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ya’ll were really gonna let me live my life in ignorance thinking mr. rogers was straight???

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AHHHHHHH I LOVE THIS

>i love that grumpy bear v-v

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This was supposed to made around Christmas 😔

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This felt like a very Ellen Scrooge X Jacob Marley thing to me:

@a-christmas-carol-from-hr

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He has a bit of the ‘tism for sure

Peepaw is infodumping

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nerds

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h/w sketches and notes from the past few weeks <3

the first drawing based off the classic Go For It, Nakamura! meme

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The Swordmaker and his Meteorite Child.

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Lee behavior:

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40 YEAR OLD MAN SPOTTED PERFORMING TIKTOK BEHAVIOR ‼️‼️

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Close enough happy 144th anniversary Sherlock Holmes and John Watson!

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The yapper and the listener🙏

Just wanted to get some fast dopamine and made this little thing I'm tired asf

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~ books read in 2024 ~

#30: A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

Marley was dead, to begin with.

Rating: 5/5

Three Sentence Review: A bright spot on a Christmas Day completely disrupted by bronchitis - getting to curl up and enjoy re-reading this classic in a single day! This is a repost of my original moodboard from 2022, which has some sort of glitch that makes it not show up on my blog. Who knows, I might try to read some of Dickens' other works next year!

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HEY WHAT THE FUCK—

IM SUING YOU FOR EMOTIONAL DAMAGE

Fred’s line “Well, my mum liked him and she was cool, so maybe he wasn’t always cruel” suggests that VHSCC Fan died when Fred was old enough to remember her. And isn’t that a thought.

Imagine being a little boy and knowing Scrooge as your uncle. An uncle who becomes increasingly awkward, gruff, curt and distant over the years, but who always melts into Mummy’s touch just like you do, always laughs at her jokes and smiles listening to her stories. He isn’t around much, busy with his career, but he makes the time for family on birthdays and holidays. He brings his friend Belle with him. They love each other very much, like Mummy and Daddy, and sometimes they talk about kids. You’d like cousins.

One Christmas he and Belle stop being friends. You barely see Uncle Scrooge after that. The few occasions you do he’s so sad that not even Mum can cheer him up anymore, sad and then angry all the time. It gets hard to remember him not being angry.

And then Mum gets sick. Really sick. Uncle Scrooge visits her now, quite a lot actually, but he doesn’t want to talk to you or Dad anymore and he’s mean when you try. Dad says he’s just worried. You all are. You and Mum and Dad are all kind of sad and scared every day now. But you’re not being mean about it.

(You think you might have sat in his lap once? Wasn’t that his face? But it was a nice soft lap and he’s all bony. Maybe it wasn’t him.)

And then you’re standing in front of a gravestone with Dad’s arm around your shoulders, face wet and chest heaving, and though you know all Mum’s friends much better Uncle Scrooge is the closest, right up front beside you. He’s sobbing too. You can’t breathe properly for what must be years and years. The three of you stay after everyone else leaves. This is your whole entire family now. Today makes it real. Dad’s exhausted, trembling like he could fall over at any moment, so you don’t want to lean on him too hard. You want - you want. You can’t have what you want. But you have an uncle. At least, in theory. There’s something you can want and have: an uncle who acts like one. Because how are you and Dad meant to go on as only two? How can you go on?

Three of you might have a chance. You need more than this. You need help. You need -

Scrooge’s gaze finally moves from the stone. It lands on you. He looks almost as bad as you feel, weeping like an open wound, bent and creased and smaller than he is with sunken eyes and a messy beard. All the anger’s been crushed out of him. He’s nothing but sad and scared and tired. Just like you. His hand twitches toward you and then falls. Does he want to hold you? He used to hug you. You don’t remember what it felt like and it wouldn’t be as good as a Mum hug, but nothing would, and you’ll absolutely take it. You stare at each other for a silent, heavy moment.

Then his eyes freeze over and he turns and walks away.

He never comes to you again. Never writes a letter or sends a gift. You have to come to him if you want him. And somehow you still do, even once Dad doesn’t and when your friends and wife tell you to leave him alone year upon year. Even when he tells you to go to hell for inviting him to lunch. You keep asking, trying, reaching out, faint echoes of laughter in your ears constantly fading. He’s family. That has to mean something. You’re happy now, truly, deeply happy, but he looks exactly the same. It doesn’t seem fair. Mum loved him and he loved her. Surely he can love you. Surely he can change again.

And then, on Christmas morning while you’re preparing the food for your annual party, there’s a knock at the door.

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OH SEAFOAM GREEN FOR MARLEY MY BELOVED

before the morning light...

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That man is going to manwhore his way to redeem Scrooge because it’s the only way he’ll listen.

why does marley keep getting gayer. man keep it together you're trying to save his soul not. not whatever your homosexual ass is doing

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THEYRE SO SHAPED

Two people who matched each other's freak

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I had to. It’s CHRISTMAS EVE!!!