#there might be some inaccuracies in this

[temtamtom]

I’ve got 18th century France on the brain again, here he is as a cuirassier ❤️

[v1ntagecassette]

a transcription of vox's silly goose bluescreen message for your viewing pleasure

[mochiiniko]

Her heart was beating in her ears like a marching band

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I’ve been getting back into drawing stuff for Rhythm Doctor again because of the Act 5 hype, so here’s a silly comic based on Mic Check by ReneeDekobora2042!! It was one of the first RD fics I read when I first got into the fandom, and probably one of the best (definitely up there with Clipboard Notes, victor if you’re seeing this hi LOL) so I thought it would be nice to make a short comic of one of my favorite parts. More ramblings & bonus doodles under the cut :]

I started working on this about a month an a half ago, and initially I just wanted to work on this as a small silly wacky fanart project that was supposed to look more like this

So like every sane artist I decided to make it harder for myself

Also some unused sketches based on the Rollerdisco Rumble Reprise custom level by Kabii!

These were my favorite panels during the sketching phase but I had to change the last couple panels to reference 2-3N instead because it made more sense timeline wise. Might render these someday tho because I'm still attached to them lmao

Last but not least shoutout to my discord friends for being there for my slow descent into madness (now if youll excuse me im going to go collapse now thank you for reading)

[rednite-dork]

I had a headcanon ever since I first played Hogwarts Legacy that the Wizarding World was much more open-minded and relaxed compared to the Muggle World in late 1800s.

I mean, it kind of makes sense, too. The wizarding community were hunted by the muggles, being feared and shamed for possessing something they just were born with. They were literally hunted down to be hidden from the Muggle World.

So, it resulted them to have much more relaxed worldview, a very different world compared to the Victorian muggles who obsessed over etiquette and social rules.

Imagine the whiplash muggleborns and some half-bloods had after setting foot to the Wizarding World for the first time.

[tremendouskoalachild]

Transcript (from about 0:27 on) under the cut

I've had a lot of Star Wars fans, and gamers in general, ask some pretty great questions about Bode and his motivations and why he does some of the things he does. So I figured I'd just share a little bit of some of the behind the scenes work that I do for a character like Bode. And let me say right off the bat: I'm a huge Star Wars fan but I don't pretend to be, like, a Star Wars academic – so if you want to come at me with how my headcanon is factually inaccurate, you're welcome to do so, it's not going to bother me, but that's not why I do it. I create these backstories because it gives me an emotional hook, so that Bode's emotional journey is honest, for me.

And I should also say, anything I say now isn't on any of the writers or anyone else on the Survivor team, this is all just my broken dumb brain. So, let's talk today about Ghost Star.

So, the song Ghost Star was introduced by one of the writers, Danny – mad genius Danny – pretty late in the sequence of things, and then brought to beautiful life by Tajinae, who plays Kata and is ridiculously talented. I'm very jealous. So, Danny had asked me in a session, would you feel comfortable singing a song as Bode? I don't sing, which may have become quite apparent if you play the game, but any chance for me to show and share more of who Bode is, stuff that you don't get to see in all the missions, I'm grateful for. So I was like, hell yeah. And I got this song titled Ghost Star, so the first thing I did was look up "ghost star", specifically looking for anything revolving around astronomy.

I don't know if this was Danny's thought from the get-go, I have never talked to him about it, but in my research I found that there is a theory being postulated that when you're looking up at the night sky and you see the sky just covered in stars, that there's actually a lot of astral bodies you're not seeing. Among them being ghost stars, which are stars with dark matter cores. Dark matter has gravity but never undergoes nuclear fission the way a normal star does, and therefore emits no light. So there are stars out there with tremendous gravity that are essentially invisible to the naked eye.

And I thought that was really beautiful and poetic, in a way, and then I started thinking about Bode and a question that arises a lot, which is: why does Bode not get found out by Cal, or Cere, or Cordova, these incredibly powerful Jedi?

That's a really good question, and it made me wonder if perhaps there is a rare contingent of individuals who have the ability to tap into the Force but don't emit a Force resonance like most people do – which is how a Jedi is able to tell that someone else is able to manipulate the Force. I mean, Emperor Palpatine is a perfect example of an incredibly powerful Force user who is literally standing right in front of Master Yoda and all the Masters on the Jedi Council, and they never know. So, maybe this is a rare trait that they share.

And that got me thinking, that would probably be something that you'd pick up on very early at the Jedi Academy as a youngling. And one of the things that Bode shares with Cal is that before Order 66 he worked in intelligence.

It would be a very powerful asset to be able to take an operative and insert them into situations where they can watch over Force users without that target knowing that he can manipulate the Force. Where would that be useful? Intelligence gathering, obviously, but also the Jedi equivalent of internal affairs. Jedi are incredibly powerful. And power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. And if anyone's seen The Clone Wars, you know that there are very powerful “Jedi” that are not good. Pong Krell being a great example. I want to punch him, repeatedly.

So perhaps operatives like Bode were sent to gather intel and make sure that the Jedi out there were doing what they're supposed to be doing. One example. And, perhaps, his operative name was Ghost Star.

Order 66 happens, all hell breaks loose, everything that Bode has known burns to ash. He's on the run and somewhere on his journey he meets a wonderful woman named Tayala.

When you have to run and hide and constantly change locations for fear of being found, that's not something you can do with a significant other and not let them know what you're doing and why. So I'm sure Bode shares his past with Tayala. And then a while later, Kata is born.

Anytime Bode gets an inkling that Imperial intelligence has been sniffing around, or forbid an inquisitor makes their presence known anywhere nearby, I think Bode leaves his family behind, travels to distant parts of the Galaxy and very subtly makes himself known, so that he attracts the attention of intelligence or the inquisitors and draws that focus away from his family.

And Kata's so young and doesn't understand why her father has to leave for weeks or months at a time, and so Tayala sings her a lullaby called Ghost Star, which brings Kata comfort while she waits for her father to come home. And it's also for Tayala, perhaps a silent prayer that her husband comes back safely.

And they survive like this, constantly moving, constantly on the run. And then one day Bode is out with Kata. They're coming home and as they're getting closer to the house, he hears Tayala singing Ghost Star, which is a song she never sings if he's home. And he knows that something's gone terribly, terribly wrong.

And he flees with Kata, and the inquisitor that was waiting for him at home in their anger strikes down Tayala, knowing that, somehow, she gave them away.

So, a lot of things happen. Bode makes some very difficult, very terrible choices in the pursuit of keeping Kata safe, and now sings Ghost Star as a way to make sure that Kata's memories of her mother stay as fresh as they can; and just because it brings him comfort, but it also is a poignant reminder of a terrible, terrible day and the fact that he left his wife behind and that his wife paid the price for Bode being who he is.

And I think in his time as a dog for the Empire Bode has done some terrible, terrible things. I think he's often sent to hunt down Jedi that are that are in hiding, especially if it seems like they're trying to rally up resistance, because he can come in and his target will never see him coming. I think he's an assassin, and I think every time he does it a little piece of Bode chips off.

And I think Bode hates himself for it, and I think a lot of times, especially if it's a mission where he's gotten to know his target to any degree, that makes it that much harder to do what he knows he has to do. And in those moments he uses Ghost Star as his anchor. He sings it to himself when he's alone, as a way to remind himself of why he's doing the terrible things he's doing, that there is a greater purpose, which is making sure that his daughter stays safe and that Tayala’s sacrifice is never in vain.

And then he meets Cal, and I think finds the brother he never had. And in the crew of the Mantis the family he's lost, a family that would allow Kata to live a normal life. And he really struggles with what to do, and tries desperately to make it work. And when it becomes clear that Cal is going to share the information on Tanalorr and turn it into essentially an access point, Bode is devastated, because the Empire has already found Cal, Cal just doesn't know it yet. And if they found him now they'll definitely find them again, if this turns into essentially a way station. And Bode makes an impossible choice.

And he tries to use Ghost Star the way it's always worked in the past, to kind of remind him of what's important, and I think it fails him, and I think it breaks him.

[lilacerull0]

sometimes we forget how much of a light house is in cuddy’s life that her PERSON!!!

this is exactly what i needed in my inbox for personal reasons so thank you :") but yeah... they're both weird!!! is the thing!!!! and house is so loud about it because that's how he avoids being accused of anything and cuddy tries to undermine her weirdness because that's how she avoids being accused of anything, but both of those mechanisms are a way of not being one's true self to the fullest. because if you are determined not to do what you consider to be the things only other people can do and you believe in this because it was proven to you time and time again that you don't exactly fit in, you might miss out on the simplicity you're unexpectedly able to appreciate and engage in. and if you're constantly trying to meet everyone's expectations, where is the space for you to be you? and house IS a light in cuddy's life in this very unexpected, unusual way because he somehow still preserves while living in a way that's completely against the idea of what life should or is supposed to be. something cuddy struggles with throughout the entire show almost... even the things she wants that fit the perfect life narrative she tries to make herself want them more. i am instantly brought to tears thinking about her wish to have a kid which seemed more real to me than her attempts to find a romantic partner... because i really feel like she wanted to have someone who would at least hear her if not be like her -> that's why wilson is so significant to her. he's wilson! he hears what nobody else can hear... but she also wanted somebody to love without worrying about whether she was doing it right. so the fact that she admits not to feel what she thought she would feel towards rachel makes such compelling character drama... because the most crucial thing that cuddy does wrong is the fact that she thinks not to fit within the realm of supposed and should is to fail. and that brings me back to house because he does not care about the supposeds and the shoulds and he is a great doctor, maybe even because of this very thing more than anything else. and yes that does disrupt cuddy's whole worldview, but it's also hopeful i think. because if not sticking to the rulebook works for someone else, maybe she's not doing anything wrong when she's not married with kids by the time her mother deems appropriate. maybe she's not doing anything wrong it she gets overwhelmed by how much work she has to deal with. this is EXACTLY why house is the one to help out in that cuddy centric episode. because that's what he is to her. he jumps out of the ordinary and makes it work. so it's okay for cuddy to be cuddy. so there's no right way to feel something. and it's pretty fascinating because that same thing is what easily turns into one of house's greatest flaws (the fact that he won't let himself do or god forbid enjoy something ordinary or boring), but to cuddy it's inspirational. (the horror on her face when he admits that he values her over his work comes to mind) and there is something very human about all that which is mainly why theirs is my favourite relationship on the show. humans do that! we see something in someone and find light in it, but to that person to believe that something they've been called crazy for (by others or themselves) or have felt bad about to the point of it becoming an integral part of their very being and simultaneously an inevitable source of some kind of twisted, survival-rooted pride can be viewed in a different way is world-changing and on the edge of world-ending. that's the main conflict between these 2 characters i think. the fact that the very thing that they're inspired by in one another is what terrifies them when they get too close to each other. loving the other one is easy. it's loving themselves enough to be a person with them that's paralysing.

[puhpandas]

You Stress Me Out

(4,135 words)

Gregory shows up at Evan's house during a storm with a wood carving knife stuck in his stomach. It may not be that bad of a wound, but that doesn't mean having a knife sticking out of you is any less scary. Or that Evan will freak out any less.

warnings: blood, mentions of a fistfight, an unsafe home environment, stitches, and of course, a blade being stuck inside flesh

Evans incredibly on edge right now. Which, nothing new here. But this time, it's less of his normal state and more of a genuine, rational kind of edge.

First off; a storm is on it's way. Not only does a storm mean that outside is a no-go, meaning that Evan is trapped inside his house with no way to leave, but hes absolutely terrified of thunder.

Which is why as soon as he'd heard about the bad weather, when his fathers back was turned and Michael had been focusing on something other than messing with him, he'd snuck to the kitchen, grabbed all the snacks and water he could need, and took them to his hidden stash in his bedroom.

This way, he didnt have to leave his room. And he could do his old trick of blocking the door leading from the shortest route to his room with his dresser, which could give him enough time to shut Michael out if he decides to persist on the other side.

Unlockable doors. The bane of Evan's existence.

The other reason hes on edge isnt because of himself, even though his body is locked up and sense, waiting for the thunder to start booming outside and send him flying off of his bed from how hard he flinches. Its because of Gregory.

Evan's brows furrow from his place on his bed, curtains drawn, but just open enough to see the rain start so he can brace himself. He takes one look at the gray clouds and white sky and frowns deeply.

Evan knows all about his friends... situation. Honestly, after being friends for almost a year, you'd think he would have known sooner, but nope. Evan had just been giving Gregory the benefit of the doubt too much. when Gregory'd refuse to let Evan go to his house, he'd assume he had parents like his, who he didnt want Gregory to have to see either, which was why he had been asking. When Gregory would have new bruises and cuts and rips in his clothing the next time Evan would see him, he would deliberately choose not to pry, or wonder, because he would think maybe it was worse than he thought.

But Evan had figured it out eventually, and he'd understood why Gregory kept it from him so long. Evan wouldnt want Gregory to see him differently for being a certain way.

But like Gregory, Evan had made it clear he didnt. He understands, really. Like he understands that with the knowledge comes the worry.

Evan knows Gregory doesnt always have stable shelter. The city and it's people arent so kind to homeless people like Gregory, even when hes outside and theres about to be a hurricane. Which is why Evan is hoping, wishing, praying that Gregory will come to Evan, this time.

It's why he's reading a book, sitting on his bed next to his window instead of on his phone like usual. Evan's on edge because he cant stop thinking about what would happen to Gregory if he didn't come, and if he does, will Evan hear him to let him in.

Evans room is on the ground floor, which makes it very easy for Gregory to come and go as he pleases (also for Evan to make an escape when he needs to. It's not rare for Evan to ditch his room to flee to the city with Cassidy, sometimes).

Evan's eyes trail over the words on the pages, but he isnt taking them in. He huffs, letting the book drop to his lap, and tries to ignore how cold-but-on-fire his stomach feels. He can't focus. Not when Gregory's supposed to trust Evan enough to come to him when he needs help and he hasnt yet.

Evan only waits a while longer, foot tapping on the side of his comforter and fingers drumming. When the first few thick drops of water land on his window, he goes for his phone.

Gregory said to never call him unless it's important. But right now, with how much Evan's stomach swims with nausea over uncertainty about Gregory's safety, Evan thinks this is important enough.

Evan only has enough time to enter his fifteen digit pin and tap the phone app before the sound hes been waiting for rings out by his window.

Evan can feel his shoulders drop when the familiar jingle of a Fazbear song is knocked on his window. He smiles, hurrying over to his window and almost ripping the curtains off the wall with how fast he opens them.

When Evan reaches to open the window, Gregory's there, if not a bit weary, if his half lidded eyes and the cut on his cheekbone are any indication, but Evan doesnt worry too much. Just unclicking the locks on his window and helping Gregory step inside when its apparent he needs help.

He has a hand clutching at his stomach, which is worrying, but Gregory looks like hes okay. Not about to die, which is what Evan's thoughts always end up going to, so he thinks that's a good thing.

Evan shuts the window and locks it just as the rain starts to drop harder, and he shuts the curtains, sending a glance at his door (the one not covered up with a dresser) out of paranoia. When his father doesnt burst in and send Gregory away like Evan's imagining, he turns his attention back to Gregory.

Hes huffing, like he cant catch his breath, which makes Evan furrow his brows. Gregory's bent over, like when you have a stomach cramp and try to curl in on yourself as much as possible. If Evan looks hard enough, he can see the inklings of bruises on Gregory's knuckles.

Evan frowns. Okay, probably a fight, but it wouldnt be the first time he would have to pull out the first aid kit.

"Gregory." Evan catches his attention. Gregory's eyes dart up to him, and he offers a shaky smile. "Hey. You had me worried sick."

"Me too." Gregory says, but it sounds strained. He still has that hand pressed firmly over a spot on his stomach, and when he looks pained, Evan guides him over to his bed, letting him sit down. "I know you don't like thunder and stuff. A-And you'd be stuck with Michael.

Evan crosses his arms, trying to look stern but coming off as incredibly worried instead. "Gregory. You're acting weird." He points out. "Listen, I know you're hurt. You know I've seen you get into fights before. Can you just tell me what's wrong?"

Gregory, suspiciously, looks away, focused on one of Evan's toys hes had since he was younger that he never bothered to put away. "Um. I-I dont think this is like those times, though."

Well. If Gregory can be this difficult, he cant be feeling too bad. Doesnt do anything for the anxiety digging a hole in Evan's stomach, though. "No matter what it is, you need help, okay? I wont judge. Just let me patch you up."

Gregory doesnt respond for a moment, then, "Promise not to freak out."

"What?"

"Promise not to wig out." Gregory meets his eyes, looking pained. "This is gonna make you freak. I know it. Just... try to stay calm. It's not that bad, I swear."

"Just show me already!" Evan presses, getting jittery from nerves. "You saying that is already making me freak out!"

"Okay! Jeez." Gregory huffs, and takes a deep breath. "Just dont look at it too hard."

"Gregory!" Evan yells.

"Okay, okay!" Gregory says placatingly. He doesnt say anything else, just takes his hand off of his stomach like ripping off a bandaid.

Evan's eyes blow wide, and his legs turn cold. "Oh my god."

"There it is." Gregory sighs.

"Gregory." Evan says, just above a whisper, because he cant manage anything louder at that moment. He stares at Gregory's stomach, feeling a pit in his own stomach when he cant tear his eyes away. "Gregory!"

"I told you you'd freak out." Gregory mutters, like he doesnt have a literal knife sticking out of his flesh.

"Why would I not freak out?!" Evan whisper yells, because wow he does not need his father or Michael to walk in right now. He gestures wildly, trying to put all of his emotions I into the single movement. "You have a knife in you!"

Despite what Gregory said not to do, Evan looks hard at it anyway. It isnt super deep; it's one of those really tiny pocket knives, like what you would use to carve wood with. He can still see some of the blade sticking out, which means the inch and a half long blade isnt plundged very deep.

"I know." Gregory says. "Can you help me get it out?"

Evan gapes. "Help you--" He giggles maniacally. "Gregory, if I pull it out, I'll have no clue how to make it so you wont bleed out."

"Well," Gregory glances away. "I cant really go to the hospital, and I cant just leave it in." He says. "You're my best bet. Besides, I promise it isnt that bad. It could have been way worse. I dont need a hospital."

Wow. No pressure, or anything. Evan implodes, shaking his hands out and doing laps around the room. "I'm gonna have to pull a knife out of you."

"Okay. Stay calm, remember?" Gregory repeats, and when Evan's facing Gregory's direction again after another lap, he can see him wincing. "Look, I know you're wigging out, but I really dont want this knife to me stuck inside me anymore."

"I would assume so!" Evan hisses, coming to a stop in the middle of his room and wringing his hands through his sweater sleeves. "Gregory--"

"Okay, listen." Gregory sounds strained, and Evan takes a moment to pause, worry taking ahold of his stomach like a giant hand and squeezing. "You have a phone, don't you? I need you to Google what to do, and pull this stupid knife out of my stomach."

Evan gets queasy just thinking about it. "Gregory."

"I know." He says. "But, look. I'm not gonna be awake much longer, since I pretty much ran from the city to here while I was bleeding, and the guy who attacked me had already beat me up a bit before stabbing me."

Evan's heart seizes at that. He returns to Gregory's side, sitting down with him. "But, isnt it not good if you're unconscious--"

"I dont know." He interrupts, eyes squeezed shut. "Look, I'm feeling kinda woozy, so I dont know how much longer I have left, but I'll try to stay awake."

Evan frowns. "You're acting like you're gonna die or something." He jokes, but his hand shake at the thought. "...Okay. Come here."

Gregory perks up, sitting up with great effort and putting an arm around Evan's neck when he gestures to. "We're doing this?"

"Yeah." Evan says shakily. He supports Gregory as he leads him lay down, pressed up against the wall, where if the door opened, hed be hidden behind it. Evan grabs a few of the towels he hides in his room to always have a clean one, -since he can never rely on laundry being done in his house-, and lays them under Gregory to soak up any blood. His father would kill Evan if he got the carpet stained with blood.

Evan grabs the first aid kit he always has hidden under his bed, and clicks it open, settling on his knees in front of Gregory's slack form on the floor with hovering hands as he glances at each of the kits contends uncertainly.

He grabs his phone, fingers trembling and pressing all the wrong buttons. Gregorys harsh breathing doesnt help.

"How did this even happen?" Evan asks as he desperately types in 'how to pull a wood carving knife out of your stomach at home' into the search bar. "Like-- I know you get into fights sometimes, but this?"

"Okay okay." Gregory coughs a bit. "Ill tell you. So, you know how it's about to storm?"

Evan glances at the crack through the curtains just enough to see the dark gray clouds swirling. "Yeah."

"So, I wasnt at my usual spot, but it was really close to starting to pour. And getting sick is like, the worst case scenario." Gregory says while Evan reads the random article he found at the speed of light. "So, I had to find some other place closer to where I was to wait out the storm, because I couldnt travel that far in the rain."

Evan pauses in reading, frowning and looking at Gregory's face. "You know you can always come here, right?"

Gregory frowns, looking away. "Yeah, but..." He trails off. "Its not fair to dump my problems on you like that."

Evan scoffs, breathing out a light chuckle. "Like you didnt dump your problems on me right now. And even then, I dont mind. I would much rather you come to me then be in pain somewhere else. Okay?"

Evan doesnt look at Gregory's face, too busy looking down at the article he has pulled up on his phone in his trembling hand, but he can tell hes smiling.

"Also, don't act like you don't make my problems your own, too. Im allowed to do the same as well, you know."

"Okay, okay." Gregory huffs. "I get it. I'll come to you right away next time. Happy?"

"Yes." Evan says, and he really is. Knowing that Gregory is sure to come to Evan when the weather gets bad, or something happens that makes the city unsafe, Evan will be able to sleep soundly knowing Gregory will either be safe with him, or he will be if need be. "You never finished telling me how you ended up with a pocket knife stuck in you, though."

"Right." Gregory chuckles. "So, I find this kind of hidden away spot, right? And I'm thinking I got really lucky, and set my stuff down. But then this other older kid shows up, and its obvious hes like me. But he gets really mad that I'm in his spot and starts yelling at me to get out."

"Jerk." Evan says, pulling the things he needs out of the first aid kit. "You should help eachother out, not fight. I'm sure he could have lended you some space."

"I'm sure you would have." Gregory chuckles. "But anyway, I'm packing up my stuff to leave, because this guy hurting me is a bigger concern than the weather at this point, and I dont want to mess with him."

Evan nods along, and goes to begin, but pauses when the first step is to take out the knife. Nausea curls in his gut, and he winces, glancing at Gregory.

"Hey." He cuts Gregory off in his story, and tries to look as apologetic as possible. "I, um. Have to take the knife out."

Gregory's eyes blow wide, and he frowns. "Oh."

Evan fidgets, having no idea how to make this better for Gregory. "Do you want me to count to three, or...?"

"Just do it." Gregory puts that steely exterior on. "I can handle it. Just do what you need to do."

Evan feels awful; this must suck for Gregory. Even if the knife is small and not very deep, having something sharp ripped out of your flesh cant be fun. "If you're sure."

He props himself on his knees, getting as close to Gregory as possible, and wraps a hand firmly around the small handle of the wood carving knife.

He can see it in Gregory's eyes. Neither of them want to do this.

"Keep telling your story." Evan says softly. Maybe itll distract Gregory from it, even a little bit. And Evan, as well. He can already feel bile working it's way up his throat at the thought.

Gregory nods minutely, jaw locked and tense. He breathes out a bit. "...Kay. So, I'm trying to tell him that I'll leave if he let's me get my stuff, but hes really impatient, and when I dont leave right away, he tries to scare me away faster by beating me."

Evan winces, pointedly twisting his neck away from the knife, as he tightens his grip, anticipation sending lightning through his veins. "That explains the bruises." He says shakily.

Gregory pauses, waiting for something that doesn't come. "...Yeah. He uh, he got me pretty good... but he didnt leave unscathed either. But, I think I got it worse."

"Definitely." Evan agrees ghastily, his stomach rolling when he feels the cold handle of the knife pressing idents in his skin. "Keep going."

Gregory gives him a look, but continues. "...So when I start fighting back, even though I'm smaller, he took that as a bad thing, apparently, and wanted me gone so he didnt get hurt. So what does he do?"

Evan doesn't respond, just squeezing his eyes shut, biting his tongue, and ripping off the bandaid.

Evan rips the knife out with a quick flick of his shoulder, and gags when it makes a fleeting metal-on-flesh sound as its removed. Gregory lurches lightly next to him, making a garbled, suprised sound, and when it's over, just lays flat on the floor.

"G-God." Gregory coughs, stuttering. "Okay, that wasnt that bad. I guess."

"I'm sorry." Evan frets, flinching and dropping the knife on the towel when some of Gregory's blood drips down his fingers. "I'm sorry, Gregory."

"You didnt do it." Gregory chuckles, his face white as a sheet. He brings up an arm to clutch at a spot just above the wound on his chest. "Jesus."

"I'll fix you up." Evan says softly, setting a hand on Gregory's own and taking it away just as quickly when he rushes to go wash his hands. "Okay? It might hurt, but you'll be okay. I'll make sure of it."

"...Kay." Is all Gregory says, and Evan rushes faster when he just let's his head fall against the floor.

When Evan comes back, he all but dives onto the floor, grabbing the things he layed out on the carpet and beginning. "Gregory, hey!"

"What?" Gregory asks, and Evan sinks in relief when hes still awake. He rolls up Gregory's shirt, inspecting the wound, and he finds it looks more like just a deep cut than anything. "I know you're trying to stay awake, but I'm probably gonna have to find a way to close this cut, so you might want to go ahead and go to sleep."

Gregory pales. "Like, stitches?"

"Probably." Evan shudders. A wave of sickness washes over his body when he realizes hes probably gonna have to find a needle and thread, and stitch Gregory's flesh closed, even if the cut is only an inch or so long. "Better safe than sorry. And I really dont think having a wood carving knife stabbed into you, even if it wasnt that deep, is okay to just put a bandaid over."

"...Alright." Gregory sighs, and his head rolls against the floor, his body relaxing. "I don't want to be awake for that."

"Me neither." Evan huffs, and Gregory breathes the air of a laugh through his nose. "But I think you'll be okay. Just sleep, and you'll be patched up when you wake up."

Gregory sighs a deep sigh, and Evan thinks it sounds like deep relief just settled. "Okay. Thank you, Evan."

"Of course." Evan replies, and when Gregory shuts his eyes and no doubt falls asleep pretty quick, Evan glances around his room, and realizes hes gonna have to go on a scavenger hunt for a needle and thread.

He sighs, hoping and wishing that he wont run into his father or Michael when he has to venture out of the safety of his room, but he relaxes at the moment, taking in a deep breath and reaching for some supplies.

First, he has to clean the wound.

🐻

When Gregory creaks his eyes open, it's not to Evan's carpeted floor like he had expected. Well, he is on the floor, he finds when he finally takes in his surroundings. But he isnt laying down completely. Some pillows and blankets have been posed and laid around him, like a nest, and Evan is sitting next to him in the middle, scrolling and watching something on his phone.

Gregory twists his neck and puts pressure in his arm, trying to prop himself up. He yawns, and Evan startles, taking out the crappy Walmart earbuds he'd bought. "Gregory!"

"Hi." Gregory groans, feeling the effects of his fistfight and intense sprint take hold, his body groaning and aching with soreness at his movement. He feels warm; which is something he wasnt expecting when he'd initially thought he'd spend the span of the storm outside in it. "Ugh."

Evan shuts his phone off lays it and his earbuds on the blanket, twisting his torso and shimmying in his spot laying against a pillow against the wall and legs covered with a throw blanket to face him. "You probably dont feel too good."

"Like crap." Gregory agrees. When he shifts again, back and head cushioned against two pillows without cases on them, he can feel the sore sort of throbbing pain of whatever stitches Evan had sewn in him. He wrinkles his nose at the thought, feeling guilty on Evan's behalf. "But... the stitches feel secure. I'm sorry you had to do that, it must have sucked really hard."

"It did." Evan shudders, but chuckles at the same time. "You know, I had to go in my Moms room to get the needle and thread and steal the pills from my Dad."

Gregory quirks a brow. "What pills?" He asks at the same time Evan hands him a small bottle of Advil. "Oh."

Evan hands him some snacks, too. A water bottle and some crackers. He smiles softly and takes them, taking two Advil with a swig of the water bottle. "You did all that for me?" Gregory asks, voice small. "...I know you hate your Dad, and your parents would get mad at you if they saw you snooping."

"I know." Evan says, fidgeting with one of the blankets and laying his head on the pillow propped against the wall. "But I wanted you to feel better more than I was scared of my parents."

Theres a short stretch of silence after that, only the harsh rain and wind against the house being heard. Gregory stays silent, turning over Evan's words in his head.

His eyes burn slightly, but he pushes it down with precise practice. "Thank you" Is all he can find in him to say. Theres too many feelings, too many emotions he has to put them into words.

But Evan knows him, and Gregory knows he understands when he nods, and smiles that small, kind smile that just screams 'and I'd do it again'. "Of course." Evan insists, and looks away for a moment. "I want you to trust me, okay? I want to show you that if you come to me because you need help, I'll be here, and I wont discount you, or-- or shrug you off."

Gregory doesn't smile, but he feels warmth spread through his chest at that. Gregory knows Evan, so he knows exactly why he would want Gregory to feel that way. He knows exactly why Evan holds himself to that, even though Gregorys confident a lot of it has to do with just the kindness in Evan's own heart.

"I-I know." Gregory whispers. "I came here because I do trust you. I came here because I know that."

It's really hard for Gregory to say that, and he knows Evan understands, because he doesnt comment, just nods, relief sagging his shoulders.

Theres a short burst of silence for a moment, the two of them just soaking up the atmosphere of being warm and comfortable, despite the circumstances.

"You're staying here, by the way." Evan's voice rips him out of his thoughts suddenly, and Gregory snaps to attention to see Evan looking at him sternly, but worriedly. "I know you're gonna try to say something stupid about how you're fine to go back into the rain. You arent going anywhere near the city, alright? I don't care if the storm lasts a week. I'll find a way to hide you so Michael or my father dont find you, okay?"

Gregory snorts at Evan's intense voice, but his heart bursts all the same. "Okay, Evan. I promise."

"Good." Evan sounds appeased. He twists his body, reaching for something, and grabs his phone, putting one earbud in and giving Gregory the other. He opens YouTube, handing the phone to Gregory. "You can pick. Honor of the patient."

Gregory grins, giggling. "Thanks, Doctor Evan."

ao3 link

[hazbinpage]

My interpretation of human Alastor! Aka a doodle that got away from me lol

[edge-oftheworld]

starting to think no one in this fandom knows what dissociative disorders are

[theletterwsartflap]

So I posted this drawing on Reddit as well, and someone made a comment on it that’s been stewing in my brain ever since.

While I haven’t the faintest idea of who the villain could be, the idea was just too good to pass up. This is a rougher drawing since the holiday season has been so busy, but I just had to get the idea out!

and yeah I still refuse to accept Kingambit sitting all the time.

[thyandrawrites]

Any genshin fans here? Please tell me he's recognizable 😂 I tried very hard to get as many pieces of his outfit down, but genshin guys sure have a lot of difficult details to reproduce. Still, this was a fun challenge!

[morawcrumb]

Buses.

[katyspersonal]

Do 8, 10, 21 and 25 for the Bloodborne fandom. I am curious

(Asks from this ( x ) meme)

8) common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

It is kind of a hard question, because opinions are opinions! They are not supposed to be right OR wrong! I suppose that some of them do fall on the territory of lacking perspective, and in that case I'd say insisting on how Yharnam is Victorian London! To be honest, again, everything in Bloodborne is off-brand and Yharnam has several inspirations, but like... there is the Czech clocktower, there is off-brand Nikola Tesla with his inventions, names like Micolash an Iosefka, and there is Polish language on the graves in Hemwick!

Yharnam is as Slavic as you can get come on fdsjdffds

21) part of canon you think is overhyped

Hard to tell, sometimes it feels like almost nothing in the fandom gets enough attention on the contrary! I am not sure if this is just the small fandom problem, or the problem of the source material being too good, but no matter what aesthetic, lore piece or character dynamic got a lot of attention it ALL feels deserved! I used to think that maybe Choir was getting "too much" attention and eclipsed the rest of the covenants in fanart, but again, 1) they ARE interesting and appealing enough and 2) the sense of one hyped thing 'robbing the spotlight' from another is usually a mistake, people are naturally drawn to what they like and if it didn't exist it is not like all that attention would 'instead' go to more neglected bits! In other words, everything in Bloodborne deserves its attention AND more!

25) common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

Kinda tired of the complaints about how Maria and sometimes other female characters are drawn! Not because they are not true, but because they never will REACH their target audience! People that draw Maria with big hips and tiddies and no hint of strength simply do not GO on the websites like Tumblr or Twitter! I don't really see the reason of recycling this complaint specifically in the spaces where people that do draw female characters like this will not even receive this feedback. I can't be 100% free from hypocrisy on this one though because I also sometimes vagueblog rather than addressing what I disagree with directly (in my defence though usually it happens because I physically can't message the person fdhhfds).

But basically, it feels like people have trapped themselves with the whole "never offer unsolicited criticism" mentality and thus can't post criticism UNDER those inaccurate fanarts. The 'treat others like you want to be treated' can and WILL be a bitch, so we're left with frantic posts about how this or that character should be drawn, in the place where everyone already draws this character accurately, so it gets jarring! I am an asshole that will go in people's DMs about drawings to tell them that Henryk's skin is not so pale, that Damian/Yurie/Henriett/etc have grey eyes and not blue and that Malenia is NOT built like Barbie doll so maybe this is why I do not understand the point?

10) worst part of fanon

[archaeos]

Trying to write anything on the colonisation of North America is just the constant recognition that it's racism all the way down...

[owlsdrawinglair]

Ok so I just had a tought, so you know how in the first movie Grace dies while being transferred to her Avatar body, ok so my tought is, what if Eywa didn't want her to die? Like, she tried her best to give her another chance to live in her Avatar body but she simply couldn't cos Grace was too weak, but she still saw and felt all the good stuff Grace did and somehow still wanted her to live and do even more good stuff. So she decided to give her a child, maybe she couldn't save her but she could make someone who can carry one her legacy, aka Kiri. I mean, that would explain why those gold fish would constantly follow her, why she could hold her breath longer then anybody and why those plant thingies listened to her during the RDA battle scene when she has to defend herself, Ao'nung and Roxto (+ that scene while they were still in the jungle when she "fell asleep" and it started moving). It would also explain why she could hear Eywas heartbeat and why she had a seizure when she was connected to the underwater Tree of souls when she asked Grace who is her father (Eywa probably tought she can't know yet). In conclusion,

KIRI IS A LITERAL CHILD OF EYWA

[wowbright]

Redemptive (?) Violence in Two Scorsese Films: Goncharov (1973) and Silence (2016)

Tons has been written about the parallels between Goncharov and Scorsese's other mafia movies. But thematically, i wonder if we're not collectively missing something by considering its similarities to Scorsese's definitively non-mafia masterpiece, Silence (2016).

On the surface, these two movies don't seem to have a lot in common. Goncharov is--well, you know the plot. Silence (2016), on the other hand, is a historical drama about a persecuted Christian community in feudal Japan. And man, is it brutal. More brutal then all of Scorsese's mafia films combined. (I'm not joking here. After the initial scenes, I could not continue watching this film in increments longer than 5 minutes. It's a good film--a great film--but I absolutely do not recommend watching it to anyone.)

Silence, for those who aren't familiar, follows a pair of Portuguese Jesuit priests trying to shepherd their Japanese parish through government persecution. It's hard to watch because it's just one brutal martyrdom after martyrdom in this small community.

But unlike with cinematic narratives of Joan of Arc or even of the crucifixion of Christ himself, nothing good seems to come out of this sacrificial violence. We see people being burned alive, being crucified, being humiliated and tortured and killed in a myriad of ways--and there is no redemption in it. The martyrs don't express unalloyed joy in the face of their suffering. The musical score never wells up to ensure us that, yes, this pain and death was worth it.

It's just grim and awful and meaningless.

It's so bad that the Portuguese Jesuit missionary who serves as a priest in the community starts begging the believers to deny Christ publicly. They can believe it in their hearts, in the safety of their homes and village, but if anyone asks, they are not Christian. He assures them God will forgive them, because he cannot imagine this meaningless slaughter is what God wants.

Ultimately, Christians in the audience are prompted to wonder if even the crucifixion of Christ was worth it, if it was truly redemptive, or if it was just as grim and bleak and purposeless as every death portrayed in the film.

When I rewatch Goncharov, I see a young Scorsese struggling with the same themes. Sure, the characters in the film are terrible people, nothing like the good-hearted Japanese peasants portrayed in Silence. But Scorsese plays with the same ideas around redemptive violence. In Christianity, the death of martyrs is supposed to be redemptive by instructing and giving hope to other Christians. In Goncharov, we expect the deaths of Ice Pick Joe and Bruno and all those other horrible people to be redemptive in the sense that they are getting their just desserts, and by sacrificing them on the altar of death, we *should* be saving countless lives (because they can no longer kill).

But in Goncharov, these deaths are just as meaningless as the ones in Silence. Nothing good comes out of these people dying; the slaughter continues unabated. If anything, the pace increases, and the characters we thought could be redeemed fall further and further into hopelessness and despair.

The problem with Goncharov, and Scorsese's other mafia movies, is that the thrill of living underground, of having an alternate society, of pursuing riches and power at the expense of good--all those things seduce the viewer into romanticizing the struggles the characters go through. Scorsese's point might be that the violence is pointless and better avoided, but the audience is hesitant to adopt the same view.

So in a very real sense, Silence is a continuation of what Scorsese was trying to do with Goncharov. 40-plus years on in his career, though, Scorsese has learned to strip away every vestige of romanticism to ensure he gets his point across. No one is rich, no one is sexy. No one is engaged in a decades-long quest for revenge. No one is trying to set things right, to correct things, to make things even.

In Silence, violence is stripped down to its true essentials. It is cruel. It is unjust. It offers no hope.

These are also the things that Goncharov communicates. But they are communicated in a more palatable form, in a film you don't have to pause every 5 minutes just to get through, in a narrative where you can distract yourself with glamor and romance and what-ifs.

Look, I'm not condemning Goncharov fans for enjoying those things about the movie. Scorsese wanted you to enjoy them. He put them in there so you could actually get through the movie and receive its message at the end.

There's a risk that you won't get the message. But there's also a risk that you won't get the message in Silence, because chances are you're going to stop watching it before it's even finished.

And carrying out that narrative in both ways--in one version that is glamorized and easy to swallow, in another that is sparse and almost impossible to bear-- that's its own kind of genius.