#it's my specialty <3

[springtrappd]

@limbsandheads this entire blog has actually been an elaborate operation to convert as many people to vannyism as possible via the "shite posts" of the youth. Glad to see it's working

jokes aside: HEHEHEHE THANK YOU... yeah a big part of getting comfy in my niche here has been getting comfortable enough to actually, like, POST my anaylsis /because/ of the complete lack of it elsewhere. being counterculture can be a tough place to be in! the amount of times i've had to hold myself back or scrap something bc i'm unsure if i'm gonna get dragged into explaining, idk, what a fucking metaphor is or some shit... ugh. awful do not recommend. i'm not sure what's worse: people who refuse to believe that parallels exist, or people that understand that parallels exist but only as fodder for theories (which are, as we all know, the most important part of any satisfying story)

i think people in general have a hostile response to any kind of serious analysis precisely because it's serious; it feels like... there's this pervasive sense -- particularly when you talk to the people that i'm thinking of here -- that academia is somehow Other or (views itself as) Superior in some way, thus making the act of engaging in it about posturing rather than, well. study. people have a very strict idea of what art is, even if only subconsciously, and react accordingly when the Other comes in to try and take away their favourite toy. games are fun; analysis is not. why can't you just let people enjoy things, you're just doing this for attention, etc etc etc. it's a position borne of ignorance, one that assumes that you can separate art from play at all -- and one that finds itself most vulnerable to exploitation. it's fundamentally reactionary rhetoric, is what i'm getting at here, and why i can so easily swap out stupid fnaf jargon for a conservative strawman and still get the point across.

anti-intellectualism sucks because it sucks all the joy out of art. like, for all i joke about being fuelled by spite, you'll find that even my most virulent snark comes from a place of love. i talk about this shit because i love it; because i love the actors and writers and art directors and character designers and production teams and editors, every single one of them, and there's nothing quite as intimate as a dissection. to peel back the layers of a piece of art is to ultimately shine a light on the things beneath -- all the blood and bone and gristle, where the artist has been pressed between the pages... to look at someone and know them, to sit and think about what they wanted to say -- what is that, if not love?

you aren't born knowing how to say "i love you". it's something you've gotta learn. and this is what we in the biz call a """METAPHOR""",

also, while we're here: fun fact! i actually write a lot of my stuff off-the-cuff, which is why the flow is often weird/words are missing/it might take a wild left turn away from the original subject? (like i'm low-key doing rn!) it's something that makes me cringe, but also fuels my desire to get around to writing a proper essay abt this terrible franchise eventually... i've got pages of bullet points & notes scattered around the place (& hundreds of discord messages to pull from, oh god), it's just the practical part of it that makes me want to crawl back into my skin. until then you are stuck with the Crazed Ravings (Autism Flavour), (un)fortunately (depending on how you look at it)

[cozylittleartblog]

Columbo and the Knight (1984)

put me in the universe where Columbo ran through the 1980s and had a crossover episode with Knight Rider. I think they deserved it, and I am not just saying that because they're my two favorite Old Shows. @telebeast wrote a little fanfic blurb about it and I HAD to visualize it into a comic (which is also the longest comic I have finished thus far at five pages...), so writing credit goes to them.

Autism W!

[seldompathic]

Too much fear in familiar blue eyes for his liking :((

[meshumo]

more mediocre rejuv doodles while i work on real pieces

[vinyls-and-valentines]

There are several common misconceptions city folk have when first settling into the Zones.

The first, is that masks are meant to protect the living. While living under constant surveillance, it is perhaps only natural to find solace in the impression of anonymity provided by face coverings such as masks, helmets, and bandanas, and even more cynical types who claim their purpose is to obfuscate what little presence BL/i does nurture amidst the harsh desert winds— however, these are nothing more than outsiders' views on matters that had not previously concerned them. The truth is, in fact, much simpler: masks are talismans, and bargaining chips of the dead— they prove there once was someone who cherished them and whom they in turn swore to protect. No one can return from the dead without renouncing some part of themselves, and when dealing with something as strongly entwined with one's identity as a mask, it is one last chance for forgiveness or retribution.

The second most common misconception amongst newcomers, is that all information shared voluntarily is shared without ill intent. It is undeniable that skill and information are what constitute power both sides of the wall, and that the latter is often freely shared amongst those willing to stand their ground against Better Living as a form of leverage, but unlike the City which has had its bare bones exposed, ground down, and then rebuilt inside-out in the crater of something far larger than any atomic bomb, the Zones are alive. Alive in a way which goes far beyond the roads spreading like veins and arteries beneath fallow land. Alive in a way which alludes even the conscious component of a place brimming with the unknown and unexplainable where the line between one's perception and physical reality is drawn thin. Alive in a way that is cold and uncaring, and which if exposed would be enough to drive even the most devout believers and cynical scholars mad. It is truth which makes the sharpest blade, afterall.

The third and final misconception many new zonerunners hold to be true, is that numbers are a liability. While undeniable that resources in the Zones are scarce and that it's more difficult to move as a group rather than an individual, to treat one's life as merely an extension of their escape from the clutches of Battery City is no better than to pen their name on their own death certificate. There is of course the practical aspect of desert community as well; although scattered like dandelion seeds in the wind, killjoys often come together for events such as parties, races, concerts and markets, and even on more mundane occasions there are more than a handful of crews loitering about Tommy Chow Mein's or slumbering sharehouses and bars. Information travels fast within groups and although there is such a thing as too much, patrol routes and standing commissions will always be made known on the ground before the airwaves. Solitude may be effective while running, but rest is always better shared with those you've come to trust

[holysheithyall]

the creator of fnaf and her biggest fan

[felixcatton]

Daisy Jones & "Dogfish" by Mary Oliver

[ryssbelle]

He's getting a strawberry refresher

little ganon drawling i made for the epic @scurgle

[peepoo79]

Cringe-ass American Psycho AU under cut 👁️👁️

Anyway as I previously alluded to, this mf silly ass idea has been in my brain for a while. Fuck it. Hospital AU. Been watching too much House MD lately. Anyway:

Patrick Bateman:

General surgery. Graduated Harvard medical school. Tried to match into plastic surgery but didn’t make the cut. Didn’t make the cut for cardiothoracic surgery either. Ended up settling for general surgery.

Went into medicine because doctors make a lot of money and have a lot of status. Probably wouldn’t have gotten through medical school if it weren’t for the connections is father has—nepotism at its finest. His father is on the board of directors for the hospital he works at—his last name, unfortunately, keeps him out of a LOT of trouble.

Horrific bedside manner. He’s attempted to sleep with patients on multiple occasions (and succeeded several times), has had countless malpractice lawsuits thrown at him, and frequently leaves his patients feeling uncomfortable. Has been known to purposefully under-anesthetize patients and recommend completely unnecessary procedures just because he’s bored.

That being said, his behavior with patients varies WILDLY. He’s on good behavior if he perceives his patient as being of high status (still unintentionally makes them uncomfortable, but only because he is trying SO HARD to make them like him that it backfires. Think the Tom Cruise elevator interaction from the book. That sort of behavior). However, if they fall into the category of people Patrick regards as “lesser,” the difference is stark. He tends to take his anger out on these sorts of patients.

Still a sadistic bastard. Unfortunately, his job allows him pretty easy access to inflicting agony on unwilling subjects and getting away with it. In some ways, he’s a lot more flagrant with his unacceptable behavior than he is in the source material. Perks of being in a profession like surgery I guess.

Treats the nurses terribly, has slept with a lot of them.

Only reason he hasn’t gotten fired is, once again, nepotism. Seriously, this guy sucks

Jean:

Registered nurse, works under Patrick.

Is aware that Patrick is not favored by his patients. Unaware of the extent of his depravity.

Poor girl needs a hug :(

Despite the shit she’s regularly put through (dealing with patients, dealing with Patrick, dealing with his equally insufferable colleagues), still manages to keep a mostly positive attitude.

Originally wanted to go to medical school but didn’t like the idea of having to spend so much of her youth in school. Decided on nursing—she felt that she could make a better positive impact doing that, anyway.

Paul Owen:

Graduated from Yale. Plastic Surgeon. Has his own practice but occasionally gets called in to the hospital the others work at to handle trauma cases.

Everything Patrick wanted to be. Has everything Patrick wanted to have—rich and beautiful clientele, a flexible work schedule, social prestige.

Well liked by his colleagues and his patients. Actually treats the nurses and other staff well.

Tim Price:

Cardiothoracic surgeon. Went to medical school with Patrick.He’s the closest thing to a friend Patrick has—they were roommates throughout med school

Patrick seems to almost look up to him in a way—probably because in his mind, he’s “higher status”and more successful.

Arrogant but generally tolerated by his colleagues.

Has slept with a lot of the nurses. By extension, has made a lot of enemies out of the nurses.

Completely unaware of Bateman’s…issues. He doesn’t think he’d have the spine to do anything too absurd, despite the malpractice lawsuits Bateman regularly complains to him about (thinks the patients are just trying to get money out of him, probably)

Still not a very nice guy, he says a lot of shit about his patients behind their backs that’s DEFINITELY a violation of doctor-patient confidentiality

Evelyn Richards:

Pharmaceutical sales rep. Met Patrick shortly after he graduated med school, went for him because he’s young, handsome, and has disposable income.

Comes from an already wealthy family.

Still having an affair with Price.

Squeamish—won’t let Patrick talk about any of the work he does. So much as the mention of a scalpel and she’s nauseous. Obviously, Patrick makes it a point to describe his cases in graphic detail because if this.

Courtney Lawrence

In administration. Also unaware of Patrick’s fuckass behavior.

Still dating Luis. Still cheating on Luis with Patrick.

Honestly, not much to change for her

Luis Carruthers

Psychiatrist. Frequently feels a bit left out since the others don’t regard him as a “real doctor”

Still very infatuated with Patrick

Liked by his patients, but regarded as a bit dense by his colleagues

Well liked by the nurses—occasionally brings in baked goods for them! One of the only ones out of the group that actually shows his appreciation for the non-MD members of the hospital staff

David Van Patten

Orthopedic surgeon, arrogant and jockish.

Went to med school because he was pressured into it by his family. Went into ortho because he thought it was “easiest”

Craig McDermott

ENT specialist. “Friends” with Patrick, although most of their interactions are petty squabbles and constant attempts at one-upping the other

Takes pride in his work, but mainly because he makes a lot of money. In medicine for basically the same reasons as Patrick, but is, y’know….normal about it.

Anyway that’s all I’ve got for now. This is super duper self indulgent LMAO

[quotidianish]

Some retired bnb doodles. Because the world runs on senile folk

[quirkle2]

Shigeo still doesn’t know how to answer. He hasn’t answered, and he knows that’s weird, and maybe a bit creepy, but it’s also characteristic of him, so maybe he doesn’t need to stress over it. He simply sits there in the heavy rain instead and watches Reigen’s pink tie get dragged by the gales. And then Serizawa crouches down, lowers his hand out, and shelters Shigeo’s head with the draped fabric of a clear umbrella. In Shigeo’s world, the rain stops.

scene from my wip fic recondite :]

[deiaiko]

#19.3 Unravel

It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.

Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.

They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.

Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"

Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"

"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"

"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."

"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"

"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."

"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.

Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.

"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"

Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arms ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday. 

Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.

Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"

"There's always a chance–"

"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."

Grace fell silent and went still.

Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"

"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"

"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.

Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."

"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.

Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"

"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.

Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."

Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.

"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."

Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.

Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.

Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.

Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."

Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.

When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.

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☕ Buy me coffee ☕

[elmuvahva]

can you guys guess who my favourite is yet lmao

i also cannot for the life of me get his eyes right so i simply ✨didn’t ✨

[zorosdimples]

all sukuna sees when he looks down are his fat tits, and i exploit that blind spot to kidnap uraume right under the king of curses’ nose.

[tekkenenjoyerblue]

JP from Streets Fight 🫶

[gothic-clownz]

had to search some,,,questionable things for this one, but i think im getting comfortable drawing them now :3