#small problems series

[sketchytychou]

Hi! I just really wanted to let you know that I’ve loved your Small Problem series for so long now. I’ve read it three different times and it’s always stuck with me.

Each part of the series stands alone so well, I hope this message doesn’t make you feel like you have to finish it or whatever, I just truly think it is such a good story and frankly am fascinated that I technically grew up reading it.

Thank you so much for your kind words! I'm glad this story has touched people, made them feel or inspired them to create. I too wish it was finished LOL. Maybe one day. If the fire ever hits me again, I intend to tackle it with the heat of 1,000 suns and finish that monster. Thank you again for the lovely note!

[daeyumi]

✨⭐️ Essence of Divinity 🌟✨💫

[Cycle of the Stars au]

[swagging-back-to]

worst trope is found family separating as soon as the antagonist is dealt with.

[chipistrate]

People really need to give Steel Wool a break sometimes, man- They messed up with Security Breach and now people act like EVERYTHING wrong with modern fnaf is all exclusively their fault when it's really not.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I am liking Jujutsu Kaisen, way more than I imagined I would, but I foresee it will let me down and it's keeping me from enjoying this as much as I could haha

I think the characters and dynamics are well set, and I think many of them have an incredibly good and deep potential, but I would be willing to bet they'll not get a proper development, enough for them to really hit. A well assembled set of gears is not enough to make the movement go, you have to wind the clockwork.

I think Gojo and Megumi have a fascinating and very complex dynamic, but I doubt it will be given the time and care that imo it needs to actually work. And it is going well enough for now! One could see the intimacy between them was deeper than the one Gojo had with, say, Yuji and Nobara ever since the very first few episodes despite the fact Fushiguro too was a first year. But the pieces forming what they have are extremely complex, and it just wouldn't be realistic if it doesn't show, even if in a not showing way, or if it doesn't have consequences or implications.

It's one of those dynamics that shape one's life, the way one regards the world, the way one establishes or not relationships with other people. It's one of those dynamics that could be full of fondness, gratitude, resentment, admiration, trust, and that imply intimacy, the good kind or the bad, even if in just the knowledge of someone who's been a constant through your life. It could, and would, imply a myriad of feelings, and probably in such a mix it could imply contradictory feelings too. Even the nothingness would weight, even the nothingness would be significant and meaningful.

Gojo took Megumi and his sister under his wing, the son of a man who murdered him, because of both selfish and selfless reasons. Megumi looks like Toji. What does Gojo feel about this? How does Gojo deal with this? How does Gojo go about taking care of Megumi? Would he walk him to school? Make him breakfast? Celebrate his birthdays making him blow candles? Did he take him to the zoo? Does the relationship between them feel professional or is it something more? Gojo appreciates his students, but is Megumi to him just another student? When Gojo faces Sukuna in Megumi's body, did he see the kid he raised, or does he just see Sukuna in one of his students' body? Did he have one faint wavering instant? And how does Megumi feel about this? Is he resentful of him? Resentful of the situation? Of the selfishness behind his actions? Does he feel like a pawn? Is he grateful? Does he resent feeling grateful? Would he rather not? Does he love Gojo? Does he feel nothing about him other than what he could feel about a teacher that sort of annoys him but knows he's reliable in his strength? Does he think it unfair, cruel or unfeeling that Gojo is close, closer perhaps, with Yuuji or Yuta, considering their story? When Sukuna slices Gojo in two, does the remnants of Megumi's soul tremble?

And not just Megumi and Gojo. Yuuji and Nanami, Gojo and Nanami, Yuuji and Fushiguro, Nobara and the boys, or Nobara and Maki, Todo and Yuuji or Yuta, Gojo and Yuta, Megumi and his sister. Gojo and Geto, even! If the pieces are well set, the dynamics are intriguing, interesting, and have potential to be deep, but then the characters have like two plot relevant scenes that punch you hard, but little more, it's not nearly enough. Especially not nearly enough for the enormity that is shonen dynamics and situations. And the potential existing at all, and then not delivering, makes it all the more frustrating when you're left with something mediocre that could have been so good.

The development of dynamics through not only a few plot relevant gut wrenching moving scenes, but also the smallness of life, is important. The friend who recommended this to me said that those things were just unnecessary filler, but I disagree. I think there's a big difference between a large amount of anime-only filler episodes whose existence is based on the fact they had run out of manga chapters to animate, and moments of quietness. The low stakes character-driven moments of quietness can be so telling and so insightful, and they are so satisfactory when brought back later in higher stakes situations. My friend teased me there was no scene of Gojo making breakfast to Megumi, that it would be an idiotic idea, but it would be so telling. How he makes breakfast, what they eat, if he tries hard or if it's all mechanised, if they have personal bowls or if they use whatever, if he just buys them some pastry on the way to school, if the way they have breakfast changes through the years, or if he doesn't make them breakfast at all! All that would be very insightful on their dynamic and its evolution. All that would give a glimpse on how they regard each other and why, even in the present. All that could become meaningful in tense situations and high stakes scenes.

These moments also let the plot breath; if a lot is happening all the time, if every character is always experiencing trauma after trauma, the entire story is so emotionally draining that at some point you don't even care all that much. Besides, these nothing moments or low stakes plot arcs, besides deepening and developing dynamics, also let some in-world time pass, which would make the intimacy and bond between characters more believable imo; between Yuuji eating Sukuna's finger and their last confrontation in December how much time has passed? A few months? Am I truly to believe these characters are so everything to each other in only a few months?

Without some smallness, some repetition, some daily life, some low stakes not plot-centric development, the dynamics don't hit, they don't truly feel fleshed out, and dynamics as complex as the ones Megumi and Gojo have, or as supposedly meaningful as the one Megumi has with Yuuji or his sister, should be fleshed out if they're going to exist at all. Otherwise they'd risk making the writing feel awkward and fake. Besides, if the dynamics felt well fleshed out and realistic, they would shape the way the characters interact and act, and how they deal with situations, thus being plot relevant.

The shonen genre has so much happening all the time, the stakes are so high, the dynamics are so rooted in big events and the relationships carry enormous weight and implications. Yet they barely get developed, and it feels so stupid, so plain, the absence of something so important noticeable like a constant void, a shapeless nothingness present in every scene. It makes the characters feel like cardboard figures. Jujutsu Kaisen is already getting a better job than many, but I doubt it will do enough for what I've heard, and I fear I am bound to feel let down, and bound to feel unmoved.

After all, if not enough time and care has been given to develop a dynamic, I am not going to feel pressured by the high stakes; if not enough time and care has been given to develop the dynamic between Megumi and Yuuji, as good potential as it has I am bound to feel little for this last confrontation between Sukuna and Itadori, and his effort in getting Megumi back.

[smallearthboundfindings]

[Image Source]

Hello, backstory enthusiasts, and welcome to the ...

George and Maria Special! tm

As you might, remember, George and Maria are an integral part of Mother 1's plot, arguably the reason the entire trilogy takes place, and yet, we don't know much about them, do we?

Well lucky you, because the Mother Encyclopedia goes way more into detail than the game ever did and I'm going to summarize it so you don't have to!

Open up for the complete story of the two that started it all. I'll try to state it in chronological order.

As our original tale begins in the early 1900s, so does ours. Thus begins... the timeline.

George, orphaned young and then fresh out of high school, takes up a job as a letter-boy for a prominent paper in the "big city" (city unspecified), later being promoted to journalist.

After writing a large expose on the president, he rises to fame but also falls into conflict with the chief editor that leads him to break off on his own and move to Mother's Day/Podunk on the whim of a Help Wanted ad in its daily newspaper, The Mother's Day Times (presumably alternatively The Podunk Times), where he was hired as the editor-in-chief for a novelization of the town's history.

(Note: I will be using the EarthBound Beginnings location names from now on for simplicity.)

Upon his first arrival in Podunk, the first person he met was Maria as she sketched a carnation bed, her illustrations later being chosen to appear in George's piece. This would later lead into their marriage.

From there on out, they lived rather peacefully, with Maria often playing piano concerts to the town's children alongside George, until a dark cloud appeared around Mount Itoi's summit and people went missing en masse to later return with complete amnesia of whatever happened to them. (Not to mention the flying furniture ensuing as well.)

George, being the journalist that he was, however, saw this as a scoop and started an investigative report. While having no luck with any clues, he would publish what little he did find. And immediately fell missing alongside Maria as well. Ironic.

Two years, later, only George returned, visibly aged to become a recluse, dropping his work on the newspaper to focus on studying PSI.

... Maria never returned.

Thus, the events described in-game continue from here as another black cloud strikes back. Mother 1 has begun.

[archersgoon]

theres this bit in main series where abian's like celie's being reckless bc she's worried as fuck about froi & obviously you can make the argument that this is yet another misunderstanding of celie but i think the implication in main series and ferragost is that abian has the highest immunity to that problem so you'd think she'd be at least partially correct. but then you read ferragost. and celie does not give a fuckkkkk about that boy. like he's mia in charyn & she's like oh haha yeah my brothers back home (including him). which makes sense in the context of dialogue but it's the same internally

[shallanspren]

the problem with adapting beartown (and the other two books) is that so much is lost when translated to film. there is so much internal dialogue and conflict. anyone adapting it needs to be willing to put in the extra work of showing how deep the different relationships go.

and tbh, the hbo adaptation did not do that. maya and ana barely interact. kevin and benji are perhaps the most deeply bonded characters in that first book. it's why benji choosing to side with maya (which he does without having to hear amat confess to what he saw i might add) feels like such a betrayal.

benji and kevin are best friends. soulmate level, one might say. benji is in love with kevin. but benji sides with kevin's accuser without question. he believes maya.

it's because benji knows kevin best that he knows that kevin is capable of rape.

you need all the internal drama, the deep facets of every relationship to fully get the story. it fails in its messaging without it

[kelpiemomma]

It was a knock at the door that pulled Ingo out of a deep slumber.

It was not frantic, not a sound that had him leaping out of his bed in a panic, but it was firm. Insistent. It compelled him to emerge from the warm comfort of his blankets, piled and wrapped atop of a straw bed to block the chill of the night, and to the thin wooden door blocking the chill and snow. He stumbled in the dark, tripping over smoothed wood and catching himself on the wall of the hut. His hand grasped the coat he’d hung up before crawling into bed and he pulled it down, wrapping it around himself like a protective cloak. Still with no light, and no real thought process beyond answer the door, Ingo pulled it open.

“How may I-” he began the sentence through a yawn, cut off midway by the sight before him.

The ground was lit by the moon in the sky, bright enough that Ingo could clearly see the person who had woken him up. It was impossible to determine an immediate gender so Ingo didn’t even bother to try. Whoever they were had long hair, a light gold that nearly appeared white in the moonlight. They had a long, stern nose with a flat bridge. Their gaze was flat and serious, lips thin as they stared down - very, very far down - at Ingo. At full height Ingo was a few inches taller than those around him within the village, but this person made him feel like a child. If his head came up to their chest he would be surprised. They were dressed in what appeared to be an old-fashioned white robe, the wind carrying across the valley lifting it gently before placing it back down as though it was the most delicate fabric. Intricate golden details laced the trim. Perhaps it was the sleep but it seemed to Ingo’s mind that the trim was… moving. One moment he thought there was a sun rising over a valley, and in the next it seemed to be some sort of battle between two pokemon. Hands appeared and disappeared, a wave of appraisal and worship before sinking down into a wave.

Rubbing his eyes to clear the odd sight - and upon second glance, the delicate lace no longer slipped through design - Ingo took a second look. Their height had not decreased at all but he was able to notice something new. Something that, somehow, he had missed in his awed staring. The person’s arms were wrapped around their chest in a cradling position. A blanket, the color of which he’d never seen before, was swaddled tightly. Though the hold was confident there was also a looseness to it that sent alarm bells ringing through Ingo’s mind, waking him up further. As he opened his mouth to speak the bundle moved, a tiny fist raising itself from the blanket and pounding on the person’s chest. Barely a moment later, a piercing cry erupted from the blanket as well. The stranger did not blink. They barely seemed to notice the noise at all. Their hooded green gaze had not left Ingo’s face.

“Is that- are you carrying a child? Are you hurt? Are they hurt? Here, please- come inside, I’ll get a fire started! It’s awfully cold tonight; a baby shouldn’t be out in this weather.” Ingo reached out impulsively, grasping for a sleeve and ending up with an arm ful of wailing baby. He pulled the child close to his chest in surprise, looking down into light eyes full of tears. The infant hiccuped through their tears, arm waving furiously. He grasped the limb gently to protect his own face only for his hand to be pulled down towards the babe’s face. They immediately began gnawing on his fingers, the wail dying gradually as they found something to occupy themself. The cold was forgotten.

Something clicked into place.

“Warden Ingo,” the person before him finally spoke, pulling Ingo’s gaze reluctantly away from the baby, “I leave her to you.”

“I’m sorry? I’m- I’m not a Warden? I'm just- a guest. Why are you- are you leaving? Are you leaving your child behind?” Anger rose in his chest. Was this infant being abandoned? Directly into his arms?!

“She was never meant to join this world. She was not part of my plan. I heard the world cry and there she was.”

“Do you need help? If you can’t raise her on your own you may join the village, I’m sure. They would be willing to take in a parent in need!”

“I am not her parent. I brought her into existence but she is not mine. She never has been and never will be.” There was a darkness in the person’s eyes, a bitter sort of anger laying under those words. They were sharp, pointed enough that the baby wiggled in Ingo’s arms and let out a high-pitched whine. Immediately he rubbed their - her? - cheek, the whine slipping into a gurgle. His fingers were pulled and tugged on until the baby managed to slip a fingertip into their mouth, chewing on his limb. Ingo’s gaze never left the person’s before him, though they finally dared to look away from him. Their flat expression became something like a sneer as they looked down before it was schooled into disinterest once again.

“As you were never meant to be here either, I leave her to you. I would bid that you take care not to lose her and do not tell others where she came from.” The person slid their hands into their sleeves, the gold filigree flashing blindingly bright as the sleeves made contact. Ingo turned away to block his and the child’s eyes. “Not even I know where she may end up next time.”

When the light faded and Ingo could look again the person was gone. He took several steps forward, looking around to try and see where they had vanished to, but not even the snow gave a hint at what direction the person had gone in. Only the moon looked down at Ingo, the light solemn and soft. He turned his gaze to the infant in his arms; cheeks were being carelessly bitten by the wind and turning red, eyes wrinkled up in discomfort and watery, but his finger remained chewed on. Despite the infant’s abandonment, they didn’t appear disturbed. In fact they appeared… content. As the chill nipped insistently at Ingo’s bare feet, driving him back into his hut to pull the door shut, so did the baby’s eyes. They let out a gurgling noise, grip tightening on Ingo’s fingers, and then they began to snore.

Ingo rubbed his face, trudging back towards his bed. There were things he needed to do and yet- something pushed him towards the blankets. He pushed them to the side, keeping the infant in one hand while removing his long coat. Using it and a blanket he created a nest to cradle the little one in. As he set the child inside, covering them with one of his sleeves, they sighed in what he could have mistaken for content. One chubby fist grabbed the wristband of his coat while the other migrated to the infant’s mouth, thumb settling into place as though it belonged there. Half awake and half aware, Ingo prepared his own blankets upon his straw bed. He put the infant between himself and the wall, and then hesitated before moving them between himself and the opening of the room. Then he hesitated again- the wall would be colder, but perhaps safer, right? If the baby was facing the room it might roll out of the blankets and fall off the bed. It wasn’t a long drop by any means, but still! He swapped the child to the other side once again, wrapping another blanket around and over the nest, and then laid there.

What had just happened? Where had the baby’s parent gone? They had said they weren’t, but where else could it have come from? Had it been stolen?

Despite his concern that these thoughts would keep him awake, another force pulled Ingo’s eyelids down and he drifted off to sleep.

It was a knock at the door that pulled Ingo out of slumber.

The sound was quick and heavy, quickly joined by a voice.

“Mr Ingo! Are you awake?”

It was not so much a genuine question as much as it was a wakeup call. One that he was used to at this point. Several months among the Pearl Clan had helped him come to understand not only their language but their habits- he was needed, and so they were waking him.

Sunlight warmed the wooden floor as Ingo slipped out from under his blankets and padded across the floor. His head felt fuzzy and he felt a little confused; his jacket was not hanging up where he had put it the night before and there was a small snowdrift on one side of the door. He looked at it curiously, trying to figure out where it had come from, as he opened the door.

Irida stood before him, her gaze slightly narrowed and her brows drawn tight. Rather than angry he could see the stress in her expression, the way she held herself. He wondered what had happened.

“Good morning, Miss Irida.” ingo said. “How may I be of help?”

“Mr Ingo, it’s almost afternoon. We had a large amount of snowfall last night and need your help. Since you’re an early riser we thought you had already gone out- are you ill to have slept so long?” She asked. “We can’t have anyone else getting sick not so soon after the last wave!”

Ingo blinked, shaking his head and raising a hand. He had arrived, lost and freezing, to the Pearl Clan at the tail end of a lingering sickness. Though he had been cold he had also been healthy and immediately stepped in to help the recovering clan; distrustful members had warily guided the confused man around the territory to gather berries and check game. They doubted his memory loss but couldn’t afford to deny his aid. To many he had been a necessary evil. To some, he still was. To Irida, who was still young but in the running to lead the clan, he was a goal.

“I apologize, Miss Irida. I woke up last night after having a very strange dream. It must have taken me a while to fall asleep, if I indeed slept until noon. I will get ready to help.”

He went to close the door so he could dress, sighing out, “the moon was so bright it seemed to be daylight.”

Irida shot him a look.

“Mr Ingo, there was no moon at all last night.” She stated. “It’s why we didn’t see the amount of snow until this morning, despite the watch.”

Ingo froze.

“No,” he said slowly, “no, there very much was a moon. In fact, there was a person as well. They-”

From his bed came a piercing wail. Ingo froze and Irida jumped.

“Mr Ingo,” she said after a moment of listening to the crying child, “is that a baby?”

Pulled out of his panic by her words Ingo rushed to pick the child up. A terrible smell greeted his nose as he removed the baby from the nest of blankets and coat.

“There was a moon,” he said as he stared at the crying child, “it was full and bright, and-”

“Moon later, baby now.” Irida said, taking the infant from his hands. She paused, and then glared at him. “Baby explanation later, baby cleanup now. Where do you keep your changing supplies?”

“She was a… a gift,” Ingo replied dumbly; somehow it felt like the right description, “I have nothing.”

Irida stared at him in complete confusion and irritation before she sighed.

“Baby explanation later, finding the baby new nappies and…. ergh, new clothes now.” She exited his hut with the wailing child. As if pulled by a string Ingo followed, barely slipping his shoes on before stumbling into the soft snow that had yet to be cleared from in front of his home. He ignored the stares as Irida marched - baby held in front of her like a shield - to the home of Calaba. The old Warden was opening the door before they were within ten feet of the house, watching them approach with barely concealed displeasure. She allowed them in with pursed lips and the shake of her head.

Ingo dreaded to know what she was thinking.

As he watched Irida strip the infant to clean her, all the while narrating what she was doing as if Ingo was paying that much attention, one set of words caught his ear.

“I’m sorry, Miss Irida, I am- I am a little… a little off course. Could you please repeat yourself?”

She shot him an irritated glare over her shoulder. This one was truly angry with him; he would be sure to get an earful later. Though she was mostly fair she was also a hot-headed young woman determined to become the next lead of the clan. It was possible this had just hurt her chances.

“I said, Mr Ingo, what’s her name?”

“Her name?” He repeated, “I- I don’t know. They… she didn’t come with a name.”

“They normally don’t,” Calaba snapped from behind him, “which is why their parents give them one. She may be a little young for a name yet- she doesn’t look that old. You moved awfully quick Mr Ingo.” Her tone left no room for doubt- she believed that he had impregnated someone and left them, only for them to return the favor and deposit the baby on his doorstep.

“Warden Calaba, she’s not mine. Someone- someone stopped by last night, in the full moon, and gave her to me. Surely one of the watch noticed them!” He turned to her in an attempt to defend himself. Calaba snorted and crossed her arms.

“It was a new moon, Mr Ingo. There was no light at all. Perhaps you made your own light- did you track someone down and take their child?”

“I would never! That is- that is a horrible thing to insinuate, Warden Calaba, regardless of your affection or lack thereof for me! There were no footprints outside my door, were there? I couldn’t have gone anywhere!” He spun to face Irida. She was tying a new diaper onto the baby, ignoring the wails in her ears.

“With the amount of snowfall last night, footsteps would’ve disappeared quickly Mr Ingo.” She answered sorrowfully. She was loathe to agree with Warden Calaba and her harsh tongue.

“Do you believe I stole this child?” Ingo demanded of her.

Irida finished wrapping the infant, handing her back to Ingo. Only once she was in his arms, face buried in his chest as she gripped his tunic tightly with chubby fists, did she quiet. WIth her wails ceased the silence prevailed in the room as Ingo stared at Irida, who looked between himself and Calaba. If the warden didn’t like her, her chances of achieving leadership would drop even further.

“No,” Irida finally said, “in all the time you’ve been here, you haven’t come off as that sort of person, regardless of how others have seen you. But the baby-”

“I don’t know where she came from. I awoke to a knock at my door last night and someone gave her to me. They did not introduce themselves, only told me not to lose her, and then they left. I thought it was a dream until she began to cry after soiling herself.” Ingo said firmly. He turned to look at Calaba as he spoke, meeting her impassive gaze firmly. There was a tense moment until she grunted and looked away.

“So a mystery person dropped a baby onto a stranger’s lap.” She muttered.

“I’ll organize a search party,” Irida said, “a couple. If they were around last night then they must be nearby- the snow was falling much too heavy and quickly for them to have gotten far.”

Ingo understood the insinuation- they were, most likely, looking for a corpse.

“Until then… we should find her a home with a wetnurse, and-” Irida went to take the child from Ingo despite having just deposited her back into his arms. He tightened his grip just as Irida’s hands clasped onto her sides. Feeling the other touch the baby began to scream. Irida immediately stepped back, covering her ears, while Ingo turned away and rocked from side to side. She quieted after a few moments, gurgling quietly against his chest once more. Ingo and Irida looked at each other. She reached out to take the baby again. Ingo didn’t tighten his grasp this time, slightly holding her away from him, but as soon as Irida touched her she opened her mouth to scream once more.

Irida stepped back, expression turning to confusion. “She won’t let me take her.” She said.

Calaba scoffed.

“She’s an infant. Give her here, she’ll quiet down if you just hold her a moment.” She demanded.

Ingo reluctantly handed the baby over. Just like with Irida, as soon as Calaba had a hold of her she began to shriek her displeasure. Calaba pulled her close and began to rock her as Ingo had, but as the minutes passed on the shrieking turned to sobs. Like the night before the baby raised her fists, pounding on Calaba’s chest to express her displeasure. One of them must have nailed the older woman well because she let out a surprised breath, her arms’ hold weakening momentarily. Ingo was there in a heartbeat, reaching out to take hold of the girl.

Once she was back in his arms she began to grow quiet, wrapping a hand in his tunic as her sobs turned to crying, turning to whines that quieted into hiccuping breaths as he rocked her. Her teary eyes met his gaze with an unexpected intensity. She held onto his tunic in a way that, were she an adult, Ingo would believe to be some desperation. Don’t let me go, she seemed to be begging, don’t let them take me away!

I won’t, Ingo thought back, I won’t let them take you. I promise.

“Well,” Irida said after a moment, “I believe that she wishes to stay with Ingo.”

“Hmph. She’ll still need a wetnurse unless he’s hiding milk behind that tunic.” Calaba said the words dismissively. “He’ll also need to learn how to change her, and get her clothes, and-”

“Akari.” Ingo said, breaking the sentence.

“Who? We don’t have an Akari in the village. Is that her mother?” Irida asked, approaching. She kept a distance from the baby, preparing to step back in case the screaming started once more. Wrapped in Ingo’s arms the baby met her gaze placidly.

“No. It’s… her. Her name.” Ingo trailed a finger from the girl’s forehead, where small wisps of dark hair were already threatening to fall in her face, down over her nose. She smiled and giggled, wrapping a hand around Ingo’s finger and shaking it. Ingo couldn’t help but think she must feel excited.

“Her name is Akari.”

[bonefall]

I’d be REALLY wary of that idea. I know it’s not your intention but no matter how you slice it that creates a scenario where some cats are genetically superior and more civilised than others based on where they’re from, which I feel is bad even if they happen to be nice to kittypets. Really love your work but maybe consider how you’d handle that one !!

Yeah, that's exactly the reason why I tacked the big old "THIS IS NOT IN THE REWRITE" warning onto the front of it lmao.

It also creates a situation where the Clans have an actual, unfortunate REAL justification for cat eugenics, which would mix very, very badly even in situations where there is no Clan/Housecat conflict. Unless it was completely dominant and always passed on but... you see how it's already an uncomfortable idea I'd have to tack on a bunch of bandaids to.

Sometimes a thought remains just a thought exactly because you end up thinking through its implications, y'know?

[dawntheduckrb]

They put me downstairs at work :(

All thumb healing progress was undone in one evening apparently. It actually felt mostly fine on Sunday, until after work. They put me in an area I'm rarely sent to on Sunday evening, and I had to do a ton of heavy lifting. My arms are sore but it's like a post-exercise soreness (painful, but still very normal). My thumb felt fine allllllll day today, until I started to draw. Even with breaks, it still feels super tense, and now it's hurting even when I'm not using it. I'm gonna take that as a sign to stop for the night lol

I have one drawing I want to finish before school starts back up, because I'm worried it'll distract me if I don't have it done before then. Of course, if my hand prevents from finishing it, I'll manage, but that'd suck :')

On a lighter tone I feel very strongly about this cat in a blanket I found, I don't know why it amuses me so much but it's such a mood

[themyscirah]

Was thinking about how I would write a Suicide Squad book if I got the chance to post (hypothetical) Absolute Power and like... I would totally rock this guys

Won't go totally into it here I don't think because time and also feeling pumped about the idea so may write something for it (which I have an AWFUL track record for finishing, but also if current Waller appearances piss me off enough who knows) but anyways it would have Amanda Waller and Ben Turner (Bronze Tiger) as dueteragonists, (especially for the first few arcs, although moving to a greater Waller focus [at least for a bit] around issue 10? 15? When she really starts to do things). Anyways the main story (at least at the beginning) would follow Ben Turner as he leads the squad both in the field and at home (essentially acting as the "Waller" along with his normal field leader duties) while secretly having Waller herself in residence at Belle Reve pretending to be a prisoner.

Early issues would focus on Ben saving the world (and keeping the squad in check) while also struggling to hide Waller from the government, heroes, and the rest of Belle Reve (save an accomplice or two). This of course works great, until it doesn't

[cepheusgalaxy]

im just gonna block the "atla", "atla netflix", "atla show" and "avatar the last airbender" in advance real quick

[what-aboutno]

If you're wondering what the wriochiluc collection timeline looks like it's basically wrioluc but they never date. A short bit of wriochi when Childe was in prison. A lot of chiluc sorting out their problems, then sorting out their feelings for Wriothesley and then finally we have wriochiluc

[citrine-elephant]

is there a symbolism behind the dog in resident evil 4? or wolf, unsure if they're a dog or a wolf.

leon comes across as very doglike. very much a cat personality, but doglike in his loyalty. it's kinda hard to explain, but i've seen others for sure point it out.

it just seems like the ability to rescue a dog and that dog coming back to help leon reflects strongly with ada rescuing leon and him coming back to help her.

or am i looking too deep into this?

[ananas-pineapple-thing]

climbs back onto the stage to continue a two day old post. also people hating rachel bc she’s rich suck bro she’s 15 what do u want her to do 😭 rr likes writing rich people with helicopters it’s not her fault