#LOVE IS NOT FINITE YOU BASTARD

[modernvintage]

No bc I’m still kinda deadass mad that they didn’t make Debling fall madly in love with Penelope! I wanted to like him soooooo much. It would have been crazy powerful to see.

It was his jealousy / fear of being a cuckhold that made him break off his plans to propose. But what if he had done it out of love? He could have still seen that pen and Colin were insanely in love and bowed out.

I get that they wanted Penelope to believe in herself / have confidence on her own and not bc someone loved her but WHATEVER.

Penelope Featherington deserved to be courted! I’ll die mad that they did not give her the romance she deserved from both Debling and Colin.

It was never actually a love triangle.

And Debling was a greattttt foil to Colin, but I mean, come on, Sam Philips deserved better too.

"Penelope should have chosen Debling!"

My sister in Christ. . .he literally dumped her???

Like just before Colin Bridgerton was on his knees after outrunning her carriage to profess how he can't stop thinking about her in his love me, choose me, I'm yours speech, Debling did the Regency equivalent of calling her a floozy who would undoubtedly cheat on him when he abandoned her for several years to chase his passions (because she would never be one of said passions since she asked outright if he could ever come to care for her and he went 'hmmmm seems unlikely! good thing you have solitary hobbies to occupy you instead!') when he has been given 0 evidence of such other than realizing she liked to look out the window because she had a crush on the boy across the street. I was ready to challenge that man to a duel for Pen's honor

His feelings for her were middling at best, I mean Christ on a Pogostick, after he asked her mum for permission to propose he isn't even happy when he opens the door and Pen is there? She's looking like a snack- nay, a whole ass MEAL, and he can't even smile? He just nods at her and dips the fuck out? You don't think it would kill Penelope to know that both her sisters have husbands who absolutely adore them and she's out here with an absent dude who likely won't even write to her?

Portia's 'Love is make believe!' speech is so transparently full of shit when you realize that we've got Dankworth who is so obsessed with Prudence that he makes heart eyes at her every waking moment and considers her his little bonbon and Albion who loves Phillipa so much that he was waiting for her to consent to sex (not realizing she didn't know what it was) for two entire years because he would never pressure her and so he was content with finishing in his pants when he kissed her to make sure she was comfortable. And you want Penelope to settle for a life of loneliness? When Colin is so besotted with her that he dreams of her and breaks every societal expectation in the book as a notorious People Pleaser to run after her and cannot even wait for the morning after being intimate with her to introduce her as his wife to his family in the middle of the night? You want her to turn down Mr "When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible" Bridgerton? For LORD PENGUIN?

Be so serious right now

[timehascomeagain]

if see no end in is by frank bidart

[shadesoflsk]

DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS

pairing: arthur morgan x fem reader

summary: arthur didn't believe he was worthy at all. however, you made it your duty to turn harsh words into self love.

warnings: reader is drunk, mentions of death, a bit suggestive at the end.

word count: 1.7k

Arthur was a man of few words. Blunt and straightforward statements were his way to go. He was well-spoken, don't get it wrong. But it seemed that his knowledge in words shone the brightest when a plethora of adjectives slipped from his lips at the sight of him in the mirror.

Staring back at him, was a madman. A garbage at most. Dull, horrible, and not worthy of a penny even though a bounty was placed on him.

However, life worked in mysterious ways when someone appeared in his life. He was no longer a cloud on a sunny day but a star in a clear sky. His eyes, at least for now, had a glint that has been lost ever since…—he doesn't know when or which was the ultimate instance in which happiness left his life.

You were a sight for sore eyes, a bandaid for a wound. A one and only in a world of forever ‘ifs.’ A constant where finite was the sole possibility. And lastly, a sweet fragrance mixed with the smell of gunpowder and death. 

However, he seldom thought about a calm life. He was not deserving of silence since it meant replaying his life through his eyes. Maybe that’s why his own mind was sabotaging his happiness. Life as an outlaw at least gave him a purpose, trying not to get killed left him with no time to dwell on his own low self-esteem. 

“You ugly bastard…” Sour as always but not less honest. In his mind, it was a payback. An attempt to not be in debt with life or whatever entity above him. He didn’t deserve a good life, so a few insults at himself would make things even.

Despite the harsh words he shared with himself, there was a chirping but endearing voice that told him otherwise. Ugly would be replaced by beautiful and old with young. 

But words weren’t enough if his shell was hard to crack. Therefore, the change had to come from him and not from a third person. 

"Arthur….” An intoxicated voice called him and brought him back to reality, to his reality. Both of you have shared some drinks that led to being somewhat drunk. Alcoholic beverages affected you a tad more than him, but that didn’t mean you were unconscious.

You were indeed very conscious.

“You know I love you, right?” And perhaps his own demons subtly pull him to believe your words are just drunk rambles. Lies mixed with a hint of just neediness and stupidity. No wonder, he doesn’t let you drink. Because he now has to deal with the slow poison of not being actually loved.

Damn you.

You share a cabin, you share a room and you definitely share days in which boredom was the pillar of your new life. A boredom not less welcomed but still so foreign to the rough man. But of course, in his messed up mind that didn’t mean you loved him.

“You’re drunk…”

His insecurities drowned out any joy he could feel. Dismissing your words was easier than accepting a reality he had never experienced.

Loving himself.

“I am drunk. You’re completely right sir.” The little show you were giving him was rather amusing. He had dealt with a drunk you many times before, but now it seemed there was a sense of purpose behind your actions. 

“But I’m simply telling the truth.” A waterfall of I love you’s escaped your lips. As if every one of them tried to make its way deeper into his system and plant a seed of self-worth.  

Clumsily, your body fell on top of him. However, you were conscious enough not to knock him towards the bed but rather straddle his lap. A poor attempt at caging him and stopping him from evading your words.

A faint of irritation coursed through Arthur as your voice rose slightly. But not at you but at his own incompetence of believing your words as beautiful as they sounded. Nonetheless, he was weak when feeling the warmth of your body embracing his. A reminder of you being alive and well next to him.

“Quit your rambling and sleep, you drunken fool lady.” His words may have sounded harsh but deep down, a tender tone hid behind his call out. Especially with how his hands protected you from falling. 

A smile formed on your face as you felt Arthur’s hands on your lower back. A few months ago, you had told him you felt safe with him, his reply was no more than a scoff but that moment wouldn’t leave his mind. And although he could only see the hands of a killer, he ought to protect you no matter what.

That was the least he could do.

“You may say that but…” Your hand caressed his stubbled cheek. “Drunk words are…” A hiccup escaped your lips. “Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

And they damn were. Even when alcohol wasn’t running through your veins as it does now. I love you’s were more common than greetings at this point.

“You ain’t makin’ any sense, woman.” He whispered, brushing back some hair that was sticking to your forehead.

“You don’t make any sense either, Arthur Morgan.” You replied, this time a bit more serious than all of your previous ‘yapping’.

He groans, knowing you were right. There were days in which his existence didn’t make any sense, at least for him. 

You knew that this simple talk wouldn’t do anything to the so-wounded Arthur. His heart has built an armor so strong that not even truthful words could destroy it. You shifted in his lap and slowly moved closer to him.

“Let’s do something else.” A glint appeared in your eyes as you came up with an idea to sort out the root of the problem.

However, Arthur completely misunderstood your intentions.

“I ain’t doin’ nothing with you. Look at the state you’re in.” He stated firmly. 

“You fool of a man. It ain’t nothing to do with that sort of thing.” You softly punched him in his chest, not really aiming to hurt him but rather reprimand him. 

“Just… hear me out, okay?” Your eyes locked with his blue-ish ones. Amidst the drunken state you were in, your intentions were as clear as if you were sober. “You’re gonna repeat after me, got it?”

“I don’t like this.” Arthur muttered, his nose scrunching up a bit.

You paid no mind, already getting your plan to work. “Listen closely.” 

A hint of curiosity flashed through his eyes as he couldn’t really make out what you wanted him to do. 

“I love you.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at your words. Words he had heard (and said) so much. But there was not a day he did not yearn to hear it from your lips. 

He couldn’t help but sigh, a facade to hide how much he was starting to let himself drown in the feeling.

“I love you.” He finally obliged, his eyes squinting when he saw you grinning.

“Oh honey… I know.” You cooed but your chuckles were obvious to a confused Arthur. You were light-heartedly teasing him.  “But you were supposed to change the ‘I’ for ‘You’ and the ‘you’ for ‘me,’ silly”

“That’s not what the word ‘repeat’ means.” His words are accompanied by his own self of teasing. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Shut up Arthur….” 

“A little demanding for someone who can’t even sit straight on my lap.” And finally, a feeble smile adorned his face. 

“Go on.” You frowned, already waiting to continue with the little game or experiment you were both taking part in.

“You love me?” He repeated questioningly, expecting some kind of correction on your part.

“Very much.” You emphasized, letting your words linger in the air for a bit before coming up with another phrase, another affirmation he had to repeat. “Now… ‘I’m worthy’.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, he hadn’t even said the word yet and it already felt so foreign to him. Worthy of what?

“Say what?” He feigned ignorance, knowing damn well what your little plan was. A playful smile was on his face.

“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” You persisted, not allowing him to escape from the inevitable. “Repeat it.”

You gently held his face, your noses brushing in an endearing display of affection. And for a few seconds, both of you just stayed there, embracing the warmth of shared love and unspoken intimacy. 

Maybe he was indeed worthy. Worthy of having someone next to him every time he wakes up. Worthy of having a warm meal every day, and having someone he could so easily love.

Both of you are grinning like idiots, you were drunk on alcohol and he was in the love you were—or rather always provided. 

Reluctantly, slowly, and carefully. He thought about those two words and let them set in his brain before saying them. 

“I’m worthy.” He finally repeated… or confessed? His mind was still adamant to believe it. But acceptance is the first step for a change and you have taught him about the art of betterment.

A lump formed in his throat as he looked into your loving eyes. A feeling of purpose suddenly rushed back to him. After all these years, this was the first time he actually felt worthy. 

“So worthy…” A loving kiss was pressed against his lips. Your words were a silent prayer and the dim room was your sacred place. If God existed he surely did an amazing job forgiving him. 

Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed as your lips locked with his. He was no stranger to your affection but damn he would never say no to them. A strange sense of hope washed over him, maybe this was the beginning of a new era.

He had everything, it was time to enjoy it.

“So worthy…” He repeated even though he wasn’t mean to. Those were your words, but now he managed to sing them as if they were a song he was learning. 

And the phrase was repeated over and over that night. When your eyes got tired of being opened and when the alcohol finally took its toll on you. It was repeated when you finally fell asleep and he admired the face of his life partner. And it was repeated over the course of days, when he found his home inside of you, letting his body show how much he adored you.

Arthur was a man of few words. But now, his mental dictionary was completed and the insults were soon replaced with only words of affection.

Worthy of life and love.

[rynnthefangirl]

I truly, truly do not get Aegon III and Viserys II fans that hate on the Velaryon boys and/or the Dragons Twins.

I expect to see bastardphobia and hateful anti-Jace/Luke/Joff takes from TG, because the story directly pits TG characters against Rhaenyra and her boys. I disagree with it, but I can understand where it originates from. But Aegon III and Viserys II are not in any way posed as their siblings’ enemies or rivals in F&B. Even if you argued that there would be conflict should Jace ascend the throne, it still isn’t present in the actual story. Quite the contrary, Aegon III was said to worship his three older half brothers, and clearly cares for and trusts his sisters as we see in his regency.

So what’s the deal? I’m genuinely asking here. If you love Aegon and Viserys, then why hate the family members that they loved and mourned? Why pit them unnecessarily against their own siblings? Why despise a 15 year boy who sacrificed his life trying to save his baby brother? What the hell did these boys or the twins ever do to wrong their younger half brothers? Where does any of this animosity come from???

I can only imagine it stems from feeling like the Velaryon boys and Dragon Twins somehow take something away from Aegon and Viserys. But that’s… profoundly stupid to say the least. What do they take away? Rhaenyra and Daemons love? Love isn’t a finite resource, Rhaenyra has plenty to go around, and if Daemon favors anyone it’s going to be his true born sons. Their status as heir? Aegon and Viserys end up on the throne anyway, how bizarre to beef with a dead 15 year old child for a scenario that never even came to be. It’s not as though Aegon and Viserys even wanted the throne in the first place— they just wanted their family, including their siblings, to be happy and whole.

Like I’m sorry, but I have a hard time believing that hatred for the Velaryon boys could originate from love for Aegon and Viserys. It seems to me like these types of people are anti-Velaryon boys first, and Aegon and Viserys “fans” second. Perhaps toxic Daemyra stans who hate the fact that they had children with other people, or people who fell into the trend of cosplaying anti-bastard bigots and so prefer the “true born” alternative sons. It brings a distinctly Team Green(🤢) energy to the Aegon and Viserys tag that I hate, which imo fundamentally contradicts the spirit of their characters.

[see-arcane]

Cards with the Count

Thinking about how Jonathan is trying to pass the time during Vampire Hell Staycation with all the books in the library (a guaranteed Dracula Zone), no stationery (bastard), and a finite amount of secret pen ink and secret diary pages left at his disposal (shit). Reading and writing and art are all out. What’s left?

I like to think, in this order:

1)    He remembers that he has a pack of playing cards in the general luggage Dracula didn’t snatch. A gift Lucy had bestowed on him and Mina, a pack apiece, as she insisted that it was the best way to pass an hour in dreary company that wasn’t to do with gossip or politics.

2)    He doesn’t normally play, if only because he doesn’t have the coin to meet any real gambling stranger at a table. Just a ‘for fun’ thing.

3)    Fuck it. Solitaire. Card towers. It’s something to keep his mind off the…everything.

4)    He gets exactly one (1) day/evening of peace with this. Then:

5)    “Whatever are you up to, my friend?” 

(He didn’t even use the door to give Jonathan time to hide the pack. Misted in. No shadow to give him away. Fantastic.) Jonathan staples his smile back in place and rattles off something apologetic, so sorry, was he keeping the Count waiting? Let him just put this away, he wouldn’t be interested—

6)    Smash cut to the library. The cards are now unofficially confiscated/a staple of the Dracula Zone, alongside the fancy crystal chessboard the Count loves to crush him with on a semi-regular basis. Jonathan is walking him through the rules of sundry card games. Unsurprisingly, he latches onto the concept of American poker readily. The game is a soup of similar European predecessors that light up his eyes with recognition—primero, poque, brelan—sewn together with England’s game of brag into a medley of the initial rules, both written and unwritten.

7)    “A game of skill, then?”

“Skill, acting, and luck.”

Dracula grins as he produces a ransom of gold coins to use as chips. Jonathan deals. 

(What are the extra rules here? Does he throw every hand? Does he play in earnest and inevitably lose anyway? Does it even matter? It isn’t chess, after all. Not a proper strategy game. Cards happen. Guesswork happens. A winner and loser every turn. What does it matter?)

8)    Jonathan realizes two dozen hands later that what matters is, apparently, his face. One that, likewise apparently, cannot be read by the Count in this game. Out of those two dozen hands, Jonathan has won eighteen. Of those eighteen, his hand was the clear dud for nine. Through it all, Dracula’s eyes keep jumping from his own hand to Jonathan’s tired gaze. When Jonathan wins the twenty-fifth hand and the mountain of gold on his side of the table risks toppling off the edge, Dracula bites out a word Jonathan is sure is too caustic to have a spot in the lost polyglot dictionary.

9)    “You have a gift for schooling your face, my friend.” Every word is an icicle; each as sharp as the canines jutting out of the rictus grin.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says. 

And it’s true. Now he’s schooling his face—first lesson of anyone destined for the realm of serving others—but in the game, he’s barely thinking of anything else beyond the ticking of the clock. To punctuate this, he slides the heap of gold back to Dracula’s side of the table. 

“This is only a game for the fun of it. In a game with stakes, there would be something worth playing and worrying for. When you get to England,” his face is very, very schooled as he says this, “you’ll find a much more varied competition at gambling tables. The players who really train their expressions can do so with fortunes at stake, while novices reveal every victory or loss plainly on their face.”

10) Dracula considers this. And smiles.

11) “Ah, then there must be stakes before we can play the game properly. Still, you have won the bulk of these rounds, my friend—” his hand seems like it wants to be strangling something when it drums atop the gold heap, “—and done me the charity of not taking your rightful winnings.” He throws down his cards. Ace and deuce of spades. “I shall have to speak with the kitchen about producing a stand-in prize.” 

He leaves. Jonathan doesn’t blink when he hears the door lock behind him. A card pyramid is erected.

12) Paprika hendl for supper. As excellent as he remembers. Huzzah.

13) The next time he’s herded into the library, he sees what looks suspiciously like his travel paraphernalia flimsily hidden behind a bit of drapery. Dracula is shuffling the deck.

14) “A true prize on the table this time, my friend. I know you are one to appreciate the splendor of our beautiful country, just as I know it is, for your own safety, quite impossible to go exploring alone in the wild. Too many wolves about. But if you win the majority tonight, I shall see to it that my driver takes a leave from his own many errands to escort you beyond the castle for a time, if you so wish.”

“…And if I lose the majority?” He can’t help it: “I’m sure there’s little from me you’d be interested in.”

Dracula grins.

“We shall think of something, I’m certain. Here. Deal.”

15) As expected, Jonathan’s face isn’t effortlessly unreadable in its misery anymore. He has something to play for, even if his trust in Dracula’s dangling carrot on the stick is nigh nonexistent. He loses more. He struggles more. He worries more…

16) …But the wins and losses remain surprisingly even. On into the dawn they play, matching victory for victory. Even the Count seems puzzled. Jonathan is just tired. He was never going to win. The ‘driver’ will fall to some mysterious ailment, his possessions will disappear the moment he’s sent out of the room ahead of the Count. To Hell with it.

17) “I forfeit. We remain tied, so neither has to lose.” A sour smile curls. “Besides, I have kept you up too late again.”

“One more.”

“We can say you won—,”

Dracula gives him a Look.

Jonathan sits again. Plays again.

Wins again.

Dracula hisses several words the polyglot dictionary would be scandalized to translate. Jonathan feels the first genuine smile he’s wanted to make in a month and a half try to creep up on his lips, and stifles it.

18) Dracula turns over his cards and thumbs though the deck as if looking for a conspirator. He even scowls at Jonathan’s forearms, both bare through the whole game as he’d rolled up his sleeves. Still grumbling, his thumbnail finally hooks a card that makes a cloud pass over his face.

19) “What. Is this?”

Jonathan looks.

“Oh, that’s just a Joker.”

“Joker?”

“Yes, I thought I’d taken him out. He’s not a usable card in this game, but he’s sometimes used as a trump or wild card in others. That is, he’s there to turn the tide for whoever gets to play him.”

Jonathan reaches for the card to tuck it back in the box. Dracula pulls it out of reach, walks to the fireplace, and flicks it into the flames.

“Say what you will, but I recognize a symbol of sabotage when I see it. It should not be in the deck at all!” Still watching the little harlequin turn to cinders, he flaps his other hand at Jonathan. “Go rest, my friend. Take that infernal game with you. It is not a respectable pastime for men of our like.”

20) Jonathan gathers up the deck, gives his travel kit a last mournful look, and leaves for his bedroom, knowing not to ask after the walk in the forest as he goes. In his bed, he empties the deck into his hand again and thinks on four things.

Skill.

Acting.

Luck.

And…

21) He turns the deck’s neglected second Joker over in his fingers, the impish face seeming to hold a secret in its grin.

22) When he wakes next, he isn’t surprised to find the deck has been stolen. It doesn’t trouble him. Somehow, it even produces a tired grin on his face. It nearly matches the painted thing hidden, wild and powerful, in the pages of his journal.

[luckhound]

gintoki + relationship headcanons.

↻ pairing ✦ gintoki/gender neutral reader

↻ request ✦ I read your rules and stuff, and I hope I read it right gsusvjddn can I request some relationship headcanons for Gintoki? I can't watch the final movie for Gintama yet and I am devastateD —anonymous

↻ warnings ✦ mild suggestive content, blink and you'll miss it; terrible attempt at humour

author's note: this is several years late but i Just started a rewatch and was reminded of my love for this story and its characters. so uh, better late than never?

First of all, you deserve a medal for perseverance. You managed to do the impossible by entering into a relationship with this man, who dodges romantic entanglements without even trying to despite the many possible love interests in the source material

Now you have to deal with a cheapskate who doesn't have a single romantic bone in his body. Congrats!

Don't expect to be taken out on a date any time soon; his idea of a good time is to recline on the couch and read Jump. Unfortunately, that doesn't change even when he has a partner who he could be spending his free time with

When the two of you do go out, maybe sit down somewhere for a bite to eat, Gintoki expects you to pay. What? He should foot the bill? With what money? Any cash that so much as brushes his hands is snatched up by the old hag (Otose), or gobbled up by the brat with the bottomless stomach (Kagura), or swallowed up by the pachinko machines that the idiot hits up (Gintoki)

Rarely do you have privacy. At any given time, a revolving door of characters will intrude upon your finite alone time with Gintoki; if it isn't the rare client asking for help, it's one of his friends annoyances (or so he calls them) stumbling into you two, or some two-bit villain hatching the latest evil plan that's plaguing Edo this week

Then there's Shinpachi and Kagura, who stick to the man like gum on a shoe. Sure, you do adore them, but babysitting two kids while trying to spend quality time with Gintoki can get old—you're dating a penniless samurai, not a struggling single dad!

Don't bother expecting him to get jealous or possessive; if someone were to flirt with you in front of him, it'd go right over his head

You would have to spell it out for him after the fact, and even then he'd stare at you with those dead fish eyes, wondering what you wanted him to do about it

Wait a second, you must be thinking. All of these bullet points so far have only listed the cons of dating this bastard! Where's the good stuff? What are the pros?

There aren't any, sorry to say. You're better off dumping him like yesterday's garbage and moving on to someone worth your time

Which is probably what Gintoki would say, if forced at gunpoint to answer truthfully; he has no clue why you tied your fate to him of all people

You, on the other hand, might reply with:

He's constantly finding excuses to touch you. His head in your lap while he reads Jump on the couch, his ankle brushing yours under the table when dining out, his arm tossed around your shoulders as you walk

As much as he loudly complains and huffs and rolls his eyes, he doesn't stop you when you steal food from his plate. He'll even let you swipe some of his parfait, despite threatening to make you pay for another. It'd be easy for him to slap your hand away, but he never does

Romantic he may not be, but you know just how much he wants you by the way he can't keep his hands off you when the mood hits; his every touch elicits shivers, his mouth never strays far from yours for long, his gaze dark and intent on you

There is no one more doggedly loyal than Gintoki. No one who cares more about your wellbeing and happiness. No one else who would put you first when it matters, protect you from anything or anyone that may try to harm you

For those reasons and more, you'll deal with the many downsides that come with dating Sakata Gintoki. Not always happily, mind you, but you'll do it anyway

("Why do they even put up with him?" Shinpachi wonders aloud, watching the two of you bicker for the fifth time that day. "Stockholm syndrome," is Kagura's immediate answer.)

[zeep-xanflorp]

ok i'm just gonna ramble ab unmortricken bc i have exactly ZERO COHERENT THOUGHTS AB IT

evil morty backstory - i rlly like that they just made him some random morty who rose above everything after getting sick of rick's abuse. it makes what he did feel even more earned and weighty. i think his motivation is a bit extreme still but i can't rlly blame him.

it's cool seeing infinity beyond the central finite curve. the jetsons inspired bit was v amusing bc i forgot about them lmao. but otherwise it seems absolutely wild west beyond the curve and i LIVE for that.

i also didnt imagine that we'd be seeing him again. i thought the way he left the show was perfect and if they brought him back it would just feel cheap but it DOESNT in this episode i love his appearance.

i rlly like seeing our morty be supportive of rick. he's literally trying everything to cheer him up and it's very important to me.

the prime decoys confuse me. like do they all share a consciousness? is prime just very very good at fucking with ppl that he's made all the decoys communicate w each other?

evil morty outsmarting rick is a great recurring theme in the episode. "filter for probability stasis" YEAH U TELL HIM LITTLE DUDE. we've never seen a morty like that EXCEPT for him and i think it's wonderful.

the exchange between rick and evil morty. "you're such a narcissist" / "literal glass house" / "you think you're better than me?" / "jesus i HOPE SO" SHITTING

i didnt initially like the decoy trap thing being full of loads of other ricks. it made me feel like our rick wasn't very important to this dude and rick just made an enemy of a guy who didn't know he existed. BUT i don't stand by that anymore. the rest of the episode made me change my mind very quickly with.

the omega device. holy fuck this is the worst reveal to come out of this episode. she wasn't just killed, she was ERASED by prime in every reality. like she is GONE gone. that's why we've never seen her, save in flashbacks and memories. she's gone.

and i'm pretty sure it's our rick's fault that he did that. we see his beth and his diane be killed by a bomb, not wiped from reality like slo mobius is later in the episode. so his family was killed BEFORE all the shit with the omega device. ik correlation ≠ causation, but it rlly explains why our rick in particular is so hungry for revenge. if he was the one that made prime kill diane everywhere then he had to be the one to make prime pay for it.

i like how the multiple monitors seems to be prime's signature move. it happens here and in the s6 premiere.

and oh fuck the parallels. "when i invent something it works, it's called being talented" in story train vs "when i make a weapon in works."

oh man the diane head weapon thing. it's interesting that it was programmed to mock rick sexually, but even on our rick who knows it's a trap, it still affects him seeing her face again. "god i missed that face." and then the blank stare when she asks for a kiss. pretty sweet and fucked up.

rick and evil morty having to work together to get their portals working. the contrast between our morty freaking out and evil morty blank staring.

the bit with the portal closing too soon. i know it happened earlier this season and i think it's so funny lmao.

I CANNOT STRESS TO YOU ENOUGH THAT I WAS SO MADE WHEN I WORKED OUT THAT INSTEAD OF YELLING WHILE GOING THROUGH THE CURVE THING IN THE MIDFLE OF THE EP HE WAS SCREAMING "PRIME" THOSE DIABOLICAL LITTLE BASTARDS AT ADULT SWIM.

prime calling rick the Wife Guy. hilarious. raises questions. makes me gnaw on my cell bars.

AND THEN the second incredible reveal of the episode: "Honestly, Wife Guy, I do miss when it was just us. The only two Ricks who actually invented portal travel." WHAT bestie prime bby girl u need to say that again. you guys were the ONLY ones who invented interdimensional travel, every rick's claim to fame. but no they just got the technology from prime who started a boys club of ricks who wanted to leave their lives behind that our rick refused.

but the reference to a time when they were closer, when it was only them - HELLO?? maybe i'm grasping at straws bc i want them to bang but holy shit.

the confirmation of the fan theory that rick based his AI voice on his wife. 10/10.

and then the fight scene. oh gods the fight scene. rick just screaming that he'll kill prime. prime regenerating constantly, looking unscathed as our rick becomes more and more dishevelled. it's too perfect i CANT. but otherwise they both seem pretty evenly matched w all the implants and stuff so without the regeneration i think rick would've had him. oh well.

rick like literally died during the fight.

the cool grandson/shitty grandpa exchange gives me breath. i LOVE how it's a morty that outsmarts prime. it's what he deserves.

prime still trying to be a smartass to evil morty, growing more and more panicked as it goes on bc he doesn't know what to do with the situation and control for once is not in his hands.

"what are u gonna 'aw geez' me to death?"

evil morty not even explaining his plan, just silently dragging in our rick and reviving him. saying "knock yourself out" with the intended double meaning. prime's almost scared expression as rick gets dragged in.

and then our rick has a choice. he can stop evil morty from keeping the weapon plans or he can kill prime. but that's a choice he made already. it's not even a decision. so his other enemy gets away.

the brutal brutal scene at the end when rick is just hitting prime. no tech, no implants, no gadgets. just fists. and rick beats him literally to a pulp as prime screams and laughs at him and taunts him further. it's meant to be sickening. it's meant to be personal. and it accomplishes that perfectly.

they don't even show prime's body in great detail. it's RIGHT in the background but we heard the sounds of the punches, we saw his nose break and his bloody teeth and haemorrhaging eyes and his brains coming out the side of it head and all we can make out is his fucked up swollen and broken face in the background as he sits still attached to the chair, a river of his blood pouring from the room.

but its not triumphant. they made rick's revenge hollow and bittersweet. its over but it destroyed rick in the process. who is he now that he isn't hunting prime? fucking no one.

then "look on down from the bridge" starts playing. we heard this in season 1 in rick potion #9 after morty had to bury a version of himself. he was struggling with the purpose of his life after switching universes. but he deals with it and overcomes it.

i think that scene is rick, for the first time in the entire show, struggling with his nihilistic philosophy. bc yes, he's shown to be an existentialist in the show (the difference being existentialists are "nothing matters but this matters to me" instead of "nothing matters so i don't have to do anything"). he had a drive. he had ppl he cared about. but now he's reached his goal he just feels empty and hollow. everything's meaningless and he's NOT okay with that. he never has been, but he has to grapple with that finally now he doesn't have a distraction. i don't think he can just bounce back and move past what happened.

ppl are saying this episode felt overstuffed and maybe it was but i'm very pleased with it and want to know where it's going.

i feel we still don't know the full story with prime. i'm predicting a flash back episode in the future explaining what the nature of their relationship was like before the bomb incident.

we also know that evil morty has this weapon that could destroy all ricks. so that is just a ticking bomb.

anyway i can't wait for angsty rick.

i actually watched unforgiven for this episode bc i'm a big fan of westerns anyway. the only real parallels i can see is they both have a group of three (two are already partners and the other one is the call to adventure) and an unsatisfying ending. bc that's the nature of westerns. they should NEVER end happily, and if u think so then ur wrong (/nsrs enjoy media how u want).

some things i haven't mentioned but enjoyed nonetheless

the schematics for the omega device is titled <SCHEMATICS BOOGER-AIDS-V2>

the arm/leg swap best in the fight

the comparison between the song at the end playing here and in season one shows with just visuals how the dynamic of beth and jerry's (and beth's) marriage has evolved since then.

everyone freaking out when indiana jones rick shoots and it ricochets off the wall and evil morty just stands expressionless until it hits his forcefield.

morty going to hug rick covered in blood, realising, hesitating, and then doing it later anyway to try and make rick feel better.

evil morty making a point to say that he doesn't want vengeful summers coming after him for omega devicing rick. not vengeful mortys, vengeful SUMMERS.

just evil morty in this whole episode was an absolute delight i need to see him more.

THE TEAR MARKS AFTER RICK EMERGES FROM BEATING PRIME TO DEATH

slo mobius' wife almost going down the same path our rick did only to find someone she loves and focus on that, saving her. makes me wonder if they're gonna try putting rick in a relationship.

this ended up being way longer than it should have. anyway. very pleased. this season is hitting all the marks for me overall.

also don't be too hard on me i didnt edit this 😭

[altfire]

WELCOME TO AERMAINH

Book One: RAPTORA

tag: #aermainh status: planning/in progress genre: high fantasy/romance

Summary

One hundred years ago, the people of Aermainh waged war against their own gods and sent them back to the realm from which they came in an event known as the Godsend. Since then, magic has been a finite resource - the blood of the gods' only casualty, metered out slowly, and this precious ichor is running out.

The spoiled youngest son of a governor, Velius Mattia could not care less about the ichor running through his own veins when he drops out of Laryce Academy for Mages. Frustrated with his lack of innate talent and the grueling coursework, he runs away to the capital city of Elaboros to celebrate the first centennial of the Godsend and avoid the wrath of his demanding family.

Ortag Garrok has never left the arid northern desert of Aermainh or, indeed, his own village before he's banished. Accused of a crime he didn't commit and far out of his depth, he travels deep into human territory looking for somewhere new to belong.

On the beach of the Elaborate Sound, these unlikely companions are enlisted to aid a forgotten minor god, Raptora, who has been trapped on Aermainh for a hundred years with no way home. They resolve to help the Lord of Oaths open the gate to the Aviarium in exchange for all that they dream - but Vel and Garrok will soon discover that there's good reason Raptora's otherworldly kin were banished.

(Character list + some notes/thoughts/additional info below cut!)

From left to right: Lioren Florianus, Hermiscia "Miscia" Mattia, Velius "Vel" Mattia, Ortag Garrok, Adaric "Daric" Mattia III, Adaric Mattia II, Caysin Rea. Right click + open in new tab to take a closer look - the image is huge and took me forever lmao. Also the bird represents Raptora :3c

I'm not really a writeblr bc I barely write and also barely -blr, but I follow a couple and I'm super inspired by their passion and posting so I'm. Trying it out. Idk I'm nervous but whatever.

I've been working and thinking about Aermainh forever - I first thought of the name and gods in 2018, and this iteration has been in progress (though on a backburner) since late 2022. I wanted to create my own fantasy world for a couple reasons:

Firstly, I've been writing Elder Scrolls fic with OC focus since 2016 and wanted my own world to play with since I was basically writing original fiction without having to do any worldbuilding, but using someone else's world has its own drawbacks

And second, I want to create the kind of book I want to read, in the most self-indulgent sense possible. M/M romance, maybe explicit smut (still deciding lol), but all alongside the sweeping, immersive world and wonder of my favorite paperback fantasy novels. I'm especially inspired by Scott Lynch's Gentlemen Bastard Sequence and the Nightrunner series by Lynn Flewelling.

Also, I just think big lizard people are neat. Maybe that's my TES-brain disease. I love Argonians so much.

ANYWAY this post is super long and if anyone actually read this far, thank you!!!! If you have any questions about any of this - the story itself, the characters, the world (I have a map!) - feel free to send me asks!!!!

[blueeyedgrlwrites]

Alright kids. I spent 24 straight hours watching RWRB on loop (not kidding). And the only reason it wasn't more was because my dog decided to lay on the remote and turn the TV off late last night. She got glared at rather harshly for all of 3 seconds before my rational brain kicked in and told me, "Yes, Meg, you do actually need to sleep. You are closer to 40 than 20."

So with that, as I once again rewatch the RWRB movie, let's have some thoughts on book to movie adaptations from a fandom grandma, shall we?

First, Casey's book is beloved by so many and for all the right reasons. They gave us an iconically beautiful and unapologetic queer love story with characters that you love, get frustrated with, laugh both at and with, cheer for, and roll your eyes at as they stumble around figuring out this whole queer-in-the-public-eye thing and I don't care who you are, I'd imagine that's going to be tough for any public figure at any age.

Casey also gives us fleshed out and sometimes interwoven storylines with June, Nora, Pez, Luna, Bea, et al. Because writing allows for that to develop. There's no time or page limit on a book. The only limit to the book is the writer's imagination. It's an artistic medium that allows for more intricacies and interactions between the various characters (looking at Alex and Ellen and the PowerPoint, and Alex and Bea and "I love him on purpose").

I loved the book first, and I will continue to love the book above all else.

But book to movie adaptations are never going to be the same. They simply can't be the same. They have a finite amount of time to fill. They can't develop intricate storylines, which is why we see no June, no Luna, little of Percy, Alex's parents being married instead of divorced, nothing on Bea's addiction, and why we have little bastards like Miguel to still fill the main event that brings both Alex and Henry out into the public as their true, authentic selves.

The best book to movie adaptations are those that stay true to the plot. It's going to be faster paced because there's 2-2.5 hours in which to tell the story and all the main events have to be hit in that time. It's why we see the texting montage, and why the emails are done via voice over.

They honor the characters by not only keeping them as they are in the books, but in doing right by them as well. That includes casting the right people, and Taylor and Nick were far and away the best Alex and Henry.

Any creator who has ever created anything based on a book, movie, TV series, video game, etc. knows that when you take something that is already out there, you put your vision to the story. And that's what Matthew did with the movie. He made it his love letter to Henry and Alex, and Henry and Alex only. And while he surely had input from Casey, ultimately it was his vision that had to be realized in the movie.

Movie adaptations can also give you some wonderful added moments. And here we get to see Henry's struggle as well as Alex's. Because movies can be told from different points of view, even if the source material isn't. Ellen's powerpoint wasn't included, but it was referenced and that is just as important.

So many moments, from Alex and Henry's first kiss, to the conversation with Alex's dad, to Henry's soliloquy to Alex in the middle of the night at KP are still pulled word-for-word straight from the book.

We may not have "I love him on purpose." But we do have, "I'll break the sound barrier for you."

We don't get "Your Song" but we do get "Can't Help Falling in Love" and both are equally appropriate for what Alex and Henry have.

We get to keep, "history huh? Bet we could make some."

And we get to see Henry fight for himself and question why the established norms of a 21st century monarchy need to continue the way they've always been, rather than have his mum swoop in and save the day. And that is fucking brilliant character growth my friends.

No movie is ever going to be a scene by scene rehash of a book, no matter how beloved it is, and no matter how enthusiastically all of us shout that we would absolutely sit for a 10 hour movie of every little thing TYVM. But as long as it is there to be an ode to the original, to compliment it, then that's all you can ask for. And it's all you should ask for.

[sadqueerpoetry]

Ticking

A Poem For My Love

Tick Tock

Tick Tock

I hear it daily

This ticking clock

Tick Tock

Make it stop

If it won’t

I’ll blow my top

Under pressure

Time is lost

Lost every second

I put it off

If time is finite

Then I’ll be late

I stand waiting

For a future date

I think I know

But what about you

What if you don’t

Feel this way too

I hear it ticking

The sands of time

No matter how much I plead

They haven’t been kind

Just a few more weeks

That’s all I ask

Though that bastard

Isn’t up to the task

I want to tell you

Really I do

But fear grips me

It splits me in two

But time’s running out

I need to move quickly

All this pressure

Is leaving me sickly

Three simple words

I hope and I pray

Three simple words

That’s all I need to say

Tick Tock

I hear the clock

It takes up my brain

Leaving no room for thought

Three words

That’s all I need to do

All I need to say

Is “I love you”

[pennzance]

"Okay, here's the thing I don't get..."

"This oughta be good. Shoot."

"Why do you all make everything so hard on yourselves? I mean, don't get me wrong I love me some prolonged, agonizing torture, but... I mean, you all spend your finite mortal lives jumping through red tape and trying to make ends meet in a system that favors only a scant few of you that was established by the ancestors of those scant few. I run a fairly torturous division of Hell, and even I think that's weirdly fucked up."

"Yes, yes, another dry notation of how we humans are worse to each other than Hell could ever be."

"But you AREN'T! Not on the whole! I've seen kindness, charity, truly saintly acts and while it makes MY skin crawl all damn day, that's that sort of thing you should all be celebrating and elevating! Why are you LETTING the bastards run the show?"

"... are you trying to get me to incite a bloody revolution?"

"I mean, I do like a good bout of head chopping. The French got it RIGHT with the guillotine, let me tell you. SO many bits you can chop off a human body with one of those."

[sadkidwarexpert]

𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭

tw: grief, loss.

a/n: if you wish to be tagged in my works let me know.

tags: @daisycheols

I'm sorry that we don't last.

I've tried to tell you, traced it in the dust over your dresser, scribbled it in maroon cursive with the lipstick that's been in my mother's pocket for countless summers until it resided in mine for winters following my 18th birthday. I whispered it into your hair every time you cried into my shoulder, and hoped it lingered around like a perfume from the deeper woods, where I build a lair to never be found. I made the moon promise to keep you company, the stars to lend their faint light that would resemble yours once mine is snuffed out, the sun to cast it's warmth because the frost of grief wears down even hearts of fire.

We're finite, and what a bastard I am to dare engrave myself into the mural of your fate, to walk alongside that path in a parallel of my own. We're made of loss and longing, of a marrow that's stretching across time to hold our beings in one piece, like a crumbling building haunted by lives and ghosts of memories, held together only by a thin thread of humanity, the sliver of experience that ties us all into the same bunch.

The moment we're interwoven, when the red thread of my anger is knotted around the blue one of your serenity, our fabric bleeds the violet of bruises beaten into us by time, and we're stuck in the same frame, while snapshots shutter by like a million needles fired into skin once, because our timeline is tattooed with ashes of love that burnt and held us by the guts. Love that forced us to be, to crawl out of the void and let our fingers touch relief. Love that provided a vessel for the endless flow of tears. Love that sacrificed the bang of existence for the silence of isolation.

Love that rose like a phoenix every dawn, only to die by dusk and remind us that no matter how hard we held on, we could never hold enough, that even if I hold you close enough for my skin to morph into yours, you'll still be leagues far away.

•

©2023 sadkidwarexpert, Eboni.

[venting-town]

Universe is a retard just like quiet and loud and spirits and demons and angels and positive and neutral and balance and karma and negative and consequence and affect and effect and

Ahem

O

N

E

And fuck you retarded ass bastards

You stupid fucking faggots

Fucking retard angels and demons and aliens and animals and humans ogres and God and Lucifer and karma and spiritual and non spiritual and beings and non beings and lines and souls and turns and taking and giving and groups and and relative and objective and joy and sadness and regret and neutral and neutralizer and equality and equal and energy and object and subject and reject and accept and deny and plead and phase and new and old and redo and undo and love and hatred and chance and anger and peace and war and create and destroy and destruction and creation and up and down and mind and body and soul and cores and and hard and easy and medium and top and bottom and art and guys and gals and pals and black and white and mutt and mixed and OnE retarded ass and all and AlL retarded ass and feel and think and emote and dreamscape and lifetime and death and life retarded added and purgatory retarded ass and Valhalla retarded ass and limbo retarded ass and Hell retarded ass and Heaven retarded ass and live retarded ass and die retarded ass and action retarded ass and Your retarded ass and Legion retarded ass and use retards ass and tool retarded ass and flame retarded ass and seed retarded ass and trumpet retarded ass and music retarded ass and living retarded ass and dying retarded ass and exorcism retarded ass and possession retarded ass and madness retarded ass and mad retarded ass and moral retarded ass and inflict retarded ass and inner child retarded ass and outer adult retarded ass and nuance retarded ass and spectrum retarded ass and two retarded ass and zero retarded ass and finite retarded ass and pErFeCt retarded ass and fLaW retarded ass and forgiveness retarded ass and grudge retarded ass and un retarded ass and pro retarded ass and vacuum retarded ass and retarded ass gang mafia bitches retarded ass and FBI retarded stupid asses and entities retarded ass and entity retarded ass and influence retarded ass and story retarded ass and AI retarded ass and future retarded ass and past retarded ass and present retarded ass and crystal retarded ass and color retarded ass and shade retarded ass and retarded ass and glitch retarded ass and orb retarded ass and square retarded ass and triangle retarded ass and memory retarded ass and electronic retarded ass and electricity retarded ass and power retarded ass and blunt retarded ass and blur retarded ass and clear retarded ass and sick retarded ass and vulnerable retarded ass and fight retarded ass and abuser retarded ass and victim retarded ass and two halves retarded ass and sane coin retarded ass and cloth retarded ass and scapegoat retarded ass and golden retarded ass and support retarded ass and needy retarded ass and needed retarded ass and need retarded ass and wanty retarded ass and wanted retarded ass and want retarded ass and sacrifice retarded ass and leave retarded ass and stay retarded ass and escape retarded ass and stable retarded ass and vessel retarded ass and function retarded ass and Origin

Retarded stupid ass

And and retarded ass and retarded ass retarded ass and retarded ass and etc retarded ass and

Fuck you fucking retards

Kill yourselves

Stupid fucking faggot ass retards fuck you retarded bitches

[sea-bean-news-archive]

[BREAKING NEWS!]

• Sea-Bean News would like to congratulate Pontifex Maximus and the Bishop of Pokemon Color Splash, [REDACTED] Dragonis Prime [REDACTED] I a very special birthday! Happy birthday, you immortal bastard! We love you till our finite lives come to a close!

@dragonisprime

[mrsblackruby]

Billy Hargrove Meta

People are allowed to like Billy Hargrove. If you interpret Billy as racist that’s fine. People can have different interruptions that doesn’t mean anyone’s actually excusing racism because it’s fictional. The real complex systematic history of racism is not there in fiction. Billy Hargrove was never shown as explicitly racist on screen and even if he were since it’s fiction people can imagine him as if he wasn’t. Like in that made up scenario i’d still be like chill it’s fiction let people dream. If it were a real life scenario and Billy hadn’t intended to be racist. Race would still play a part because of the vast inequalities between how white and black people are treated. THIS IS FICTION. I really don’t know how to break it to y’all people could think he’s acting out because of the upside down monsters. As long as people don’t invalidate your interpretations it’s no problem. It will never be a problem that people aren’t interpreting something left up to interpretation. 

Just More Ramblings on my feelings

Personally I find it more of a problem that more production teams aren’t comfortable with giving more “Accurate” depictions of racism (I put quotes around accurate because there is a limit to how accurate representation can ever be. And it’s easier than me saying broad stories that can explicitly spotlight some of the discrimination black peoples face.) I also personally find it more of a problem that politicians keep funding police and their massacres on the black community. I also DO see billy’s actions as racist but since it wasn’t made finite in text (on the show not off screen) people don’t have to cuz it’s fiction. I also love my rat bastard & liking Billy Hargrove even tho I interpret his actions as racist doesn’t mean I STAN systematic racism. Liking a villain doesn’t mean condoning in real life harmful actions. Fandom would be way more enjoyable for you if let people who aren’t causing any harm enjoy their hobbies. Like fight the actual racists not the person who stans Billy because liking Billy doesn’t equate to excusing racism 😪

There’s so much more I could say but I’ll leave it at that for now

This post does a good job at elaborating on what I mean as well

[suiteofspades]

I'm sorry, but how fucking low do you think of me? To even consider that I would be romantically interested in sewer rot like this? Anonymous, I know you all highly dislike me, but this is just laughable and disrespectful.

I might be a rude, malevolent bastard, but this is simply cruel, thinking I would see this trash as anything but. Never in my many years of life on this god forsaken plane have I felt that way, let alone towards this pile of orange waste so many of you call your father.

Ignoring the unethical and frankly horrific technical age gap between us two, hasn't Michelangelo specifically asked you to not inquire about his or his family's love lives? Quite honestly you are not just disrespecting and belittling me, but also infringing on their own boundaries.

I will never, ever be your "uncle". To even suggest such a thing makes my very skin crawl with discomfort and disgust.

As creative and unusual as your torture is, dear Anonymous, I need you to take a god damn break from your screen. Fresh air can do wonders, you know. Maybe breathing something other than the air your computer pumps out will clear that head of yours of any insufferable ideas that we are some twisted "enemies to lovers" story.

I hold nothing but disdain and remorse for Michelangelo. He is an unfortunate case, and perhaps the hardest case I will ever need to work with. He has so much potential, so much potential to be great, yet he wastes it on parkour and frankly pitiful combat. I see him as nothing but a problem that I am the solution to.

So, that being said, Anonymous, let me set you as an example.

If any of you ever suggest something as proposterous and disgusting as this again, you won't breathe long enough to even read my response.

@non-finite-void You best be taking notes, student.

Uncle spade perhaps?-

Mikey x Spade real?

No disrespect

...

@suiteofspades