#and I could ALSO be overthinking things

[cluescorner]

Given the Alberich Clan’s whole deal of “lead lives as those who blaze like fire, rather than those who wallow in the embers” and all of the other weird connections between Kaeya’s past/Khaenriah and fire, it’s really funny that Kaeya ended up with a Cryo vision. 

[keferon]

“Mistakes on mistakes until” ch 69 spoilers below!

Ahahahahahahah here I go again

Mistakes on mistakes until until I can draw Jazz with my eyes closed

I woke up, checked my phone, woke up for real and decided that whatever plans I had for this day yeah no they can wait a little bit kfkgnfk

Also. Consider listening this while reading. Or don't who am I to tell you what to do~

[canisalbus]

I've only known about your art for a little less than a year but I think it will forever leave an impact on me. Your style and designs and imagery. Even if at some point I move on from your blog, tumblr, internet, there will be times when I'll fondly remember this one person who would draw gay anthro dogs. You are unforgettable. Thank you.

Auh, that's too kind ;_;

I'm honored you think so highly of what I do! Thank you so much!

[myuminji]

dedicated to the audience: me, myself, and I— I finished the discarded sketch

[violent138]

As a locked room connoisseur and premier escapologist, I have to know you guys' thoughts: which group of members from the Batfam always completes the three levels of the locked room in like forty seconds (and then goes ahead and breaks the records for four more). Which members overthink everything, break a clue, and use up all their time and hints while the very patient helper tries to get them to stop chasing after the red herrings and assures them it is "that easy". And lastly who comprises the group taking it super lightly and cheering every time a lock opens but who may have also accidentally punched the costumed worker trying to scare them?

[gooboogy]

The problem is they both make sense.

John lacks any agency, and as his abilities start "failing" he loses more of what little he has. The only things he can do is perceive the world through Arthur's eyes and talk to him in his head. That's it. He has no material effect on the world around them. He is solely 100% reliant on Arthur for his continued existence and influence on the world. He can't ignore Arthur whatsoever (unlike Arthur who can ignore John easy peasy) he can't Do anything but talk and observe (and also experience the deaths of people Arthur touches but ultimately that does nothing). Of course he is going to be distrustful of other people and possessive over Arthur.

Arthur feels like suddenly he can't rely on this very reliable thing that has been keeping him alive this whole time. It would shake anyone up. Especially with the shit they have to deal with? If he can't rely on directions he will be sliced to ribbons or shot without a chance of fighting back. They may as well be dead already. And for all of John's lack of agency, it's Arthur who has to actually deal with the consequences. He's the one who's getting wounded and torn to bits and has to fight all that. Plus it's HIS body. If someone's existence relies on your body, you have the right to refuse, bodily autonomy is a human right.

The problem is they've gone through this cycle before (cycle of learning and forgetting and learning that they are One Unit and need to work Together vs The Problems and forgetting) but never has it shaken Arthur so much. Even when they've argued before he would still listen to John's directions. But now? Everything is in question (as is probably the intent behind John's "failing" abilities.) They DO need other people to help and they DO need to be careful and include John. They cannot truly trust someone else while keeping John a secret or without his input. Arthur has the most control over the situation and the onus is on him to make the compromises. Yeah it's his body but 1) countless times he promised to John that they were in this together and 2) at this point separating them would be so traumatic that they may as well be One.

All of this is to say, curious that Arthur is so willing to tell Oscar about literally everything EXCEPT John. What happens if he does? What if there's someone else to assert for John in a way Arthur can't ignore so easily? Would that legitimize the shared ownership of Arthur's body? What does it mean for John to gain agency by the loss of Arthur's autonomy?

[quibbs126]

You know I love these different Waffle Cookies that the creators made that one time, and how they each interpreted the waffle differently

The first one makes the waffle more like a shield or something? This one isn’t entirely clear, but it led to summoner/cleric

The second one seems to interpret the waffle as like a straw hat, and thus a bug catcher

The third one I’m told they made the connection between the waffle and chainmail, which led to them being some sort of monster tamer? I don’t know

And then this fourth one, the waffle got interpreted like a knit pattern, and so the Cookie’s a knitter

I love how each of these make a connection between the ingredient and something else, and then from there they can make a whole character from it

God I wish that were me. And also that I didn’t overthink things so much

[skunkes]

i dont like when character being blunt/having no filter = character just being Mean, and im trying to find a good balance with that for Talon. I guess it's not that hard since he's not an (active) overthinker and I have drawn him saying things he considers neutral that seem rude to others...I guess I have to find a way to show the opposite, too

[fictionadventurer]

Beauty and the Beast for the WIP game?

My only real attempt at writing poetry before this year happened during a stretch when I tried to write a Beauty and the Beast retelling in verse. I got about two-thirds of the way through before it fizzled out and languished forever unfinished.

When it comes to my recent novel-in-verse obsession, the simplest option would be to take another look at this work and try to finish it. There's a lot of terrible poetry in there, but there are some that are somewhat better than I remember. I can't claim to be a judge of what's good poetry, but some of these are readable, so I'll share some of them here.

The first set of semi-readable poems covers the first meetings between Beauty and the Beast. (These are all numbered, and I'm leaving the numbers in place to better differentiate between separate poems. I think the speaker in most of these is fairly clear from context, but just in case, I'll put the speaker's name in the title, too.)

VI. beauty and beast

he is every nightmare i’ve ever forgotten he is thunder and darkness and death he is fear with fangs he is beastly

she is every dream i’ve never dared for she is roses and sunlight and life she is hope with jewels she is beauty

*

VIII. beauty

the chair creaks when he sits

my knees quake when he speaks

the master laughs when i ask

when i will die

my ears doubt when i hear

my mind reels when i realize

the master wonders when i began

to think he’d kill me

IX. beast

the rules are these you are mistress of this castle the servants will obey your every whim the rooms and all within are yours including me

you will dine with me at dusk we will not speak if you want silence you will look at me and try not to scream

i will not harm a hair of your head i will not cause a moment’s worry you will do whatever you wish except leave

X. beauty

his mercy shatters my world makes it bigger and at the same time smaller

how can i live in a monster’s cage

my life will be long and lonely with him my friend and at the same time jailer

how can i look at a monster’s face

the castle teems with wonders that all belong to him and at the same time me

what do i do with a monster’s love

*

The next set of poems I feel like sharing starts with Beauty finding a portrait in the castle, and then leads into her sharing a dance with Beast that makes her kind of freak out over the fact that she might be falling in love.

XXII. beast

today you found a painting in a long-forgotten room covered in cobwebs and shrouded in dust

there was a reason it was lost

the portrait showed a man with a face like the dawn and eyes like the sea you thought he looked kind

he was young and a fool

you may keep it if you wish or lock it back in darkness it matters not to me i used to see him daily

i doubt i’ll see his face again

*

XXIV. beauty (and beast)

if rooms have souls the ballroom is wise a radiant beauty long past her prime

she treasures the days when she lived and was loved she keeps them and counts them like pearls on a string

(she is not the only one, my dear)

long past midnight in moonlight and hush this sleepwalking girl can glimpse former days

a flash of a gown and a whisper of waltz what glorious balls must this room have beheld

(they were marvelous indeed, my friend)

it seems a shame she grows old alone with nothing but darkness and dust held within

i would dance for her return the spark of life if only we had music and i had a partner

(i will gladly dance with you, my love)

XXV. beast

my dear beauty don’t you know i learned dancing long ago

one step closer take my hand with a waltz you’ll understand

let the music guide your feet in a dance that’s slow and sweet

hand in hand and heart to heart it’s not love but it’s a start

XXVI. beauty

he is hulking beastly

i am small delicate

i should be stumbling crushed

but

we marvelously miraculously dance

and it feels like flying

XXVII. beauty (to the portrait)

man on the wall i may be mad but i must give voice to the storm in my heart and you are the only one near

the master puzzles me i know his home as well as my own but i know so little about him

(is he beast or man or nightmare or dream or captor or friend)

i saw his face and thought him a beast

(but he grows roses and reads poems and has never killed or even raised his voice)

i heard his voice and thought him a monster

(but he spared my life gave me his home and all he owned offered his heart and never once has been anything but gentle)

i watched him dance and thought him a man

(with grace like an angel or a prince and i think that maybe he was not always so lonely and that his heart aches for things lost)

what am i to think do say be feel about him now

and why do these questions always come at midnight

*

The final poem is one that I had completely forgotten about, so I was shocked to find it lurking in the latter sections of the document and showing signs of using some decent imagery. By polishing up the last couple of lines, I've got something that's not half bad as a standalone poem.

This one occurs during an extended period when Beauty is still trying to process her feelings toward Beast and figure out if this is really love or if her feelings are being warped by isolation and close proximity.

XXX. beauty

if this is love it is a dark and grasping love a child stumbling in the night crying for a candle flame and cherishing the smallest spark of light

if this is love it is a bleak and desolate love a skeleton tree in a barren desert windbeaten and scrubbed to bone and bursting into bloom at the first drop of rain

if this is love it is a smoke and mirrors love a sleight of hand or trick of light that takes my broken heart and fools me into thinking he can make it whole

[fromtheseventhhell]

She was the night wolf. But only when she dreamed. (The Blind Girl, ADWD) "The hour of the wolf. The blackest part of night, when all the world's asleep." (The Kingbreaker, ADWD)

Thinking thoughts...It's the longest, darkest hour of the night, Arya is the Night Wolf + Dark Heart, it's the time when "the world's asleep" and Arya wargs into Nymeria and the leader of a giant pack of wolves while sleeping, and it's likely she'll reunite with Nymeria right before the long night...

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

booked a hotel and got the concert ticket aghhhh

[sillyfreakx5]

WHY AM I SUDDENLY THE TYPE OF BEING WHO NEEDS ATTENTION

i swear i wasn't like this a couple months ago TwT

[rotisseries]

Haunting

Will Byers + Strangers by Ethel Cain

@bylerween2023 | Day 1: Ghosts & Hauntings

unfortunately, it's not looking like my fic for bylerween will be done in time to share today, so I'm sharing the graphic that would have gone with it! strangers is one of my favorite songs, it's very haunting and very will coded, and I felt that it fit for the theme lol. the larger fic idea is that will did die in the upside down, and when mike goes to visit the now abandoned byers house, he sees will's ghost. hoping I can finish it by the november 22nd deadline🫡

[causenessus]

just so u guys know i haven't been this attached to someone (suna) since oikawa tooru which started like 4 years ago i kid u not

[snomillions]

another duster thought:

i genuinely think duster wanted to remain in DCMC, and wanted to retain the identity of Lucky.

if i'm remembering correctly, the DCMC is implied to have been brought to the nowhere islands due to porky's time shenanigans. which would mean that, after the end of mother 3, if the world really was reborn, there is no DCMC again. duster cannot leave tazmily to be a lucky bassist again.

it is 3am as i'm writing this and i'm not as eloquent as i would've liked and i would've added more but what gets me is the thought of duster being unable to escape the narrative.

imagine duster being able to break free of the narrative that was forced upon him by adults before he even knew of himself. imagine duster not having to be a thief anymore but instead being a bassist in a jazz band and having the time of his life. one must imagine duster being happy without some grand, overwhelming, identity-suppressing duty being imposed upon him.

or, alternatively, letting duster remain a thief because of his own choice.