#you understand. you get me.

[the-valiant-valkyrie]

ok one person liked that post so you're all getting my in-depth puzzle analysis based off of jesse schell's metric of what makes a good puzzle, exclusively for the puzzles in ieytd1 because those are the only ones i've had the time to dissect.

First thing's first, before we talk about how well IEYTD1's puzzles have upheld the puzzle principles, we must understand what the puzzle principles are. In total, there are ten of them, some more self-explanatory than others:

 Make the Goal Easily Understood (Without a hunch as to how to even begin, a player will be hard pressed to spend the time solving your puzzle)

Make It Easy to Get Started (Even if you know what your goal is in the grand scheme, if you don't know the first steps to get there, you'll be at a roadblock the second you start)

Give a Sense of Progress (Your player may be on the right track, but without knowing that for certain, there's a risk of abandoning the path forward)

Give a Sense of Solvability (A puzzle should never be obtuse to the point of being obsolete. You're here to play a game with your player, not to stump them. You both want them to have fun)

Increase Difficulty Gradually (If you throw players into the deep end too quickly, they may end up backing out. Coax them gradually, build their confidence, and show them they can do this)

Parallelism Lets the Player Rest (If a player gets stuck on one puzzle, let them work on something else for a little while... If they have other things to do, they won't hit a roadblock as quickly)

Pyramid Structure Extends Interest (What's better than a linear narrative of puzzles? One, two, or even three solutions from prior puzzles coming together to solve one big finale!)

Hints Extend Interest (If a player can't solve a puzzle, don't expect them to keep ramming their head into a brick wall. Make sure they're being steered in the right direction)

Give the Answer! (Contrary to popular belief, it's not a bad idea to allow your player to have the answer- so long as you do it properly. They function similarly to clues, and can be important. Sometimes, the player may not know they have the answer at all up until they finally need it)

Perceptual Shifts Are a Double-Edged Sword (Consider any riddle that forces you to think outside the box. Where it may be satisfying to either solve or receive the answer, you either get it, or you don't. There is no chain of reason rather than a rule you must break to see the puzzle from the correct perspective. While fun in certain contexts, it is a huge gamble for a potential player)

Right. Now with our method of judgement out of the way (with our biases leaning towards Schell, considering he was the one to create the rules our puzzles must follow), lets get onto the missions themselves, and see which ones adequately follow and embrace the rules of the principles:

Friendly Skies

Easily understood goal

Easy to get started

Sense of solvability

Hints

Friendly Skies really is a great tutorial mission, if not a rather short one. But what’s probably its best attribute is its setting, believe it or not. Not being in a plane, but being in a car. Right off the bat, it hits not only one, but two of the 10 puzzle principles: It’s easily understood, and easy to start, and the two complement one another rather nicely. 

It’s highly unlikely that a player would have never set foot in a car before. It’s a familiar environment, and partnering that up with their objective (that being to steal the car without becoming a fatality), the gears begin turning in the player’s head before half a minute’s even passed. You have to steal the car. Okay. Key’s not in the ignition, so you have to find a way to turn it on. There’s only so many places you can look, and you- familiar with cars, of course- know exactly what each of those places are…

One of my favorite parts about this puzzle from a tutorial standpoint is not only the fact that it teaches the player the ideal thought process for engaging with puzzles in the series, but the actual location of the key is probably one of the last places you would be searching for one. Meaning that it’s likely the player is going to find all the clues they’re going to need later in the level before they actually progress to those sections of gameplay.

I have to say the same with the bomb manual hint- it doesn’t just allude to a future puzzle, but also to the sort of thought process that you’re going to have to use for the entire rest of the game. The game’s not just going to hand everything over to you for free. You have to really pay attention, make your own deductions, and if you don’t, you’re not always going to get the proper leeway to recover from it.

Another thing to note- on the subject of hints- is that the game goes out of their way to show you exactly what button you need to push to activate the grenade canons. What it doesn’t do is give you any way of figuring out what each of the other buttons do. In this level in particular, that’s not much of an issue, but in future missions I’ll touch on it more. 

As an introductory level, Friendly Skies is pretty smooth. Of course, though, there’s one notable gripe that I don’t even think I need to mention. That being the game prohibiting you from using the knife as a screwdriver. A conscious choice on the developers’ behalf- and if the handler’s lines didn’t make that obvious, they’ve mentioned it themselves on a few occasions. They were aware players would want to use the knife as a multipurpose tool, and directly disallowed it.

While I have no confirmation on the matter, I have to assume that they did this because they wanted the player to experience the toxic gas- either to teach them to take risks, or to show them that some hazards are less immediately lethal than others. Whatever the case, though, it comes at the consequence of teaching the player something that isn’t true: that levels have one concrete ‘solution’ that the player must stick with.  One of the things IEYTD is known for is their leniency with puzzles. Their speedruns and achievements encourage the player to experiment and find different methods of solving the same puzzles. So, while it’s not the worst decision in the world, I find it odd that they would choose to send such a misleading message about their gameplay mechanics in the tutorial level, of all stages. Beyond that, however, Friendly Skies is a great stage for easing new players into the gameplay, if not a bit flat in comparison to future missions.

Squeaky Clean

Sense of progress

Hints

Easily understood

Easy to get started

Sense of solvability

Difficulty of scaling

Squeaky Clean is certainly a bold jump forward from the tutorial, going from one of the shortest missions to one of the longest in the entire game. Out of all of Schell’s principles, its strongest one is the player’s sense of progress.

Nearly every time the player accomplishes something, the environment changes around them. And while it may not exactly correlate to what it is the player’s done, there’s still an innate sense of progression through the new obstacles. Broke the glass to the lab? Now you’ve got to deal with security systems. Got access to a new chemical? Better hope you can blend in, because you’ve been noticed by an operative. Even if the player isn’t certain on what their next course of action is, they still know they’ve made progress in some form or another.

I also have to say that the hints- while occasionally a little too indirect for some players- encourage thought and memorization. Especially by the means of giving the player one of the chemical reactions (the purple and green smoke bombs) before they’ve even touched anything. They can observe the compound, and if they mishandle it enough, see what the reaction is. If they cross compare it to their cheat sheets, it doesn’t take long to identify what each specific chemical is, and how to match up the ones on the periodic table to the formulas to create their own.

I will confess, though, that in many ways, Squeaky Clean is quite poorly constructed- especially for a second level. As aforementioned, the jump from Friendly Skies to here is quite immense; to the point where even spawning into the level might give the player some whiplash.

Squeaky Clean is neither easy to understand, nor easy to start, as opposed to its predecessor. Of course, no matter how well the player performed in high school chemistry, they’re not even going to know where to begin disarming a chemical bioweapon. It isn’t always bad game design for a player not to know how to solve a problem presented (more often than not, figuring that out is what the puzzle is supposed to be). But in a circumstance like this one, it can quickly become rather overwhelming.

What’s more, the player has gone from a closed off car with all the tools at their disposal, to a packed laboratory that’s completely unfamiliar to them. Even if, hypothetically, they were aware of how to make an antivirus, with so many new tools introduced at once, it’s hard to know which ones are relevant. Will they need to freeze chemicals? Will they need to burn them? How would they know which chemicals are safe to burn? Are there any other tools they need to uncover before they start? And what does that red button do? It’s good to get your player asking questions, but less so when they’re asking them all at once.

By far what has to be the biggest hurdle in this mission is its difficulty scaling. Both in regards to the level itself, and its position as the second level in the game. The lead up to the final puzzle is slow, cautious, methodical- and it has to be when you’re working with chemicals you haven’t even heard of before. But the climax of the mission throws all of that out the window when it introduces the player’s first timed puzzle.

There are many issues with this. There’s no build up to prepare the player for an encounter of that nature. On a first playthrough, there’s zero indication you’ll be remaking (or that you should be premaking) chemicals that you’ve already made until the timer’s already begun. And even beyond that, time trials introduce frantic behavior, which a level such as this one doesn’t benefit from. 

The player, in their haste to complete the objective, may accidentally put the wrong combination of chemicals into the mixer and blow themself up. They may create the wrong chemical compound, making a canister they don’t actually need. They may properly make the chemicals, but may destroy the vial on their way to use it. Not to mention, since you’re several stories in the air, if you accidentally drop it with that new telekinesis mechanic you’re getting used to, you’re not getting that thing back. And worst part of all, it’s at the very end of a mission. If you die- for whatever reason- it’s back to the very start. As great as it feels to actually succeed at the mission, players may never get that satisfaction if they build up too much tension from the trial and error. Even if- to a particular extent- trial and error is what the series is known for, it’s different when you know what to do, but circumstances beyond your control make that objective more difficult.

Deep Dive

Parallelism

Hints

Answer

Easily understood

Difficulty scaling

Deep Dive is notorious for being a cramped and uncompromising level, and those with claustrophobia tend not to rate it very highly. However, in regards to its puzzles, there are a variety of things it does very well. 

One of the highlights of this level in regards to the puzzle principles is its use of parallelism- and it’s the first puzzle in the game to actually employ it. Though it’s only relevant for about the first quarter-to-half of the mission (depending on how quickly you can make it through everything else), the player is given free reign to handle a myriad of small tasks, complete with a checklist so they’re not left in the dark on what’s left to do. Much like the act of finding the key in Friendly Skies, this also acts to introduce the player to the shape and feel of the level, and the resources held within.

This is also one of the earliest examples of the player receiving an answer to a puzzle- granted, it’s in a roundabout way of needing to piece it together themself. While the grenade hint is far more ambiguous, relying on resourcefulness and not moving too hastily, the self-destruct code serves to test the player’s competency under pressure. Despite presenting the player with the answer, the puzzle itself isn’t made much easier. 

Though speaking of competency under pressure, it’s what the entire level is known for. And despite that being the theme for that particular mission as a whole, it doesn’t change the fact that its difficulty scaling is less than desirable. Ironically enough, it suffers the exact opposite issue that Squeaky Clean did. Whereas the previous mission was slow and steady up until the last possible moment, Deep Dive keeps a brutal tempo pretty much all the way through, with no chance to breathe until the mission’s over. 

The game takes some initiative to alleviate the actual input the player needs to do (for instance, implying that the player specifically needs a pin to neutralize Zor’s grenade, thereby making the fire extinguisher unlocked and primed by the time it needs to be used), but- same as the last level- it can very easily lead to trial and error as the player hacks away at each individual malfunction, having reacted too slowly to understand what to do in the time they were provided. The challenge of the mission comes from being quick on your feet, but there’s only so many things a player can keep in their head all at once.

Also, while it’s not necessarily the biggest issue to be found in the stage, I find myself fascinated with the way that it’s presented in the introductory briefing. Certainly it was meant to tie back in with the motif of unexpected change of plans, but it’s the first time a mission briefing doesn’t at all aid with the puzzle the player will be facing. The escape pods are mentioned by your handler, true, but very briefly, and with nothing good to say about them. So when the player enters the mission only to find themself exactly where they were told not to be, chances are they’re already at a loss as to how to handle the situation. To reference a specific principle on the list, players’ ease of understanding is likely to be low.

Thankfully, the game does a good job at combating this potential paralysis spot by specifically giving the player a list of tasks to complete. And while this helps, the player is doing them because they have no other plan of attack, instead of in accordance to (or in spite of) a potential strategy. I would even argue that the wording of the briefing could have made the onboarding a little easier to understand. Say, if the player was warned that the escape pods are often tampered with, or that one wrong course of action could lead to a mouthful of saltwater. It still communicates the same feeling of dread, but now the player has things to look out for. I should make sure there aren’t any traps in here. I need to make sure I’m ready for any leaks. Instead, the player is left at the bottom of the ocean with the pre-instilled knowledge that they’re going to die any second. And while that’s probably true, it doesn’t make puzzle solving (or puzzle identifying) any more intuitive.

Winter Break

Sense of progress

Parallelism

Pyramid structure

Hints

In regards to well crafted and engaging levels, Winter Break just about knocks it out of the park. Ironically enough for being just about halfway in the game, it’s probably one of the most methodical levels sans the tutorial itself. But that doesn’t mean that it isn’t still exciting, or any less well constructed than the others. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Similar to Deep Dive, Winter Break has a heavy emphasis on parallelism. However, unlike the previous level, the amount of tasks that the player is able to complete at one time is vastly increased. This greatly helps with the pacing of the level; the more things the player is able to do at any given time, the less likely it is they’ll be sitting around, butting their head against one specific thing.

This specific puzzle format also introduces an elusive principle yet to be discussed: pyramid structure. The climax of the mission can only be unveiled once the player has found the security chip, and the Zoraxis orb, a process comprising of four separate puzzles the player can tackle at their leisure. Though a casual player may not even realize the leeway they’re given, there’s a greater sense of reward that comes from all of their actions leading to one high stakes encounter.

The hints in this level come in a wide variety, from diagrams on sheets of paper, to clues hidden within picture frames, to secrets unveiled through the classic art of bookshelf scouring. An important thing to note though, beyond the ways in which the hints are given to the player, is the order. More specifically, all hints that focus around the final objective are locked in the same location as those two key items. Even if the player doesn’t understand their importance initially, by the time they actually need to put that knowledge to use, they’ve already primed their minds with the information they need.

The ebb and flow of the difficulty is to be greatly admired as well. Working in tandem with the parallel puzzle solving, it keeps the player at a comfortable pace the whole time, riding the line between peaceful downtime and engaging action moments. Winter Break’s traps are also noticeably more readable than some of the prior missions’.

The bear archer’s method of attacking leaves plenty of room for the player to identify the hazard and react accordingly, and in regards to the final act’s lasers, the player is given ample time to study their speed and direction before it becomes an immediate threat. Not to mention the lasers only activate upon destabilizing the first crystal, ensuring the player knows what’s expected of them before the situation gets dicey. Even the deer gas feels more like a puzzle to solve than a hazard to evade, seeing as a player would only recognize it as a key to a lock after a thorough examination of its diagram.

Overall, Winter Break manages to be cohesive, readable, engaging, and exciting, without sacrificing player experience in the same way some prior levels did. As it stands, it’s probably one of- if not the best constructed level in the entire first game.

First Class

Difficulty scaling

Easily understood

Answer

Hints

Sense of solvability

First Class was Schell’s first level post IEYTD1’s official release, and the team intended to go in a far more experimental direction than their previous missions. Though they accomplished the task on numerous levels, their puzzle implementation was equally as unusual, and not always in the best of ways.

If there’s anything the mission can be commended on, it’s the difficulty scaling. By this point in the game, players are well equipped to handle most threats that come their way. While the mission doesn’t pull any punches, it has a pretty comfortable flow, working its way up from slow and experimental deduction to pushing the limits of the player’s reaction times. While a surprising number of the puzzles in this stage have lethal consequences for failure, most of them still remain feasible and fair.

… Except for the birthday puzzle, anyways. It’s potentially the weakest puzzle in the entire series, all due to its surprising complexity. The game asks the player to keep track of three variables- the day of the week, the date of the month, and the number of the month itself. On top of that, they’re given nothing to help them keep track of the information they’re given. There’s no method of writing it down, and with a headset strapped to their face, counting on their fingers isn’t even an option at their disposal. The player only has three attempts to punch in the number correctly. And what’s worse, there’s no indication on whether the date needs to be arranged month-to-day, or vice versa.

It has the potential to be quite the frustrating roadblock, and certainly puts the game’s sense of solvability into question. The variety of feedback the player receives is far too slim for all the tasks they’re expected to perform. Even if the panels behind the numbers lit up for each unsuccessful attempt (yellow, perhaps, for a correct number in the wrong spot, and green for a correct guess) would at least take some strain off of the player’s shoulders. But by the time it takes to return to the puzzle, should the player have failed it before, they may have forgotten what combinations they previously tried.

This mission is also one of the slim few examples of an answer being presented in a way that isn’t exactly intuitive. Though phrased in a way that would imply it a clue, when the handler contacts you over intercom, he straight up gives you your first objective. Find clues to light up certain buttons in the panel on the wall. Seems simple enough on the face of it. But its usefulness as an answer can only get the player so far, if only because of one specific reason: it’s a spoken answer. 

In a perfect world, a player may find and open all four panels as soon as possible at their handler’s request. But what’s most likely the case is that a player will be quick to enter the most obvious code- the one etched into the phone casing, before promptly forgetting about the instructions all together. Which poses a significant issue as far as the defector’s request is concerned. At best, it takes stumbling into a new hint for the wall for the player to recall the buttons’ existence. At worst, they may tear the entire train car apart, seeking for the clue that they don’t even know they’re missing.

We must also take the opposite into consideration- what if the player is too obedient to the handler’s command. After all, he specifies four total doors… But two of the four possible hints could have been literally flung out the window by the player, with no indication of it being a bad course of action. It’s a strange case of revealing a little more than necessary- even for the standards of the answer- and the player may end up relying upon the advice, even to their own detriment. 

There’s also the context of the mission itself to touch upon, and the ease of understanding (or lack thereof) that comes with it. In a way, it’s similar to Deep Dive’s briefing; the context you’re given contrasts with the actual scenario at hand. While it becomes obvious rather quickly that you’re not on vacation, and while it doesn’t take too long for your handler to explain what he’d like you to do, halfway through the mission you end up… completing the objective. The remainder of the level is a gauntlet of Zoraxis operatives (and one spear wielding man), steadily ramping up in intensity. 

Though it’s not exactly a detriment to the level, there’s a heavy sense of sporadicness throughout the latter half of it. It feels less as though you’re playing the level, and more as if you’re outlasting it. It proves a fun challenge, though there leaves a strange sort of “Now what?” feeling in between obstacles that can make the pacing feel a little stilted. While it can be exhilarating to perfect after a bit of practice, an initial playthrough takes a bit of bobbing and weaving through the occasional pocket of confusion.

Seat of Power

Sense of progress

Hints

Difficulty scaling

For as late as it appears in the game, Seat of Power is one of the quicker missions the game has to offer, when it comes to repeated attempts. This doesn’t make it easy by any means- quite the contrary, most of the speed of a second playthrough comes from a thorough understanding of the mission’s mechanics.

The mission’s strongest puzzle principle would have to be its sense of progress. While future IEYTD titles would really push the boundaries of evolving setpieces, Seat of Power was a pretty good starting point. The world around you is snappily responsive to your meddling, and the further you probe at Zor’s head controls, more tools and mechanics reveal themselves to you.

And that isn’t even mentioning the way that the level’s NPCs react to your actions. While they serve as lethal puzzles in their own right, they also convey that the player is doing something right (or if not exactly right, then on the right track).

In many ways, this particular mission has some excellent hints. Between learning about Professor X-Ray, to being steered towards the conclusion that there’s one placard too many for the number of seats at the table, the reveal of the goggles sparks a sense of excitement as the pieces click together. Even if the player stumbles across the solution, the recollection of the hints gives them the same feeling of satisfaction, despite the fact that a puzzle wasn’t exactly ‘solved’, per say. 

However, in other ways, the hint system in Seat of Power is deeply flawed. The control panel you unveil rather early on in the level is a great example of this.

In order to solve the second wave of puzzles, the player is expected to experiment with the buttons at their disposal. While experimentation is hardly foreign to the series by this point, hidden within the control panel is one button that kills the player instantly, unless certain conditions are met. And what's more, there’s nothing in the level that would even vaguely point the player to that conclusion.

It’s made even more frustrating by the fact that the tools you need to avoid that death can only be found if you push the button to the right of it. I Expect You To Die was originally an English exclusive title. With that audience in mind, it seems rather obvious that players who would read text from left to right would also push buttons in the same order. For how much care the game seems to take to warn the players of the threats around them, this one being so haphazardly strewn in feels almost like an intentional kill.

Unlabeled buttons- if you can recall- had a similar presence in Friendly Skies. However, at least in that mission, buttons the player needed to know about were labeled, and optional buttons were left undisclosed. It would have been quite easy for the same premise to apply here, with the button that unlocks the gas mask being referenced in some sort of note floating about the office, or some text scratched on the side of the button panel, with the poison gas button left the same. Or vice versa, where the trap was clearly labeled, but the resource to defend oneself against it was up to the player to decide. 

In a level that hinges on the player pushing all the buttons at their disposal, it seems suboptimal to ‘train’ them into being wary of doing exactly what they’ve been asked to do. Oh, I probably shouldn’t push buttons when I don’t know what they do, the player might think. Which, while very true, doesn’t help much when they’re left with little other choice.

Of course, I don’t believe I can talk about Seat of Power without referencing the Madrid puzzle, either. While your handler states very bluntly in your briefing that you’re going to Madrid, expecting your player to hold onto key information for a level they haven’t even entered yet is quite a tall ask for any player. But even beyond that, the developers admitted that no one listens to the handler anyways.

To aid with this, they attempted to sprinkle in some Spanish themes in the set dressing to better set the tone. While this certainly helps to a certain extent, the people who it helps are those who can identify the culture they’re being presented with. In that regard, the puzzle becomes more akin to a trivia game, or a riddle, where a player needs context derived from outside of the experience in order to solve it. Generally not a very good practice in escape rooms, both in the real world, as well as virtual ones.

However, the other- perhaps far more pressing complication with the Madrid puzzle is assuming that the average person knows where Madrid is on a map. For the geographically uninclined, this is a very bold assumption to make. Thankfully, it’s not a mistake they repeat in their future installments.

Seat of Power is generally a very engaging level, once one can finally wrap their minds around the little quirks about it. It has a unique pacing system, and finally introduces the player to the concept of an overarching plot. It’s just that some of its decisions on puzzle mechanics seem a little half baked- especially this late into the game.

Death Engine

Easy to get started

Sense of progress

Hints

Answers

Easily understood

Death Engine was originally set to be the game’s final send off, and as a result, the developers didn’t want to pull any punches. It was players' final trial, and they would have to put all the skills they learned in their prior missions to the test. As a result, this particular mission throws threats at the player almost as quickly as it possibly can. But that doesn’t mean that the difficulty scaling is completely unfair. It scales at a rate proportional to most of the other missions; it simply starts a few degrees higher.

Deaths in Death Engine normally come quickly. There’s little room for the player to revert any errors that they make. The agent can’t just shake off an electrocution, or being bathed in radioactive waste. However, the very first threat they encounter (a setpiece threat, rather than something caused by the player’s actions) gives the player enough time to process what the issue is, and to react accordingly. It’s the most lenient hazard in the entire mission, but still sets the tone for the level going forward: dangers will be quick and uncompromising, and going forward, a lot more unforgiving.

Death Engine also waits until the player is well accustomed to their location and the tools at their disposal before they throw the next, far more lethal timed encounter at the player, in the form of Solaris’ direct radioactive assault. Though they also have the decency to warn the player ahead of time with vocal cues. Though the puzzles are meant to test the full extent of what the player’s learned, it doesn’t feel as though the game is throwing impossible odds at them.

Though, what may seem impossible to the player is the mechanisms of their space shuttle. At a passing glance, it seems incredibly overwhelming to have all of these tools at their disposal. However, the mission actually tackles the easy to start principle in a pretty ingenious way- one that Schell would take with them into their future installments.

Yes, the player has several dials and buttons and resources at their disposal, but after the laser’s backlash ripples through your shuttle, only some of them are actually functional. While this seems to only introduce problems to the player, it actually does them a great service: 

The player can only engage with one to two portions of the ship at a time- typically just one, as far as a first playthrough is concerned. True, the shuttle has a rather extensive list of information about all of its components and how they operate (a rather useful aid, and quite a good example of the answers principle coming into play again). But the hands-on experience of swapping power and seeing what new tools are unlocked is a far more effective method of communicating the rules of the stage to the player.

This use of fuse swapping also serves as another principle, in a roundabout sort of way. It communicates steady progression with each ‘fuse-specific’ puzzle solved. The gravity adjusting puzzle feels rewarding to complete in its own right, but there’s an extra sense of satisfaction that comes from ripping the fuse out of that section of the fusebox. I’m done with that, the player thinks to themself, onto something else, now.

Even Solaris aids in the player’s sense of progression to an extent, hurtling canisters of radioactive waste at them only after they’ve made a significant amount of progress. While it’s jarring to be given a new obstacle to face, a villain turning from cocky to antsy is just about the clearest tell there is that the player is making a good amount of progress. Not to mention the entire encounter turns into a (admittedly incredibly lethal) tutorial on how to actually use the shuttle’s external arm- something that will be critical to actually finishing the level. 

Death Engine was meant to serve as the player’s final hurdle; the ultimatum of their career as a field operative. While it’s by no means a cake walk on a first playthrough, its puzzles remain understandable and fair. While it’s unlikely the player will make it through the level completely unscathed, the difficulty doesn’t rest at a point where it overrides the sense of satisfaction they feel by the end of the mission, as well as the end of the entire game as a whole. For a grand finale, Death Engine serves its purpose rather expertly, setting the standard for the series’ subsequent final acts.

[fanaticalthings]

Bruce Wayne except he texts like an ominous boomer

wdym you can't tell if he's threatening them?

Based on this post by @mysterycitrus :)

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Bonus:

Happy birthday, Tim 🥰

[eydilily]

would you bite the hand that feeds you?

[bastardlybonkers]

i feel like not enough ppl are factoring in the cultural clash between laios and shuro and the many micro agressions shuro faced while being in their group. literally the name 'shuro' in itself is one

his name is toshiro 😭 lets also not forget that he has his own communication issues, in the opposite way that laios does- thats literally a factor in their argument, that his envy for laios's ability to express himself sincerely manifested as part of his distaste for him.

ig all this to say like, was their fight heart wrenching, especially when reading laios as autistic? absolutely. anybody whos ever been in laios's position knows how much it hurts to realize someone you thought was your friend doesnt actually like having you around, especially when they didnt tell you and you had no way of knowing due to not understanding their cues. but im begging yall to step back and see the nuance of this situation cause im gonna be real a lot of you are kinda just brushing over it acting like everything is toshiros fault and that hes a terrible person when in reality hes an average guy who really, really clashed with laios and it led to a very long misunderstanding due to their supremely opposite methods of communication. even laios and toshiro, after letting everything out in their fight, were able to come to an understanding and start a foundation for an actual friendship built on better communication

ok yknow what Edit: i shouldve made it even more explicit at the end of this post, i hadnt thought i would need to since i started the post with this, but i think a few too many people are missing my point so i just wanna clarify. i shouldnt have said 'really clashed' and left it at that because yeah they did, but it wasnt just their opposite methods of communication, it is also very much that toshiro was experiencing microaggressions via laios. it may have been unintentional on laios's part, but it still happened and wore him down, made it harder for him to communicate on top of both the more subtle social cues that he was raised with and his own communication difficulties. i also want to say that the fandom reaction to toshiro and the complete ignorance of this point is also racist tbh or at the very least ignorant. i understand that the anime did not cover this panel, and neither did the manga, as this was an omake, but im gonna be real with you guys. there are enough context clues within the story to clue you into this. if you didnt pick up on it thats ok, but i think this is a good lesson in picking up subtext in the stories that youre watching and/or reading. kui shouldnt have to explicitly say 'by the way laios was racist to toshiro' for this point to be understood, and at the very least, when the author portrays a character in a sympathetic light (as kui clearly does) it should make you question Why they are doing so and what makes them sympathetic, rather than youre immediate and only reaction to be 'well i hated what this guy did/said so i hate them and they suck'. idk exactly how to finish this, just. idk. question your biases and gut reactions to things you see in media and stories, and think about whether or not theres subtext that youre missing.

[pissed-whizard]

my blog is a gateway drug to cooler and better blogs (my mutuals)

[ozumii-fucking-wizard]

young halsin i painted over for fun

[brainrotcharacters]

the easy grip on the knife. the leg over the seat. the hand over the other seat. the sassy "come get it" move. you know the bitch is smiling behind that mask even as he said the line.

[mythicalcoolkid]

You don't wish your disability was worse or more visible, you wish your disability was taken seriously. Please stop confusing the two, I guarantee you would not get the support you need JUST by being more severe or more visible. Please listen to visibly disabled people when we tell you it isn't better on our side

[maiaczy]

Sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving a few things behind.

[captainjonnitkessler]

Do you guys notice how when Shawn Fain, president of the United Auto Workers union, started planning a general strike, he did it by a) targeting his messaging towards unions with the ability to safely and effectively strike in large numbers, b) laid out a clear, actionable plan for those unions to follow (setting contracts to all expire at the same time, since many unions cannot strike while under contract), c) is using union contracts to set clear, actionable demands that can be met in order to gauge success and provide an end goal, and d) started organizing FOUR YEARS before the proposed strike date to give people the chance to plan accordingly, because it takes a really freaking long time to get tens of millions of people organized?

You notice how he didn't do it by slapping a message on Twitter saying 'hey nobody go to work on Monday, that'll really show 'em'?

[floweroflaurelin]

How do you want to do this?

—

Goodbye, Faithful Caregiver.

[mwagneto]

turn left is literally the most insane episode ever written. yeah the main character would kill himself if he didn't meet his best friend and the UK government is like 2 bad days away from putting all non-english people into labour camps. also all your favourite characters died trying to do what little they could. wouldn't that be crazy? anyway time for the daleks again

[canniefish]

for the art prompt "mouse world" - necromantic scions & cavaliers primary of the eighth and ninth mouse houses

aka op suffers from chronic symptoms of "read way too much redwall in middle school"

[tsuutarr]

Yandere! Love God x Reader

Soulmates do not always meet in every lifetime. Sometimes, a person may become a bird that soars the skies while their soulmate becomes a fish that swims the depths of the sea. Other times, a person may become a little flower in a field while their soulmate becomes a large cactus in a desert. More often than not, the stars must align for soulmates to meet in a single lifetime.

You, however, are the exception. You will meet your soulmate in every lifetime for as long as your soul exists.

After all, your soulmate is the God of Love, an immortal being that ensures that you will meet in every single lifetime. 

It doesn’t matter if you’re a little plant, an animal, or a human – he’ll always find you and love you. When you’re not there by his side, he patiently waits for the glow of your soul to return to the mortal realm.

It’s become a pattern of his, a habit. When you leave his side due to your life’s candle burning out, his world will be drowned in grayscale and monotony. He goes about his days without much care for anything, his duty taking the forefront of his mind.

But when you reincarnate, your soul colors his world with his love for you, brightening up his days. To him, it doesn’t matter what you are, just that you are – that you exist. Your existence takes the forefront of his mind, his body, his soul. He devotes everything to you for as long as he can, eager to dye you in his colors in every one of your lifetimes.

It doesn’t matter that you don’t remember him – he’ll remember for the both of you, filling pages and pages with his memories of you. It doesn’t matter that he has to start all over again in every single lifetime – he’ll gladly fill you with his love for you over and over again. Because, to him, you go beyond just being his world – you’re his universe.

So, for most people, the stars must align for soulmates to meet in a single lifetime. But for you, your soulmate forces the stars to collide so that he can draw your constellation next to his again and again for the rest of eternity. 

[labotor]

"Hey, chin up. I know the night just got darker, but it won't last forever."

[letsplaythermalnuclearwar]

Homer!Odysseus and Epic!Odysseus would try to kill each other if they ever met