Thank you so much to everyone who commissioned an icon this year! I really appreciate your patronage, this was such a fun batch to draw. I’m taking a break from commissions while I focus on school stuff for a while, but should be back open for business in late November! Hope everyone had a very spooky Halloween 🎃✨
to the people who sent requests that i haven’t done yet: i got back from camping earlier than expected, but there’s gonna be a local festival held on the next three days. i have no idea when i’ll get around to requests
There isn’t any real resources. And we don’t know where the money goes.
Let me preface this with a few things.
1) I am queer myself. (Asexual)
2) As that is just one aspect of my identity, I don’t deliberately follow a lot of queer blogs, but just due to how things work I follow a lot of people who are, themselves, queer.
And during this entire month, I have just seen stuff with “YAY, you’re awesome!”
I don’t see ANYTHING on “Look, LGBT+ have a higher rate of alcoholism/drug addiction/ homelessness/ are abused/etc. Here are resources to either find help or to get you out of bad situations before they start.”
And that’s not to say they aren’t OUT there. I’m sure they are. But that stuff doesn’t come up much. And during pride month - when we should be MORE open to talking about it - I should have seen something.
And all the businesses that slap the rainbow sign on everything (Notice how it’s usually JUST the rainbow?) Where does that money go? Does it help AIDS survivors? Halfway houses for LGBT kids? Provide legal or job training? Or does it just go to company profits.
During June, where is the other discussions we need to have. Where are the support for things that need it. Why are people not critiquing businesses here but are in other (very important, don’t get me wrong) cases.
I should earn a business degree and open a gay coffee shop w gay magazines and art (classical and pop) all over the goddamn place and all the drinks will be fucking puns and all kinds of music will play from smooth jazz to Tegan and Sara to BTS and I’ll have baristas that have lots of tattoos and piercings and crazy colored hair and it’ll be open until midnight on Thursdays and there’ll be karaoke and drag queens and it’ll be beautiful
I wish I could reply to everyone that’s messaged me or sent me an ask right now, but it’s a little overwhelming so I’m putting it off a wee bit! I will get to you guys eventually, I promise.
I just wanted to say that I am OKAY and not dead or wasting away in a gutter somewhere. I feel awful that I haven’t updated my fics in so long and I’m going to try and organize myself to get back on track!
More updates: I quit my job. I have a new one. It should be busy, also (I’m still a chef) but my hope is that it will leave me more happy and fulfilled. I like the people there, and I’m more in-charge (I’m the highest ranking person in this city, my boss is in another city). I think it’s a good move for me and I’m so excited to stop being miserable!
To everyone who’s reached out: Thank you, and I’m sorry I haven’t replied. I literally just haven’t been on tumblr at all since my last post, between the hectic nature of my old job and the whirlwind of getting this new one (I got the offer, put in my notice, and I was whisked away to New York city to train for a few weeks so I can open the new kitchen here in D. C.), I just haven’t had the time to really do much of anything but focus on what was happening right in front of me.
I love you all so much. It should be a busy couple of months ahead as I open this kitchen up, but I’m in a much happier place and I anticipate returning to my writing soon.
Thank you, everyone, for thinking of me, and I’m sorry for giving you all such a scare. <3
I deliver pizzas. I was making a delivery to a regular customer in a building that I have been at a few dozen times. Everything was going smoothly; he buzzed me up, I gave him his order, and I left. He lives on the fourth floor, so I always take the stairs because it is quicker.
The building has two stairwells that lead from the lobby to every other floor above it, and a separate stairwell that leads to the basements and parking garage below the lobby. So, looking at the elevators you see a hallway to your left and a hallway to your right. In both hallways there are two doors that lead to stairwells and a bunch of other doors that lead elsewhere. There is one door leads to the “up” stairwell and the other to the “down” stairwell. There are also a few miscellaneous things like fire extinguishers, hanging exit signs, and plants. The hallway has a deep green floor, puke green walls, and a cream coloured ceiling.
Now, I gave him the pizza, took the money, and made my way to the stairwell.
I had this weird feeling. You know the one? The one that everybody talks about when something is about to happen? The kind where you feel a squeezing in your stomach and a heat on the back of your neck.
I made my way down the stairwell and the feeling increased. I quickly ended up at the very bottom. All that separated me from the hallway leading to the lobby was the door. I felt as if I should not open it, but I was busy so I pushed the feeling aside and stepped into the hallway.
The first thing I felt was confusion. The hallway was completely different from the one I was expecting. It was entirely white. Spotless, as if someone had just cleaned it. I remember it looked very smooth. Gone were the objects and doors, except for two doors on either end of the hallway. I started walking to one of the doors, but stopped. Something inside me told me I was in a very wrong place. For some reason my brain translated that into “hey, dummy, you’re in the basement."
So I went back through the door and started heading up the stairs when I realized that the basement had a separate entrance from the lobby. I went back down and looked back and forth. The hallway was still completely different and I saw no way to get to the lobby.
At this point I got really scared. Really scared. I am not a person who gets scared over something like that as I tend to be levelheaded and calm, but I was terrified. I sprinted up the stairs onto the second floor and took the elevator down, exiting into the lobby.
I have had many more deliveries to that building and that customer, but I never experienced such an odd thing again. I have even taken the down stairs and they lead to a normal basement.
The thing is, the set of stairs I use connect to every floor and the lobby, but they end at the lobby. There was no way for me to take a wrong turn since the very bottom of the stairs lead to the lobby (in both of the stairwells). If I wanted to access the basement I would need to go through a door into a hallway that intersects the lobby and then into another door for the "down” stairs.
So I walked out at the very last floor and ended up somewhere other than the hallway intersecting the lobby. The stairwells may seem complicated from my description, but they are simple to navigate.
The Shoe Story- Glitch in Costa Rica
I live in a tiny town in Costa Rica where basically every weekend is the same, except for this one. Me and my friends Katie, Michael and Lacey were doing what we do every Saturday night: pre-drinking at someone’s house, buying more alcohol at the liquor store, and then going out. There are only like 3 clubs where I live and they’re all more like local bars so we never really dress up nicely to go out, but for some reason Lacey decided to wear a dress and some heels that night.
We were all sober at this point and decided to go to the liquor store to get some booze. To reach the liquor store you have to go down a few stairs that are next to the sidewalk, walk through a short hallway and you’re there. As we were going down the stairs, Lacey’s heel snapped and the pointy part broke off. Of course being the girly girl that she is, she got a little upset, but proceeded to take her heels off and hold them in one hand as we all walked into the liquor store.
Note that this is the same liquor store we go to every single weekend, and sometimes even during the week. We went in, and the usual guy, José, was behind the cash register. I don’t remember why the heck I thought this was a normal thing to do, but I walked up to him and asked him “Hey José, do you know where my friend can fix her shoe?"
He looked at me, smiled, and said "Yes, follow me." He took us to the back of the tiny ass liquor store, which was literally like 8 steps away from the front, and opened a door located on the left side of the store next to a booze filled fridge. Inside, and I’m not shitting you, was a man in his 40′s sitting on a chair surrounded by a bunch of shoes, fixing shoes. We thought it was a little odd but didn’t overthink it, my friend handed him the heel and he glued it and fixed it. We laughed it off, bought our booze, thanked José and left the store.
Around a week and a half later I went back and the place looked… different. Smaller, if that was even possible. I said hi to José, went to get a drink at the back of the room and realized that the door was gone. I looked at it from every single angle. There was no sign that there had once been a door there. I went outside and looked at the building and there was literally no space for a room where the room should have been.
I went back inside and asked José about the room, and where the guy who fixed the heel was. He literally looked at me like I was crazy and just said "I have no idea what you’re talking about”. But I’m not crazy, my friends who where there with me remember this just as clearly and are just as confused as I am.
Predictions in the Outfield
I play college baseball and play outfield. One night I had a dream I was in right field and it was just a brief one of me playing the position.
During the dream I remember looking to my left and seeing people sitting on the hillside watching the game and a kid playing near them. Then looking into the batter and watching the batter hit a ball to my left side. I run to catch it and the ball drops just in front of me and I miss it.
Just recently I was in the middle of playing a game, and was playing right field. Throughout the game nothing out of the ordinary happened, had a couple balls hit to me. But then I hear a fan yell at the current batter. I look to my left and find the same fans I had seen in my dream. I immediately have a deja vu moment and brush it off.
But then as I look again I see a kid playing on the hillside in a similar manner from my dream. I start freaking out to myself thinking everything is exactly how I dreamed it and deja vu is kicking in.
I then remembered during this of the ball hit to me that I missed. So before the next pitch I move to my left just where I think it will be hit. Just as I had dreamed, the ball is hit hard down the line and instead of playing the position normally where I would have missed it, I’m placed right in front of the ball to make the catch.
I know deja vu moments happen often during common occurrences and daily activities, but this appeared too isolated of an incident and I just had to post it.
A Photo Appeared By Itself, But I Live Alone
About 2 months ago a friend was staying with me. And it was just us. I woke up one morning and went downstairs, got breakfast, etc. But when I came back to my room to get dressed for the day, there was a photo on my nightstand. It was about 2 (inches) by 4 (inches). It was also creased down the middle as if it was folded, but then unfolded almost as an after-thought. It was on the backside when I found it, and read “Dear Aunt Debbie, Merry Christmas!” - From, Jen, Ryan and the whole family, 1992. Debbie is my mom. She doesn’t really keep in touch with them, though.
It said this in cursive. When I turned it over it was a photo of my two older cousins - one is 14 years older than I and the other 12 years older. Jen and Ryan (siblings) and we haven’t spoken in ages, not because anything happened but merely because we drifted apart.
I had a bad feeling something may have happened to them. Texts weren’t going through, and when I called it went into voicemail. Eventually I found out they were both fine, but it weirded me out. I asked my friend but she told me A) She did not put them there, and wasn’t in my room B) She would have no reason to and doesn’t know my cousins and C) I must have simply put it there then forgot. So basically, she swore up and down that she didn’t put it there.
I should probably mention 3 huge boxes of family photos are stacked and located directly next to my bed, they touch the bedposts. But they are shut, latched, and have clothing sitting on top. I wonder, if I had set up a camera in my room, what I would have seen.
Hey bae, can you do a teen wolf one shot where the reader is the youngest out of Derek’s pack and everyone calls her “Derek’s Little Girl/Boy” because he constantly babies the reader so the one time he/she wants to hang out with friends when everything is dangerous he of course says no. The reader rebels and goes out anyways only to be caught by Derek at the place? Maybe he grounds the kid(perhaps the reader was an orphan before he took them in) and drags the reader out of the place? ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
(Hope you like it!)
There was chatter and I opened the door of my bedroom ever so slightly. There was chatter of everyone who was something supernatural. Without making too much noise, I opened the door fully and walked to where the party was. Being silent, I listened to everyone talk about whatever the problem out was. In this case; everything. Nobody was paying attention to me watching. Until Derek looked over and saw me. I smiled at him and he smiled back. Scott, noticing that Derek was randomly smiling, looked at me. I nodded in greeting.
“Well, if isn’t Derek’s kid.” Peter commented. I rolled my eyes and walked down towards the sofa where Derek was standing. I was comfortable around all the others, but I preferred standing with Derek.
What’s the story with me and Derek? Our parents were family friends. We both lost our parents so Derek took me in. He’s been taking care of me ever since I was a kid. But I’m only a teenager, so everyone calls me his “kid” since he pretty much baby’s me. However, I can count on him. Especially since I got powers of my own as an elemental.
“I’m not his kid, Peter.” I told Derek’s uncle. He simply rolled his eyes. Derek put an arm around my shoulders an everyone carried on talking.
As soon as everyone left, I sat on the sofa with Derek. He was leaning forwards looking at the table that was covered with papers. I tapped his shoulders and he looked at me with a tired expression.
“Derek, would you be okay with me hanging out with some friends tomorrow night?” I asked him.
“No, (Y/N). We’ve been over this.” He told me. I sighed.
“Please.” I lay my head on his shoulder. “It’s the one time I get to hang out with them. Please!”
“With everything that’s going on, I don’t want anything happening to you.” He told me. I groaned annoyed and sat back.
“Fine. No point in trying I persuade you.” I stood up and walked to my bedroom. Slamming the door shut, I fell onto my bed.
~The Next Day~
After school, I walked out the building to see my friends who had gotten out before me. Thankfully, Derek wasn’t around to pick me up.
“I’ll see you guys later.” I told them.
“See you later (Y/N).” They smiled before leaving. As I walked to the parking lot, Derek pulled up. With a smile, I opened the door and got in the passenger side.
“What’re you happy about?” He asked as I fastened my seatbelt.
“Why do you have to question my happiness?” I questioned. He rolled his eyes and pulled out the school parking lot.
“Do you have a lot of homework?”
“Yeah, so I’ll probably be in my room all night.” I shrugged my shoulders. My phone beeped in my jacket pocket and I pulled it out to see it was a text from my friend Luke. Smiling, I replied and told him I would meet everyone later.
“Okay, just as long as I know where you are.” He told me. I nodded and let him drive me back.
After doing my homework, I checked the time. It was only five thirty which meant I should be leaving. Opening the door slightly, I saw that Derek was busy doing whatever. Closing the door, I took a deep breath. This was the first time I’d be sneaking out. And I couldn’t even go through the front door! I have to go through the window!
Once my bedroom window was open, I looked down at the ground. For some reason, Derek chose to have the highest floor. Maybe I should sneak out the front door. It’d be a lot safer.
As soon as Derek was distracted, I ran to the front door with my bag and slipped out. Feeling relieved that he didn’t notice I left the building and headed for town.
Taking a sip of my lemonade, I listened to my friends who were going on about school and stuff. Sure, I was feeling bad about disobeying Derek, but sometimes I need to get away from him and be a normal kid. One that doesn’t live with the supernatural world crashing in.
“Hey (Y/N).” I froze at the voice. Derek. He found me.
My friends turned to see Derek and looked at me.
“Sorry guys.” I told them.
“(Y/N), you’re coming home. Now.” Derek looked at me with serious eyes.
“Derek, please.” I whispered.
“Now.” He said firmly. I looked at my friends.
“See you in school.” I sighed before walking off with Derek to his car. “Scent?”
“Yes.” He replied coldly. Without another word, he got into his car and I copied. There was silence as he drove us back. I kept glancing at him to see if his expression changed from being so solemn. Instead it was static. As soon as we reached the building, I got out the car and followed Derek in. He was ahead of me and I looked at me feet, ashamed.
“Derek?” I asked when we were inside the loft looking up at him. “I’m sorry. I know sneaking out was wrong.”
“But you still did it.” He snapped. I flinched and looked down.
“Derek, I’m not a kid. I just wanted to be… Normal. Have some normal friends, you know?”
“(Y/N), I promised to look after you when your parents died. I’m going to keep that promise. But I can’t do it if you’re not where I can sense you.” He told me. I nodded.
“It won’t happen again.” I assured him.
“Good. By the way, you’re grounded.” He turned to walk away.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re grounded because you disobeyed me.” He explained. I sighed.
“Fine. It’s fair I guess.”
Derek smiled at me and I couldn’t help but smile back. Then he opened his arms and I gave him a quick hug. So maybe being the youngest member of a pack isn’t the greatest thing. But it’s something I have to deal with.
Why “Following Your Dreams” Can Be A Dangerous Path
The year was 2011, and I was enjoying an outdoor college poetry class on the most idyllic of spring days. A playful breeze wafted stray cherry blossoms over the heads of the ten or so students gathered in front of our professor. Distant shouts and cheers could be heard from the lacrosse game taking place across our small, immaculately-groomed liberal arts campus. I sipped my iced caramel latte and brushed a stray blossom from the page of my open textbook, purchased new from the bookstore on campus. Our professor began reading that week’s assigned poem aloud in a soothing tone, then stopped and looked up at us. Some transcendent insight had just occurred to her, and she had to share it with us. “I hope when you all graduate you don’t just take the first job you can get,” she said. The small class remained reverently silent as she continued dispense her wisdom: “Do what you love. The money will follow.”
I heard this same advice and similar approximations several times in my remaining year as an undergraduate student. Another popular saying: “Follow your passions, and you’ll never work a day in your life!” These mentalities wormed their way into my psyche as I prepared for graduation in 2012. Three years later, at age 25, I would like to officially call BS on this often-repeated, yet ultimately damaging, advice.
Fortunately for me, the breezy mottos I learned in college about artistic integrity didn’t seem to jive with my wise, hardworking parents’ advice: “Focus on succeeding in school while you’re there. After graduation, focus on becoming financially independent.” It’s probably pretty obvious which path sounded better to me at the time, an idealistic new liberal arts graduate boasting a double major in two subjects that frequently top the “most useless degree” internet lists. Of course I should hold out for a job I absolutely loved! I needed something that would allow me to be ~creative~. I wasn’t the type of person who could even SURVIVE a soul-crushing corporate 8-5pm job.
Reality soon set in. I might picture myself as someone who should be contributing to *literary* publications and enjoying the schedule flexibility I needed to *create*, but “experience” and “exposure” were not forms of currency accepted by my landlord. I needed to take whatever job I could secure with my new degree, and that happened to be a full-time position as a marketing writer for one of the dreaded soulless corporations.
Looking back three years later, I was actually incredibly fortunate to land a full-time job with benefits so soon after college. But coming from a tiny little pocket of educational and financial privilege, I felt that I had sold out completely. I procrastinated signing up for a 401(k) until my parents all but forced me to because it seemed like one of those “finance things” that I couldn’t possibly address myself because I wasn’t a “math person.” (Yes, I know how unbelievably stupid this sounds.)
Most of my college friends were pursuing MFAs or travelling the world (subsidized by parents, loans, or a combination of both). I was headed to a cubicle churning out ad copy. I viewed their existence through the rosy lens of social media, and seethed with envy as I sat at my desk looking at the beautiful scenery or solitary cup of coffee they were somehow enjoying at 10:30 am on a weekday.
Every day, I left work feeling drained, defeated, and filled with the sinking feeling that I was accomplishing absolutely nothing of value. I was chasing the money instead of “what I loved.” Every day I fantasized about quitting, before remembering the inconvenient reality that my parents were no longer interested in being my financial cushion, and I needed a paycheck to survive. I went back to school for alumni weekend and looked at all of the happy undergraduate students, blissfully unaware of the real life drudgery that awaited them. I sincerely felt that the best days of my life were behind me.
To make myself feel more equal to my peers, I enrolled in an evening Master’s program that it turned out my company would pay for. Of course now I know that this was a wonderful employee benefit, but at the time all I wanted to do was be in graduate school full-time, and I was resentful of the 40-hour work week I needed to put in to make it happen. I loved my courses, but it turns out three-hour writing workshops are less creatively stimulating when I had to drive 45 minutes in post-work rush hour traffic to get there instead of lazily waking up from my mid-afternoon nap and walking across a beautifully manicured lawn. I envied students who took out loans and worked part-time at coffee shops so they had enough time to really hone their written craft. Between grad classes and growing responsibilities at work, I found myself busier than I had ever been in my life (something I wouldn’t have thought possible when I worked myself into a ~finals week frenzy~ in college–AKA lots of Starbucks and all-nighters with friends).
Once graduate school and my second year of employment was in full swing, I no longer had time to compare myself to my peers. Instead, I was waking up every day with a sense of purpose in order to simply complete all of the tasks ahead of me. I began to enjoy the feeling of broadening my horizons at work or tackling school assignments that didn’t interest me at first glance. Instead of worrying about what people would think of my general direction in life, I began to derive enjoyment from another day’s work accomplished. I stopped limiting my actions based on what I felt aligned with my self-identified passions. I got over my fear of numbers and began taking responsibility for my own finances, learning how to save and invest my hard-earned cash.
And this is when I started to change my whole world view. The whole “do what you love and the money will follow” mentality started to seem, quite frankly, like bullshit. Dangerous bullshit. Now, it seems like a kind of “artistic cult” mentality. This sentiment is rampant among certain affluent artsy and educational communities, and can truly and permanently mess up someone’s life. Sure, if you have other means of financial support, go ahead and attend graduate school full-time. But don’t impose your idealistic nonsense on impressionable students. The pressure to “do what you love” at all times is absurd at best and downright irresponsible at worst. I love puppies, but does that really mean I should open up a doggie daycare when I have zero business acumen and no start-up capital?
With the help of summer classes and winter terms, I finished my Master’s degree last year. The degree combined with my professional experience allowed me to get a new, higher-paying and even more intimidatingly corporate position as a technical writer and editor in a scientific field (something that would have absolutely horrified my collegiate self). And guess what? I don’t absolutely love my work. I don’t feel passionate about every report that crosses my desk. But I do love the independence it affords me. I am able to work remotely twice a week, meaning I can be one of those people at a coffee shop at 10:30 am on a weekday. I have enough disposable income to participate in writer’s retreats in beautiful wilderness areas (using paid vacation days, of course)! I can take a personal day to chat about poetry on a lawn while sipping a caramel latte if I so desire. I enjoy playing my instrument for a gig worth few hundred bucks without worrying about how much I really earned after filling my gas tank to get there. I take pride in the fact that I can finish a day’s work having applied my skills, learned something new, and contributed toward my own financial security.
Looking back, I know that I have my smart parents and some circumstantial luck to thank for the fact that I didn’t blindly sign up for a bunch of loans to continue my educational and artistic journey to “follow my passion.” I wish I could visit all of the soon-to-be graduates of yuppie campuses everywhere and tell them that striving for financial independence is not something to look down on. I want each and every one of them to know that they don’t have to feel ashamed of looking for a “real job” that they might not love. It is important to find balance between the skills you enjoy cultivating and a career that will pay the bills. The fact is, even for those who are truly passionate about the work that pays their bills, work will still feel like work sometimes. It won’t always be fun, and you will work lots of days in your life. And that’s a good thing! It is through really working for something that you feel the true satisfaction that comes from reaping the rewards, financial and otherwise.
Julia is a writer and editor living and working in Richmond, Virginia. Follow her on Twitter.
Now that i am not in the band any more, i should open my business up now called Payne Enterprises, i think this would be a good business… i might make billions. Might link in producing some stuff there, Now where do i find a building to invest in and who wants to come work in Payne enterprise, i’m not a terrible boss. i can always have my solo career on the side right?
For the first time in a month my little polka dot gym bag is tagging along to work with me which means I’M GOING BACK TO CROSSFIT TODAY. I seriously have butterflies like it’s my first day all over again!
I was too tired to function last night from the travel so when I got home I showered, ate dinner, was in and out of sleep and read an entire book I downloaded for free( “Bridesmaid Lotto”)off iBooks. It was good obviously but clearly a published fanfic. I know a thing or 22 about fanfics myself.
Can’t believe it’s Friday Eve already! So excited for the weekend to already be here to relax and get things in order for an epic month of May. Speaking of May, I’m so thankful it’s a new month, a re start with CrossFit, and the start of the Whole Life Challenge this weekend. It’s going to be the start of a great summer!
I leave you with a fun fact: I got these boots for 10 dollars at Charlotte Russe in Texas. They are now my summer boots which I plan to pair with dresses and shorts like an Austinite.
Another fun fact: Leann and I really think Kevin should open up a food truck in Austin. A business we could take on the road to Kansas, Texas and Georgia it sounds like a win-win-win to me!