#gonna get so much time back for art and other things I love

[sunny-knight]

What Kind Of Monster Was He?

A @forgettable-au fan (colored) animatic

MINOR BLOOD WARNING!

*Was he the kind to do too much, or not enough?

…OK, SO WHAT HAD HAPPENED WAS-

I had planned to finish this into a full fledged animation, but a lot of the parts I did end up finishing just didnt live up to what I imagined…I waited for more motivation to happen, but it just didnt so HERES THE COLORED ANIMATIC CAUSE IM REALLLY HAPPY WITH WHAT I HAVE and ive sat on posting this for like a 2 weeks 😭 which is an eternity in my time

Im gonna post the unfinished “finished” part on my side account @o-sunny-day though! and probably have people yell at me cause it actually isnt that bad AND IT TOTALLY ISNT I just… art. You get it. ENOUGH YAPPING! ITS TIME TO YAP!

except not yet, MORE BACKGROUND INFO HUCDHUC- but its background info on explaining the lore…

The explaining is much less expansive than in Dear My Dear just because I didnt work on it long enough to think every bit of it through. This is just a clean, nicer looking, and colored version of the very first storyboard.

I usually think about and put more effort into the little stuff while making the FINISHED bits since ive had so much more time to think about that in all the preppin n sketching.

BUT I liked the explaining format I did for Dear My Dear so im sticking with it!

The main idea for this was to do a study of Wingdings’ character from what we’ve been given, mainly focusing in on the expectations he puts on himself because holy shit the lyrics for this works so stupidly well it makes me mad LOOK AT THIS???

its ridiculous. i love it. I didnt know Jack Stauber helped write Forgettable AU???? woww!!! ANYWHO thats the gist of it, not much context is needed past that. Onto the sillies!!!! (per usual excuse the shitty quality of the pngs idk why Tumblr does that-)

Did you know love? Will you rest in peace?

Wingdings and Sans holding hands as kids, before turning to a casket like appearance for adult WD. The flowers hes holding are pretty important too, Marigolds to represent grief, Lilys, new life, and Forget Me Nots for this lovely little line I found when looking up good flowers to use-

“a promise to always remember” ….stop that.

That actually also has a double meaning in this case too. 1, ofc the forgetting of Wingdings. But ALSO Wingdings forgetting something himself. Forgetting who he is. Almost like a Zuko ATLA situation.

Did you have a family?

Who knows where theyre parents are, but this is HAPPY TIME and we’re gonna assume they were so awesome and very kind but had to leave or went to a farm in the sky for whatever reason.

The colors here I had a lot of fun with. Their parents had warm colors but the boys have cold, still with warm accents. Its said they more or less raised each other being very independent as shown in the second part with them running out the door by themselves.

How was the view from the shelf? Did you ever believe in yourself?

Before, we started with the beginnings. The good things, the only thing Wingdings cares to even recall. Now we’re seeing his life really start to turn upside down- making first contact with The Player :D

He’s hesitant to reach out, but is intrigued, before getting a rushing revelation of his reality and how it isnt “real”

Rather than feeling crushing existential dread, he more feels pressured to be BETTER, to figure a solution, to do something. Thats what white represents here

WHAT KIND OF MILK WERE YOU?

We then switch to more examples of how Wingdings is taking this pressure (not well) The soft tones of yellow that were shown before, turn to way brighter, intensifying that feeling that he should be fine, he should be happy, drowning in success of being the Royal Scientist.

But he just desperately wants to just go back to a time of nice coldness.

The warm vs cold tones in this I had so much fun with, coldness is supposed to represent hostility usually, while warm is nice and happy. (same with Black and white. Scary, relieving,) But these points often contradict each other, its hard to tell what you’re feeling vs what you’re supposed to be feeling. Just like Wingdings!

WHAT KIND OF LIFE DID YOU LIVE THROUGH?

The white lab coats, the expectations, theyre on all of them. But Wingdings has essentially become his expectations.

He questions what life he wants to live, one being himself and alone (speaking in wingdings) or not himself and with company (speaking in a “normal” font) Still, he frames it in past tense as he believes theres no going back now, based on what he knows.

“One of the last happy moments they had together” stop that. (i cant find a link to when that was said but I know it was once, about them taking a photo together….)

DID YOUR LIFE RUN RICH WITH CALCIUM?

Calcium….bonesss :3 Hehehehdhehfhehehheheheh still dont know why he has holes in his hands so we’re movin on

DID THEY LAUGH AT YOU OR DID YOU LAUGH AT THEM?

Compared to the childhood Wingdings remembered, heres the sadder, bleaker, more realistic version. He always thought they were laughing at him but… maybe they werent.

DAIRY BELOVED. YOUR DAYS ARE GONE,

It doesnt matter now though. Because in the NOW, Wingdings has become consumed by his expectations of himself, seeing this has the “only option” to do the only thing that he feels will give his life meaning and purpose, establishing connection with THE PLAYER

But the grocery list goes on…

And yet life continues on without him, and his room is transformed into a more livable space now that someone is…living in it. Always hurts so much making the differences between Wingdings and Papyrus’ room. It feels like making something out of the man Wingdings COULD HAVE been. Because honestly thats just what Papyrus is,

Thank you to my bestie @fruitytrip for helping me with all of my art in general but especially the storyboarding on this :3 <3

[sccrim]

ILLUSION CLUB !

warnings : ( stripper / stripping , touching )

this was a fic i was gonna start for him but ended up not liking it so this is what was supposed to be the first chapter ahahha

"right this way mr. kakashi." a woman smiled making sure kakashi went to his table. everyone in the club knew who he was. they all knew he always had to sit in vip with a clear view of the stage. "so many new women." might guy smiled deeply eyeing all the lady's in there.

this place was like candy to them. every other night they always went to relax after long days of work. kakashi only went to this specific club for the only woman he loved to see. he admired your body like art. made sure he memorized every single detail about your body figure, face, hair.

"your admirer is here for you." your friend laughed placing her dark red lipstick on her lips. "yeah and he bought his friends." you smiled lifting your boobs. "good thing i wore my new heels." your friend blew a kiss while walking out to the floor. "hope you get lucky tonight."

"tell n/n i'll be in the private room." kakashi fixed his suit and took a sip of his whiskey. he walked across the floor to the private room waiting for you to walk in. he missed you. missed your body moving side to side in his hands. missing the feeling of tracing your body while she dancing on him. he wanted you, no actually he needed you.

"back for more mr. kakashi." you smiled walking toward his seat. "you could say that." he spoke softly. "you know you're making the others jealous." you grabbed his arms and placed it on your hips. "is that so?" he slightly bit his bottom lip looking at you sway your hips. "you can't always have me to yourself. i have to make money some how right?"

kakashi grabbed a stack of hundreds and threw it on the table. "bend over." he demanded. you smiled bending down placing your hands to your ankles looking back at kakashi. "everyone knows when i walk in here you're all mine. they have a problem they can speak to me." he placed his cigar down. putting his right hand on your ass. "ah, there's where you're wrong hatake." you turned your body to him and sat on his right leg.

"i'm not yours." you whispered in his ear. "is that so?" his hand placement now on her lower back. "strip." he threw another stack on the table. "is that how we treat woman now?" you slipped your bra off. "please baby." he soft spoke blowing out a bit of the smoke. something about you put him in a trace. he was the only man you would strip for. one, the money was good. two, you had actually liked kakashi.

the first time he laid eyes on you on that stage he just had to have you and only you. so many women trying to dance for kakashi but he just couldn't deal with them. you were the only one he requested and it had to be you. if you weren’t there then he wouldn't show up. he only had money for you. everyone in the club knew not to mess with you when he was there.

"can i touch you?" you nodded as you sat directly on his lap. kakashi placed his left hand on your inner thigh and his right hand on your throat. you leaned your head back in pleasure as he kissed your neck. this wasn't out of the ordinary. you both liked the feeling of each other. even if kakashi didn't throw stacks out you, you would let him do whatever he wanted to you. he was the only man you would let touch you and feel up.

"times up mr. kakashi." you smiled, getting up placing your outfit back on. "come to my office tomorrow." he spoke as you grabbed his hand making him follow you back to the floor. "and why's that?" you questioned. "you'll see. be there at 8." he whispered in your ear, putting a stack on the side of your hip.

all the girls staring at you guys — jealous of how much you would get just from one man alone. kakashi was a rich man and he didn't care how much he would spend on you. he knew one day he'll have you. it was just a matter of time.

all works belong to @sccrim , do not repost/copy my works. doing so will hold consequences, please refrain from stealing other works work

[2nd2ndalto]

nothing's gonna stop me but divine intervention

Happy new year everyone! Here's the Solangelo sex pollen fic absolutely no one asked for!

Written for @snoelledarts for their birthday. See tags for more info, but this is definitely adult and despite being sex pollen-themed it is very consensual. Oh, AND everyone involved is over 18.

__

Chapter 1

“I can’t believe we’re twenty-two years old and still getting sent on fucking quests,” Nico mutters as they hurry out the service doors behind the Philadelphia Museum of Art. There aren’t any signs of pursuit yet, but that’s no reason to linger.

Will glances over, grinning. Complaints aside, Nico looks awfully pleased with the both of them for having completed this current quest.

“Aw, come on. You love it,” Will teases. “Getting to save the day. Showing off your grown-up shadow travel power-ups.”

Will’s eyes flick to the weapon at Nico’s hip. Nico’s swordplay has gotten better, too, and even hotter, Will thinks. Sure and precise. Devastating. Never mind the muscle that he’s built up in the last few years, the defined lines of his arms and chest. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s grown a couple of inches since they were eighteen.

But none of that matters, because Will’s still trying not to go there – not to sink right back into his teenage crush every single time he sees his friend. Because if that crush was reciprocated, Will would know by now. Besides, Nico’s friendship means so much to him; a comforting constant any time the rest of Will’s life threatens to spin out of control. He’d never do anything to jeopardize that.

When they’d bid each other farewell the August before Will left for college, Will had had a sinking feeling that their friendship would never really be the same. As close as they’d been at Camp, Will understood all too well how circumstances change, how people drift apart.

The reality had been a pleasant surprise, though. There had been visits, right from the start; Nico appearing out of the blue, standing like a shadow outside the health sciences building, a smile lighting up his face when he spotted Will descending the steps. Even then, Will had assumed the visits would taper off eventually as Nico became immersed in his new life. But instead, they’ve only grown closer over the last four years.

Nico’s gotten much more skilled at shadow travel, able to hop huge distances with barely any recovery required, and Will’s made time to accompany Nico on some of his safer Underworld errands, the ones that Nico refers to as recreational. There have been coffee and lunch visits, even Christmas or Thanksgiving with Will’s mom in Austin. Iris messages and phone calls stretching late into the night, Nico’s low laugh in Will’s ear in the dark.

And now a quest, apparently.

“You did pretty well yourself,” Nico says as they stroll down the street. His voice is warm with pride, and it makes Will’s heart swell.

“You’re getting really good with your light magic,” Nico continues, wiggling his fingers vaguely. “The way you zapped that Myrmeke was seriously impressive.”

Will shrugs, his face warming. “I’ve been practicing.”

Nico shoots him a smile so fond that Will feels a very sudden need to change the subject.

“So, let’s see this urn we repatriated,” Will says.

They’re nearly back at the hotel now – one very welcome benefit of carrying out these quests as adults is that there’s no need to sleep rough.

They pause at the edge of the sidewalk and Nico reaches into the pocket of his leather jacket, extracting the burnished gold urn. He hands it to Will.

“Huh.” Will turns the thing over in his hands. It’s small, a perfect fit into the curve of Will’s palm, a pleasing weight to it. He gives it a shake. “And it’s supposed to contain the tooth of a Calydonian boar?”

“It had better,” Nico says, “for all the trouble we went to.”

“We should probably open it and make sure,” Will says. If they somehow grabbed the wrong urn, it’s definitely better to find out now than later.

There’s a thick metal clasp on one side of the urn, and after some prodding and jiggling, it releases with a snap. Will pries the lid open, peering inside. Sure enough, there’s a tooth in there, curved and yellowing.

And then suddenly the world goes pink.

It’s a cloud of dust, or smoke, maybe. It encompasses them both, dense and fragrant. Will sputters, and he can hear Nico coughing. Then, just as quickly, the air clears.

“What the fuck,” Nico gasps. “What was that?” His eyes are wide and there’s kind of a… shimmer all over him. Almost like glitter. Will holds his own hands up in front of his face. There’s the same shimmer on his skin, but even as he’s inspecting it, trying to make sense of it, it fades to nothing.

“I – I don’t know,” Will says. The lingering scent of peonies is still strong in his nose, pulling at something in the depths of his memory that he can’t quite grasp.

“Do you feel okay?” he asks Nico.

“Yeah. Fine, I think.”

“Can I check?” Will holds a hand out to Nico, who obliges immediately, after years of such field assessments. Nico’s hand is warm in Will’s, and his energy is reassuringly Nico, but –

“What is it?” Nico’s gaze flicks over Will’s face, worried.

“It’s – I’m not sure,” Will says. “You feel fine. Your vitals are fine. Everything’s perfect –”

“But?”

“But there’s something… some heightened emotion, maybe?” Will grimaces, reaching out with his vitakinesis for another long moment before dropping Nico’s hand. “Fuck. I can’t quite get a handle on it.”

“Maybe anxiety? Adrenaline?” Nico suggests. “We did just have a fucking magical object blow up in our faces.”

“Yeah,” Will says slowly. “I – I feel like I should know what that was…” He takes another deep inhale. Peony. Something about… flowers. Maybe some class he took a couple of years ago? He just can’t quite put his finger on it. He realizes they’ve been stalled on the sidewalk for several minutes.

“You know what – let’s just go back to the hotel. Let me think about it. I don’t think there’s any immediate danger, though.” Will snaps the clasp on the urn shut again, handing it back to Nico.

They’re both quiet the rest of the way back to the hotel, and as the elevator rises to their floor. Will’s still wracking his brain for what he might ever have learned about glittery, peony-scented smoke.

“I guess I could just shadow travel us back home now,” Nico muses. “We don’t really need to stay in town any longer.”

Will’s heart sinks a little. He makes a noncommittal sound in response. It’s been really nice, spending a few days in a row together, and he’s honestly not in any rush for this trip to draw to a close.

“Or we could take one more day in Philly?” Nico says. “See the sights?” He looks almost embarrassed, not meeting Will’s gaze in the slightest.

“That sounds like fun,” Will says, warm and sure. “Let’s do it.”

Relief seems to encompass Nico’s entire body, his posture relaxing immediately. He unlocks their room and they both pull off their shoes, dropping onto their respective beds.

“What should we do tonight?” Nico asks. “You wanna go catch a movie? Or we could see what's on TV, order in.” His face suddenly lights up. “Remember that gardening show I was watching with your mom over Christmas? I wonder when that’s on.” Nico reaches for the remote.

Will laughs. “You thinking of starting a garden?”

Nico wrinkles his nose. “I dunno. Maybe? I’m getting better at not killing plants when I get pissed off. And my apartment in LA has a balcony. I thought I might try to get some things growing out there.”

Will grins. “That’s a great idea. Wait – you’re away a lot though, doing stuff for your dad. Just – plants need water. Like, regularly.”

Nico clears his throat. “Yeah, um. I’m actually planning on cutting back on that soon. The stuff for my dad. I – I was thinking about going to college. Next year.” Nico goes tense and still when he says this, and Will’s abruptly aware that he’s probably been anxiously waiting for the right moment to reveal this bit of information.

“Nico, that’s great,” Will says, sincere.

“Yeah?” Nico finally looks up, shy.

“Yeah,” Will beams. Impulsive, he jumps up, darts over to Nico’s bed and wraps his friend in a hug. The angle is awkward, and maybe the whole gesture was a little abrupt, but Nico laughs into Will’s chest and returns the embrace.

“Thanks,” Nico says, softer. “I was hoping you’d think so.”

Nico feels as if he’s radiating heat and gods, he smells so good. Will pulls back, a hand still lingering on Nico’s shoulder. “Of course I do, Nico that’s –”

Oh. Oh shit.

“Will?” Nico’s immediately on alert. Which is fair, honestly, because Will’s gone completely silent, mouth agape, eyes fixed on the hand still resting on his friend. His friend. Fuck.

“It’s – um.” Will pulls his hand away. Is it harder than it should be? To move away? Or is he just imagining things? He suddenly feels weak-kneed, Shaky. Will backs up, lowers himself to the edge of his bed.

“Will? What’s wrong?” Nico’s up now, inches from Will’s face. He reaches out a hand to touch Will’s cheek, then makes a soft noise of surprise, pulling it back. He looks at his hand in confusion.

“Shit,” says Will. “Shit. The urn. The – smoke. That came out of it.” Will’s heart is racing, his pulse fluttering in his throat.

“Yeah? What about it?” Nico looks seriously worried now, but also… really fucking hot.

Will squeezes his eyes shut, then scrubs at them. He squints at Nico. Nico’s always hot, right? Will knows that, down to his soul. So how could it really be that now, suddenly, he’s about eight million times hotter?

Nico’s in the same leather jacket and jeans as earlier but now – every detail feels like a slap to the face – how the buttery leather would feel in Will’s gripped hand, the open line of it against Nico’s shirt, the pale of his throat fighting against the dark cut of the material. Will’s never wanted to get his hands on something – someone – more in his entire life.

Oh fuck, this is going to be so inconvenient.

There’s a tingling sort of sensation originating somewhere in Will’s chest and racing out to his fingers and toes. It feels like…buzzing? Vibrating? He holds up his hands in front of his face. They look normal enough.

“Will?” Nico’s voice is urgent. He sits next to Will, lays a hand on his knee.

Will nearly jumps out of his skin.

“Shit.” Nico pulls his hand back like he’s been burned. “Solace, you have about three seconds to tell me what’s wrong or I’m shadow-travelling us right back to New Rome,” he says, shaky. “What was the stuff that came out of the urn?”

“Okay.” Will glances at Nico, then away again. “I didn’t realize right away, but then I remembered because you were talking about gardening, and –” he shakes his head. “There’s this plant, related to peonies, and it has these – these spores.” Will stops. Swallows.

“Spores?”

Nico’s eyes are wide, pupils huge, Will realizes. And clearly Nico hasn’t quite made sense of the effects of it yet, but he absolutely will, and soon.

“Like – pollen,” Will says, hoarse. “It’s not – it’s not fatal. We’re not in danger, exactly, but…”

Gods, he doesn’t want to come right out and say it. Maybe – maybe if he just ignores it – but he’s sweating now, and he can feel himself flushing, not just his face, but his neck and his chest –

“We’re not in danger exactly?” Nico’s voice squeaks a little, and gods only know how that’s attractive, but Will suddenly needs to kiss him more than he’s ever wanted to kiss anyone. He closes his eyes, grits his teeth, fighting an overwhelming urge to turn, take Nico’s face in his hands, press their mouths together, feel Nico’s hot breath on his face, hear him gasp against Will’s skin –

“Will?” Nico says, thin. What kind of spores? Can you fix it? What do we need to do?”

“The spores, they’re like gametes. But – heightened. And they’re – interspecies,” Will stammers.

Nico gazes at him, intent. “I don’t know what any of that means.”

Will takes a deep breath. “More colloquially, it’s known as… sex pollen.”

__

Many, many thanks to @rosyredlipstick for the beta!

[pendinghope]

Okay so I don’t have anything nearly as in depth to say but I do have some thoughts. This is more in general fandomness not just queer related media. So some context: This isn’t my art account but I do make fanart and societal views of the media greatly affect what I may end up posting. I recently became a fan of a kpop band and drew one of the band members. I was scared to post it cause of so many what-ifs and the fact that it didn’t get it to look quite right. But that’s beside the point. Anyway, when I went to talk to friends about if I should post it one of them pointed out some things I had never thought about. So kpop, anime, and other media doesn’t have a good reputation where I’m from though anime has become more accepted. My friend said “So you know how a group of women isn’t evil. But then when a group of women like something it’s given a bad reputation?” Something along those lines but they said it better than I could put into words. And I feel like this has to do with the “only straight women like this media”. It’s mysogenistic. And also just incorrect in the grand scheme of things. So many people like a variety of things but when certain groups of people like something people will attack it just using the basis “well these people like it so it must not be good”. Which, is just so odd. Why would a group of people liking something somehow affect the quality of media? Like I’m sure it would have some influence but not in the way that is used in such an argument. I want to go on more but honestly can’t figure out how to go on so pls add to this. (Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense, I’m not quite sure how to properly express my thoughts)

Now onto a different topic. So I’m a fan of very niche things and highly enjoy my corny cheesey little shows. Some of which I would recommend to my friends until they called one of my shows cringe. Which, okay if it isn’t your thing I completely understand. But it’s a show I’ve expressed that I loved and even recommended. Now if you want to call my show anything call it corny, cheesey, goofy, cause it is. It’s overly dramatic yeah but that’s its vibe. Cringe is so overused and just saying stuff like this made me more wary about what shows I offer people and avoid shows that maybe they would actually like. If you’re going to criticize something, don’t just use negative words. Call it what it is. If it’s cheesey or over dramatic maybe it won’t have that gritty plot line you’re looking for but it’s not supposed to have that. It’s supposed to be a lil goofy, it’s supposed to be fun. Yeah it’s ‘unrealistic’ but the characters have super powers so it was never meant to be. Hell even if they didn’t have powers sitcoms exist for a reason. (Rak Diao, my love).

Another lil tidbit I wanted to add on was just basic understanding of media. I’ve talked about this before so I’m just gonna copy and paste it but edit it to make sense in this context:

So I find I don’t understand everything. By this I mean I can take one understanding of a piece, look at the piece again and just be like damn how on earth was I so wrong before? It’s why I like giving shows a second chance. Cause I might of completely misunderstood what’s happening or maybe I never knew in the first place. It’s just the meaning I took at that time and now I’ll learn something else from it. Like something I might misremember or have a bad impression of I’ll go back and recheck and be like, yeah no I was so wrong. This is great! And vice versa, I’ll be like man this is so good, rewatch and notice things that are a bit iffy. And just go hmmmmm. Just enjoy what you enjoy and don’t be afraid to try things again or let things go. Also, a lot of things fly over my head in shows cause I’m not aware or conscious of everything and I don’t know all the experiences or relevant ties things may have so it’s always good to double check or get a second pair of eyes. (See I read an entire book thinking the main character was a boy. It wasn’t until literal years later I found out the main character was a girl. Did this change much of anything? Not really. But it’s an example and I still thought the fairy and main character were going to end up dating. Alas they did not.)

I hope some of this made sense. T^T

Putting my thoughts out here is terrifying, cause of again all those what-ifs. Anyway, I don’t know how to uh end my lil spiel so yeah. (￣▽￣;)

a question for QL fandom at large: when did we start only wanting media that is perfectly suited to our standards?

there has never been a perfect show, and there never will be a perfect show, because everybody likes different things and QL is run on shoestring budgets. i thought this was something we made our peace with as viewers of the genre!

so i'm just wondering at what point fandom decided that a show is only worthy of praise/fandom if it has no problems?

at what point did we decide that talking about the problems of a show is more important than talking about what we did enjoy and what kept us watching? i don't know when it happened, but it definitely has. critique is treated more seriously and gets more interaction than people talking about what they like.

it seems like a really exhausting and slightly puritan way to do things, to be constantly finding imperfections and treating them as more important than the good parts. dunno about y'all but i don't want to be unintentionally enacting puritan shit.

i want joy, i want fun, i want the spirit of camaraderie in fandom.

so, why did fandom begin to snub any media that didn't fit very high standards? and how can we steer ourselves away from that impulse?

(i am genuinely curious about why this is happening and how those of us who don't enjoy it can change, so please feel free to jump in, even if you are 'late' or think you only have a very small contribution to make to the discussion.)

[charbies]

quit my inpatient job yesterday, finally out of the trenches

[egophiliac]

buckle up lads we're going BACK INTO THE BOOK

[bacchuschucklefuck]

[sysig]

A hero is only as good as his weapons, so make ‘em count (Patreon)

[yellowflowerzzz]

im very much a beginner at sewing BUT i do think this turned out pretty charming despite all the flaws!!

[corntort]

just read viscera objectica T_T

[telesodalite]

I've got like 5+ other creative projects i want/need to do, but holiday cookies gotta be made, lol. Started with almond cloud cookies <3

Ft. A lump of soon to be choc chip cookies

[kellystar321]

.

[fxckinemo]

considering telling my drawing teacher that he's the reason i can't draw for fun anymore

[itsalwaysdark]

caught myself being nostalgic for that damn podcast again. we need to kill connor !

[teaboot]

This is gonna sound rather conceited but I feel like it highlights an issue we have in Art.

I'm good at art. I've never had a hard time making art. I started using crayons before I could walk. Painting, Beadwork, sculpture, sketching, stippling, whatever- once I have a feel for the material, it doesn't take long to start doing what I want with it. It's been a common theme my whole life.

(Y contrast I'm awful at things like dancing, performance, sports, etc- in all things there is balance, right?)

Now, I've taught myself to use so many artistic mediums now that I KNOW how to most efficiently integrate them into the brain database. Once you really *understand* a material, it's much like memorizing the layout of your house, or flexing a muscle, or something in-between- it becomes PART of your brain in a way I cant quite articulate. But to get there involves just fucking around for a bit doing nothing in particular.

And I've found, especially in group settings, that nobody seems to be able to see you make something badly and leave you alone. Even if you say you're fine, you don't want help, you're happy, you're having fun, it's fine, they gotta ride your ass and hover.

I was at a class the other day for something I hadn't done before. The medium was one I've never used, so once the instructor told us the basics I started experimenting with weight, gravity, texture, viscosity, saturation, temperature, etc. The instructor had given enough info to know what was dangerous and what was safe, and beyond that I just wanted to absorb what I could about it.

And no insult to the instructor, but they kept checking in. Which was fine the first few times.

But then, without asking me what I was trying to do, started giving tips. That I told them I was grateful for but didn't really need just yet. If I had a question, I'd ask.

But they kept coming over. And touching my shit. And manipulating my project. And touching my hands. And using my tools. Without fucking asking.

And this happens every time. EVERY TIME. And by now I know the best way to get them to fuck off is to make something way beyond their expectations so they know I'm capable, then go back to doing what I want.

So I did. I wanted to keep having fun and learning, but instead I made something beautiful that I really didn't want to make, and wasted my time, and really didn't learn what I wanted to learn at all. I knew the formula to create a beautiful thing, so I followed that formula the same way I have a hundred times before, and didn't get to try anything spontaneous or ugly or exciting, just so I could be left alone.

And I know when I was a kid, I was aware aware people saw me puttering alone on something ugly assumed I had a special issue and treated me like I was stupid because of that. (I was neurodivergent.) And at at time I knew that I could do a neat trick for them like a trained pony and they'd go, "Oh, surely they aren't defective if they can do something like that!" And piss off.

But what if I hadn't known how to do that?

What if I hadn't been talented, or "special"?

What if I'd been just any other average kid trying to learn, and I couldn't pop something pretty out of my ass to get them off my back?

My problem my whole life has been that I haven't been allowed to make anything ugly in peace. I'm capable of beauty, so I have to make beauty, or get stepped on. And once people see what I can do, they get loud about it. "Look at this! Look what they did! We all know who the best is, don't we?". And that used to feel good, but it's tiring.

And how many people like me just wanted to play? Just wanted to have fun and experiment? Who were having fun with no goal in mind, or just took longer to learn, who gave up because of all the obnoxious helpers breathing down their neck with no way to shake them off?

How many of us are made to feel defective because we aren't doing things beautifully?

I have a lovely piece of art I didn't want to make.

I think I'm gonna frame it.*

(*I think I'm gonna burn it in my yard.)

[neverendingford]

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