#i wanted something a bit less literal
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Wings au, but:
Wings only manifest if you're liminal (they are thought to always exist, but only reveal themselves after an NDE/equivalent liminality trigger)
Wings are only visible to other liminals
Arent really functional so much as a representation of the soul, and not corporeal, just visual. Arent really set in stone either, they can evolve as the character develops, and might start out with strong influence of the triggering event that revealed them.
Can be a wide variety of things that could only be described as wings in the broadest sense
Not really any such thing as secret identities among liminals because of them
Liminality is extremely broad, so it covers most of the league and a small percentage (like 1-2% at most) of the civilian population
Different individuals:
Danny: a shadow void that shows a perfect view of space in the direction you're looking into it (but initially started as nondescript mass of light that matched his transformation rings)
Dani: an aurora, constantly moving and shifting, started out very ecto-green, shifted to more natural aurora colors over time
Batman: a cloak of shadow that occasionally takes the shape of bat wings
Jason: flaming phoenix wings, obviously (shape matches an eagle or condor, have remained pretty consistent, though they started more smoldery and are currently more flamy, flame is green when under effects of pit rage)
Poison ivy: "fairy" wings, actually look like giant leaves/flower petals, always appropriately seasonal
Superman: they look like solar coronal loops of plasma
Valerie: match the vibes of her nanosuit, might even be floaty and detached
Jazz: perfect white angel wings, very floofy (people mistake her for soft, then learn why angels are traditionally feared)
Cass: perfect angel wings, but black and obviously swan shaped
Damian: metallic wings where the feathers are each a blade, have gone from jagged to more sleek after moving in with bruce
Duke: sunbeams that trail like a regal cloak
Selina: has a proper cat tail instead of "wings"
That's all the ideas i had so far. Feel free to add your own for other characters.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#wings au#i wanted something a bit less literal#could lead to some interesting world building
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antoine + étoiles insane moments, p.2. aka the ass saga. p1 here
transcript + context for some of the clips below
[Video Transcript:
[First clip plays.]
Rivenzi: You want to see Etoiles’ ass, of course…
Antoine: Yeah, I’m gonna stare at your ass, Etoiles…
Etoiles: Fuck, what dread, during Popcorn [a talkshow Etoiles had been invited on the previous week], when I went up to the map and you said that, and I thought ‘whoa—‘
Antoine: Sorry
[Second clip plays: the moment during Popcorn]
PA/Domingo: Antoine Daniel has posted a tweet for us: ‘I wanted to look at this map of Africa, but Etoiles’ ass in the shape of a standing bell is driving me crazy. Smiley face with eyes in the shape of hearts.’
[Third clip plays: a continuation of the first clip.]
Antoine: Sorry, bro…
Ponce: Oh but that tweet, besides
Rivenzi: A standing bell…
Antoine: What’s more is that I never tweet and when I do it’s to tweet this sort of shit
Ponce: That’s exactly what I told myself. When PA read the tweet, I thought to myself, ‘but he never tweets!’ And he tweets to talk about Etoiles’ ass
Antoine: There needs to be a good reason, you see
[Fourth clip plays: a clip from the Team du Lundi’s minecraft server.]
JDG: Someone (in chat) said, ‘I can’t tell whether the atmosphere is good tonight or—‘
Antoine: It sucks, it sucks
Florence: You don’t need to ask every time, it always sucks
Baghera: Always sucks. Especially when Etoiles talks about ass [which had been a previous topic of discussion for him that night]
Antoine: Stooop, I enjoy it
Mynthos: You enjoy it?
JDG: It’s true tonight that it’s more weird than bad
Antoine: I like it when Etoiles talks about ass….
[Fifth clip plays: a second and different clip from Popcorn.]
Etoiles: —you’re not allowed to tell me that [Xari claimed to not know much about cinema]. I know you, I studied, because you’re my rival [in pop culture]. I really enjoy what you do in life, Xari, and you’re really knowledgeable about cinema
Antoine: What do you mean he’s your rival? And I’m just shit?
Etoiles: You, you’re my lover
Antoine: Oh yeah, sorry, my bad
PA/Domingo: One of the three is gonna die soon. There’s a whole situation, there’s a whole lore
[Sixth clip plays: a clip from the QSMP.]
Antoine: Don’t you want to get married, dude?
Etoiles: Well, I don’t have the time to fuck
Antoine: What the fuck?!
Etoiles: I don’t have time to fuck, dude. I just need to kill everyone
Antoine: No but just a marriage, you see. You’ve watched Game of Thrones— you haven’t watched Game of Thrones, you can’t know how marriages work in that series
Etoiles: I’ve watched it, but I’m married to the street, dude. I can’t give out my heart that quickly
Antoine: Yeah but you can give out your ass quickly, no?
Etoiles: No, frankly, my ass—
Antoine: What the fuck?!
Etoiles: Giving out your ass takes time, dude
Antoine: What the fuck…
Etoiles: Then again, I need to think about it. I’ll give you my answer. I need to discuss, and everything
Antoine: I’m tired of getting betrayed. You get married with someone else—
Etoiles: Never in a million years!
Antoine: —it’s like yesterday. Apparently Maximus got the mic from his ass removed while I wasn’t there. I was supposed to be the one to do it
Etoiles: Oh okay, so I’m your second choice?
[Overlapping]
Antoine: No! It was just to help him—
Etoiles: No, but, okay
Antoine: He got— listen—
Etoiles: There’s no problem!
Antoine: Fuck, nevermind
Etoiles: There’s no issue! Oh, so you’re opening my chest and stealing?
Antoine: I was just looking! Out of curiosity
Etoiles: Yeah, that’s it
Antoine: I don’t even understand what’s in it
Etoiles: Yeah, out of curiosity. Dude, your opinion on my cave?
Antoine: Well frankly it’s big
end Video Transcript.]
#antoine daniel#etoiles#étoiles#jay clips#qsmp#<- this is an appropriate tag wait till the end . it makes up half the video too#4/08/2024#le fameux bol tibétain d’étoiles…. traduit pour les inters#and i call it a saga here because the clips here span from early 2021 to mid 2023#you know the first clips are old because antoine is still using twt at that point#not included here; a zlan 2024 clip where étoiles yells ‘fuck me in the ass’ (french) at antoine 👍#also not included ; a serveur du lundi clip where étoiles jokes about antoine having a leash at home#antoine denying this and étoiles saying ‘well i spent a weekend at your place’#????????? yeah sure why not#ALSO re the qsmp clip antoine brought up the marriage possibility after hearing about the upcoming spiderbit wedding <3#bro sounds so fucking needy in the clip it’s sending me . how can i make this into qantoine lore……. this WAS the period where things were#slowly changing within the french dynamic (aka . they were meeting and talking to new people) and qantoine was growing increasingly paranoi#about trusting people then……. him trying to hold onto someone he loves dearly because he’s not sure if he can keep up with him…..#anw some other translation type notes read if ur interested in that:#wasn’t quite sure on the best way to translate ‘l’angoisse’ here . i went with ‘dread’#literally it translates to ‘anxiety/anguish/dread/etc’ but it’s used in a very flippant way in slang#so anguish felt a bit strong here . when someone says ‘oh l’angoisse’ about something it’s usually to mean an uncomfortable or unusual#scenario . but the intensity of that very much varies#OH ALSO : if anyone wants the sources to each of these clips lmk#i may just add them here later when im less tired#insuline & nicotine
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I miss him every day!!!! Urg.... MDAU!Sonic post EP 8 thoughts are ruining my brain rn you have no idea.
#starrway art#sonic#sonic fanart#mdau#sonic murder drones au#sonic md au#sonic the hedgehog#murder drones#sorry no id bc im so tired and just want to post this#ALSO ALSO this au has the most fucked up version of unbreakable bond bc Nine is LITERALLY just there in Sonic's head by the end of it#also we have an au for the au that i wanna sketch out a comic for or something#it deals with Silver and S teaming up to go on a bit of soul searching and they find a solver-less Nine wo is scared and doesnt know whats#going on and has probably lost his memories#so yeaaahhhhhh#im very normal about this au
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Life on the farm
#gopher art#mortal kombat#subscorp#mk subzero#mk scorpion#kuai liang#hanzo hasashi#mortal kombat legends#been holding onto this one for a bit! finished it more than a month ago lol#i was originally going to save it for subscorp week but then i was like. nah. that wouldnt be entirely fair lol#and besides. ive been wanting to share it for long enough and my resolve has kinda worn down#anyway - snowblind but AU'd! heres my concept of this (which i may use later on for something idk): king kano got his shit wrecked#like way before the events of the movie. by the revenants in fact. i want him torn to shreds. you still have random roving assholes#making trouble across the wastes. but its much less dire. kuai still retires to his farm. kenshi still falls for shang tsung's bullshit#and kuai mentors him. hanzo becomes warlord of netherrealm. BUT. he and kuai keep in contact. its long distance and they make it work#sometimes scorpion vacays to Kuai's farm. as a treat. thats what this drawing is#i cant deny that i literally just want them to be happy ok. thats literally all i want for these gay old ninjas#bonus commentary: at the time of drawing this i was still figuring out how i wanted to draw hanzo. he's so fucking hard to draw#when i draw him without his mask or beard he looks so fucking off. but if i draw him with the beard it feels weird too.#babygirl why are you so hard to draw?? dont you want me to draw you?????
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(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)
#I've had the cutest interaction today#So like yesterday? There was this post I saw on my dash that was like “you want to know extra info about museums? Just befriend a–#guide! That way you can also unlock the Secret Backscene” and I was like. Lmao. Who could ever befriend a museum guide I've never–#even personally met anyone who works at museums?#... Well. Guess what happened today#I was following this guided museum tour with a friend and when the tour came to an end I was happily chatting with her when the guide.#Shyly chimed in and was like “is that an Atsushi keychain?” And I was like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#And I was like‚‚ omg‚‚‚ Do you happen to know‚‚‚ This one series‚‚‚‚‚‚#And they unsheathed their phone like a fbi distinctive in American movies to show me their fyo/zai background amjdsgawsjda it was SO cute.#They were adorable. And I got so embarassed but trying to keep my cool while internally I was like‚‚‚#Omg the Cool Museum Guide™ is talking with me about my hyperfixation‚‚‚‚‚‚ What is happening#We talked a bit about the manga it was such a nice and sweet exchange. They said they like Dostoyevsky and I was like yeah he's so cool!!!#They said they're sorry about Bram it was REALLY cute (´;ω;`)#I didn't want to hamper them too much so I took my leave shortly after but I'd actually really like to pay visit again–#when the new chapter is out??#Hhhhhhh I don't want to look stalkery and like go look for them on their job. But also like‚ they looked genuinely happy and as excited as–#I was when we were chatting and I believe in the power of human connections through shared hyperfixations#The possibly funnier part is that then my friend went “Wait you're into b/ungo stray dogs??” and like alright. This is less surprising.#I already knew she likes manga.#What actually left me quite baffled was that... She really didn't know I was into b/sd. When it's literally what I think about 24/7#Something very similar happened just a week ago. My friend gifted me a manga volume of a series she really likes for my birthday#But when she was giving it to me she awkwardly went “oh‚ just‚ it features romance between two guys. I hope that's okay with you...”#And I internally had to pause and realize that no.#In fact most of the people I hang out with don't know I spend half my time curating a bl focused blog.#It's just funny in a way? I got so used to concealing my hyperfixations I didn't even realize I actually got quite good at passing–#for someone who is normal about stuff.#random rambles
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no youre completely right - im a gay (trans)man and i legit wanna see so much more about the women bc There Is So Little. I wanna make a lesbian oc who gets bent in half by taash. im very normal.
i’m just tired man!!!! it feels so obvious how disproportionate it is when you’ve got. a cast of characters that we know almost equally little about. and a few of them explode in popularity and it’s like spongebob sticking his hand out the curtain. literally all a character needs to do numbers is to be a light-skinned man
#like you bring up taash!! we know equally little abt taash and emmrich. why is one FUCKING EVERYWHERE and i’m like. scrounging for scraps#sometimes i feel like there has to be a secret other main dragon age tag that has the real stuff in it#but maybe it’s just the tumblr userbase idfk#i feel like i’ve seen a little bit more of neve since the trailer but still not anything on the level as everyone’s fave boys#and before you hit me with ‘lucanis was in a couple short stories’ harding was in the literal entire last game. and she and neve had comics#there’s obviously something to be said about character types too. a lot of people love dark and broody#vs harding keeps getting described as Girl Next Door and that’s much less popular. fine i’m not going to argue abt individual tastes#but like. neve isn’t popping off??? on the columbo fansite????#everyone’s talking about emmrich’s experiments and research but no one talks about bellara’s??#like personally. ok. lesbian opinion so take that for what it’s worth. but i don’t understand all the lucanis thirst#davrin i could understand. davrin can get it. he gets way fewer thirstposts than the other men (hmmm interesting im sure it’s nothing 🙃)#i’m just like. tired. i don’t want to say people can’t enjoy what they’re excited about#but it adds up!#i feel guilty complaining when i am also not doing a lot of Female Character Poasting but like#there’s only so much i can do as someone who can’t draw and has been too busy to keep on top of all the breaking news
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is this where u take the requests? if not, apologies lol still learning tumblr, I WAS WONDERING IF MY VARGAS RELATED REQUESTOBER REQUEST COULD BE JAKE/NNY? i feel like jake/nny is SO looked past like its actually so cute, they could be doing anything THANK U IF THIS WAS THE WRONG PLACE SORRY MWAH MWAH X
Day 12 - Once you had one hole in your skin, you've had 'em all
#My art#Requestober#Vargas#Jake#Nny#*looks at your comment of NnyGaster being cursed* *looks at this* Well I mean at least you're consistent#Of all the crackships I haven't considered I possibly haven't considered this one the most#I mean considering I Just got into Nny/Scriabin lol#I have extreme Edgar/Scriabin blinders lol this is known#Is this a thing and I just don't know? I can't even snark I just - it Literally Never Occurred to me lol#Edgar got all the shipping charts and diagrams and graphs he's special that way <3#I love Jake dearly and don't want him to be hurt! Unlike the Vargases lol ♥ I love them dearly and Do want them be hurt#Precarious position anyone who gets paired up with Johnny haha#I suppose if Johnny's still in Sweet Mode that's one thing but!! the rest of him!!!#Their dynamic over something like piercings Is interesting tho - Jake hangs out with artsy types and Nny is definitely that lol#And Johnny's y'know - weird about stuff lol - I could see him getting into a pierced partner! No pun intended#And obviously Jake is very good on boundaries <3 He's not actually touching him here just gesturing at his ear#It also occurs to me that I can't think of a time I've seen Johnny with tattoos :0 Body modification+art! (+bodily weirdness)#Might be something there to look at sometime hmmm#Anyhow - continuing my trend of drawing Nny on the hood of the car over the cliff haha#I didn't think I had leveled up all that much from last year but comparing the two??? I'm Way more pleased with this one#Still struggling with the bottom of the shoe but better! Practicing!!!#Maybe there Is something to drawing just a bit bigger lol#Nny also looks significantly less anemic from not having died yet lol#Really pleased with the harder edges of the unlined shapes ♪ I used that grass brush on everything and it's dope#Do I like backgrounds???? First lining now this so much to consider
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"We can get through this by working together, reach out to your friends, community is all we have, a social network will be your security in the world, now is the time to lean on others!"
I do agree, and it's scientifically sound (pretty sure there is data about how people with better social networks live longer and etc) but also....augh..... what about the severe social issues, difficulty to leave the house, physical issues which lead to like zero socialization energy a majority of the time, etc. etc. Social support can be a replacement for structural support, but.. I guess I just wish it didn't have to be. Community is extremely difficult to build, even moreso if you're someone who has issues with social cues or group conversations or even just being around others in the first place. And blah, nuance, of course I'm just complaining or maybe being too negative or maybe misunderstanding, but, I hardly have the energy to brush my hair once every 2 months.. how am I supposed to maintain a wide social network and be active in a Community and Join Groups lol... sometimes it kind of feels like "er.. well if thats my only option then...... ruh roh". It's overwhelming
#Kind of like some post I saw a long time ago talking about how even the meanest shittiest most difficult to get along with#elderly people or whaever still deserve to have some sort of systems in place to support them so they're not just relying on the#grace of relatives or etc. who may not be able to deal with them. Not saying that I'm like mean and cruel or anything#but the fact of the matter is in most social situations either I am compromising or the other person is. Not in like an ~`ouuu im so weirdd#nobody willever understand my quirky swagg hee heee~' way but like a.. Just factually the things that make me happy and comfortable#are often incompatible with people. The way I communicate and process things is different from the way other people do and that#is always a barrier. I cannot have ''easy''' interactions. Even with 'understanding' people there is nearly always a significant#amount of effort. You can't walk into a group of people and then be like ''okay you guys all have to wear#masks and you also cant play music too loud and also we should communicate turns of speaking very clearly so group conversations#arent too stressful. and also i need this and that and we have to do this and that and '' etc. etc. You CAN. And some people will#go along with that. but they will ALWAYS secretly resent you for it. You will be the one person they're relieved to not have to be around.#theyre glad when you dont show up since they can go back to doing things however they want and not masking and all these boring#annoying things. OR you can say none of that and just deal with the loud music and the talking and the unmasked people. but then#YOU'RE compromising. and no matter how nice they are it's exhausting to be around and youre just further alienated#while in the presence of people and uncofmrtoabel the whole time.#Which I'm not saying the only form of community is a group setting specificially but just giving that as an example lol#I just wish there were a better option than ''well learn to socialize normally or just suffer then'' . Which I know is not what people are#saying. I guess I just always feel a bit scared when 'community is the answer'. Since its not like 'oh im just socially anxious and need to#get out of my shell~!' or something thats really that remedy-able. It's like.. my mostly unchangeable physical health issues combined#with the mostly unchangable literal way that my brain processes sensory informationand other things means that interacting with#others in a normal and easy way is incredibly difficult and often exhausting especially to maintain in any longform fashion. So then#when it's like ''the answer to staying safe is to maintain longform social connections!! :3 just reach out!!'' then.. ermm... O_O#also I'm not even one of the cutesy shy emotional hermits that's nervous. I'm the Bad Stereotype emotionless robotic cold seeming#looms in the corner of the room type of thing so people have less pity on you in that way. -_- ANYWAY gghj#I need like.. a designated social representative or something.. When I did work in that bookshop forever ago they gave me a#person who basically was just with me to help communicate with others on my behalf and supervise me and stuff. I need that.. Some#more extraverted person I can latch onto and they can maintain the Social Support Network for me and I can just be their +1 to all#of the Social Things and community. I have helpful skills I can contribute to other people and stuff it's just like.. I cant socialize lol#I cook food or something for you.. then you keep me in contact with Community.. a deal. (but then what about when I'm too sick to#contribute? as is often the case. there's not much place for people like me in communities sometimes i fear.. sigh.) ***
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Building off of what I wrote in my fic "Sparks," I'm really compelled by the idea of Ford genuinely no longer being interested in sailing around in a boat with Stan by the time they were seniors in high school.
I like the idea of it not being just a symptom of the resentment that had been building between them, nor it being a dream of Ford's that only paled in comparison to west coast tech, but it being a genuine loss of interest on Ford's end. I think it complicates things even further in some really juicy ways.
Like, imagine going through high school slowly losing more and more interest in the dream you've shared with your twin and only friend ever since you were little kids. How do you break it to him? How do you explain it to him without making it sound like a rejection of him? Without it making him hate you?
How do you explain it without it feeling like a spit in the face to all the hard work he's put into a plan that started out as a way of him comforting you by telling you "it doesn't matter what people say about you, you're going to be an adventurer who sails away into the sunset and never has to hear their mockery ever again, and there will be babes and treasure and heroism, and then they'll all see how cool you really are!"
And all through high school you think to yourself, "he's going to move on to more realistic dreams any day now, and then I won't have to say anything about it!" But no matter how many times you mention something else he could do with his life that he seems interested in, or bring up the challenging logistics of traveling around long-term in a boat, he sounds just as committed to the childhood dream as ever, and completely oblivious to how apprehensive you sound.
So resentment grows, little by little. Because that's easier than confronting the soul-crushing levels of guilt that are building up inside of you, every time you don't take an opportunity to tell him you don't want to do the plan anymore. You don't have a single person in your life who modeled how to have difficult conversations for you. As far as you know, having this conversation with Stan would crush him into tiny little pieces and then he would hate you forever, and you can't stand the idea of losing the only friend you've ever had.
So tensions grow. A lack of interest turns into a bitter resentment that, if you were really being honest with yourself, is directed more at yourself than it is at Stan.
And then the falling-out happens, and it seems like you were proven right. Stan hates you now, and he's never going to forgive you for giving up on his dream. But two can play that game, so you try to hate him too. Because if you hate him too, then maybe it won't hurt as much that he never came back. That he never even turned up at school, or by the boat, or in through your bedroom window in the middle of the night. He knows what dad's like, and how he says impulsive exaggerated things when he's angry, and haven't you both dealt with his harsh words countless times before and been able to dust yourselves off and joke about it later? So why isn't he back at home, joking with you about how absurd your dad acted that night, being impossible and belligerent about ruining your dream, but at least now you're even, because you've ruined his dream too.
-
And now imagine you find out he risked the lives of everyone in existence to bring you back, right after you had accepted your fate was to die killing Bill. It would be terrifying and confusing and infuriating. If he cared so much, why didn't he do something to reconnect with you sooner? Why did he ignore you in favor of trying to make it big without you? Why didn't he take the infinitely safer and simpler action of reaching out to you without you having to track down his address and send a desperate plea for help? You were convinced that he didn't care enough to bother with you unless you had an important enough reason for him to come. But even then, he thought your plans were stupid. He didn't want anything to do with you, not even with the world at stake.
Did he save your life out of guilt? Does he pity you that much? It doesn't add up with what he did in the decade leading up to shoving you into the portal. And the dissonance between the version of him in your head that hates you, and the man who held out his arms to welcome you back to your home dimension, is so strong that you feel like you're being lied to again, like you're back in the depths of gaslighting and manipulation that Bill put you through, even though there's no way that's what Stan is trying to do... right? You can't figure it out, so you run away from it. You don't want to know the answer to whether or not Stan hates you, because you don't know which answer would hurt more, so you try to make him hate you more than ever, because at least then you would know for sure how he feels.
And in the end, after he sacrifices his memories for you, and for the world, things seem clearer. The layers upon layers of confusion and anger and hurt seem to have washed away like drawings in the sand, leaving behind the simple truth: that you two had an argument, and didn't move past it for forty years, and despite everything you put each other through, you both still want to re-connect.
So you sail away in a boat together.
And at first, it's wonderful. It's exactly what you want. It feels like an apology to Stan, and a thank-you for saving the world, and a once-in-a-lifetime chance to heal the rift between you two, and it's good to be back on earth, and you wonder why you ever doubted the dream you two once had.
But then, after the first long journey you spend on the sea together, when you get back home to dry land, Stan is already talking about planning your next adventure out on the open sea. He recaps every adventure you had on the first trip, over and over again, and he wants to chat with you all through the morning and long into the night, and you don't have the words to explain to yourself that you don't have enough social battery for this, and suddenly you're slipping back into the horrifyingly familiar feeling of Stan being overbearing and needing space from him and how could you think that? How could you think that about him after everything he's done for you and everything he's forgiven you for? But the longer this goes on, the more you realize that you still don't want to spend the rest of your life sailing around with Stan. It's great fun in moderation, but the idea of your whole life revolving around Stan and going on adventures with Stan and being in a boat with Stan with no time to be by yourself thinking about your own things and figuring out your own dreams makes your skin crawl with a claustrophobic kind of panic that you still don't know how to put into words forty years after the first time this feeling grabbed you by the throat and ruined your friendship with Stanley.
But the first time this happened, it nearly ruined his life forever. You can't let yourself feel this. You don't feel this. You're happy to spend the rest of your life fulfilling Stan's lifelong dream, and making up for the time you crushed his dream, and sure, maybe he crushed your dream once too, and maybe it would be nice for him to support your dreams like you're now doing for him, but you can't say that. He saved the universe, and it would be horrible and ungrateful and cruel for you to try to voice these feelings, especially when you don't know how to voice your feelings without it making other people feel like you twisted a knife into their gut. So you try to pretend the feeling isn't there.
You go out on a boat with Stan again. You planned out another incredible journey together, and this should be fun, and you should be happy about this, but the unspoken feeling you shoved as far down in yourself as it could possibly go is eating you alive. The worst part? Stan is starting to notice. You have never been good at hiding your emotions. The trick to it has always been to convince yourself you don't feel it at all, and not think about it, and that has always worked like a charm. But whenever the emotion claws its way back up to the forefront of your mind, you can tell Stan knows something is wrong. So you can't even give him the happy ending he deserves. You can't even convince him that you want to be here on the open seas forever with him, like he deserves. And you keep trying and trying to hide it, but Stan keeps asking in roundabout ways, like "You're being awfully quiet, sixer," and "whats that look on your face?" and eventually it comes exploding out of you like a shaken-up soda bottle dropped on its cap.
And then it's like you're back at home in New Jersey again, standing in the living room while dad grabs Stanley by the shirt. It all comes pouring out of you, in the worst possible way, with the worst possible phrasing, like a pandora's box of monstrousness, and Stan tries to fight back against the sting of your words, but you're made out of acid and you're burning through him and you can see it on his face, and there's never any coming back from this, not this time, you'll just have to either jump into the ocean or become a monster forever, so Stan can hate you more easily again, and-
-and at the end of the outburst, you're still on a boat in the middle of nowhere in the ocean with your brother, in dangerous waters, and you have things to do to keep the boat running smoothly.
You can't run away from him. He can't run away from you. You're stuck here for at least a couple more weeks, even if you turned around and sailed back towards shore right away.
-
And the thing that compels me so much here, despite how unbelievably angsty it all is, is that it sets up a situation wherein the Stans might end up forced to actually address the decades of resentment and confusion and wanting-to-reconnect-throughout-it-all that they thought they could gloss over and heal with enough time spent adventuring together on a boat. They might end up forced to actually address the crux of the issue that drove them apart in the first place: Ford wanting a little more space to feel like his own person, and to feel like he's able to have his own dreams, too.
It wouldn't happen easily, nor right away, but if they were stuck together on a little boat in the middle of nowhere surrounded by magical creatures they have to protect each other from in order to make it back home alive, then after they had one fight where they brought up all the things they silently agreed to never bring up again, it would probably happen many more times, and each time it would leave them both angrier at each other than ever, until eventually something honest slipped through amidst all the saying-anything-except-what-they-mean bickering. And once enough of these honest moments slipped through, then they would have a thread to tug on to start to unravel the gargantuan knot of their decades of unresolved conflicts.
And then, eventually, maybe Stan could learn that he can have a good friendship with his brother without needing to be glued to him at the hip, and Ford needing a certain amount of alone time doesn't mean he dislikes him or wants to abandon him, and Ford could learn that he can be honest and have a meaningful connection with someone without it driving them away and making them hate him.
#succumbed to the stan twins angst visions and wrote 2000 words about this#ford pines#ford meta#this turned into a character analysis that almost reads like a fic#godswriting#<- i need to change my writing tag to this#something bothers me a little bit about the solution to their conflict being 'ford appreciates stan more now so he is now fine with-#-boat adventures with stan'. to me it leaves the initial conflict of 'he doesnt want to do that anymore' unresolved#obviously you could easily argue that ford never stopped wanting to go on boat adventures with stan and he just couldnt justify it to-#-himself when compared to the opportunity at west coast tech. but that has one less layer of conflict#compared to the possibility that he truly was not interested in boat adventures anymore. ESPECIALLY if its a manifestation of him#feeling suffocated by the whole dynamic-twins-duo thing#its normal to start wanting a little bit more space especially at that age. to want to have space to figure out who you are#the healthy thing would have been them talking about it and figuring out a compromise. like 'when ford needs space he can spend a few hours#-alone without stan being worried the whole time that it means ford hates him' and 'we still spend x amount of time working on the boat and#-we still chat on the way to and from school every day and hang out at the beach on weekends'#like of fucking course it was never about hating stan or about wanting to get away from him because of who he is as a person!#he literally just wanted to have a little bit of breathing room to be his own separate person. he just didn't know how to put it into words#I really think the crux of it all was them not knowing how to navigate that balance between independence and identity while staying close#so ford misattributing/reducing that feeling to 'I dont have the exact same dream as stan anymore. why does he still have that dream. oh no#feels like a good way of giving that conflict a tangible aspect to it thats easy for the stans to point at and talk about as a way of-#-alluding to the REAL core of the conflict between them.#and of course the show never says 'they sail around the world for the rest of their lives 24/7' so it's not like it Actually Conflicts with#-my interpretation of the conflict and how it should be resolved. but since its the last thing we see happen between them when theyre given#their happy ending. I feel compelled to say 'hey I know them living in the shack together and traveling in a boat every single year sounds-#-really fun and like a satisfying ending but I think they should have a Little Bit more space from eachother than that. Hanging out almost-#-daily but not literally being in the same house and same boat for the rest of their lives. bc if stan was ok with ford asking for that-#-little bit of space and if ford didnt panic and isolate himself from everyone whenever he needs like one hour of alone time? that would-#-feel like a big piece of the puzzle fitting into place for their conflict resolution and growth as characters. to me#and I think they deserve to have all the tied-up-loose-ends and resolved-conflicts and character-growth in the world.
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Let's say chocolate is a metaphor for traditional relationships that happen to appear good but are too sickly sweet for Sanji to handle and after WCI he ends up not liking chocolate. At least for a while. He needs to move on from what happened first. But he wants to force himself to like it because he should like chocolate. It is one of the most basic ingredients when making sweets and it is also everywhere.
So what if it makes him want to throw up? What if his stomach betrays him when cooking? What if he needs to stop every two seconds to breathe because his lungs don't work properly when he smells chocolate? He will keep trying and trying to make it work. Everybody loves chocolate, after all, he should too.
But then, one day, Usopp sees everything he has around the kitchen. Like. That's an awful lot of sweets and a disgusting amount of chocolate and he doesn't seem like he has slept in a week. So of course he is concerned. "Why- What's all of this about, Sanji?" He tries to hide his nervousness with a laugh.
Sanji grips the counter tighter. So much his knuckles turn white. "I- I don't know. I guess I was just. In the mood for chocolate." But he doesn't sound sure at all. In fact, he looks like he's about to cry.
"Well." He looks around the room without wanting to touch anything but approaching Sanji a bit to check on him. "Luffy can have all of my portions because I kind of... Not like chocolate?"
"You don't- You don't like chocolate?"
"No? Too sweet. I actually pretty much hate it? The smell already makes me ill."
"Me too."
"You what?"
"I think I don't- I don't think I like chocolate anymore. Is that- I don't know if I ever did. Is that alright?"
"Why wouldn't it be alright, Sanji? It's just chocolate. Nobody can force you to eat it. Or cook it if you really don't want to."
And Sanji realizes that maybe... Maybe it is alright for him to not want chocolate, and a wave of relief takes over him for a solid second.
#sometimes i think about sanji and his internalized homophobia#he's a bit too much like me it's scary-- anyway#i don't like chocolate that much either like. talking literally here#so maybe sanji looks a little gayer and less bi in this post but have you considered that i needed to make it like this bc i'm projecting#i have no idea where i wanted to go with this. chocolate in theory are like. just the concept of traditional m/f relationships#but it ended up looking more like girls in general and look. look. maybe. maybe it's okay for sanji to be a little gay in this one#usopp has absolutely no idea what's going on but he just knows sanji is very very fucked up and needs help rn#also something something usopp doesn't like chocolate and sanji forces himself to like it until he realizes he doesn't have to#idk i don't think he hates chocolate in this one maybe he just needs a little more time to like. eat chocolate#what the fuck am i saying this doesn't make any sense i just woke up i am so sorry#black leg sanji#usopp#sanuso#one piece#whole cake island
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thinking about mtt literally physically dragging eachother down and being restrained to eachother because theyre genuinely that fucking ass for eachother but then it means i'd have to decide which of them to humiliate by putting a collar on them. and i can't choose. if they dont all equally suffer than whats the point man 🙁🙁🙁
#i think they'd all have interesting reactions to it 2#like a permanent collar that cant be taken off. to make even more gruesome what if it were like built into the BONE????#or it could just be something less extreme like bone carvings. killer would absolutely do that shit#anyways i think horror would be the most reactive to it. anger is the most intriguing emotion#and also dog horror real. anyways he'd hate to be demeaned and disrespected like that. he has an ego and honor man and this is cutting it#dust drags him around constantly. killer pets him and disregards his boundaries. like a fucking DOG#because horror hates kist enough that he'd never let them get vulnerable enough. not that it stops killer LMAO#dust thinks some of horrors hatred towards them is a projection of his own self hatred (and hed lowkey be right)#loser. dust i think would be unique because to me he'd be a bit fine with it#i mean i think itd be hidden under paps scarf so it wouldn't be a constant reminder of horror n killer#but he lets the two hold the leash at least a bit. give him an eensy bit of touch and let a few insults slide#but the second he decides that even the smallest thing is enough he gets ticked off and then yk. someone has to put bunny back in his place#because dust is chill enough to let normal things in his eyes pass. he's not very reactionary or the type to immediately bite back#(since dust would just avoid horror and killer if he did meet them. means he has some sort of tolerance for them. keeping his peace fr)#but the moment hes reminded that god these two do suck and i shouldn't be letting this happen all of the held back anger comes out#killer would seek out the force and stuff. horror would treat him like shit because it makes himself feel good and killer look like an idio#dust doesn't even glance at him though and it pisses killer off. both of their actions do actually#like WTF DUST you guys literally put this on me. treat me like the piece of shit i know you think i am#but also STOP HORROR!!!! dont pull me around and demean me im not a pet i dont want to be treated that way even tho i say it do#yeah hes caught in a standstill. AND SO AM I do you see my issue. cannot pick one specific#all the trio would have such interesting reactions i cant just choose one to solely suffer......... anyways mttpoly am i right#should i tag this. like majority of the interesting stuff is in tags. but also i didnt post today i have a duty#dust sans#killer sans#horror sans#murder time trio#utmv#tricule rant#this just ended up being me thinking about mtt with collars. maaan what about handcuffs and chains and other restrictive things#having them have restraining relationship isnt enough i need them to PHYSICALLY RESTRAIN EACHOTHER
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i love my friends so much. i feel like yesterday i had a lot of shit going on in my head and i woke up to my friend explaining things in a way that put my mind at ease. i dont feel as anxious anymore because i know i was overthinking. i think my dad said it best when he told me that he thought my wonderful brain of mine just wants to think problems are bigger than they actually are. he is right! im just inexperienced in life and half of the time im scared im doing something wrong but- HEY. i need to be more confident in making mistakes. making mistakes doesn't define me as a person!! i need to stop worrying about doing life right and just live for the sake of living and doing what makes me happy!!!!!!!
#thank u blake. u really helped#also nessa!! thank u for that reblog about your perspective on my one post about feeling lost career wise#it helps me to know im not the only one living this life because holy fuck i can feel confused sometimes because.. am i doing this right?#and you know what? theres no correct path that i think there is but im just not good without a direct direction. it makes me a little#anxious about things#i dont know if its because i have some form of a disorder but i function better when i plan stuff out and give myself something to#decompress the problems and thoughts because in my brain theyre just all stuck and clumped together#and that can get a bit scary and overwhelming!!!#im just glad i have people that care about me. it means literally everything to me#so even if i dont 100% reply dont think i dont care because literally any ANY advice or kindness you show to me means the world#we're all just living this little life and we might as well make the best of it#people care..... thats just.... its good... it makes me feel less alone that people do#i love my friends so much#evennnn if we dont talk every day or are only mutuals in passing!!! it literally means a lot if people show me kindness#like holy shit!!! your older than me? and your dealing with a similar experience??? and your telling me that its okay??? and that itll be#okay?????#like#just the reassurance that things will be okay and work out and that im not the only one dealing with a feeling like mine#idk sometimes i just feel like im crazy and like my thoughts make no sense?? you know?? but yall get it#im glad that i have people who are older than me in my life cause yall have experienced stuff that i can use to be better#like your life experiences can help me in a way that can make a difference on my perspective on things#its why i like talking to my coworkers. because theyve seen things and done things i havent and their perspective can teach me potentially#i just dont feel so overwhelmed with life when i talk to people who understand#i feel so young and yet old enough to know but even the people who are older dont know so im sort of on the right track i suppose depending#on how you look at it#so- im just gonna live my life and smile because!!! you gotta.#you gotta surround yourself with people who can enrich you and teach you things for the better and make you want to grow#some of you are like that#you may not know that#but that kindness means so much
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idk if this is a good prompt but put doomguy in myhouse.wad I think he would find it enriching
Right, so I've been mulling on this one for a little bit now, n I'm not opposed to writing something for you, I'm just not... entirely sure what to write? Because the thing is, myhouse.wad doesn't actually really have anything to do with Doom as a story. Sure, Doom is important in that it's the vessel through which the story is told and one of the connections between the narrator and his dead companion. But as far as Doom itself goes, and the story about a man who was too angry/stupid to die, fighting demons and saving earth, none of that is at all relevant to myhouse.wad and its story. For all intents and purposes, Doomguy isn't actually a character in myhouse.wad. So I'm not really sure how exactly to fit him in there.
#pikspeak#bc like. ok so if u say write dg as if he is actually the character in myhouse.wad#then the problem is that theres a pretty huge meta element to myhouse.wad and having some of the outside context- even just the context tha#its supposed to be the creator's dead friend's childhood home- is important. youre not MEANT to 'immerse' yourself in it or pretend you are#the protag. part of the impact comes from knowing youre just an observer and this is just a videogame on your computer.#writing dg as a character inside myhouse.wad would rob it of a lot of context and therefore impactfulness. hed just be walking around an#old house looking at things that have no meaning to him.#so ok then not dg as the protag of myhouse.wad but what about just like.. him in the funky liminal space of myhouse.wad? the non-euclidean#reality breaking shifting house of leaves place of myhouse.wad? i *could* do something like that if thats what youre looking for#but then considering this is the character whose reaction to finding himself in literal hell was to go 'hey??? this is stupid???? anyway im#gonna kill everything here' he probably wouldnt be too exceptionally ruffled by finding himself in a sorta funky reality breaking space.#hed probably still just go 'oh weird. funky. anyway back to killing demons.' and that would be it. which yeah i CAN write if its what u wan#it just. yknow. doesnt quite seem like the right tone? just kinda flat by comparison#i have considered doing things in the right tone before. since it is also canon that on his way back to hell dg has to run through the#burned out ruins of his own hometown. something similar to the visiting an old place thats been twisted by time and grief and coming to#terms with its loss or something to that effect#but. if im being honest i dont know that i have the writing skill to pull that off well much less as a short fic for a prompt response#uhhh anyway where was i going with this.#im happy to write something for you; possibly even something myhouse.wad related if you want!! im just not sure how to do that hdfbhdj...#anyway sorry for letting this one sit for so long without an answer. have another fic prompt where the fic is getting a little longer than#anticipated n combining that with rotating this to try n figure out what i could write for it...#guess time got away from me a little bit. sorry about that!
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i started a supercorp portrait of a lady on fire au like three years ago. i'm never going to finish it, but the writing style is pretty cool, so i want to share it. so um enjoy the prologue and a bit of chapter one?
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Prologue. Bonnelles, France. 1786.
“First, my contours,” Kara said, her voice soft and level. She looked out upon the dozen or so young women, their eyes darting back and forth from their papers to Kara herself. “The outline,” she continued. The increasingly swift sound of scratching charcoal prompted Kara to further instruct, “Not too fast. Take time to look at me.” She paused. “See how my arms are placed.”
At that moment, Kara saw the painting.
She swallowed and took in a breath; she schooled her expression before letting out the air with a pathetically soft “My hands.” Her students’ gaze followed her verbal direction, now observing as Kara’s fingers curled with remembrance. Their own hands now began to sketch the slope of hers—the slope that had once coaxed breathy moans from a lover, the slope that had once created that very painting in all of its hollow longing.
Kara felt her heart rate accelerating, and her attempts at calming deep breaths only made her shoulders shake unsteadily. “Who brought that painting out?” Her eyes darted around, landing on each possible offender, as she tensed her core and adopted a stern countenance.
Every student dutifully turned to look at the work.
It was an especially young girl who finally lifted her hand. “I brought it. From the stock room. Should I have not?”
Kara’s “no” felt like a brick, its weight threatening to pry tears from her reddening eyes. So Kara took another swallow, a handful of blinks, a few more steadying breaths.
“Did you paint it?” the girl asked innocently. Nia, her name was? She stared at Kara, oblivious to the flood of sound overwhelming Kara’s mind and echoing in the cavern of her heart.
“Yes,” Kara uttered softly, the word barely audible as they fell from her lips. “A long time ago.”
Nia’s head snapped back to examine the painting once more. It stood on an old but sturdy easel, tattooed and scarred but still standing. The artwork itself was brooding, with a white sun bleeding into a dark vignette. Heavy clumps of clouds occupied the sky and caged some of the sun’s rays, so the fire burning behind the woman was bright enough in comparison to create a dragging shadow of her figure. The flames crawled up the back of her windswept dress, bringing sharp tension to an otherwise lulling, melancholy landscape.
“What’s the title?”
The sound of the sea began to swell in Kara’s head. Her lips trembled. Her body unwittingly swayed slightly. “Portrait of a Lady on Fire.”
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Chapter I. The island of Brittany, France, and the surrounding sea. 1779.
Kara squinted into the distance, her face scrunching up a bit as she desperately tried to shield her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun on the water. For all its gorgeous teals and sparkling peaks, it certainly did make her wish for one of those brimmed hats the rowers were all wearing. With every one of their paced paddles, the cork-like little canoe bobbed haphazardly. Kara rather felt as if she were in the wine glass of a thoroughly drunken Marie Antoinette.
At least she wasn’t prone to seasickness.
She still felt quite unsteady, though, being thrown about and forced to pathetically grab onto the boat’s low walls. She leaned forward, trying to regain her balance and ground herself despite the absence of ground.
The wooden pallet holding her canvas was, apparently, as unstable as she was, and the next thing Kara knew, it had been lurched off of the boat like vomit from a drunkard. Kara watched helplessly as it thrashed among the choppy waves, the sea carrying it a few feet from the boat.
The chief rower met her desperate look with exhausted resignation; he ceased his paddling as Kara shed her overcoat and placed a precarious foot on the edge of the canoe.
With a strained creak from the boat’s wood, she jumped into the water, dress billowing behind her. Her first gasp for air upon emerging from the water was audible; she could feel the effort in her throat. Her arms moved in laborious little arcs as she slowly made her way towards the floating pallet and finally made a desperate reach for it. Kara’s fingers grasped onto a wooden board, and she pulled herself up onto it with a grunt.
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The incessant wind upon the sea was certainly not helping Kara. Dripping wet, she wrapped herself up in her overcoat in a pitiful plea for warmth. She held the edges of the garment up to her lips, the sensation of the dry fabric bringing her some comfort as she closed her eyes and left herself to the mercy of the mighty sea.
But the interminable rocking of the feeble boat wouldn’t allow her any rest.
Kara wasn’t very religious, not anymore. Yet, the sight of the cliffs and coast of Brittany moved her to relieved prayer.
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The sun had already begun to set as Kara trekked up the sandy coast. Her legs ached with every stumbling, unsure step—maybe she was a bit seasick after all—and her hands were tired of having to grip her full skirt to keep it out of her way.
She paused on the rocks, taking a moment to manually wring some of the water out of her skirt. She filled her lungs with an arduous breath before slinging the rope holding the pallet over her shoulder. Next came the fabric sling, which housed her trunk of personal items—she positioned it on her back with careful poise.
The journey up the cliffs and towards the trees was exhausting. Kara’s skirt required repositioning every few seconds, the rope was digging into her shoulder, and the pallet and trunk slammed into her back with each wobbling step. By the time she reached the straight path up to the residence, her breaths were heavy and pained, and the sun was nearly fully hidden beneath the horizon.
A soft light emanated from the windows above the mansion’s door, helping Kara feel a bit more secure as she knocked. A short blonde woman answered her summon and introduced herself with a flat “I’m Eve.” She opened the door a bit wider and gestured with her body for Kara to come in.
Eve held a small candle as she guided Kara up the stairs, the sounds of their shoes echoing through the grand yet starkly undecorated hallway. The walls of the stairwell were cement bricks, and the wrought iron bannister was rather plain and geometric.
They came to a stop in front of a similarly void room, bare save a few heavy curtains and a daybed. The raised panels along these walls matched the white-painted wood of the window frames, and they gave the chamber some elegant character.
While Eve entered the comparatively less intimidating room, Kara stayed back a moment, taking in the shafts of muted blue light from the windows and the contrasting warm glow of leaping flames from the central fireplace.
Eve crouched down to poke at the fire as Kara set down her belongings. “It was a reception room,” Eve explained. “Though I’ve never seen it used.”
The fire crackled pleasantly. “Have you been here long?” Kara inquired.
“Three years,” Eve answered, directing her attention back to the fire.
Kara peeled off her overcoat and draped it along the wainscoting. “Do you like it here?”
“Yes,” Eve said simply as she stood up. She turned to Kara, meeting her eyes now as her hands smoothed over her skirt. “I’ll let you get dry.” And with a nod, she was on her way.
Kara watched her every step.
Once the door closed, she hastily began removing her overskirt. It fell to the dark herringbone floor with an unglamorous thud.
---
There was no method or grace to the way Kara wrapped her hand around the rusting crowbar, but with a few jerks, she’d managed to successfully pry the top off of the pallet.
After setting down the wood cover, Kara extended her hand, letting it fall clumsily onto the slick canvas in front of her. It was still wet, and her hand’s small circular movement caused moisture to pool at her fingertips, as if her touch had beckoned the water. So her hand withdrew, and Kara slid the canvas out from its container. Her eyes danced over the surface as she considered how to dry it, holding it in front of herself like the Communion host of an evening Mass.
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Kara decided to accompany her drying canvas, which was now positioned next to the fireplace. Stripped naked, she sat in front of the fire and pulled her legs towards herself—she was vulnerable, sitting there bare and in a new environment, and the action made her feel a bit more small, compact, and safe.
Kara set down her candle so she could light her tobacco pipe with the flames. Her large, smoky exhales grounded her, in a way, with the familiar sight and smell acting as a sort of sedative. And she stared forward, expression blank but unmistakably worn.
---
Kara walked barefoot along the cement floor, making her way through the hall and to the pantry room wrapped in nothing but her robe-like smock.
#again i have no intention of finishing so be forewarned etc#supergirl#supercorp poalof au#i have been feeling a bit weird going through my old work bc. i don't think i've really improved in the three years since starting this???#and i quite literally haven't written anything in 2023 other than like the 1000ish words to finish up this final chapter of tree of my song#&those thousand words genuinely feel worse than my old writing#because i'm out of practice i think#it's weird bc writing is something i think of as super important to me - like in less than a month i'll literally be at community college a#ain despite how bad my experience was last time with it bc i theoretically want to take classes that will make me a better writer#so like blah blah blah do i want to dedicate more of myself and my energy towards writing long term or do i just like the idea of being a#writer.#blah blah blah if i had to do a rose colored glasses on this all it would be. since january i have read 60something books and before this y#ar i hadnt been an avid reader in ages. and most of those books have been in the genre/niche i want to end up writing in#so i was learning writing by reading in that sense#hmm etc etc#i should probably stop taking myself and all of this so seriously lol idk#i'm theoretically back into writing and trying to prioritize it more again so (thumbs up emoji)
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I really want to draw and post art again but yet its been so incredibly hard to really to do anything? I'm at a point where I really just don't know why. I tend to sketch stuff and maybe sometimes I'll start working on the line art but then I just stop and never go back
I don't know what my problem is or what is really stopping me. I get really happy when I sketch and things are coming out really well!! But then that's kind of it? Its not like I feel super depressed about it or anything, so what's holding me back? A big ol mystery
#molly talks#back in like 2019 or 2020 i had a bit of a mental breakdown over my art#deleted everything i could#there's some sites that have my old art but that's because i can't get into the accounts to delete them#(i still want to for other reasons unrelated now to that breakdown)#idk if i'll ever reupload those older drawings#not that i hate them or anything i just don't really care#but yeah i've gotten over most if not all of what was hurting me back then#is there something subconscious going on? am i still actually struggling with that and not even know it?#i am yearning to be an artist again!!#i mean i was drawing like excessively since 2020 and through 2023#i was making like literally hundreds of characters#but those were always private and the finished products of those drawings are different than what i'd do for an actual like#“I'm going to finish this properly so i'm comfortable with posting this” kind of art#like i put in less effort overall since the point was getting the character designs out#i slowed down last year and then this year because i was focused on something else in relation to those characters#but then i eventually had to drop them#slime rancher stuff is super quick and easy to draw#so i do that every time i'm really into the games again#but its like.. i wanna draw trolls!! i wanna draw dismas and arcjec!! karkat and sollux!!#and others!! but i always just start stuff and never finish them#been making characters again and wow i can finish those drawings no problem#so what is my deal? what is going on? what is stopping me?#many curious questions to ponder
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I don't have a lot of energy these days [because of The Horrors] so I'm looking at my day and my priorities and trying to plan how I'm going to spend what energy I have, because I do need to be able to rest and relax but there are also things that need doing and that is a careful balance for me.
I managed to [mostly] clean the kitchen last night so I've kicked it out of the priority list until next weekend. Unfortunately the living room, bathroom, bedroom, and my office all need cleaning too. I think of the priorities, my office and the bedroom are the most important to me, so I'll probably push the living room and bathroom until at least Friday.
There's also the laundry. I don't have any clean clothes and as we're moving into winter I need to be more rigid about getting that done because days where the clothes can be dried on the line will be more limited. So I definitely need to wash an outfit or two and hang them up in the next hour.
That's already a really busy day, so I'll probably cut it there. But it's definitely going to still leave me a lot of work this week. Half my cleaning, at least one more round of laundry, settling dog food for the next couple of weeks, planting the fall/winter greens, doing some set up work on my computer, work on some writing projects, cleaning out the fridge, and patching some worn clothes. My work week isn't insane atm, but it is definitely limiting. Right now I have 6+4+0+4+2+5+5= 25 non work/non-survival needs (sleep, food, shower, etc) hours available each week. I need to figure out a regukar distribution of these that means everything is getting done and I still have an hour a day to myself as often as possible. I think it's probably not realistic to give myself more than an hour a day for free time/fun, which is a bit unfortunate because I've found in the past that my floor tends to be getting 2-3hrs of free time most days because of how I deal with transition and decision-making.
25-7 [1hr per day] is 18 hrs, so I just need to decide where and how to distribute those in order to keep pace with things.
Lets say the garden needs 3hrs per week, the laundry needs 4 hours (specifically 2 sets of 2 morning/early afternoon hours), the cleaning needs an hour a day to get through a maintenance clean of the house, and 3 hours once a week to work down any deep cleaning that's built up. Which is....already three more hours than I actually have each week. So I guess I'll make a plan to work in the garden for 20-40min of 4 of my free hours each week.
It really doesn't leave me any wiggle room. Only about 4 hours a week that isn't explicitly allotted to something that needs doing, which means there will probably me a lot of weeks where I only get an hour or so at best across the whole thing for free time. I guess I've had a hard time accepting that at this point, having actual time for myself or a time-intensive project is only available if I've taken a day off work. I love my job, but it's ... not comfortable to realize that it's the only love in my life I actually have time for anymore.
I think that's probably why I end up here so much. It's this mindless little way of zoning out into my own head, dissociating away from the exhaustion, for a few minutes at a time. I keep thinking I want to use this space differently, make it more if the things I enjoy. But I think what I really want is just to actually have the time and energy to do things I love that take work. I keep crying a few times every day and I couldn't figure out why, but like
I dunno
Why **wouldn't** I cry a little every day? It's the closest I'm getting to actual emotional release or relaxation in my life. We'd probably all cry. Heck. A lot of us probably DO, capitalism being what it is.
I guess I'm starting to wonder why I'm doing what I'm doing. What is there left for me to sacrifice to this life? What is actually serving me about not just letting myself go up like a fireball and take my surroundings with me? What in the ever loving fuck am I fighting this hard for?
All I ever want, all I want now, is to be able to live. To really, actually live. How does wanting to live bring you this close to killing yourself, whether on accident or on purpose? What am I actually doing that is LIVING and what am I doing that is FACILITATION of living? It can't all be facilitation, or I'm not actually facilitating fuck all.
I'm 30 goddamn years old and I need to figure out what it looks like to actually love my life. I fundamentally refuse to zombify myself like this for everyone else around me forever.
#i really wanted to believe that if i just sat down and did the math i'd be able to figure it out.#but there is literally not enough time in the day for me to do all this.#i suppose i could sleep less. it's...not great for me to get less than 9 hrs a day#but i could probably pull it off for brief stints#a week on a week off or something#get an extra two hours a day that way#and then of course there's my old go to#i could just stop eating or taking care of myself#lord knows it's my well-being that restri ts my time more than anything else#and if i work myself to death like mom did instead of committing suicide at least the life insurance pays out#in case anyone gives wifey inheritance trouble#i already don't eat until dinner so that part won't give me a TON of extra time#but an hour a day at the end of the night to write does sound lovely so it might be worth it#on the weeks i sleep less i could use my 2 extra hours a day to do ingredient prep so that wifey's food doesn't go to waste as much#maybe even work on the garden and the yard's facilities a bit. i have a few projects that need time and attention so those'd fot in#if i cut my pain meds too i could put an extra $50/week back in my budget and i could use that for project supplies and emergency funds#god even thinking about this is making me so tired.#i don't know what this will leave of me#i've been doing this so long now#feels like the last time i remember having a consistent hour to myself every day was my BA sophomore year#and that was the first time too lmao#i'd spent high school waking up at 3am every day after going to bed at 12am because I needed to do my hw in the mornings#my bus left at 7:30am and i had to do all my paper assignments - make myself lunch for the day - wash dishes/tidy the kitchen - and THEN#i could finally make sure i had my shit together for the bus and maybe nap for 5min#then i didn't get home from school until 4pm and i had to fix the kitchen from whatever my parents did before i got back#then make dinner for the family#then clean the living room from whatever the pets had dome all day#then take the dog for her nightly walk and take a shower#and usually sometime after dinner around 9pm I would get permission to run to my room and try to get a head start on my hw before 11pm#that was my lights out curfew so it gave me a blessed single guaranteed hour to do something for me.....assuming i could stay conscious
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