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#its hits too hard
spearxwind · 9 months
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I purchased a little freak recently and I'm completely obsessed with him
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nocofamilyau · 3 months
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man how messed up is he? (3/24)
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i wanted to put Wally in my Barbie movie fit <3 he's gonna go watch it with his bestie
it backfired <3 poor thing's in a crisis
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rbtlvr · 6 months
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(text from this post, fic is little kid with a big death wish by @remedyturtles)
i'm genuinely not sure where to start here - ig first of all this fic is absolutely incredible and if you somehow haven't read it yet you absolutely should!
okay. man. rem, this fic means so so much to me and i'm so glad i got to be here for it. i think this is one of those fics that'll stick with me years down the line even if one day i'm not into tmnt anymore, one i'll come back to over and over again
your writing has touched so so many people myself very much included, and i just. want to thank you so much for writing this fic and thank you for sharing it. you're an amazing writer and an amazing person and i'm lucky to know you. i can't wait to see what you do next
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birdricks · 4 months
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the really interesting thing about mortys fear of relying on rick is that it really does go both ways. like as much as hes afraid of needing rick... rick needs him just as much, if not more. and i think this ties into mortys fear of having to be responsible for ricks sadness.
there are SO many times where morty threatens to leave rick... just as rick constantly reminds morty that he can be replaced.
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the difference is that morty COULD leave rick behind if he really wanted to. and he could probably be okay without him. but hell always come back to rick... because thats how hes meant to be. a mortys defining trait is how he will always put rick and his emotions first.
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we can see this in evil morty and how he was able to escape the cycle simply by no longer caring about ricks feelings. what makes him different isnt being evil... its simply no longer prioritising the feelings of rick over his own.
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like how many times do we see morty choosing to stay with rick despite everything rick puts him through? and i think this is partly where his forgiveness comes from. of course he does truly love rick and that plays into it, but hes also terrified of what might happen without him there to fall back on.
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any time rick feels he might lose morty he spirals and lashes out in some weird manipulative way to keep morty reliant on him (which is ironically the very thing morty fears most).
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and whenever he DOES lose morty for any amount of time he turns into a complete wreck. probably part of the fear of his own reliance on rick comes from knowing its largely manufactured by rick and not fully his own choice.
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even WITH morty there to support him rick is incredibly prone to suicidal ideation and self destructive tendencies. its not hard to work out what would happen if morty was no longer around to cater to his emotions.
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so he stays. of course its awful for him. but he does it. hes willing to sacrifice himself and his own emotions to save rick over and over again. because he knows what will happen if he doesnt.
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nellasbookplanet · 7 months
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The more time I sink into andromeda, the more I suspect the biggest reason it ultimately failed commercially was because of the massive tonal shift I've already mentioned, and how there was probably a pretty big chunk of original trilogy players who simply no longer fit as a demographic, while the game failed to reach the people who might’ve enjoyed it.
The original trilogy, much as I love it, feels a little bit like a wishfulfillment power fantasy for a very obvious demographic. Almost all women are overtly sexy in design and the f/f relationship in the first game seems to be written along the guidelines of 'what would a straight man find hot'; you play as someone cool and confident and powerful, the most specialest human ever, and maybe you aren’t always respected but YOU and the NARRATIVE always know you're right and you get to be rude to and sometimes punch/murder people who disagree with you so it’s fine. The game then salvages all this by means of genuinely well-written characters and arcs, really cool sci-fi tech and lore, a fantastic story, and meaningful and hard-hitting choices and consequences (which also allow and often encourage you to steer away from that exact macho ideal).
Enter andromeda. Instead of being a super powerful supersoldier from the start, you're the kid of one. You barely know what you're doing. Everyone doubts you, including yourself. You don’t get the assuredness of knowing you are Right and Cool that you have as Shepard. You don’t demand that same respect. And I'm sure there are a lot of people who hated that.
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bitchthefuck1 · 1 month
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It's kind of funny that Kendall and Shiv are both equally delusional about their ability to charm people for business and somehow think they can do it even though they choke almost every single time, whereas it's like the one thing Roman is consistently good at despite being the "least legitimate" option.
I think part of this comes down to the fact that Shiv and Kendall both have very clear ideas of the versions of themselves they're trying to be and the images they're trying to project, and they're trying so hard to be seen that way that they end up coming off as a little desperate and off-putting. Meanwhile Roman "knows" that there's something wrong with him and he's worthless, so he doesn't get sucked into the trap of trying to force people to see his idea of himself and instead molds himself into whatever he thinks the other person wants from him because that's the only way he can compensate for "being him," which works very well in the short term but also means he's the least capable of maintaining any relationship for very long because he has no sense of self.
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torturedpoetsdeprtmnt · 3 months
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the brothers sun is like here's our action dramedy about triads and power struggle then it hits you hard with the complex nature of familial relationships; like the eldest is bearing the weight of the family's legacy and is his father's greatest weapon, the youngest has been sheltered from the truth of their family's history and is his mother's greatest joy (and her greatest weakness), neither has ever been given a choice regarding their life path, they briefly resent what the other brother represents, they love each other to the point of willing to do anything to protect the other, they want the other to have a good life where they can finally choose for once and each are willing to make sacrifices to make that happen
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ackee · 3 months
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fullmetal alchemist fans ready to repeat the same joke about dogs theyve used the last almost 15 yrs
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matoitech · 1 month
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i know i have an addiction to making buff men with big arms and nice pecs but this one came to me in a vision. he has a bleached blond buzzcut and a massive c *im dragged off stage*
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bleaksqueak · 23 days
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Since I posted some of my old fanart yesterday... if you're not familiar with Slayers, and thus have never heard its amazing music, do check it out. It's largely by the same songwriter, Masami Okui, that did Utena's iconic opening (Rinbu Revolution) and ofc (TRUTH) and sung by a duo of her and Hayashibara Megumi (you know, the GOAT)
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The entire OST pretty much slaps. there's only a couple of bad image songs in an absolute expanse of pure gold. GIVE A REASON, the opening to the second season, tends to be the reigning favorite. (I've a hard time pinning down my absolute favorite... of the original openings, it might be Breeze, but all three are so good. Of the entire catalog? Impossible to choose. Midnight Blue, Raging Waves, Within my Unlimited Desires, Gloria, Get Along... Impossible Choice)
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aether-weather · 7 months
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SAGESUNE MIKU >:DDD
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sekai au 👊😔
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dailykugisaki · 3 months
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Day ninety-five | id in alt
Long time no Nanami💥
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tazmiilly · 2 years
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roommate shenanigans
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Total $hit$how: Good Cop
in which Jericho cracks a wall
cw: aftermath of violence, adult language
previous // masterlist //
×~×~×
When Harbor's hour was almost up, Jericho made his way back to the briefing room, a hopeful plan at the ready and a nervous feeling in his gut, every step closer to the door jiggling at his nerves like jello.
The word interrogation didn't exactly fill his head with pleasant images. In movies, it was usually portrayed as torture, ineffective on the protagonist but shockingly useful against any minions the heroes snatched for intel. In real life, he'd experienced something like it once or twice. Corporate cronies trying to grill a confession out of him; entrapping questions intended to get him to admit to anything they could twist into something worthy of an arrest. Those were some of the scariest moments of his life, and even though he'd insisted on his own ignorance, in the end he was only saved by a lack of evidence of his hacking activities (hacktivities?).
Jericho's own encounters had been pretty mild, but he still wasn't eager to put anyone else through it. 
Then again, this was just a challenge, wasn't it? Succeeding didn't mean they'd suddenly be required to hurt Finley, it only meant Sahota wouldn't kill her. If they managed to win, maybe they could pursue Joy's original idea and just talk to the woman. Whether she was a hardened criminal or not, surely she'd be willing to help if she knew the safety of the city was on the line.
…But that was all a big if. Unless Harbor had managed to pull a trick out of his hat, no one had been successful so far, which left Jericho. Jericho going toe-to-toe against Sahota's boundless willpower. No big deal, just a stranger's life hanging in the balance.
If he failed, could they still back out?
There were other avenues. Both Sahota and Vic had been clear on that, but the group's own insistence had gotten them to this point. If they completely gave up on Finley as a lead now, they'd have just wasted a day, and he doubted Vic would be very happy about that, but between wasting a day and throwing away an entire person, Jericho knew what he'd choose. 
From the moment the challenge was announced, he knew what method he'd be using. Bad-cop good-cop, sans the bad-cop. In his experience, difficult people could be swayed to a cause if the reason behind it was just explained, if he pled to their humanity and compassion. And sure, some people were so far up their own bias that they'd refuse to listen, but it was worth a try.
Hell, it was how he got Ari to take a chance on asparagus. 
He was prepared to act on the same technique he'd use if they actually won, if they got a chance with Finley: Just talk. A conversation might be all they needed. The Reality Cage was potentially destructive. If Finley knew that, knew what was at stake, wouldn't she help them? It wasn't even as if she'd be responsible for destroying it. She'd just have to tell them how. Some part of her had to exist that would want them to succeed, to save people.
Jericho was inclined to believe that the same could be said about Sahota. He'd given them this chance in the first place, hadn't he? Why let them try at all, unless he wasn't too keen on killing Finley either? If that was true, if this was more than just a lesson in their own inadequacy, Jericho had hope that this whole mission wouldn't wind up as violent as he feared.
Footsteps drew his attention back to the corridor ahead, and he looked up to see Harbor, head drooping, wild multicolored hair obscuring his face. His walk was usually something between a sway and a stumble, but it looked more erratic now, with him nearly bumping into the walls as he went.
“Hey,” Jericho started, but his voice caught when his gaze landed on Harbor's hands. His knuckles were red, skin splitting in some places, blood drying in the lines of his fingers. Totally cut up, and not from the morning’s sparring matches, so that meant… Jericho’s stomach twisted.
Sahota.
Harbor didn't look up, passing right by him as if he wasn't even aware he was there.
“Harbor—”
“Fuck off,” he said in a voice that sounded bitten off, and disappeared around the corner. Jericho had to stop himself from chasing after the other man, from asking what happened.
It was pretty clear what had happened, but why? Harbor was rough around the edges, but he didn't seem like the kind of person who enjoyed hurting someone else, especially not a someone else who was already injured. A part of him hoped that he was jumping to conclusions, that Harbor had just… punched the wall or something to try and intimidate their trainer. But before he made it to the end of the hall, before he could even open the door, he knew what he would see.
An anxious sort of nausea built in Jericho’s stomach as he took in the scene, deliberately avoiding the focus of it as long as he could. The briefing room had been cleared, the big table pushed to one side to make space for the day's challenge. 
In the center, tied to a chair, sat Sahota. Blood and spit hung from his face in sticky strands, and his head sat heavy atop his shoulders, like he was struggling to keep it up. His cheek was split, the cut on his lip reopened and dribbling blood, and the eye that had been bruised was now nearly swollen shut.
Jericho’s heart beat faster. 
“Is your plan just to stand there?” Sahota mumbled. “Or do you have a better idea?”
And he was just acting like it hadn’t happened. Jericho had already gathered that Sahota didn't like to show any weakness, but this was bigger than pride. Their trainer had been hurt, while he was tied down, by someone who was supposed to be on their team.
“Are you okay?” He clearly wasn't.
“Fine.”
“Did Harbor do this?” Why was he asking such stupid, obvious questions? Why couldn't he make himself step forward to untie the other man? Because of how little he wanted to believe it was true? Because of how surreal it was?
“I… I told him to,” Sahota replied.
What? Hadn’t he warned them all not to do anything he couldn’t sleep off? No matter how tough Sahota was, this didn’t look like it fell into that category.
“Let me cut you loose,” Jericho said, finally breaking a leg free of the uncertainty that held it captive, taking a step closer.
“No,” Sahota said, and he froze in his tracks. “Do what you came to do or get out. I don’t need your help.”
Jericho grimaced. “Should we really continue? You should get cleaned up, maybe—”
“I said I'm fine.”
Same song, different verse. He'd said he was fine yesterday, even after they'd all seen the video that so clearly told them he wasn't. 
“Sahota…”
“Davis,” he answered in a clipped tone. “If you can't ignore the blood, leave.” He took a shaky breath, coughed, sent little flecks of red flying. “Tell me what information you're after and pursue it, or get out.”
Jericho exhaled through clenched teeth. It was pretty clear that no matter what he said, their trainer was determined to suffer through this. Was there any point in continuing? He could just leave. Walk away, abandon Sahota to his own wounds and pride, but it didn't feel right. What would happen? How long would it take Sahota to get free on his own? Better to finish the exercise and hope his trainer allowed help after it was completed.
“Okay,” he said, letting out a resigned sigh. “I want to know your first name. That’s what I’m after.”
“Then get on with it.”
Jericho took a deep breath. Ignore the blood. How was he supposed to do that?
“Hey,” he began, forcing a smile. “My… uh, my name's Jericho. I have a few questions for you, and…” he couldn't stay on track with this. He couldn't just pretend Sahota wasn't actively in pain in front of him.
“And I'd like to apologize for any rough treatment you received before I got here. It… that wasn't my intention,” he said. “I didn't want to hurt you.”
Sahota scoffed. It sounded closer to a wheeze. “Do you think Finley will buy that?”
“I don't… Maybe.” Jericho sighed. “Let me start again. Hey,” he said. “You… uh, you have some information that I need. Pretty badly." Everything he said just sounded dumb. "I want to know your name. Sounds weird, I know, but this… you could help me stop a lot of people from getting hurt.”
“What if she doesn't care?” Sahota said.
“There's hundreds of thousands of people in this city,” Jericho continued, trying not to let the other man's words deter him. “Right now, all of them are at risk. If you’ll just work with me here, we can keep them safe.”
Sahota didn't answer. And really, he had a point. Even if Finley did care about the well-being of the city, she’d have no reason to believe anything they said. How could they convince her?
“My family doesn't live here,” Jericho tried. He was truly thankful that they didn't. Having to worry about their safety, their potential destruction at the hands of an uncaring company would be terrible.
“My mom, daughter, aunts, uncles, cousins… they're not the ones in danger," he continued. "But people like them are. I’d never be able to sleep again if something just… destroyed people's lives. Something I could've prevented.” He clasped his hands together, hoped the motion looked sincere. “That's why I'm here. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be your enemy. I just want to help people.”
Jericho sighed when that didn't get a response. He shouldn't be too disheartened. Sahota probably just didn't have much energy for conversation. Not after Harbor… did that. He glanced down at his own knuckles, still sore from fighting the taserbots just a few days ago. He'd saved Harbor. He’d thought they were finally starting to meld together and work as a team, but teammates didn't do this to each other. Even if Sahota had ordered it, why would he take it that far?
“I'm sorry about what happened,” he said. “I know someone on my team hurt you.” He swallowed. “Whoever… whoever touched you was in the wrong. You didn't deserve to be hurt like that, and… I'm sorry.” He was. He really was. He'd need to find Harbor after this. They could talk it out.
“I won't let it happen again,” Jericho said. “If someone tries to touch you, just let me know, okay? I'll stop them. I know I'm basically a stranger, but I promise I want to help you. I promise you're not alone. I—”
He stopped at an odd noise. A catch in Sahota's breath, a sound that was oddly familiar but out of place. It took a second for Jericho to realize that Ari made a sound just like it sometimes. When she was trying not to cry.
“Sahota?”
No answer, just another shaky inhale. Shoot, he knew he shouldn't have proceeded, not when he was all beat up like this. Even with Finley on the line… Vic be damned, he'd fight for it to be nothing more than a wasted day. He was fine abandoning the lead, he was fine admitting defeat here.
He wasn't fine leaving Sahota like this.
Jericho exhaled sharply through his nose, crossing the room in two strides to reach the chair their trainer was strapped to and setting to work on the knots. Surprisingly, Sahota didn't tell him off this time, just sat with his head bent and his shoulders shaking.
Why was he crying? Of course, Jericho couldn't blame him. He was probably overwhelmed with everything that was going on, and this was just the straw that had broken the camel's back. But what was ‘this’? What had been his breaking point? Had something he said triggered it?
He fumbled with the ropes, eventually managing to find a weak point in each knot and pull them loose, letting the bindings coil to the floor.
Now with his arms free, Sahota buried his face in his hands.
“Fuck,” he whispered in a thick voice. “I… I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Jericho said, taking a step back. The other man refused to look up. He could understand if he was embarrassed. Holding up an emotionless, unshakable facade all the time must be exhausting, but it would also be jarring to ever let it drop. He got it.
“The exercise is over,” Sahota said, still not raising his head.
“Alright.” Jericho couldn't let himself be mad about it. He'd given it a try, but if their trainer was just too overwhelmed right now, and no way was Jericho going to push him further. They could worry about Finley later. “Seriously though, are you okay?” he said. “There's no shame in not being fine. I know you're under a lot of stress.”
It took a moment for the other man to respond. “Go wait by the mats. I need to reset this room.”
I need some time alone.
“Okay,” Jericho said softly, backing towards the door. “Do you… want a hand getting patched up?”
“I'll handle it.”
Alright. He wouldn't push him. “Okay,” he said again. “I… guess I'll give you some space.” 
It felt like it was all for nothing. Their idea for a peaceful approach had already resulted in violence, and for what? They’d all failed. They were no closer to their goal than they'd been yesterday. 
He had one foot out the door when Sahota called after him.
“Davis.” It wasn't loud. It sounded uncertain, like he might ‘nevermind’ him and send him on his way. Jericho turned around, determined to be patient, to show he was at least willing to listen, even if their trainer said nothing else. But instead of sitting silent, instead of ordering him off, Sahota spoke. His head stayed bowed, hands tangled tightly around each other, eyes on the floor.
“It's Ander,” he said. “My name is Ander.”
×~×~×
tag list:
@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight
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