#maybe a liiiittle bit of a vent but not really. . .

[snufflepup]

Why is your attention on anything else other than me ? Am I not good enough ? What do I need to do to catch it. To keep it. To make you only look at me.

[chain-unchained]

September 6

Another Friday, another long trip into Zuzu City. It really wasn’t that bad if Shane was having a good day, or even a decent one, but the trip was hell if he was struggling. This was especially true for today; the whole night, his back had been repeatedly and painfully spasming, meaning sleep was pretty much out of the picture. When he mentioned it to his therapist, they suggested that it was possibly due to his depression, and said that if it continued or got any worse to call and they’d work on either upping the dosage on his medication or trying a different one to see if that helped.

But that didn’t really do anything for him now, and he was really dragging his feet along as he finally got back into town. ‘Ugh, I just want to go to bed.’He thought, rubbing his face with a yawn. Stepping onto the path that lead both to Ashe’s farm and towards town, he paused. ‘… I know I should at least drop by and say hey to him, but I don’t know if I’ve got it in me…’

After some intense contemplation, he moved his hands to the small of his back and pressed against it as he arched backwards, trying to pop his spine in the hopes that it would ease the pain a little. As much as he didn’t feel up to it, and as much as he could hear his bed calling to him all the way from home, Ashe deserved at least a little bit of his time that day. It wouldn’t be fair to him otherwise, and there was a good chance that just being around that happy go lucky doofus would put Shane in a slightly better mood.

It was frustrating that such simple things as visiting his cute as fuck boyfriend still took so much effort. Some days it felt like he was really getting his life together, and then he’d have a shitty day like this one and it felt like he was back to square one. At the very least, he hadn’t had another relapse; that had to account for something, surely.

 “Brush, brush, brush the knots out~” Ashe sang cheerily, running a coarse-haired brush through the mane of his newest family member—a beautiful bay gelding he’d named Silva. “Who has the prettiest mane in the valley? You do~”

Silva snorted and stamped her front right hoof into the dirt with a flick of her tail. She was still a young mare, full of energy and plenty of attitude, and she hadn’t quite decided if she liked Ashe or not yet.

“C’mon, don’t you snort at me like that.” Ashe moved to brush her tail, and as if to test his reaction, Silva kicked one of her hind legs as he got near them. “Whoa—hey now, was that really necessary?” He looked to her face, and she innocently turned away with a flick of her head and a whinny. “I know getting your hair brushed isn’t fun, but you don’t want to get mats, do you? So just settle down and—”

He went to brush her again, very narrowly avoiding another kick from the fiesty mare. “Jeez! That one almost got me!” He fumed, puffing his cheeks out as planted his hands on his hips. “What’s gotten into you? Are you just in a bad mood today?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say I am.” Shane joked, making Ashe jump a little from the unexpected sound of his voice. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.”

“You scared me…” Ashe let out a breath as he turned to face the taller man, smiling happily despite his racing heart. “I’m happy you came to see me though~” After a moment, the smile began to fade. “Are you having a rough day?”

Shane sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah… it’s just one of those days. My back was killing me last night so I didn’t get any sleep, and it hasn’t stopped hurting all day. In fact, it’s probably gotten worse…”

Slowly he reached out to Ashe, gently taking hold of his upper arms as he rested his forehead against the shorter teen’s shoulder. “Are things always gonna be this hard…?” He murmured, asking no one in particular, squeezing Ashe’s arms slightly in frustration. “…. Sorry… I’m just… so tired of having to try so hard just to function like a normal person. It’s exhausting.”

Seeing Shane like that, it was all Ashe could do to bring his hands up and slowly run his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “I’m sorry that today’s been so hard.” He said softly, wanting to offer at least some small comfort to him. “… Would a massage help at all?”

“Nah… I’ll be alright. I just needed to vent a little—” As Shane spoke, he attempted to straighten up, and a pain sharp enough to steal his breath away shot up his back; agonized, his hands unconsciously gripped Ashe’s arms tight enough to hurt, though just for a moment. “… Actually, I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Smiling sympathetically, Ashe slid his hands down Shane’s arms and took hold of his, gently pulling him towards the porch; he sat his boyfriend down on the steps and moved to sit behind him, ever so slightly nervous since he’d never really given a massage to anyone before, much less the person he was dating. Unsure of how much pressure he should use, but having seen just how much Shane’s back was bothering him, he went in rather forcefully, pushing his fingers into the muscles in Shane’s back. Instantly, Shane went rigid, letting out a sharp hiss of pain, and Ashe immediately pulled his hands back, eyes wide. “Ah—s-sorry! That… that hurt a lot, didn’t it?”

“I-It’s fine…” Shane hunched over and planted his hands on his knees for support, trying to get his breath back; after a few seconds, he looked over his shoulder to Ashe with a pained half-grin. “Maybe just a little gentler this time, chikadee.”

‘Ch… chikadee…?’ Ashe felt his cheeks heat up at the nickname. “O-Okay.” He shifted closer and put his hands on Shane’s back again, this time using much less pressure as he worked his fingers in a circular sort of motion. The muscles in his back were so tense and rigid that the pressure still drew a hiss from Shane, and he paused again, his brows furrowing together; glancing back at him, Shane shook his head and gave him a feeble thumbs up to continue this time, turning back around and letting out a sigh as Ashe began to move his hands again.  “D-Does it still hurt?”

“Only a bit.” Shane closed his eyes and let his head droop forward. “… Hey, chikadee? Can you go a little lower?” He asked, and of course Ashe was happy to do so. “…. Little lower…. Liiiittle lower…”  He visibly jolted as Ashe’s fingers started kneading that ‘magic’ spot. It was the spot on his back that was easily the most tense, and Ashe could feel the knot in the muscles. “Fffff… stay right there.”

For several minutes, Ashe steadily worked away at that one spot, slowly feeling it loosen beneath his fingertips; he kind of wondered if this actually felt good or not, but Shane had stopped making those little winces and hisses of pain, so at least it seemed like it didn’t hurt—at least not as much, anyway. “Is this helping at all?” He asked hesitantly. “….. Shane?”

“ZzzzZZzzz….” It had helped more than he’d realized; Shane was out like a light, finally at ease enough for his exhaustion to win him over.

“….” Ashe smiled and shifted closer, gently pulling the snoozing man back to rest against him and folding his arms around him. “You dork…” He murmured, pressing a shy kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead. “Sleep as long as you want….”

 It was only ten or fifteen minutes before Shane came to with a quiet snort, forcing his eyes open with no small amount of difficulty to find himself gazing up at Ashe’s smiling face. “Ah, shit… sorry, I didn’t mean to doze off like that.” He apologized, embarrassed. “I… wasn’t out for too long, was I?”

“Mm, not really.” Ashe loosely wrapped his arms around Shane’s neck, his hands resting against the man’s chest. “Probably fifteen minutes or so. I guess the massage helped~”

“Yeah, it did.” Shane moved his hands to gently hold onto Ashe’s arms. He was always surprised by how stick-thin they were, even with all the strenuous farmwork that Ashe did day in and day out. But it still felt nice to be held by them like this, to feel the warmth of his boyfriend against him. “… Hey. C’mere for a sec.”

“Hm?” Curious, Ashe leaned down a bit; Shane reached his hand up to gently cup his face, shifting to sit up enough to press their lips together. It was only the second time they’d kissed like this, and Ashe could feel his heart skipping several beats in his chest as he closed his eyes and pressed into it. With the same ease as the first time, Shane’s tongue slipped into his mouth, gently rubbing against his and eliciting a faint shudder from the farmer. Back in Shane’s hey-day as a gridball player, he’d gotten around quite a few times, and even though it had been years and years since he’d last been with someone, he still remembered a few tricks he’d learned in those days.

He remembered also not to overdo it for the sake of romance, pulling back after just a few short seconds to gaze up at Ashe’s flushed face. “Thank you, Ashe.” He murmured, brushing his thumb against those pink-tinted cheeks. “Not just for the massage, but just… for everything.” In that moment, he was glad that he decided to suck it up and come say hello. “…. I really need to get going. Jas and Marnie are probably wondering where my ass is.”

“Oh!” As Shane reluctantly got to his feet, Ashe clapped his hands together excitedly. “I can give you a ride there if you want. Just let me get the cart hooked up to Silva and—”

Shane glanced over to the fiesty mare, who had wandered over to some of the bushes surrounding the farm and was contentedly munching away on one. “Chikadee, I dunno how I feel about you riding her just yet.” He admitted, a knot of anxiety forming in the pit of his stomach at the thought of Ashe getting bucked off. He’d had his reservations about Marnie selling her to him in the first place, since even Marnie—who in her youth had won more than a few horseback riding competitions—had trouble dealing with her. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can handle walking. You don’t mind me cutting through your farm though, right?”

“Ah, no that’s fine, but…” Ashe’s brows knitted together. “Are you sure?”

“Ashe,” Shane turned to face him with a serious expression on his face, “when I got here, that horse nearly kicked you. I’m not hurting that bad that I’d want to risk your safety like that.” He could tell that even despite what he was saying, Ashe simply didn’t get that Silva’s behavior was dangerous. “…. Promise me that you won’t try to ride her until she mellows out. Okay?”

That wasn’t something that Ashe was excited to hear; he’d gotten Silva so that he could ride her, after all. “…. Okay.” He conceded reluctantly, even though he really felt in his heart that Silva wouldn’t ever actually hurt him. “I promise.”

“Thank you.” Shane leaned close and pressed a kiss to the top of Ashe’s head. “I’ll see you tomorrow... Oh, before I forget. Make sure you don’t make any plans for the 21st next month.”

It was such an odd request out of nowhere. “Oh-kay…. Why though?”

“You’ll figure it out.” For some reason, Shane wasn’t even surprised that Ashe didn’t remember what the 21st was. “Okay, I’m going. For real this time.” He made his tired legs carry him towards home, before he could think of another reason to linger at Ashe’s side; as much as he enjoyed being there, he was so tired…

  It was a sign of the passing seasons that by the time he’d gotten back to the ranch, the sun was already halfway hidden below the horizon. During the summer when he’d come home from therapy, it had barely even started its descent, and there were still several hours of daylight left. But now it was already becoming dark out, which meant that soon his walks to and from the ranch, both to work and to therapy, were going to start to suck. Especially if it was raining… He groaned just thinking about it.

“I’m home…” He called as he let himself in. The plan was to spend a good… five minutes or so with Jas, or however long he could manage, then go and sit in the shower for however long the hot water lasted, and then go to bed and fucking pray that he could actually get some sleep that night.

He heard the rapid pitter-patter of Jas’ shoes against the floor as the girl raced from her bedroom. “Shaaaaane!” She cried out happily, jumping up and tightly hugging him with no knowledge of his sore back. “I missed you!”

“Oof—” Using every ounce of willpower he had to repress the yelp of pain that rose up in his throat, Shane caught his goddaughter so she didn’t fall. “Hey there, squirt. I missed you too.” Honestly, he should have expected that kind of greeting, since it was how she’d reacted to him coming home for the last week or so. He didn’t know why, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Guess what, guess what!” Jas bounced up and down in his arms, barely able to contain her excitement. She didn’t even give him a chance to answer before she proudly told him ‘what’. “My report card came today, and I got straight A’s again!”

“Wha—no way.” Shane pretended to be staggered by the announcement. “Again? I guess that means I owe you 50g, huh?” He set the girl on her feet and made a big show of pulling out his wallet to pull out her ‘good grade allowance’, his fatigue and discomfort eased a little by the pride he felt at her repeated accomplishments, and the fact that he actually could save up now to give it to her. “That was the real reason you were excited that I’m home, isn’t it?”

“Nooooo!” Jas giggled and held out her hand expectantly as Shane plonked five shiny gold coins onto it. “I was excited because I love you~”

Shane paused as she gave him that heart-melting smile of hers; after several seconds, he pulled out two more and added them to the others. “I love you too, squirt.” He answered with a smile as she hugged him again. He kind of both loved and hated that she knew how to play him like that. His back throbbed painfully a moment later, reminding him that as much as he wanted to spend the evening with her, it just wasn’t something he was up to doing that night. “Hey, Jas? I know we always have our special time together when I come home, but… do you remember what I told you, about me sometimes needing to be alone for a little while?”

Hearing that, Jas was immediately distracted from the shiny coins in her hand. “Are you having a bad day?” She asked, looking up to her godfather with worry written on her face.  

“Kind of.” Shane put his hand on top of her head. “I think tonight, I just need to be by myself. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow, though. Okay?”

He expected to see her little face fall with disappointment at those words, but to his surprise, Jas just nodded her head in understanding. “Okay~” She agreed with a smile. “I hope you feel better.” She gave him another hug and headed back to her room to play with her dolls. “Night night~”

“Uh…. Night, kiddo.” Shane watched her go off, slowly rubbing the back of his neck. Jas had taken that way better than he’d expected her to. ‘Yoba, she’s growing up so fast.’ He thought, letting out a slow breath as he stiffly made his way to his room. ‘I’m just glad that I’m not missing any of it now…’

[softened-hearts]

This isnt really an ask sorry i just have to complain for a bit and since youre my main source of mcr tour updates i figured i complain here. anyways i keep seeing all these fun outfits gerard wears and im like. i was at the bologna concert in june and he just wore plain clothes and im so mad im so jealous. why didnt he cry blood at my concert. why wasnt he a nurse at my concert. he just wore a plain shirt and jeans whats up with that. makes me feel like i wasnt even part of this tour because i didnt get a fun outfit. TO BE CLEAR im not genuinely upset by that but also apparently i am just a liiiittle bit. also im really tired so maybe thats why i had to vent. ok im done now bye

first of all i'm really sorry, i can totally get how you feel alienated from the fan base from the rest of the tour :( at least he's still really pretty in jeans and a t-shirt though!! and his stage presence is always awesome!! i looked up your show and it had a sick setlist too c: tbh im jealous you got to see "thank you for the venom", detroit missed out on that one!! (it was one of the songs i wanted to see most live TwT)

also followup i legit got so excited getting this..... like. i'm someone's main blog for mcr tour stuff?? for mcr? i am being perceived!! wrt mcr!!!! i am very much a hermit irl so the fact my blog has an impact on anyone (especially relating to mcr) is like. WROW. (i didn't wanna lead with it tho bc i didn't wanna trivialize your vent!!)

[lumen-tellus]

been kinda thinking Again (rip) about what kinda Cool Things my nephilim ocs can do

the short ver. has me deciding the following:

it is officially certain - as far as my own ability to be certain about anything tbh - that Sylvia has a god damn broken ability to “bring possibilities into existence” aka kinda extreme reality warping except it cant make the impossible happen. i think? i think?? i honestly have no fucking clue im probs still gonna tweak this later

the long ver. has me rambling this bs instead:

ok so, i said i was thinking about Cool Things that my nephilim ocs can do, but i mean Specific Cool Things. 

bc all of em have the base ability to affect reality as they like - theyre just limited in terms of physical-mental capability and their individual........ i guess, aptitudes? bc sure technically they could do ANYTHING if they took the time to study and try, but otherwise, there are just some things they’re already kinda naturally inclined to in a sense ww

this is a bit of a toughie to do because i dont have a few nephilim ocs alone... ive got. a bunch. be it canon-ish ones or ocs that are nephilim in my stupid ass indulgent AUs lmaooooo

so, im gonna list em out for a sec wwwwwwww:

Origin Branch---Lilithud: has the two twin sisters, one still unnamed, the other going by Maud for now.

Main Branch---Circletti: theres Evan, Ange, May, and Sylvia.

Alternate Branch---Diana: theres Claude and [Spoilers]

Descendant/AU Branch---Xiao: only applicable to another one of my countless indulgent af daydreams based on my Dreamland project, but yeah. Yulia gets to join this tragic dysfunctional mess too when i feel like it!!!!!!!!! lol

so!!!

of these charas, ive got like. only two charas totally figured out. everyone else is ?????????? tbh rip

for now, im putting aside the Lilithud, Diana and AU Xiao branch aside bc those. arent. super big priorities? like i sure as fuck want to figure em out now over later but lmao it can wait a liiiittle bit, i guess ww.

(tho i get the feeling Maud and her sister has some form of shitty or perfect immortality but it feels like a haphazard assignment right now wwwww)

that leaves the Circlettis!!!!!!! yay!!!!!

so, Evan and May are totally certain for me. (note how i dont say i figured them out, which is different. i still have no idea how their powers work at times.) Evan gets the sick ability to endlessly, automatically regenerate his existence when his soul gets damaged, resulting in occasionally defective immortality, while May gets the pointless ability to freely tamper with her own soul without repercussions - which has resulted in her ability to astral project with potential complete disregard for space-time barriers.

now. Ange and Sylvia. rippy. so far with them, ive got a....... uhhh............. something????? lots of. wild ideas really lol

i honestly have no idea what Ange’s specific deal is. like, the only notable things ive figured out for her is that she unconsciously and unintentionally affects the god damn weather in the local vicinity when her emotions are intense enough - which has led me to another hc that when her emotions are at peak intensity, similarly, she causes a burst of energy somewhere around her as she unconsciously and unintentionally tries to vent her emotions. this latter hc has thus resulted in Ange experiencing a couple of confusing, small-scale but explosive accidents such as suddenly broken windows, broken furniture, mirrors cracking, lightbulbs exploding, sudden electrical outages, small fires erupting outa nowhere, thunder and lightning rumbling in the sky when there isnt a single cloud in sight, so on and so forth.

like, honestly, all of this just points to Ange needing to learn how to fucking express her emotions better instead of god damn bottling them all up like a dumb dumb!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! rippy.

it also points to an ability to manipulate energy, but. like. that kinda already comes under the base ability of affecting reality maybe so like. idk?? rippy.

so, here we are, moving to Sylvia. im still not 100% sure on her either. i mean, i could give her something based on Ange but im not even sure on Ange’s deal so rip. also looking at Evan and his two daughters who dont seem to have a shred of his auto-immortality business, i mean, Sylvia could totally have some aptitude or ability related to the ones her family members possess, but its also p clear from my own lazy worldbuilding that it doesnt necessarily need to be so. wwwwwwwwwwwwwww

notable hcs for Sylvia that could kiiiinda point to whatever her deal is - well. tbh, i dont have any hcs. i do however have a FUCK TON OF WILD INDULGENT DAYDREAM IDEAS lmaoooo

long ago, i. drew a super shitty comic thing that was supposed to evoke an ambiguous ending of whether Sylvia is a master at fooling her own mind via self-induced illusions and pseudo-amnesia - or a master at fooling her own mind via being a master at constructing the world and people around her into existence. somehow. SOMETHING like that, essentially, i think. this comic is diddy fucking darn old and idr where it is right now rippy

i also have a dumb ridiculous AU where Sylvia has a nice imaginary friend called Lilia except this friend isn’t quite imaginary. shes imaginary in the sense that she isnt supposed to exist - at all, like, were she to be born and thus existing, the world would need to make some darn major changes to accommodate her. however, just for the sake of this AU, there is nonetheless a possibility she could have existed, had the world indeed been different enough that she could have been born. as such, in that way, shes not an imaginary existence but a possible existence. so in this AU, Sylvia somehow “grasped the possibility that is an existence called Lilia” and “brought this existence into reality” - note, tho, that Sylvia doesnt change the entire darn world in order to do this, she literally just makes Lila exist, poof, there we go, just like that. It Just Fucking Happens.

and Lila isnt a blank slate when this happens. Lilia has all her memories of having existed - except shes an existence in a reality that simply didnt happen. its partly bc of this and partly bc Sylvia was a mere smol child when it happened, that Lilia ended up manifesting as a spirit attached to Sylvia. which is why she ends up being an imaginary friend to her, since she can disappear at will from most people’s sight, and she isnt tangible for Sylvia to acknowledge really ripppyyy.

(theres also the REAAAALLY dumb meta sense of how Lilia is also imaginary bcs shes based on that long ago crack child of two of sylphie’s ocs that i made up as a really lame joke back then ripppppppppppppppyyyyy)

additionally, in my much underdeveloped Evanescence Project - ive been toying with the idea that one of the charas that appears in it is a personified embodiment of all the possibilities Sylvia could turn out to be - or the embodiment of the abstract concept of a descendant, tho that latter thought is a little too wild so im frankly thinking of tossing that one out rippy. (theres also the more recent idea of this chara just being an AU ver. of Sylvia but......... lmao, its so recent, thats literally all ive got; the bud of a possible new idea ww.)

ESSENTIALLY THO, all these fuck damn wild ass ideas so far point to the veeeeery generalized idea of possibilities, and granting these possibilities form and genuine existence in reality.

so. perhaps. maybe?? Sylvia might have the cool nephilim-y power to make possibilities into reality. 

the rules i suppose for this tho would be:

the possibility in question needs to have a chance to actually exist. Sylvia can’t bring into reality something that has a 0% chance of existing, because they just don’t exist so there’s nothing to bring into reality to begin with. as such, i suppose, Sylvia’s power isn’t to ‘make’ or ‘create’ possibilities in reality but to simply manifest what could be or have been; think of it as kinda like borrowing a book straight from the storage of a library. The library represents reality, with the books outside of the storage being events, people, worlds, existences that do indeed exist in the now. the books in the storage reflect events, people, worlds, existences that may or will exist in the near or far future---aka, being new books that might or will get put out on the library shelves at some point---or have already come to pass but for some reason were ‘ovewritten’ into non-existence---aka, being old books that were on the shelves but were then pulled down and taken to storage and left there to gather dust or something. (i guess this explanation sounds more like an explanation on how store stocking works but fuck it ive wrote this much already im too tired to fix it rip) 

the library analogy is nonsense in places, tbh - so if you think thats dumb, maybe the infinite monkey theorem will work instead? bc i just thought of that, and maybe that theorem will work as a better analogy?

for those who dont know: the infinite monkey theorem describes the hypothetical idea of a monkey given a typewriter, who will proceed to type for an infinite amount of time in an infinite amount of combinations. ultimately, the theorem states that this monkey will have eventually typed out a whole work of Shakespeare, if not ALL of his works - but the chances of this happening even within an infinite duration of time are really fucking low---but not zero. as such, simply, Sylvia’s powers work in accordance to the theorem - it can manifest literally any possibility, so long as there is a chance of it existing at all. however, as the monkey’s typewriter uses the english alphabet, it can only type english pieces; it can’t suddenly type in god damn chinese. similarly, Sylvia’s powers are confined to any possibility, but they need to have the chance of existing to begin with.

essentially, Sylvia can’t use her power to manifest events, people, worlds, existences that didn’t or don’t exist in the past, present, or future AT ALL. what she wants to manifest has to be a plausible existence; the subject itself will exist, exists, existed - or the conditions that can allow the subject to exist will exist, exists, existed.

so Sylvia can’t use her powers to bring into existence a person born on planet Earth who inhales carbon dioxide and exhales oxygen with our planet’s present history of biological development, bc that kind of person literally does not fucking exist. the only way this kind of person could exist is if said person had some kinda power or trait that allowed them to do just that, or arent even human ww---in which case, they really could exist, and thus Sylvia could do her magic lol. as you can see, as such, Sylvia’s supposed ability here will require her to be REALLY FUCKING PRECISE or else its either gonna do Nothing orrrrrr Bring Out Something Or Someone That She Didn’t Intended To Bring Out At All Because She Wasn’t Being Damn Specific Enough About What Or Who She Wanted Rip. 

another rule btw is that the actual effort to bring a possibility into reality scales with how complex it is. a small trinket wouldnt break any sweat, but a person would be much more difficult for sure. theoretically, with this power, a whole world could possibly be brought into existence, but that is probably gonna require a LOOOOOOOT of fucking mastery and mental concentration or something, if it isn’t outright impossible bc of how taxing or just plain difficult it would be to construct an entire damn planet or something really

ANYWAY YEAH THATS. P MUCH IT?? i cant fucking think tbh. remind me to add a section on how this power works with parallel worlds or something later maybe jksakudhaukhakds my head is spinning into fucking circles ashkhakuhk

[stripestheboar]

Liiiittle bit of a vent, so excuse me. No important information. Just me exhausting my frustrations, and unfortunately, frustration is my weakness. Too much of it and it destroys me from the inside.

So.

Now I remember why I quit drawing a couple years back. I was never good at it, and yeah I know “practice makes perfect”, and I practice regularly. Despite my frustrations, I’m getting better. I’m improving inch by inch. Following tutorials and finding examples from other amazing artists are very helpful.

But still.

The artist is their own worst critic.

I start off excited and eager, listening to music as I have the image in my head. I feel confident. I’m ready.

I start drawing. I draw. I draw and I draw, and at first, I genuinely feel like I’m creating art that displays weeks of constant practice. I’m eager to finish it and post it and see the reactions of my followers.

I finish it up, look back over it, and… well… I’m sure anyone who’s been an artist knows what this feels like. I barely need to explain. It just… looks wrong. Everything I thought I was doing right has turned out to be a disaster in my own eyes.

And so comes the erasing. The redrawing begins to take forever as each stroke is now ugly and doesn’t fit into place. Before long, a few hours have passed and I barely have anything down because it just doesn’t look right, but I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I have the image in my head, but I can’t seem to get it down.

Frustration sets in slowly, at a rate to where I can’t even recognize I’m getting aggravated over the imperfections of my own hand. All the music I love has become annoying and unlistenable, and I don’t know what else to put on because I’m not in the mood anymore. Drawing in silence, however, sounds like hell, so I bear through it. I get that pit in my stomach as I get more irritated, though I’m not angry at the art, but instead myself for not being able to work out something as simple as the shape of a face.

Eventually, I realize the state I’m putting myself in, and have to force myself away. I feel humiliated I wasted four hours on something so small and yet so ugly. Ugly to me, anyways. Nothing I can think of makes me feel better, so I just sit in silence and start writing. It’s the only thing that can bring me out of my foul mood.

Despite my frustrations, I tell myself I’ll get better. I look back at some of my earliest writings and remind myself I only came this far and with this passion through practice. Lots and lots of practice. I tell myself to get over it and try again tomorrow. Maybe it won’t look so bad when I wake up.

No matter what, I repeat myself that I get better with each day and with more and more practice. I think back to what I had learned through practicing. I learned how to make Papyrus now looks thinner than the other characters and I’m finally gettinng his teeth down. I’m able to finally get Undyne to stand in a confident-looking pose and how to make her look smug. I think I’ve gotten Frisk’ hair to look right. Hands have become easier to work with. I just need a good pose of me doing something with my hands as a reference and it becomes easier to work with.

I think about the things I need to work on. I need to work on drawing Frisk and Chara’s clothes, I still need to be able to get Alphys’ glasses just right. San’ skull needs more work. I’ve gotten Undyne’s body down, but I can’t get her face right; I have the same problem with Firsk, who is either too thin or too thick. I’ve established a shading style, but I need to work on how I shade and lighten hair. The heads are almost always gigantic in size, so I have to work on proportions, especially with arm length as well. I still need to work on hair at different angles.

I need to practice.

Writing all this down makes that pit in my stomach disappear, and I’m thankful for anyone who has taken the time to read this.

Sometimes I think about quitting and just going back to only writing, but then I think of the people who follow me for a reason, and I find the confidence fo pick my tablet up again the next day and get back to drawing.

Thanks for your support. Many of you don’t talk to me or interact with me, but just the fact that you take the time to look through my writing and my random shitposts and occassional pissy attitude is enough to make me feel giddy inside. I really appreciate you all; you’re my motivation.

Who knows, maybe I’ll post some of my imporovements. Depends on how I feel about them, or if anyone even wants to see them.

I feel better. But right now, I need to get back to writing. It makes me feel better.

[couriertraush]

Meant to type up these plot notes ages ago. After Silt played DM, I asked about a swapped AU where Larkin is dragged off to the Madre and Ryker is chewed on and left for dead in the bunker, and she made a comment about Larkin Not Wanting To Talk About It, and a few scenes put themselves together in my head. This is rambling meta rather than writing, though.

Friendly reminder that a description and short drabble of the opposite scenario exists (confession, Silt’s reply on that fic is one of my fav ever, anyWAY;;)

So the scenario is Ryker injured, Larkin dragged to Sierra Madre, no rescue party. Dog says he ate Ryker, and nobody can confirm that didn’t happen, so Larkin has to accept that might be the truth. Elijah and Dog do not make it out alive.

So Ryker spent the week or two mostly at courier base, being treated and recovering. She lost her right arm completely and had her shoulder and side injured. She doesn’t think Larkin is dead because she never saw a body, but the couriers are trying not to get her hopes up. Most of Larkin’s things were stripped and left by the bunker entrance, which isn’t promising. Ryker is pretty pissy that there’s no mass search efforts despite having no leads as to where she might be (other than the Madre, which no one knows the location of, so). Being at the base is really Not Fun for anyone.

I’m on the fence about whether Larkin would go to base or bunker first, but the latter is appealing because it’s the last place she saw Ryker and she’d get to witness the dried blood that nobody bothered to clean up. No body wouldn’t really be a red flag since Dog said he ate her. All their personal effects were taken to base, though, so she’s gotta go there for supplies at the very least.

She’s never one to start off with hostility, but her friendly demeanor is on some pretty thin ice when she gets to base. There’s a few pertinent questions that’ll determine her exact reaction: 1. Do they know what happened? 2. Did they ever try to come help either of them? 3. What did they do with any remains? To some degree, help when they get in over their heads is part of the reason the twins are in the faction to begin with. It’s not really fair to expect them to put their own necks on the line by coming to the Madre, and they definitely walked into that trap on their own, but I suppose losing a twin doesn’t really put one in the most generous state of mind.

They’re genuinely surprised to see Larkin alive, which she kinda shrugs off like “:) I sure am.” “Where were you?” and “Are you okay?” come up, but Larkin’s not about to launch into a story for them. She’s getting a water out of the fridge (it was a long walk) when Wyn makes some offhand comment, like “Ryker is never going to stop saying ‘told you so’“ or “Maybe this’ll ease Ryker out of volcano territory,” and Larkin freezes for just a second as the implication sinks in. She manages to still be remarkably composed as she pivots and says “She’s in back, then?” and kind of hurry-walks to the bedroom.

Ryker is half-sulking, half-sleeping in the medical cot with her back to the door, and Larkin reaches out to touch the top of the mound which unfortunately is her stub of a shoulder, but Ryker’s irritation is quickly eclipsed by her relief at seeing Larkin in one piece. (Bonus points if Wyn made the former comment and the first thing out of Ryker’s mouth is “I fucking told them!”) Ryker’s immediately talkative and moves her legs so Larkin can sit on the bed, and Larkin is more than happy to answer shorter questions or nod along while privately reeling at seeing her alive again.

I guess I can say from experience now that the stitched up wound would still hurt and make moving difficult less than two weeks later. But they’d still want that period of recovering in private, moving around to different hideaways or visiting Lake Meade with plenty of time to rest and relay their stories in private. I imagine Larkin’s in a better state healthwise than Ryker would be in the mirror AU since Larkin isn’t as impulsive or reckless. (An aside, but I’ve always felt like it’s the better scenario for both of them - Ryker would adapt to a missing limb better than Larkin would and physical trauma doesn’t hound her like the psychological trauma of DM does.)

Larkin conveniently leaves out the part where she thought Ryker was dead, and in better circumstances Ryker would probably pick up on the more subtle cues, but she reads them as general concern for her wellbeing (which is technically true). And thus begins the vein of tension between the twins.

Ryker thinks she’s recovered long before she really is, and Larkin is extremely paranoid about losing Ryker - or just letting Ryker out of her sight long enough that she gets hurt. Which is fine for the first part of her recovery, since Ryker is also getting over separation anxiety and it’s convenient that she doesn’t have to actually say things like “hey so I don’t have the upper body strength to get this shirt off” before Larkin steps in to help. But once she’s feeling well enough to travel and - god forbid - carry packages, Ryker starts to feel peevish about the constant attention.

It crystallizes when they’re wandering off path a ways and Ryker steps within range of a mine. It’s SOP for her to just disarm it and keep it to sell, she’s pretty good with explosives, but Larkin panics (bombs, it just had to be bombs) and grabs her collar to yank her away. She shields most of Ryker with her own body, and her armor keeps her mostly safe, but it hurts and her ears are still ringing when Ryker is rounding on her with fury fueled by a mix of frustration and concern. “I know how to disarm a fucking frag mine!” “With one arm?” “It’s two wires!”

And for the next week, Ryker is constantly sore about being “babied.” They go for a swim in Lake Meade, and Larkin is clearly hovering, but Ryker keeps her mouth shut until her sister has the nerve to ask if she’s getting tired. “This is it for me, Larkin. My side is cramping and I’m going to drown in three foot deep water while you watch helplessly from a foot away.” They stop by base and Ryker asks for the biggest, heaviest package they’ve got while staring at Larkin.

And for the most part, Larkin just grins and acts like it doesn’t bother her. What’s she going to do, Talk About It? It’s not like Ryker is providing the opening even if she wanted to. Her temper is short too, but she’s acutely aware that if she pushes back too hard, Ryker might actually do something stupid. Like swim across Lake Meade just to prove that she can.

Other than Larkin snapping to a degree where Ryker Gets It, I imagine it’d take two or three conversations for the realization to work its way around to Ryker. Base is one of the few places Larkin feels okay leaving Ryker so they can get some time apart to cool off, and Wyn is one of the few people Ryker can tentatively call a friend, so the venting would probably be directed towards her before too long. (I suppose, luckily for Larkin, Wyn would take her side on most accounts re: Ryker pushing herself too hard.) The touching undertone I have written down is Ryker admitting that she’s being an ass, but she also knows that Larkin can handle the worst she has to dish out without being pushed away.

Wyn would be situated pretty well to be Ryker’s reality check while the topic is already up. Like... dude, she probably thought you were dead. I feel like Larkin’s initial reaction on her return to base would be a bit outwardly suspicious to begin with, but maybe Wyn had to prod in that direction before too; it’s a question Larkin wouldn’t have answered, but sometimes an evasion from a twin is answer enough. The suggestion would give Ryker pause and make her ask why, but the gears wouldn’t really get turning until later, when she’s with Larkin and something would’ve set her off, but she remembers the suggestion and clamps her mouth shut this time. Which is concerning to Larkin since Ryker hasn’t had an ounce of chill for the last week, but it’s hard to not appreciate the temporary peace.

Ryker brings it up out of the blue sometime when they’re both engaged in their own activity: Larkin a book which she’s giving about 20% effort into reading and Ryker some spare parts she insists on trying to manipulate with one hand. Just, good old blunt “Larkin, did you think I was dead? Cuz... that would explain a fucking lot.” The half-truth is “Didn’t know where y’were or what state you were in.” “But why ‘dead’?” Larkin is somewhere between wanting to play it off in the hopes of it being dropped permanently (”With your personality, it’s hard to believe everyone doesn’t want to kill you” or “When you didn’t come find me after a week, dead seemed like a strong contender”) and sending signals to stop prying in that direction because Ryker owes her at least that. And Ryker’s able to pick up on that, so she goes back to her fiddling for a minute before offering a very sincere “I’m sorry.” For not realizing earlier, and for being an over the top ass recently.

Which isn’t to say she’s not going to test her own limits and roll her eyes at Larkin’s hovering, but she better understands where she’s coming from. And maybe do a liiiittle more reading between the lines re: Larkin’s demeanor.