Three Goblin Art
almost home
Peter Solarz
Not today Justin
🪼
Noah Kahan
Kaledo Art
izzy's playlists!
cherry valley forever
oozey mess
#extradirty
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
macklin celebrini has autism
𓃗
tumblr dot com
occasionally subtle
RMH
Cosimo Galluzzi
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Sade Olutola
seen from United States
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seen from Türkiye
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@gavxshep
"Is this meant to be relaxing?” Gavin held a red marker, turning it over in his hand as he stared down at a combination of shaky lines on paper that could very kindly be described as “abstract.” It was tempting to crumple up the attempt and start again, but he’d achieve the same effect. Shaky hands and shitty markers made for terrible drawings.
milosinclair:
“Anyone wanna help me smuggle this couch back to my place? Fuck if I wouldn’t give my left kidney for a sofa like this, would make Netflix and chill so much more comfortable.”
“That couch looks bigger than most of the rooms in this place. Sure it would fit?”
delilah-flowers:
“What are you looking at?” Delilah snapped, glaring at the individual in the room. “It’s rude to stare, did your mama never teach you any manners?” The brunette wasn’t usually this snappy but she had a bee in her bonnet about being dumped at Glendale, as if it was her own fault. Her estranged father was the culprit for the majority of Delilahs troubles– not that her mother would ever admit that. The young woman’s release of emotions often meant unloading them onto strangers in several ways, currently anger was at the forefront of her outburst and she didn’t care who it was directed at.
If he’d been looking at the girl at all, Gavin had been looking through her. He could scarcely remember, his focus a shambles even before he’d been “voluntarily” committed, and he assumed she must be right about the staring. “Apologies,” he offered, barely lifting a hand as if to begin a shrug that never quite happened. “I didn’t realize you were there.” And he hadn’t - Gavin had been certain he was sitting alone before her outburst.
colesohinki:
“This place is gross…” Cole was mostly talking to themselves “It smells like mold and shit.” They whimpered, scratching their arm uncomfortably.
“Shouldn’t they have people for that sort of thing?” Gavin had been leaning against a wall, but the thought that it might be covered in the mold and shit he was certain he could now smell made him stand up straight. “Or am I being too optimistic?”
[Text] I can't even thank you enough for the present! I was also wondering if you might be able to help me fill it? I would love some family photos of us too, and of my mom and Patrick with us when they visit.
[Text] You’re welcome. Thank you so much for mine! Brilliant that we had the same idea, don’t you think? I am happy to help.
Birthday for Riley!
Dear Riley,
Happy Birthday! I wasn’t really sure what to get for you and so I sort of went and got like… everything. I don’t know. So! You have sweets, a mug, a new knit cap, and one of the nurses let me buy a picnic basket.
Meet me at lunchtime at the cafeteria, and we’ll go out and enjoy it?
Lots of love, Sam
Happy birthday, bud!
Thank you, friend! I appreciate the well-wishes.
Text: Can I ask a favor?
[Text] A million years later - do you still need a favor?
@lost-in-harmonygirl
[Text] Yeah, that works for me. Speaking of which, what do you want to do for that?
[Text] I’m concerned too. Maybe I should reply to him and see if he’s okay. If you see him, give him a hug for me okay?
[Text] Our birthday? What I've always said I wanted to do: spend the day with Sam and do absolutely nothing else.
[Text] I always see him, so I'm happy to do that. Have you replied to him? He'd probably love to hear from you.
Celebration!
I wish I had one of those confetti poppers honestly. But it’s my birthday today! It sucks that I have to spend it in here but it’s still neat to turn twenty. Birthdays are already amazing (in my opinion) but the best thing is that I get to share my birthday with my incredible big brother, Riley. I love you so much! I’m so tempted to give you twenty-four birthday hugs.
Happy birthday, my dearest. And I can't decide whether or not to thank you for telling everyone it's my birthday too, so let's skip over that bit and just go with... yes. It is also my birthday. Confirmation of that fact.
Texts || Ram
Sam: He /is/ my therapist. And the treatments are bullshit but no one ever listens to me anyway.
Sam: Yes you are. If you had to tell me you weren't upset, then you probably are.
Riley: I always forget he has actual patients of his own. My apologies. And I know they are... I'm sorry.
Riley: I told you because I know that you usually expect me to be. To be more specific, I'm not angry. So fair enough... I'm upset. But not *at* you, and that was my point.
Texts || Ram
Sam: I don't know. I don't really wanna find out either. And I don't wanna sing either. Not in front of him. Just you.
Sam: .... Yes....
Riley: I imagine he just wants to be sure that your therapist and the treatment you're getting are helping and not hurting. Maybe he'll have ideas?
Riley: Okay. It's... I'm not upset. I'm really not. I promise.
[private] I am sorry, really. But are you feeling better now? I am not compulsive either! I am just liking sex. I like having fun. I like knowing people like what they see, what they get.
Not really.
Private: I don't especially feel like drinking now. That's progress, right? As for better, I don't know. We're currently working on me thinking I deserve good things. Liking sex is healthy. And I'm not just saying that because I like it so much. I suppose it's in feeling like you have to do it to feel whole that it becomes an addiction.
What do you think you'll do when you're out of here? If you aren't performing?
[private] I haven’t even been struggling with withdrawal so the alcoholism thing is crap. But I am sorry you are suffering from it. And the sex thing - I just enjoy it. That is it.
Both. Unless we actually talk about sex, then I am very passionate.
Private: I had one hell of a withdrawal. I’ve come around to realizing that it’s a genuine problem for me. You just sound like someone who likes to drink. I'm surprised I wasn't hit with sex addiction, but I suppose the difference between me and that diagnosis is that I've had a lot of sexual partners, but it's not compulsive. Which might have been too much information about me. Oh well... I'm honest.
Do you miss having other passions?
[private] good work sherlock. Sex addiction and alcoholism. That’s what they say.
I am not…not anymore.
Private: Alcoholism's one of mine too. Welcome to the club, I guess? My best friend's a sex addict. You reminded me of him a bit. Which isn't to say that they're right about your diagnosis. I'm not even sure they're right about his.
Passionate or competitive? Or both?
[private] well actually they thought there was no other way then making me go here since i was destroying their reputation by being a normal person and having fun.
Maybe because i am not really good at being social. i used to be super competitive. people hated that.
Private: Alcoholism or drug addiction or sex addiction... I shouldn't be trying to guess, but that's usually what they've attached to anyone who described what they were doing as being normal and having fun.
I've never been especially competitive, but I like competitive people. It usually means that they're passionate about something.
Texts || Ram
Sam: I freaked out and I ran away which is when I threw up in the hallway... then kept running and I don't know. They haven't put me there yet.
Sam: I think Mr Schue wants to see me but I don't know for sure... What if he yells at me?
Riley: Does Schue yell at people? I'm pretty sure all he ever does is play ukelele and suggest you sing about things. Though I've only gone to see him twice, and one of those times was about getting someone fired.
Riley: ...*did* you hurt yourself, babe?
Texts || Ram
Sam: I don't know. I'm in my room... they threatened me with iso.
Sam: I threw up. And um, there was... a sharp thing...
Riley: They threatened you, but they aren't making you go?
Riley: Did you hurt yourself again?
Riley: I can be there in five minutes.
