and having kids and that's not the solution to your problems. Being married or whatever doesn't take away the love people have for the others in their life. Doing fine in life doesn't mean you won't grieve the loss of a loved one. I lost a family member to suicide years ago and I will never stop grieving him no matter how my circumstances change in the future - for better or for worse.

Your self worth doesn't come from your circumstances, the circumstances of the other people in your life, or the opinions of other people and you will always be disappointed as long as you are looking there for value.

I know I'm just a stranger on the internet and this all will probably mean nothing to you but I truly hope something resonates with you at least a little bit. You can talk or vent to me anytime and I will be praying for you every day <3

What’s a good reason to not take my own life? I’ve been feeling this way for years. Been to multiple treatment programs. Seen by several different therapists. Anti-depressants. I frequently go outdoors to exercise. Try to fill up my life with being optimistic about my (admittedly nice) job, hobbies, travel, and volunteering. And yet I’m still no better than I was 5 years ago and I have no hope about a happy future. “Your family will miss you.” Ok, and? I think it’s selfish to tell people in pain to continue living like that because some people might temporarily feel sad. They’ll eventually move on. My friends too, especially the ones who are happily married “to their best friends” and having babies and are so happy that they forget I exist.

Hey anon I hope I am not too late! I am just getting out of a hurricane and was without internet access for several days so i apologize for the delay.

But there are so many reasons not to take your own life. In fact, I can’t think of a single reason why you should.

I know it’s tough right now and trust me, I know that depression makes it all feel pointless and worthless and can plague you for years but even though if feels like forever I promise you these feelings and this depression and your circumstances are TEMPORARY. And it would be a tragedy for you to take your life over temporary circumstances and not see what is possible on the other side.

Yes your family and friends will miss you but you should stay because your life has purpose and meaning! Therapy and anti-depressants are good and I’m glad you’ve been trying those things because that means you don’t actually want to die - you just want the pain to stop. And that’s completely understandable and also manageable!

It’s great that you’ve been continuing to exercise and do volunteer work because those things can definitely impact your mood, but they aren’t the source of true joy, peace and happiness. Now I’m a Christian so I’m sure it won’t surprise you for me to say this, but what you are looking for and what you need can only come from God. I urge you to put your faith and trust in him and give him your burdens.

The devil has a hold on you right now, don’t let him win!

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” - Isaiah 41:10

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. - Jeremiah 29:11

“The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” - John 10:10

“Cast your cares on the LORD and he will sustain you; he will never let the righteous be shaken.” - psalm 55:22

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the LORD delivers him from them all.” - psalm 34:18-19

But now that I’ve gone on my spiel, here are some reasons I think it’s good to keep living. Not all my original thoughts but ones i agree with.

1. You matter

2. No one else is you.

3. Your younger self

4. Your next favorite song.

5. Warm blankets.

6. Thunderstorms

7. The fact that you’re in control of your future.

8. Experiencing new cultures.

9. Making new friends.

10. Road trips.

11. Sunsets and sunrises.

12. Reading good books.

13. Learning a new language.

14. Adopting a pet.

15. Fresh baked bread and cookies.

16. Getting packages in the mail.

17. Autumn.

18. Pumpkin spice.

19. Drinking coffee in the morning.

20. Beaches and being able to sink your toes into the sand.

21. Stepping on crunchy leaves.

22. Recovery.

23. Falling in love.

24. Rain.

25. Petting puppies and kittens.

26. Drinking water.

27. Trying something new and loving it.

28. Your favorite artist putting out new music.

29. A new season on your favorite TV show.

30. Planting a garden and growing your own vegetables.

31. Farmers Markets.

32. Trying out the newest local coffee shop or restaurant.

33. Karaoke

34. All of the people you have yet to meet.

35. Horseback riding

36. Stars.

37. Ice cream.

38. Ice tea.

39. Scented candles.

40. Learning something new.

41. Museums.

42. Going to the movies.

43. Hearing your favorite song come on the radio.

44. Learning to make a new recipe.

45. Your life is precious.

46. You are enough.

47. Random acts of kindness.

48. God looked at the world and thought it needed you.

49. Your story could save someone else.

50. Looking back on this time in 10 years and realizing you made it.

There’s an endless amount of reasons to stay alive and I hope some of them resonate with you.

But if you are desperate please reach out to the suicide prevention hotline at 988. If you are outside the US then you can find the number for your location here.

Please know that I am praying for you and please reach out to me again if you want to. I would love to keep up with how you are doing 💜

[fishgills]

chimera falin stamps because i just binged this show and couldn’t find any that i liked

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.