#I JUST HAVE A LOT OF EMOTIONS OK

[revenantghost]

Wolfwood executing Rolo in front of Vash and then justifying it as a mercy killing because he sees himself in Rolo will never not fuck me right up

[icarus-enthroned]

i'm so intrigued by the choice to include that final scene in the cemetery with buck + tommy

buck's speech to billy was so wholesome + fully encapsulates why i adore him

this show has so many cemetery scenes + i'm curious to see how this one might connect to the others thematically

...oh no... i'll have to rewatch the entire series...

...oh no...

[cerebrobullet]

Sharpe Rewatch 4- Sharpe's Enemy (1994)

tonight's theme is:

(this is a lie, tonight's theme is actually me crying over teresa)

alright, starting off I have strong feelings about harper sitting on top of his captain, protectively pushing him back down to the ground with a big 'ol hand on the back of his head. then sharpe just kind... accepting his fate and curling up in the middle of a pile of his boys. i cannot label what exact emotion it gives me, but OH BOY it's an Emotion.

side note: sharpe says the chosen men were acting under his orders so.... were his orders to.... have fun? lol

fuck i take it back i AM gonna cry over this epsidoe. look at how happy sharpe and teresa are!!!!

i DID forget just how much teresa roasts farthingdale for insulting her hubby. amazing, #realtionshipgoals #girlboss, i'm gonna gif it later.

sharpe telling harper "don't name it after me" about his kid with ramona, only for sharp turn around and name his own son patrick. excuse me, rude.

i also hadn't noticed before that teresa is sewing a lil rifleman doll and now i want to cry again.

She gives it braids later? so i guess it's supposed to be of antonia in her daddy's uniform ;A;

now a bit i still don't understand is the, like, cooking lesson aside that happens in the middle of the hostage exchange? ... that's it, idk, it like doesn't effect the plot at all. just weird to me.

but, ah, anyway, frederickson!!! i love him! i wish he showed up more often, but i appreciate him most in sharpe's revenge, doing all the leg work to save sharpe's ass. he's just fun! i just think he's neat!

sharpe literally swallowing the urge to burst out laughing tho *chef kiss*

but the "why do i always have to wear the dress, sir?" from perkins makes me wonder just how many times they've played the "disguise one of us in a dress" card and why i didn't get to see every single situation this was their answer to. robbed, robbed of good content.

hey now let's talk about a cinematic parallel that i hate. it's this:

( : im fucking dying and i hate everything

"I lied. my wife taught me. she taught me many things."

*lays down on ground, cries fucking eyes out* THIS STILL ISN'T FAIR. just the IDEA of it- sharpe already has an Emotional Thing about the guy who taught him to read and write, and then he gets himself a badass literal #girlboss wife who teaches him how to speak french, teaches him how to chill out a bit as leader, teaches him such soft things. a woman who's been through rough shit, just like he has. he's so proud and amazed of her, every time he speaks of her. and then it's... just all gone.

him kissing the sword as he salutes teresa's grave makes me physically unwell

now, i do want to know how duco manages to keep his head when literally every single thing he claims in regards to sharpe ends up biting him in the ass. you'd think after the second time maybe people would, idk, not trust him judgement...

ok. i'm... im just gonna sit here and cry now.

this was somehow worse the second time around. probably because i'm going through theses so much slower. and i like it most when sharpe has someone to come back to, rather then doing the new girl of the week thing. though jane is.... well. jane is jane. we don't talk about jane.

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[artsymeeshee]

Random idea I got this morning thinking about how small little things (mostly about missing important moments of the past) make the boys emotional and sorrowful.

[fisherrprince]

Instead of writing a fanfic like a normal person this oneshot turned into two separate, contextless things,

[tshortik]

I love you messy artstyle i love you visible brush strokes I love you textures and rough edges I love you imperfections I love you roughness and colour blobs I love you scratchy sketches and bold stylisation and dirt and imperfections I love you ugly and raw emotion!!!!! ❤️

[arcanegifs]

Happy Mother's Day to our Arcane Moms ♡

[luna-loveboop]

I want. Four to get appreciation. Because

Four gave a ton of unnoticed help when Twilight was injured

The fight with Wild was difficult, and I know we're all concerned about his negative view of the shadow crystal

But Four did something that no one else really thought of to help- He took care of Twi's stuff

From the beginning he told Twilight to not worry about them

So Four took care of pretty much everything but the others (that Sky and Wars handled)

He took care of Epona

Which is so very important- he took care of Twilight's horse. After her arrival at the stable Four followed up on her

And for Epona, a horse so attached to her human, having some company can help so much for reassurance

He took care of Twilight's stuff

He got Twi's shield- his bags and equipment, and organized it into one place

And he was worried. He obviously found the shadow crystal while handling Twi's stuff, but his negative reactions to it were out of concern.

Also- because of his placement in this scene

I'm fairly convinced Four was ready to start cooking before Wild showed up (since he's beside the counter with food supplies). At the very least he had the basket of fruit out for everyone -but he was literally standing with food behind him- he thought of everything

And he did housekeeping!

Wars payed for the inn, so Four took care of the inn

Realistically these boys were probably not too concerned with tidyness. Four got all of Twi's things on one table, and took care of the room they stayed in

Organizing tables and Twi's things, having food supplies ready, and opening the curtains- overall he was the one tidying up the inn

Four helped in a huge way! He took care of Twi's horse (Epona is so important), his equipment and shield and bag, as well as the other rooms in the inn

Four filled in all the little tasks that others didn't think of. He helped in ways that were needed, but not obvious

There's a lot of problems with the shadow crystal and with Wild, and I don't know what's gonna happen in the future

But don't forget this- don't forget that Four was one who stepped up in an almost unnoticeable way

Don't forget that when everyone was barely holding it together, Four visited Twilight's horse and took care of his things

No matter what develops in the future- this amount of care shown is important ya know?

.

Art and comic from Jojo @linkeduniverse au :)))

[jade-len]

i think it'd be funny if someone transmigrated as xin mo. the goddamn evil sword. instead of taking it seriously, they just really fucked around with bingge. and, somehow, ended up having the opposite effect of what it's supposedly rumored to do.

picture this: bingge, on the quest for revenge and power, comes across the almighty xin mo. this demonic sword killed everyone that dared to even try wielding it. and, the few who were lucky enough to have it by their side, eventually succumbed to the swords' will.

it is said that the sword is unlike any other, that it etches into your head and eats away your brain, until eventually it consumes you whole. it whispers, speaking in lust, greed, and hatred. it slowly beckons the wielder into giving in to the worst part of themselves and feeds off of pure sin. but to him, it is no matter; luo bingge will surely tame it.

and then he gets to the sword.

demonic qi practically oozes from xin mo. the aura surrounding it makes every part of luo bingge scream, "run; get away, away from that monster." his gut prods at him, begging bingge that this is probably a really bad idea. it's a little terrifying, how even luo bingge, the determined, vengeful demon, is now getting second thoughts about wielding xin mo from just being in its presence alone.

but luo bingge is too, a monster. so he ignores the screams of plea; pushing every thought of doubt in the back of his head, and tightly grips onto the handle. the world around him seems to spin and shake, tumble and crack, from the amount of force bingge needs to use in order to pull the sword of sin out of its place.

when bingge finally has it perfectly fit into the palms of his calloused hands, he hears whispering. he knows that the sword has accepted him as its new host.

the sword's language crawls up to him, as if it were feeling around his body and mind. checking every nook and cranny for it to settle into bingge's form, truly becoming one with the embodiment of sin. the words flow through his brain like a tragically broken guqin, a melody that holds him in a frighteningly familiar trance - all while simultaneously eating away at his brain in the worst ways possible, akin to a child and their favorite snack. it seems to beckon something, but even with luo bingge's impressive hearing, he cannot make out any words from the tone-deaf musical notes xin mo sings.

and then, it is clear. the land around him settles, and everything is still. xin mo itself seems to be.. content. at least, that is what luo bingge believes.

the language of this wretched sword reflects the state around these two monsters.

luo bingge expects it to demand for bloodshed, for the erotic ecstasy of multiple women, for bingge to steal the last of the finest gems of these horrible, vast lands.

instead, he hears this:

"yoooo damn that shit was crazy. did you see what i did there? man, you know, it feels so fucking good to get out of the dirt. hey, do you know if people can like, feed their swords or something? i'm kinda craving something spicy. we never know, in this wack world! wait, don't hold me like that, buddy. it'll make things real awkward."

but luo bingge is determined to get his revenge, so he puts up with the swords' constant rambling about.. whatever the hell it's thinking.

"wait, dude, did you seriously fuck a dying girl? that's wild. yeah, like i know she was dying but it doesn't sound like you wanted it. yo, listen to me, consent is very sexy."

"HAHA hey, dude, sir, man. you wanna play some 'i spy'? we don't have anything else to do. no? too bad, we're playing it. i spy a loser who doesn't wanna play i spy. hint: he's holding me right now."

"okay i know i'm supposed to be this super evil sword and beg to be used - woah that sounded real wrong - but can you at least clean me when you're done killing shit? if you don't, i'm gonna refuse to respond to you and you'll look like a dumbass trying to wield me."

"i can't hear you lalalalalalala you're not being very it girl right now lallalalaalalalla-"

somehow, this is worse than if xin mo was actually eating away at his brain.

weirdly enough though, as luo bingge starts spending more time with this weird ass, seemingly possessed sword, it starts to become more of a.. comfort to have it by his side than pure annoyance. he finds himself responding to it more, like, actually having full on conversations with it. it puts him at ease, wielding xin mo. the hatred doesn't consume him, instead, it seems to soothe the burning rage (and, admittedly, just replace it with small irritation) that holds onto his darkened heart.

xin mo is actually quite kind and caring, for a sword that's supposed represent and be the literal embodiment of sin. sure, it is a hassle to have it cooperate with him sometimes, and it does just ramble on and on about the most random things ever, not giving a single shit if bingge was in the middle of sleeping with maidens and slaying those who get in his way. for the first time, bingge feels so comfortable around something.

it's.. odd. what was supposed to be the turning point in his life, a big step in his plan for revenge, is now something akin to an... acquaintance. not like mobei-jun, or any of the women he's come across, but an actual, dare he say, friend.

sometimes, he finds himself thinking all of this delusional. is this what people were driven mad by? perhaps they simply could not handle dealing with a talking sword. he understands that xin mo was undoubtedly unbearable to be around at the beginning of their alliance, but it has never actually beckoned for blood, power, and sex. if anything, it does the opposite.

maybe he's the delusional one. maybe this is xin mo's way of getting to him.

maybe, xin mo should be considered a thing. the thought feels terribly laughable, as if he were witnessing a person horribly explain themselves. it also makes his teeth grind together in pure agitation.

"hey, you know, you didn't deserve any of the things they did. it wasn't your fault, binghe. the fact that you're half heavenly demon doesn't make you a monster, or any of that wild stuff.. uh, i'm here for you, okay? i know you don't really like talking about all of this or opening up, but i just want you to know that you can.. talk about it. it's not like i can tell anyone else, anyways.

hey- shit i didn't mean to make you cry! wait, wait it's okay to cry! you need to let it out anyways, i promise it doesn't make you weak. there, there. i don't have any hands, so me patting you on the head with my handle will have to do. there, there.. everything will be alright, you'll be okay. i'll be here every step of the way, even if you want to get rid of me."

xin mo, the demonic sword, is more of a person - a good person - than anyone he'd ever come across.

...and then bingge and the xin mo transmigrator become besties or he falls for the damn sword. knowing him, he probably doesn't even know the difference between platonic and romantic attraction anyways. maybe bingge gets a plant body for xin mo using airplane's wack writing. idk i typed all of this down in one sitting.

(plot twist: it's not that the transmigrator xin mo had the opposite effect, it was literally just a placebo effect. luo bingge thought that, and thus it actually did help him lmao)

[rbtlvr]

(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

[puppyeared]

learning abt friendship decay and "not reaching out to your friends for months at a time unprompted is not neurotypical behaviour" has me feeling a certain way

[grand-line-shenanigans]

Schrodinger's Igogusa. Or something

[imma-lil-sunshy]

Maria is a 12~ year old human girl who Shadow "grew up" with

Amy who is a hedgehog of approximate age to Shadow-

a) Amy has no discernable features/qualities that denote her as a significantly younger hedgehog than Sonic, as opposed to say the way that Cream and Tails are clearly in younger stages (mannerisms, height, dialogue, etc implies this)

b) Shadow is of a different time but I don't think anybody counts 50 years sleeping in a pod in stasis, and if majority ship is sonadow (which I love) we have reason to believe Shadow is of similiar age range to Sonic, Knuckles, Rouge and Amy

c) I remember the crew had ages at one point, after things like Frontier and Boom, I really think they're just in a similiar age category unless SEGA has explicity said otherwise but I haven't seen it

-and has no striking resemblance to Maria and really doesn't have a similiar personality at all, but they expressed similiar values.

Amy REMINDED Shadow of Maria's PROMISE.

It could just be nice if people didn't immediately assume there's something weird about people shipping ShadAmy. I don't mind that people don't ship it, I just really could slam my head into walls at the lack of critical thinking and comprehension when there's morality policing over people who think ShadAmy would make a cute couple.

Shadow has shown time and again in various iterations that he either has a soft spot for Amy or has no actual aggression towards her, and in games like SA2, StH, and tMoStH, it's really apparent how well they compliment each other or work well together. I love the juxposition of Shadow's pessimism vs Amy's overwhelming positivity (something that's similiarly fun and dynamic with Sonadow!) but they have a LOT in common too, righteous anger and erratic tempers, would move mountains for those they'd love - its a fun and wholesome chemistry!

this is a Loving ShadAmy household and I just wanted this off my chest!!

[fumifooms]

Honestly I wonder if anyone’s ever read Chilchuck’s “I cheated on her” admission as an implicit reference to prioritizing alcohol over his marriage and feeling guilty abt it.

Ohh… "I cheated on her" as a half-truth because something ended up taking priority over their marriage, because emotionally he was elsewhere… "I cheated on her" because after having all the time in the world to think about it now that he’s alone, he realizes that that might have been how she felt, and that’s how it felt like to him too.

Love that. I def think he’s ironically someone who deflects guilt a lot, in a similar way that he compulsively goes "You’re wrong! I don’t care about you guys at all! I’m an asshole!" he flees emotions by making the problem something else that’s fake, a burden easier to bear, he’s so used to being seen for what he’s not after all. I went into it a bit in one of my fics and in a couple meta posts, but when it comes to his wife he was very much like an ostrich with his head in the sand, seeing her fall into a bad mood on the outing before she left him but dismissing it as something "sudden" that’s not worth thinking deeper about. Overdrinking is a problem for future Chil. I think he did a lot of "You want me to drink less and you’re afraid for my health? Get over it lol" and "I should be less strict with the girls and raise my voice less? My father was a strict drunk and look at me, I turned out functional and great! The girls are literally fine and love me" and "Oh? My drinking is affecting our family? No it’s not smh smh get off my back"< Drunk a significant portion of the time he spends at home since he’s off-work and somewhere he can relax. Type of guy to always dismiss any issues that might exists because he prefers ignoring them as if they’ll go away. All his problem solving energy is spent during work and the issue is with his family he already likes things as they are, they’re his comfort zone and change is scary, he doesn’t want the change, even if it’d be better. He doesn’t want to change, his unhealthy habits are guilty pleasures he wishes people didn’t try to make him feel guilty for

BUT POINT IS he struggles with guilt and like. Letting it be a feeling that he gets sometimes, so it’s all bottled up and festers and gets twisted into frustration or such like how his worry usually does. I like this take, wether it’s something he’s already thought a lot about or it’s something he’s repressed that came suddenly pouring out of him like blood out of a wound, now that he’s putting it into words with someone for maybe the first time.

It’s interesting how he didn’t refuse going up to the bicorn, I’m sure part of him wanted to see if it would like him, like the virtue test it is. Would a monster that loves despicable men be magnetized to him? Would it confirm his fears?

[libraryspectre]

Allow me to ramble on the internet about my grandma again

I got much of my diy spirit from my maternal grandmother, who spent most of her time (that wasn't cooking, fishing, gardening, community service, or hunting) doing Art. This could be painting murals on any available surface, hot glueing old jewelry and seashells on things, making elaborate holiday decorations by painting plywood cutouts (cut by my grandfather), glueing ribbons and patches and rhinestones on denim jackets, and, once, making her entire front walkway into a genuinely gorgeous mosaic of broken tile.

The thing is, she didn't have many developed skills. She wasn't a particularly talented painter. But what she lacked in skill she made up for in sheer audacity and an eye for aesthetics, and most of the things she made ended up looking cool and fun/pretty, even if it wasn't my taste (she was VERY maximalist when it came to clothing especially, but I loved most of her painting and a lot of the decor.) She didn't have a lot of money and her materials were cheap - acrylic paint, plywood, garage sale trinkets and goodwill clothing. Tons and tons of hot glue. The corner of the garage where she worked was a wonderland to me, even though it was mostly things like costume jewelry and aquarium beads in old cottage cheese containers.

She was always enlisting me for help - I'd get excited when she told me to wear old clothes, because that meant we were painting. Her attitude was really good for me as a creative kid who struggled with perfectionism. She'd always tell me that if you mess up, you can just paint back over it! "Paint is cheap" was one of her favorite sayings. But the biggest lesson I took away from crafting with her was to customize, to stamp your identity on your surroundings, to take it into your hands to change anything in your environment you weren't happy with. Approach any art project with enough gumption and it will probably be AT LEAST fine - and you can almost always improve upon it in the future. In the meantime, at least it will be yours. And NEVER let yourself be bored when you could be creating.

I've gone down a lot of crafting avenues she never touched - she wasn't one for fiber arts, and I keep falling deeper into that rabbithole. But I've held on to that spirit of customization. I think of her often as I learn new ways to alter my clothes, stumbling blindly into embroidery and rudimentary sewing, bleach dying and fabric paint. I hate the landlord white of my apartment walls and dream of the day I can just paint on them anytime I want. I need to do at least a few seabirds in her honor.