#we want to draw rick in a box

[artificerstimetable]

AurhghhfhrhgbrjwhtbsbdWE WANT TO FINSIH THIS GRRRRAHHHHgh

[dixongrimesgirl]

Gas Station

Carl Grimes x fem!reader smut 18+

request:You and Carl are walking through the woods in search of a gas station. You need fireworks for a plan to draw a herd of walkers away from a supermarket. You guys find said gas station and as you're looking for fireworks, Carl randomly gets a boner out of nowhere. Could be you, his best friend who he found very attractive but all he knew was that the problem needed to be fixed! So you two end up fucking in a gas station.

You were out looking for fireworks for Rick's plan Glenn and Rick went one way and you and Carl went the other. You thought splitting up was a bad idea (you've seen enough horror movies) but you couldn't help but be glad to get some time alone with your best friend and crush, Carl. You found a small gas station and cautiously entered.

You bent down to check under a shelf in one of the many boxes and that's when Carl's body reacted. You turned around and immediately noticed. "Everything okay?" you asked teasing him. "Yeah, yeah" he replies quickly. "I could help you if you wanted" you offer. And that's how you ended up here. Bent over the counter with Carl ramming into you from behind. "Carl!" you cry. "Shh it's okay baby" he whispers and snakes a hand around to massage your breast the other still placed tightly on your hip. "I'm gonna cum" you tell him but he stops his movements. "Not yet. Cum with me" he demands and you moan at how he's talking to you. You never thought being talked down to would turn you on but here you are with your crush, your body being brutally fucked by him and you feel the heat pooling in your belly. "Cum. Cum with me baby" he whispers in your ear and you feel the coil snap and you cry out as your orgasm rips through you. Your walls clench around him as he fills you up.

"That was perfect" he tells you. "It was" you agree. "Sorry to rush this but we should probably go find my dad and Glenn" he says. "Yeah" you agree and he kisses you. "But just know I'm not done with you yet." he says and grabs the fireworks before walking out of the gas station.

@taylormarieee

Thank you for your request

[of-many-fandomss]

Daryl taking care of sick reader for a valentines request if u would like to write it? 💗🤭

I love Daryl so much, and that’s a fact

—————

“Come on,” Daryl urged softly, “Lift yer head up… jus’ like that, there ya go.”

You groaned, flopping back against the extra pillow your boyfriend propped up behind you and pouted up at him, “This sucks,” Your voice came out sounding weird due to your congested nose.

His lips quirked up for the briefest of seconds before he cleared his throat, taking a step back from your bed, “Nah, it doesn’, jus’ focus on gettin’ better.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, not failing to notice the amusement in both his tone and expression that he was trying to hide, “What’s so funny?” You challenged, forcing down a cough that tried to rise up in your throat as you spoke.

“Nothin’, nothin’,” Though, Daryl couldn’t hold back a slight snicker any longer, “Your voice is just adorable.”

Under any other circumstance, you would be forced to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his words, instead you would smirk up at him and tease him mercilessly for thinking so. But now, laying on your bed in your shared cell in the prison, drowning in all the blankets that the others could find you, you could barely even shoot back a retort.

“It’s not adorable,” You whined, even as your words came out slightly slurred together, “And it’s not fair that this is happening on Valentine’s Day!”

That did manage to pull a frown out of your boyfriends face.

You have been raving for weeks about how you had managed to convince Rick to give the two of you the day off from any sort of responsibility so you could enjoy the day together. On more than one occasion, you excitedly talked your boyfriends ear off about the picnic you were planning for out in the yard, with the special food you had been able to scavenge while out on a run and the wine you had found.

Now though, you were holed up inside of the prison with a common cold, nonetheless, even in the midst of the apocalypse.

“‘M sure Rick’ll let us have yer picnic another time.” He reassured you, guilt rising inside his stomach a bit as he remembered how much this day meant to you.

“It won’t be the same,” You whispered, sliding backwards onto your pillows and sniffling for reasons that didn’t involve your sickness.

A moment later, you cleared your throat and sat up, “You should get out of here,” You told him, “I don’t need you getting sick on account of staying in here with me.”

He didn’t say anything, simply exiting the room, leaving you to let your head fall backwards against the cool, stone wall. But your eyes snapped up in curiosity when Daryl returned only a moment later, a basket and neatly folded blanket in his grip.

It was all the supplies you had carefully set aside for today.

“What are you-“

“Since we can’t go out, we’re gonna have the picnic in here.” He interrupted you, carefully unfolding and draping the blanket across the small ground space.

Your heart melted as he gently helped you down the bed, having you sit with your back against its frame and draped one of your blankets over your lap before plopping down on the other side of the blanket.

He began rummaging through the basket and pulled out its contents. It wasn’t much, but there was an unopened bottle of wine, a box of crackers, and some berries you had found growing near the gates.

“Daryl, maybe we should just do this another time, I really don’t want you catching this-“

“Hush, now.” He playfully scolded, munching down on a cracker, “It’s Valentines Day and ain’t no way we’re gonna spend it apart. This day means too much to ya.”

Despite yourself, tears began to fill your eyes and you looked over at your boyfriend with such love and adoration, that it made him falter slightly, “Thank you.” You whispered, “Thank you so much.”

He shrugged stiffly, swiping at his nose to try and draw attention away from the way the tips of his ears began to turn red, “‘S nothin’.” He mumbled.

“I love you.” You told him.

A smile crawled onto his lips, “There ya voice goes again, soundin’ all cute.” He said those words mostly to himself before looking at you and reaching over, pushing away a stray strand of hair from your eyes, “I love ya too.”

[lilgoblinbitch]

THE ONES WHO LIVE EPISODE FOUR (spoilers)

my reactions while i watch this masterpiece of an episode:

HELP OMG MY HEART IS POUNDING

why is there a roomba

HOLY FUCK THEY LANDED IN THE OCEAN OKAY

WHAT IS THIS GIANT BUILDING THEYRE IN

“we needed a time out” YES YOU DID TELL HIM BAE

“the hell is this place” ITS WHERE U AND MICHONNE ARE GONNA-

why are they both so sexy omfg this is ...

OMG MICHONNE HAVE MERCY Y ON ME

rick that stare is making me feel things, STOP.

IM SCREAIMUNG INTO MY PILLOW SO MY ROOMMATES DONT HEAR ME FOLDING OVER TWO FICTIONAL CHARACTERS

MICHONNE I COULD SEE U AS A CREATIVE WRITER OMGGGG

the queen is so smart and witty and STRONG HOLY SHIT???

no because if i was her at that moment i would be on the ground sobbing and convulsing

“CHILDREN?” HELP PLEASE SOMEONE

rj…

oh god.

WHAT THE FUCK RICK

WHY DO U THINK SHE PULLED YOU OUT OF THE HELICOPTER YOU DUMB MALE

have sex already please

MY TV PARENTS ARE FIGHTING :(

michonne it’s not that simple you can’t just go home yet :(

“what did they do to you” bad things :(

“do you still love me? :(“ MY POOR BABY MICHONNE

“little brave man” i can’t.

please smack some fucking sense into him michonne.

poor rick he’s so fucking broken. and poor michonne i can’t imagine what it feels like to find your husband after 8 years and he’s just…gone. 😔

STOP IT I DONT WANNA CRY AGAIN

THE WAY HE SAVED HER FROM THE BUILDING COLLAPSING

OH FUCK THE KNIFE OH NO OH NO THEYRE GONNA FIND OUT

LMFAOOOOOO MICHONNE IS SO SASSY I LOVE HER SM “I DONT EVEN HAVE A WEAPON, COMMANDO”

okay he deserved that shove from her.

ANDY AND DANAI DESERVE AN AWARD

oh god mich again i’m so sorry. rick is gone he’s got stockholm syndrome or some shit

rick lost his manners fr he is not treating his wife well, the blood on her face the “DAMMIT HUG THE WALL” UM RICK DO YOU KNOW WHO YOURE TALKING TO HELLOOO?????

uhhhhhh what is happening….

oh! i like this part :) (they’re kissing)

oh! i like this even more (they’re fucking)

OH FUCK YES I NEEDED THIS

oh poor rick my baby he waited for this moment for way too long

omg the look in their eyes STOP THIS IS SO MAGICAL AAHHHH

i’m actually fucking sobbing.

i love them sm i don’t ever want them to leave that bed (unless they go back to their children ASAP)

DARYL MENTION!!!!

“sit, rick.” YES COMMAND YOUR HUSBAND

“we, our family, are real. our love doesn’t get denied.” 👏👏👏👏

CARL MENTION PLEASE HELP HELP HELP IM NOT OKAY :(

rick sobbing makes my heart drop. this tissue box is my new bff.

the CARL DRAWING….

i’m still fucking sobbing. like, hysterically.

THE ELEVATOR MAKE OUT YESSS

THE CAR MAKE OUT YESSS

“WE CAN MAKE THIS WHOLE DAMN WORLD OURS IF WE WANT TO” YES YOU FUCKING CAN RICKY DICKY DOO DAH GRIMES!!!!

MY TV PARENTS ARE BACK TOGETHER YIPPIIEEE

holy shit that was truly an emotional rollercoaster. honestly this was my favorite episode. danai, you are fucking amazing, thank you for feeding us this delicious richonne meal today!!!

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

Hi there

Could you please do a Carl Grimes x fem!reader angst to fluff that takes place during beginning of season 6? Carl and the reader are a couple and super close. Ron likes the reader and is jealous of their relationship. Ron also wants revenge for his father’s death so he kidnaps Carl knocking him out and taking him outside beyond Alexandria. The reader finds a letter Ron left telling her he took Carl. Reader goes over the walls and tracks Ron and Carl and finds where they are. Ron threatens Carl and is about to kill him when the reader shows up just in time. Her and Ron fight with her winning the fight. She then frees Carl and once Carl is free a swarm of walkers start coming. Ron tries to escape but is surrounded and killed by the walkers. The reader and Carl escape the herd just in time and return to Alexandria. Carl kisses the reader all emotional while holding her not wanting to let go telling her he was afraid he’d never see her again and that Ron was going to hurt her. Reader and Carl then have a cozy night in cuddling with each other by the fireplace. Thank you.

A/N: This has been sitting in my asks for a while and I finally got around to it. And I’m sorry it does seem and feel rushed, but I will def come back to it, as well as my other stories, to tweak it and add stuff.

But for now this is the masterpiece, and I’m hopeful it’s still good nonetheless.

Pairing: Carl x Fem!Reader

—————

“Hey, how you been?” I smiled, seeing Carl walk over to me as I helped removed some supplies from out of the truck.

“Good, glad to see save.” Carl said and planted a kiss to my cheek, I laugh. My eyes trailed over to Ron as he huffed and quickly helped get the supplies off the truck.

“What’s up with, Ron?”

“I’m not sure actually, but what you can do- yeah? Is help me with the supplies.” I grin and handed him one of the boxes.

“Fine, fine.” He smiles back and went into the room Ron had just entered.

He placed the box on the floor, and went to go look into the boxes of food and various other items.

Carl picked up one of the cans and examined it, he was just about to put it back when hands grabbed onto him and one held a cloth to his mouth.

Carls screamed were muffled and quiet against the cloth, the can fell from his fingers as he suddenly fell unconscious. Ron taking this moment to drag him out of the room and just beyond the gated perimeter of the community.

(Y/N) waited for Carl to come back, but he didn’t.

‘It normally wouldn’t have taken him this long..’ She thought. She asked around Alexandria, Daryl, Michonne, Rick. Hell, she even asked Gabriel if he’d seen him.

No one. No one knew. No sign of him. Just left without a trace.

(Y/N) then began to panic, she checked the pantry one more time, and noticed something was placed down on the top of the boxes.

It was almost strategic. Like they wanted her to find this.



It was a note, but on the backside it was a hand-drawn with a red circle encompassing one of the locations on it.

She quickly let everyone know where she’d be and left with a gun and knife.

All she needed. Nothing more, nothing less.

She made it to the spot, just before sun down and called out to Carl.

“Carl? Carl? You here?”

“Shut up, or you’ll draw them in.” Ron said, as he held a gun to Carls head.

“Ron, listen to me.”

“No! You listen to me! We’ve known each other fro the start of this shit, and you go ahead and be with him? Him! Of all people?”

Ron exclaimed and (Y/N) slowly creeped closer to Ron. His seemingly still in his long explanation of why I should’ve chosen him instead of Carl.

“And he’s a murdered! He got my dad killed, why would you want to be with someone like that?”

“You’re right he is one, but why would you stoop to that level? His level?” I asked, reaching for the gun. “Gimme the gun and we can talk about it, no harm done to anyone.”

She was close to grabbing the gun, and Ron looked like he was going to give in but took it away last second and aimed it back at Carl.

She pushed the gun away from his hand, it fired. It missed Carl by a centimeter, but she didn’t have time to get Carl up, as she tackled Ron to the ground.

She took out her knife and stabbed Ron in the side he winced and pushed her off with a quickness, and had his hands around her throat trying to choke her out.

She was starting to lose consciousness, as she was feeling for a rock underneath her palm and quickly picked it up and hit Ron in the head with it, knocking him out instantaneously.

(Y/N) quickly unties Carls after cutting it with her knife, and noticed that walkers were coming.

“We gotta go! Now!” She exclaimed, grabbing her knife, and both her and Ron’s gun. And held onto Carls hand trying to run in the direction of Alexandria.

“Wait.” Carl stopped her wanting to see what happened to Ron. They watched as the walkers bit down onto his shoulder and his stomach. (Y/N) audibly groaned and looked away.

Carl hearing her sounds of disgust, stopped watching and followed her all the way back home.

Once they got there they banged on the gate, Sasha opened it and looked at them concerned. “The hell happened out there? You guys alright?”

We nodded, breathing heavily. They both hugged each other like their lives depended on it. “He, didn’t hurt you did he? Let me see.” He held my neck up to see if he left any bruises, “I’m fine. I swear it.”

“I was so scared he would hurt you, or take you away from me, or anything else. I just couldn’t-”

“And you didn’t, I’m here with you in this moment. So, let’s cherish it, yeah?” I kissed his cheek and led him into the house that was provided to us when we first got to Alexandria.

And one by one took turns taking a very much needed and well deserved, hot shower.

—————

After that whole thing, they set up a bonfire near the lake, and relaxed. Not a care in the world.

Nothing was wrong in the world, just them too.

“Hey, did you mean what you said back there? About me being a murderer and all?”

“No. No, no, I didn’t mean any of that. It was just to get Ron to drop the gun. I promise you anything I said back there wasn’t true. Okay?” He nodded and smiled. They leaned in and planted a kiss to each other’s lips, before admiring the night sky together.

“Don’t ever leave, okay?”

“As long you promise the same thing.”

“Deal.” They smiled and wrapped and arm around her shoulder.

[soupsspoons]

13. All Smiles

"This is--" Carol said softly, with an air of ingenuine hesitance, "Well, there's no other word for it, this is terrifying. All of it."

Her eyes were wide as she spoke, looking around the living room where most of Alexandria's residents stood. By now, Hannah had been able to pick up on Carol's game, the act of innocence she had put on. Ever since their conversation about Pete, Hannah knew there was more to the woman than anyone knew. She didn't blame her though, it made sense to pretend. By acting as though she knew nothing, she ensured that she could know everything.

Rick and Deanna told everyone to meet at her house in order to discuss what to do about the horde of walkers. Hannah was always confused when they called the creatures walkers. She liked her word, roamers, but they were all saying the same thing in the end. Walkers. Roamers. Creatures. It didn't matter, because either way, they were all running from the same evil.

Hannah wasn't technically supposed to be at the meeting, it's not like she could have helped them, but after begging Deanna, she was allowed to listen in. Things like this had always interested Hannah, she wanted to know what it was like to lead. As Carol spoke, she noticed Carter, a taller, balding man, silently disagreeing with everything that was said.

"But it doesn't sound like there's any other way." Carol finished speaking.

Carter immediately spoke when the woman went silent, "Maybe there is." He seemed nervous to speak, "I mean, couldn't we just build up the weak spots? I--I could write up the plan. I worked on the wall with Reg." He glanced over to Deanna. "The construction crew-- We could all try to make it safe." He spoke with desperation in his voice.

"Even if we could, the sound of those walkers is drawing more and more every day." Rick cut him off, shaking his head, "Building up the exits can't change that."

The room was silent, no one quite sure who to listen to.

"We're gonna do what Rick says, the plan he's laid out." Deanna finally added, keeping her eyes glued to the window she stood in front of.

And so, they began to assemble a group of volunteers.

---

Part of the plan that Rick had come up with was to build a wall. Hannah, Carl, Enid, and Ron had all been dispersed throughout the area, only allowed to help with simple tasks. Hannah didn't necessarily mind the restriction, at least she was doing something. But, she could see in Carl's face that he wanted to be more helpful, he wanted to take action.

Hannah was helping to lean sheets of metal against their posts, readying them to be nailed in. She and Rosita carried a sheet from the truck, each one taking a different side. Hannah hadn't talked to Rosita much, but she had always been intrigued by the woman. She was so strong and so smart. She was fearless.

As the two carried the sheets, Hannah glanced toward Carl, who was helping another group dig up the dirt surrounding the new wall. She hadn't spoken to him since everything happened with his dad. She didn't want to overstep anything, so she decided to give him space. But as they worked, Hannah couldn't help but watch the boy. He was talking with Enid, both smiling at whatever they had said. Carl was so good at confusing Hannah. She couldn't tell what his feelings for Enid were. Did he like her? Did she like him? And how did that make Hannah feel? Hannah knew Ron and Enid were together, but what does it mean to date in the apocalypse?

She didn't want to think about it anymore.

Hannah turned back to her work. Rosita had left to help Maggie with something, so she was left on her own. Hannah really wanted to help the community, but she wasn't entirely sure how. Hannah guessed that working on the wall was good, but was it good enough?

"Hey, kid" A low, gruff voice spoke from behind Hannah. She turned, startled by the noise, to see Daryl standing across from her. He held a box of nails in his hand, his bow slung over his back. Hannah didn't know what to say. If being around Rosita made her nervous, she couldn't imagine having a conversation with Daryl.

Hannah knew the man wasn't dangerous, the was apparent early on. However, he would always intimidate her.

"Hi," she said.

"Uh, Rosita sent me over to see if ya'll needed some help with the wall."

"Oh, well I'm sure we could use it," Hannah told the man. She expected him to leave her, most likely going off to work with someone from his group. However, he dropped the box to the ground and began to pick up a sheet of metal. Hannah looked at him, silently asking what he was doing. Daryl didn't look at the girl, but simply said, "We gotta build this up higher, who knows if them things can climb."

Hannah and Daryl worked for about twenty minutes in comfortable silence. They had built up about six feet of the wall, moving over slowly as they went. Carol had come around, passing out small styrofoam cups of water to each of the workers. Once Hannah grabbed her drink, she immediately sat on the grass, leaning against the wall they had just put up. She was exhausted from the work, even if it didn't feel like enough. The sun had been out all day, unhindered by clouds. Hannah sipped the water, tasting the plastic materials from the cup swim over her tongue. The water wasn't cold, but she didn't expect it to be. It was simply refreshing.

Soon after she sat, Daryl slowly crouched to the ground. Hannah didn't say anything as he pulled off his bow, placing it to the side farthest from her. They both sat, quietly sipping their water.

"You nervous?" Daryl asked randomly. He didn't look at Hannah, only staring ahead of him as he spoke. Everyone in his group loved to do that.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you nervous about the horde? I know some of the other kids are." Hannah once again didn't know how to respond. Apparently everyone, Maggie, Carl, and now Daryl, thought she was incredibly weak.

"I mean, I guess," Hannah shrugged, "Are you?"

"I guess" Daryl copied her words. This took Hannah by surprise. How was Daryl, the man who walked around with a crossbow and a scowl, scared?

"Really?" Hannah asked, unable to stop herself.

"Yeah." Daryl turned to Hannah, who looked at him with confusion, "What? You don't think I could be scared?" Daryl laughed lightly.

"I don't know" Hannah laughed with him. " You guys are all just— well I don't know." Hannah thought for a moment, unsure of how to describe the group. Daryl stayed quiet, letting her figure out what to say. "I just can't imagine you scared"

"We all get scared sometimes"

---

Eventually, Hannah became much too tired to continue working on the wall, and although she insisted she could stay, Maggie wouldn't take no for an answer. As she packed up her things, Hannah looked around the lot, wondering who else was left. Carol had gone home about an hour ago, and Daryl had left to talk to Rick not long after. She also noticed that Carl had slipped away a while ago, leaving Enid to talk with Maggie.

Hannah made her way home, carrying a light sweater that she had brought to the sight in case it got cold. She was only walking for a couple of minutes before the wind began to pick up and she was forced to put on the sweater. It was a blue knit cardigan, something Aaron had brought back from a run. The heat from the sweater helped her stay warm, but she was excited to get home and into bed. Hannah passed by the Grimes' house, only glancing at it as she walked. On the porch, Hannah could see Carl sitting on the wooden bench, a baby tucked into his arms. Judith was wrapped in a fuzzy blue blanket, her head completely covered by the fabric.

Hannah stopped walking. It was the blanket she had given the family when they first came to Alexandria. Carl was using her blanket.

"Hey."

Hannah looked up to see Carl waving softly at her. She hadn't realized he could see her.

"Hi"

Carl watched her for a moment, and he seemed to be mulling something over in his mind.

"It's cold tonight," Was all he said.

Hannah nodded at the boy. In an act of courage, she moved closer to the porch, now leaning on the rail in front of Carl. He didn't seem to mind. Carl noticed her movement and slowly moved over on the bench, creating a space for her to sit.

Hannah smiled, climbing up the steps onto the porch.

When she sat down, Hannah noticed Judith stir in her sleep, most likely annoyed at the new movement. Hannah's body went stiff, hoping not to wake the baby.

"She really likes the blanket," Carl spoke, ignoring the movements from Judith.

"I'm glad," Hannah told him.

"The whole thing was pretty cool, the basket."

Hannah chuckled lightly, "Really?"

"Oh yeah, it's really the only reason we stayed," Carl over-exaggerated. He smiled at Hannah as he spoke, waiting for her to catch on.

Hannah laughed harder than she meant to, quickly quieting herself so as not to wake Judith. She watched her in Carl's hands, delighted by the way she was snuggled into the blue blanket.

"Well, I got one when I first got here, so, you know." Hannah trailed off.

Carl rocked slightly on the bench, his arm brushing slightly against Hannah's own. He was warm, Hannah noticed, and she could feel him even through her sweater. She was comfortable next to him.

"Thank you," Carl told Hannah, though he was looking at Judith.

"For what?" Hannah asked.

"Just for everything, I guess." Carl looked at Hannah now. His dark eyes were soft as they looked into hers and there was a wonderful cool breeze that rushed over the two of them.

"You don't need to say 'thank you'." Hannah spoke without looking away, "We're friends, that's what friends do"

Carl's smile grew and he looked down at Judith in his arms.

"I'm glad to have a friend here."

---

The next day, Hannah saw Carl talking to Gabriel. She didn't want to eavesdrop on their conversation, but she couldn't help but wonder why they would be talking, especially after everything that had happened. She watched for a moment as Carl pulled a machete off of a table next to them, moving it around as if to show Gabriel something. Hannah realized, Carl was showing Gabriel how to use it. He was helping him. The sight made Hannah smile. She watched Carl explain different movements with the weapon, and then, she saw him very carefully hand it to the man.

Hannah didn't like Gabriel, and yet she was happy about what Carl was doing. The only reason Gabriel said what he did was because he was scared. He is scared. But rather than continue to shun him, Carl decided to help him learn how not to be scared.

Hannah thought back to the night before. He was so kind to her, so happy. She almost laughed at how much he had changed, how they all had changed.

All of this reminded Hannah of her plan, her 'learn how to be strong' plan. The next step would be to actually learn, and there was only one person she trusted to teach her that.

"I want you to teach me how to use your bow," Hannah said to Daryl, her voice unwavering. They were standing by the fence, Daryl looking down at her with a blank stare, showing no sign of what his answer might be. Hannah had found him working by the fence and knew this was her chance.

"Why?" He asked curtly.

"I want to protect myself." Hannah continued, matching his tone. He seemed to think about her request, considering what it would mean for him. His face was still bare and Hannah shuffled back and forth on her feet, waiting for Daryl's answer.

She began to doubt her decision to ask. Sure they had talked at the wall, but that didn't make them friends. She let her eyes fall to the ground as she waited for the response.

"When I get back. When the horde is gone." Daryl said simply.

Hannah's head shot up. Daryl gave her a small yet genuine nod before walking away and Hannah smiled bigger than she had all day. She was going to learn to be strong.

---

Hannah needed to walk after her conversation with Daryl. She didn't know why, but she knew she needed to move. Hannah walked to the gazebo, then to the infirmary, and then back to the center of town. She was too happy to care how late it was. As Hannah walked, the sun began to set around her, leaving the sky a beautiful pinkish orange, speckled with smudges of purple.

As she finally reached her house, Hannah was met with a man. He was standing by her door, his back facing her. He was hunched and she couldn't see his face, but Hannah smiled, knowing it was Ron.

"What are you doing?" Hannah asked, walking up to the boy. It was odd for him to be here this late, but Hannah wasn't going to turn him away.

Ron quickly turned, as if he didn't expect her to be anywhere near her own home. When he fully turned, Hannah could see his face was pink and his cheeks were stained with tears. Quickly, she moved closer to him, her face turning concerned.

"Ron, what happened?" Hannah asked, "What are you doing?"

But Ron didn't look her in the eye.

"I saw you with Carl."

Hannah stopped.

"What?"

"I saw you talking to Carl earlier," Ron said it like it was obvious.

"Yeah?" Hannah still didn't understand what the boy meant. She stepped closer to him, reaching her arm out slightly. He moved back, pulling his arm out of reach. Hannah's face fell deeper.

Ron's eyes met hers, "How could you do that?"

"Do what, Ron? Me and Carl?" Ron said nothing, "We were talking about Judith, Ron."

"His dad killed my dad!" Ron screamed at her and Hannah could see the tears forming back in his eyes. She gasped and stepped back, stumbling on the step of her porch.

"Ron--" Hannah tried.

"No, Hannah, forget it. You don't get it."

"Ron, it's not Carl's fault. It's not anyone's fault." Hannah knew that was a lie.

Ron's nose flared and he looked away from Hannah. It was like he couldn't even look at her.

"Of course, you take his side," Ron mumbled.

"His side-- Ron!" she stepped closer again, "Pete was hurting you. He was hurting all of you!" Hannah snapped and Ron turned back to her. Hannah could feel her eyes become glossy, and she balled her fists, begging the tears not to fall. She had cried in front of Ron before, but never because of him.

Ron's face was hard as he spoke, "It doesn't matter."

"It does," She spoke softly.

Before Hannah could stop him, Ron left his spot on the porch, leaving her alone.

Hannah took in a deep breath, unable to comprehend what has just happened. She leaned against her door taking in shaky breaths.

What just happened?

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Hiiiii Loveliesssss! omg I kinda love and hate this chapter, idk? But either way, it's definitely one of my longer chapters so yayy. I'm so happy with the Carl moment and I've literally been planning it for so long. I'm still kind of worried that Hannah and Ron's relationship might be coming off differently than I want but oh well. I'm also so happy we finally got a Daryl and Hannah scene!! If you couldn't tell I've been planning that too. I hope you all enjoyed!!

p.s I'm sorry this is coming out so late in the day I was busy watching The Last Vampire On Earth (You have to watch it it's so funny)

Thanks for Reading!

[jo-harrington]

For ASSB blurb game!!

So I wanted to break away from western/North American cryptids and try drawing inspiration from Filipino mythology? The Manananggal is a vampire with a proboscis-like tongue that preys on sleeping people, newlyweds, and pregnant women. This bloodsucker detaches its torso from its lower half and sprouts wings. What a Girlboss!

Oh ho ho. Drac you gorgeous genius. I love you. Thank you for not keeping this in a box, because a) I’m a mythology and supernatural (not the tv) girlie and this sounded familiar (I was thinking penenggalan…but they're both terrifying and I love them) it gave me a chance to dig into the origins of both a little more and b) the holy order in the Van Helsing movie (in the brief moments we see on screen) had knights from many cultures. So it stands to reason that they would be familiar with (or even come face to face with) creatures outside of Western and North American origins.

And truly…This. This was what I was waiting for. Maybe not Manananggal specifically. But…some kind of vampiric entity. It’s a vampire story! Let’s get some vampires in here.

Maybe not what you were thinking of specifically...but I hope you like it anyway. (It's lengthy and not that sexy...sorry.)

TW: Angst, parental death (both mentioned and alluded to), difficult familial relationships, grief (for many things)

Find other Hymns of Heaven here.

And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.

January 1985

Dinner at Rick's was a standing appointment.

First Thursday of the month, 7pm, butts in chairs, bring a dessert if you want.

He and Eddie would eat, maybe smoke a little once Eddie re-upped his supply--but Rick's nerves were usually a little more calm when Eddie was around--and then talk about school, and the band, and about you.

Of course the talk about you was less frequent once you started joining them. Then Rick wanted to know everything straight from the horse's mouth.

"Eddie's a liar," the older man cackled the first time he asked you a question over tuna noodle casserole and homemade potato chips, and Eddie went to answer it for you. "A fibber. You've heard his tall tales, I'm sure. He's been telling them ever since I met him. 7 years old and missing his two front teeth. Lied right through the holes."

You begged Rick for pictures and it didn't take long for the dishes to be pushed to the side so you could see polaroids of a smaller Eddie, a less-weathered Wayne, a brighter-eyed Rick, and a woman with fluffy dark curls and the kindest smile you'd ever seen.

Eddie's mom.

Rick waxed poetic about how he had always been a little sweet on her, but once Eddie's dad was sent away she just needed a little extra kindness. The kindness of someone to rally the patience of the regulars over at Benny's, someone to drive her and Eddie home after a shift that one time her car just wouldn't start and it was storming outside, someone who would put her favorite songs on the jukebox because her extra change went to a nest egg so she and Eddie could get their own place someday and Wayne could get his bedroom back.

Eventually that kindness turned into tenderness, then love, and before long they were making plans to move in together. To be a family.

But then she was gone, and those plans became just another could-have-been, should-have-been.

After that first night, after you held both Rick and Eddie's hands with tears in your eyes, the invitation for Dinner was open to you.

Forever, if you wanted.

And Eddie knew you did.

Which was why Eddie was waiting in the van to pick you up.

First Thursday of the month, 6:55PM.

Typically you'd just run out just after 6:45, a saran-wrap covered dish in your hand. Eddie would drive his usual speed of fast, radio set to deafening, to get across town in record time. And the grandfather clock in Rick's hallway would chime just as Rick opened the door for the two of you.

Eddie could set his watch to the routine by now, and he had been tempted to make a joke when you got down to the car that he would.

You were just...running late today.

Which was unlike you.

He gave you a little grace period at first, a minute or two that he could easily shave off with shortcuts and a lead foot. He briefly wondered if you had some lady business going on and thought of offering to run into Melvalds for you when you got downstairs, but those few minutes quickly turned to ten and he knew that he should be well past the point of worry.

He turned the van off, made it into the building, and bounded up the steps to your apartment.

He fully intended to give Rick a call once he was inside and made sure you were alright.

But he found the door ajar.

And all thought of easing Rick's mind left him.

Instinctually and with no care for his own safety, Eddie burst through the door, only to find you sitting on your sofa, eyes wide and wet. You were still dressed in your work clothes, and there was a small wooden crate on the coffee table in front of you.

You startled at the loud bang of your door slamming against the doorstop, and you dropped the object in your hand.

"Shit." You jumped to your feet and covered your face for a moment, before you rubbed your fingers into your eyes. "Shit! Oh no. Rick. Eddie I'm so sorry. Shit."

"Are you ok?" He crossed the short distance and cupped your face in his hands. Without the distance, it was obvious that you'd been crying. "What happened? What's wrong? The door was left open."

"I'm sorry. I lost track of time,” you stammered and grabbed onto his wrists, tightly. Almost too tight for comfort, more like a plea. “A-and there was this box that got delivered and I was just…I’m sorry.”

“Hey don’t worry.” He took a few breaths to calm himself from the panic that had overtaken him when he thought you were in danger, and then leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Dinner's just gonna be a little cold. It’s ok.”

You gave him a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"Let me clean up and then we can go," you offered.

"Sounds like a plan."

But neither of you moved.

You closed your eyes and took heavy, calming breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Your thumbs caressed over Eddie's wrists; whether to reassure him or yourself, he wasn't sure.

Eddie watched your lip tremble every so often, felt your breathing change as though you had something to say...but no words came.

He wanted to say something, to comfort you, but sometimes there were just no words he could say.

Which was especially difficult for him.

So instead of trying to fill the silence in the room, he filled the silence in his own head. Or rather...redirected the noise from worry over you to...

He could see you in his mind's eye. You came home from work, you fumbled with your keys like you always did as you got out of the car. Was it waiting at the door for you? Just...sitting there ominously or maybe the mail man left it at the deli and the owner waved you in to get it.

...the crate.

His eyes shifted over your shoulder and locked onto it.

Small, covered in various labels and stamps; the lid propped against the leg of your coffee table was marked "FRAGILE" and "PAR AVION" in big red letters.

His thoughts immediately turned to the postcard you'd gotten at Christmas, and curiosity immediately got the better of him.

"Did you mail order something?" Your eyes shot open and you immediately stiffened under his touch.

Eddie knew...he knew that wasn't it, but he couldn't help but play dumb and hope you would share this with him. Share the reason you were upset. Let him in for once.

"I know my birthday isn't for a little while but..."

"Umm." Your hands slid from his wrists and you pulled back from his touch slightly; one hand moved to fiddle with the cross on your necklace. "No. My...my dad sent me some things."

It was more than you wanted to say, and he knew he shouldn't have pushed for more but...

"Is it...a late Christmas gift or something?" he asked hesitantly. "He sent you that card from Scotland."

"No...well actually he..." You scrunched your nose a little and swallowed thickly. Eddie could see a thousand thoughts race in your eyes. "He always traveled for work. Ever since I could remember."

"Ok?" That was it? "So it is?"

"I...I guess so...he always sent home things from all these different places that he thought I might like...or would be useful. Books, or...there was this one time he sent home these dried flowers and my mother thought they were for her. But in actuality...well my dad got home and they...hmmm..."

You trailed off with a frown and you looked lost. Your gaze went out of focus, looking through him rather than at him, and your breathing got heavier once again.

A broken, choked sound escaped your throat and Eddie held his hands out, ready to take hold of you, ready to apologize for pushing.

He knew that sound.

But you took a deep breath and became very still.

He had made sounds like those once.

Your jaw clenched.

You made a sound like that once and it had completely broken him, shaken him. He respected you and never asked questions about that night. And now here you were again and instead of trying to make things better he was making them wo--

"He tried his best," you said, the misery that had previously begun to wrack your body gone. "He wasn't a good father. But I wasn't a very good daughter either.

You waved your hand dismissively towards the box.

"I'll get over a...shitty late Christmas gift. Now I'm gonna get changed. And then we can go."

It was said with a tone of finality. You turned to head to the bathroom and although Eddie wanted to chase after you, to let you take out whatever anger and pain you had on him, he knew it would only make you push him away.

The bathroom door shut and Eddie's focus went back towards the crate.

All he wanted to do was grab the lid and shut the contents away. That was all. And he didn't mean to look, but he couldn't help but see.

A bag that looked like something a doctor or a traveling salesman would carry, a large silver crucifix, a dusty jar full of dried heads of garlic, and a stained handkerchief.

His gaze then turned to the object you had dropped on the floor: a worn, leather-bound book. A journal.

He scooped it up and it fell open to a page towards the end that had been bookmarked by a thin gold chain.

Eddie didn't understand a majority of text, handwritten in some sort of shorthand or language that looked unfamiliar. Manananggal was written larger than everything else, underlined, and the letters scribbled over many times to make them bolder.

On the facing page, there was a sketch of a woman, or at least...it looked like a woman. With wings and sharp teeth and claws. Her torso was separated from the lower half of her body and her entrails created some sort of web between them. A tongue slithered from her mouth and crossed the gutter and actually made up the underline.

Eddie briefly wondered if your father was the reason you knew so many folktales and monsters. He always thought it was the coolest thing about you...sometimes he wondered if you knew more than him. He had always attributed it to your religious upbringing...but...given the brief glimpse of the contents of the crate...he wondered if there was something a little more sinister.

He flipped through the pages for a moment, and while there were other, similarly laid out pages before the marked page, the ones after it were all blank.

As he flipped, the chain slid against the rough pages and rested against his fingers, and upon further inspection he found that the chain was actually a necklace with a little round medallion.

A hand holding a sword, encircled by words.

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen.

The door to the bathroom opened and Eddie immediately shut the journal with the necklace tucked inside, and set it atop the crate.

If you thought he had been snooping, you didn't mention it.

You simply gave him a sweet kiss, and pulled him out of the apartment so you could make it to Rick's for dinner

Eddie tried to push all of the questions he had away, he tried to offer you the silent comfort he knew you needed without making it too obvious. He did his best to pretend everything was alright, and that everything would be.

Then a week later, he woke up to you talking to yourself and pacing. And some thing was in his bedroom.

[mort-alicious]

REQUESTS!

I hope all of you (yes, all seven of you) will be pleased to hear that ive decided to open requests! For both art and writing

These are all completely free, but first we need to set boundaries.

What will i write/draw?:

-angst

-fluff

-romance

-prompts/ scenarios.

What wont i write/draw:

-incest

-smut

-i will not write torture for the purpose of sexual enjoyment (i have been requested this before :,) )

I will add more later most likely. But! I will write/draw for more than just Rick and Morty!

Fandoms:

-Hannibal (NBC)

-Rick and Morty

-Harry Potter

-Good Omens

-Percy Jackson

-Jujutsu Kaisen

-Ace attorney

If you wish to request me, i ask you to please be clear with what you would like! If you have a request, input it into the ask box and i will confirm or deny your request along with the reason for denial. (E.g, if i have too many requests, i will do yours eventually, i just dont have 100 hands!)

Please be respectful, i am doing all this as a hobby!

Edit: We will also need to communicate over Dms if you do request, dependant on what you want, please keep this in mind if you wish to request!

Edit 2: added the option to request art from me (also for free)

[potetosaradas]

22 (Young Rick), 8 (Blood sweeter than water) and 7 (precanon Prime) 🩵 for the fandom ask game

OOOOOO THANK YOU FOR ASKING HEX!! <3 lets see...

22. Give us a headcanon for [Young Rick]

AHHH god sksksk well

I'm not sure about hcs but I do like to characterise Young Rick as a little naive. He's not stupid exactly, he's the kind of guy that thinks science can save the world-- the kind of guy that thinks hey, if i have the power to save the situation why NOT interfere and get involved? Only because I love seeing Young Rick being broken down by life and his choices, turning him into the cynical old man Rick we know today heh. He's a little shy, totally nerdy of course. When he lived on his own, he ate the same things every single day-- probably something like the boxed Kraft mac and cheese lmao

8. How did you come up with the title to [Blood Sweeter than Water]

I'll be very honest, i suck at coming up with titles LMAO, but this one was inspired by a few things

obviously first and foremost, the blood in question is quite sweet which the boys find out through morbid and gross curiosity lol

i thought a lot about the phrase 'blood thicker than water' and how it represents brotherhood, as well as putting your brotherhood over your family (traditional sense of the meaning??) i've been wanting to focus more on partners in crime prickcest/besties/working together prickcest so this was sort of a call to that...

7. Is there a piece of clothing you think [Prime] is particularly fond of/that you imagine them wearing a lot or like to draw them in?

I definitely think that Prime loves his jacket-- that man probably designed it himself lmao probably lives in it 24/7 thinks its super cool. it reeks of cigarette smoke, actual smoke and chemicals lmao it's probably got a shit ton of hidden pockets too. I like to draw Prime (and Rick) wearing sweatpants (mostly bc the art i like to draw is domestic fluff) and i love seeing them relaxed and lounging around their home in comfy clothing being vulnerable with each other ><

[3dsmall]

lately ive been sleeping 10+ hrs at a time and dreaming hardcore, half lucid or with parts where I “wake up”. Then when I genuinely wake up, my whole body and duvet and sheets and clothes are soaked in sweat.

3 separate seating sections in a restaurant, lady in green puts her hand in my hair to feel around for extensions. I’m like five or six twelve year old girls being bribed for sexual favors, having boxes of frozen key lime pies delivered to my home but too heavy to lift over the locked gate. Massive blue comme does garçons boots. Creepy men try to get in my house.

in love with like four girls I met at a Starbucks at 2am, they are all in love with each other except for one with darker skin named Mary who loves her black bearded boyfriend who plays in a bachata band at Starbucks. He is fine as fuck and wears an incredibly fine expensive woven Panama hat. His hair is thick and the darkest possible black.

I keep spending huge amounts of money on cake. All the workers at all the cafes and restaurants are impressed with how much money I spend on cake. Some cake is cut into tiny rectangular slices with words on them to arrange like fridge magnets but I just eat them.

Beautiful patio outside of the starbucks except for the plastic blue Christmas trees. but maybe I like them, I’m not sure. There are rare anthurium everywhere. A terrifying older lady named Shirley is quick to anger and has the tiniest waist I’ve ever seen. Long lovely skirts. She’s a very unfair boss whose favor I’d like to earn.

Traffic is crazy because there are huge lines of cars trying to get to a “CESPEX” a mini store within Home Depot that sells a new kind of dark chalky paint that people are excited about. I think “this seems crazy now but we will all forget about it in five years until someone brings it up and we are shocked by the memory”

Turns out all the hot Starbucks lesbians I am in love with are on crack and heroin. But even worse, they have bad taste and watch Rick and Morty together while making bad colored pencil drawings. I still sort of want them to fuck me with strap on.

At the 3-section restaurant, I serve small ecosystems as expensive meals. live growing lettuce and tide pools full of snails for the customer to kill and eat. I am not sure if I should put the black and pink anthurium next to each other. Everything is exquisite. I am gifted a rare anthurium and I start to cry with gratitude

[deputygonebye]

@depictedblue asked: are you… laughing at me?

Pride and Prejudice (2005) Prompts.

Remuneration that took to a form other than coin, not made of silver or gold, meaningless change that was once called dimes, pay for all the loss and missed opportunity. Chances that had been ruthlessly stolen, the last sort of happiness that Shane could dare say was his own. A small sliver of heaven that was bestowed - recompense for the otherwise criminal bastard - a memory that could never be erased. Sprawled across carpet, stationed in the living room, accompanied by laughter and giggles that sounded so sweet. Surrounded by colorful crayons, cardboard box rested close by, white paper that was decorated in swirls and jagged lines, a sunflower and open field. A collaboration that didn't yet have a name, the combined efforts of two made into one. Judith and Cassie; the best of friends despite the years between them. Despite the years that had kept Cassie and Shane apart.

Shane had made no effort to keep her hidden. Would never dream to do so, for all the problems that had taken hold of he and Lori, of he and Rick, Judith was never a mistake. Brown eyes and thick hair; the love of her father's life, the person who gave reason to survive another day. Judith was adored. Cherished, protected beyond all costs, spoiled with what could be gifted. Shane loved her. Loved her more than all the stars in the sky, tried to be the best he could, what he, himself, had not found in a father. Never to be compared to Jonathan, would've rather died, Shane did everything for Judith. Lived and breathed for her sake, Cassie returned to him made it all complete. All the heartache, the grief over what had been he and Lori. What he had thought was true, love so raw and vulnerable, unmatched once Cassie came back to him, her lips delicate in kiss. Loss and gain; his child and sweetheart with him, Shane's dreams come alive.

Unbeknownst to they, soles light along the floor as feet stepped, Cassie assisting Judith with the drawing of what seemed to be a dog, Shane watched. Smiled bright - the lines by his eyes strong - laughed despite the best of effort not to. Distracted from the pain of his nose, the burn that came from hitting his face against a piece of lumber, the challenge of rebuilding Alexandria, he found joy.

"No, Cassie. I would never!" Shane replied in mock defense, the failure of being caught too apparent. "Just admirin' the view is all. Say, what you ladies up to? Makin' art?"

Shane crept nearer, crouched down low so he, too, was on the carpet, a kneel, kissed the top of Judith's head then Cassie's lips, a lingering affection that he savored devilishly.

Shane said once he broke free, a 'hello, baby' still fresh on his tongue. "Lookin' good, Judy. I like that sun there. You make that for me, sweetheart, or what? And Cassie... love that dog. You know, I always wanted a dog. Grandma Jean never let me have one. Said they were too much work and that I was trouble enough. Guess I get one now, huh? You girls put your names on there, I'll stick it on the fridge when you're done. Think we could use some art on there, don't you, Cas? Somethin' from our family."

[arpov-blog-blog]

The mantra that Biden is too old to be an effective President is not supported by reality. He looked pretty damn effective handling the MAGA GOPers at the SOTU for the 2nd year in a row. Forget about the media coverage and get to work turning out the vote for Democrats up and down the ballots especially the Senate. We don't need Rick Scott at the Majority Leader, he wants to cut Medicare and Social Security...."The irate chorus aimed at one of America’s most storied media institutions followed finger-pointing at the legal system for failing to stop Trump in his tracks. Despite much wishful thinking, primary election results this week made clear that the nation is hurtling towards a Biden v Trump rematch in November.

That polling and media coverage are imperfect, and the wheels of justice of turn slowly, is beyond dispute. But whatever the merits of the arguments, critics argue that Democrats are at risk of playing a blame game that distracts them from the central mission: defeating Trump at the ballot box.

Tara Setmayer, a senior adviser to the Lincoln Project, an anti-Trump group, said: “Commiseration is not a strategy and Democrats need to stop throwing political temper tantrums and do the work to unify and get Joe Biden re-elected. The courts, the media, late-night comedians are not going to save us. So this whining and complaining about these aspects being unfair is not a strategy for victory.”

Among some Democrats, there has long been a yearning for a saviour who will stop Trump in his tracks. Hopes were pinned on the special counsel Robert Mueller, but his Russia investigation lacked teeth and failed to bring the president down. Two impeachments came and went and the Senate missed a historic opportunity to bar from Trump running again.

Now resentment is focused on the supreme court and the attorney general, Merrick Garland, for dragging their feet on holding Trump accountable for his role in the 6 January 2021 attack on the US Capitol. The court issued a unanimous decision that Colorado and other states do not have the power to remove Trump from the ballot for engaging in an insurrection.

A justice department case alleging that he sought to overturn the 2020 election, which had been due to begin this week, was postponed until the supreme court rules on whether he is immune from prosecution. And an election interference case in Georgia is also on hold because the prosecutor Fani Willis is dealing with allegations of a conflict of interest over a romantic relationship.

In Florida, where Trump is charged over his mishandling of classified government documents, he managed to draw a friendly judge who has indicated the trial will not start soon. That means the case likely to start first is one in New York relating to Trump paying hush money to an adult film star during the 2016 election campaign, widely portrayed in the media as the weakest of the four.

Yet such a case would have been devastating to any other candidate at any other moment in history. Allan Lichtman, a history professor at American University in Washington, said: “He’s going to be on trial for 34 felony counts in less than three weeks and the mainstream media has barely indicated the importance of this.

“‘Oh, it’s just a hush money trial.’ No it’s not. He’s not on trial for hush money. He’s on trial for election fraud, not just paying the hush money but deceiving the American people by concealing it as a business expense.”

Lichtman added: “If this was anybody but Trump, any other presidential candidate on trial, it would be the trial of the century and the mainstream media would be screaming that, if the candidate got convicted, he should be bounced from from the campaign. Instead they’ve misrepresented and trivialised this case.”

Trump has long challenged media orthodoxies. During the 2016 campaign, the New York Times used the word “lie” in a headline – a move that would have been seen as judgmental and editorialising in the pre-Trump era. In 2019, the paper changed a headline, “Trump urges unity vs racism”, after an outcry from readers and progressive politicians.

Television has also struggled to find the right approach. There was much introspection over how saturation coverage of Trump’s 2016 campaign rallies and tweets gave him $5bn in free advertising, according to the media tracking firm mediaQuant. Cable news networks have drastically reduced their live coverage of Trump’s speeches, although some commentators warm that the pendulum has swung too far in the opposite direction, contending that voters need to see his unhinged antics, verbal gaffes and extremist agenda.

With Super Tuesday’s primary elections clearing the way for another Biden v Trump clash, some accuse the media of focusing too much on polls and not enough on the stakes, treating Trump as just another political candidate rather than an existential threat. They say the intense focus on Biden’s age – he is 81 – is wildly disproportionate when set against Trump’s authoritarianism and 91 criminal charges.

Setmayer, a former Republican communications director on Capitol Hill, said: “The media has clearly not learned its lesson from 2016 or 2020 on how to cover Donald Trump. This is not a conventional horse race election. There’s nothing normal about any of this so, by covering Biden and Trump equally, it minimises Trump’s considerably disturbing behaviour, comments and plans for the future.

“The Democrats do have a legitimate complaint with the way the media is bothsides-ing this. The media should not be under any obligation to tell both sides of a lie or conspiracy theory or leading presidential candidate’s desire to tear up the constitution and become a dictator on day one. All things Donald Trump has said he would do.”

[angelic--vomit]

I fucking love Rick's bedroom, it really shows a lot about who he actually is to his family and who he is as a person

Rick's room is sparse, there's barely anything personal there, everything is related to work, there are no real 'decorations', no real personal belongings, he doesn't even have his clothes placed in a closet, his stuff is still in boxes

He sleeps in a foldable cot with just one pillow as if he were just staying there temporarily

Because he was

He's a stranger in his own home

His room is also significantly smaller than all the other rooms (in the episode where Diane appears, her room looks cozy, comfy, like an actual guest bedroom, so we can say that the Smith's do have a real guest room) there are boxes and items that don't seem to be all his too

The only personal thing rick has in his room are the pictures on the wall, i know that the drawings and pictures on the wall are probably just easter eggs but all the pictures of characters in the wall are characters we assume to have died

Is he keeping track of the people he lost? Is he keeping track of the details he might need to keep when for when he needs to look for a new universe? Is he looking for prime? We can't tell, it's messy and jumbled, it only makes sense to him

Maybe we can chalk it up to Rick probably spending most of his time in the garage and that's another thing!!!! The place he occupies the most, the place he calls his, isn't even really part of the house, it's the garage

Because he doesn't view himself as part of his family

He was a stranger that wandered into their lives

And also, it isn't that Rick doesn't like comfort, he does, he even complains to the vindicators about it and he has an entire planet for his damn toilet

But his bedroom is so empty

Sleep is comfort and rick doesn't want himself to have that, not in the home of the daughter that he lost

Idk tho

ricks bedroom basically doesn’t exist to me. we see it so rarely i forget he doesn’t just pass out in the garage/sub basement all the time

[talenlee]

Story Pile: Inside Job

I guess it’s hard to recommend Inside Job. I mean not in the broadest way, where I can just say ‘it’s a funny adult comedy that doesn’t seem to venerate being a selfish asshole, and it looks like a lot of them these days, with the same general level of competence.’ It’s you know, the way that Rick and Morty pissed on its aesthetic to mark its territory and now any animation that puts in too much effort or has lines that are too clean winds up being seen as ‘like that.’

I don’t know if Inside Job is like that, because I haven’t seen Rick and Morty past the opening of the first episode. Didn’t jam with it, and instead watched other stuff I found more engaging instead. Like Inside Job!

No, what makes it hard to recommend is, and, like, reader – can I call you reader? – sure, okay, reader, the thing is, this is a shortish TV series that draws on modern mythologies of the conspiracy theory griftscape in which I grew up. It uses the ongoing behaviour of an overachieving conspiracy theorist father who doesn’t respect his kid as a plot point. One character idolises toys and franchises from the 80s because it lets him pretend he has an idealised family life that was fun. Oh, and the main character, Reagan, feels like an export of one of my friend’s OCs so closely that she uses Reagan gifs for reactions.

The series doesn’t feature a long form sequence of a character beating a priest to death or a thesis about how game play lets us choose our identities, but like, it’s otherwise hits pretty close to me individually.

Okay, like, it’s a great show! And when I say that it’s just as a sort of puzzle-box version of ‘I liked the experience of watching this show’ so you don’t feel you need to untether that and pick through all the possible permutations of what that might mean by me liking the show so instead we stamp on these labels like ‘good’ or ‘great,’ since I mean, I do think I can give you that ballpark of a generality of how good media is, how, you know, you can’t just necessarily think that media is ‘good’ in and of itself, but when I say ‘it’s good’ you know pretty much what I mean by that, within some bumpers. It’s not going to drop a random slur or something into the conversation, right, and of course, as a conspiracy theory based piece of media there’s going to be a heaping help of Let’s Be Very Clear This Isn’t About The Jews in all the jokes and the structures around those jokes.

It brings in Jeff Bezos for a cameo, then makes him look like a big dumb shithead, which sure, that’s some ‘acceptable billionaire targets’ and it doesn’t matter really, like it’s not praxis or anything but it is nice to watch a mainstream show that goes ‘you know, yeah, billionaires suck and we don’t need to invent one as an example.’ That’s in an episode that makes fun of how much Flat Earthers suck, and I think it’s a bit of a missed opportunity that it doesn’t make a point of how religious Flat Earthers tend to be,

Wait, you didn’t know that?

Oh yeah, like even the most science-brained of flat earthers typically, even for a diffuse group like them, you scratch the surface and you find frustrated catholics and antisemetic fundamentalist christians (but I repeat myself) just waiting underneath, all mad that a literal interpretation of certain phrases in the Bible doesn’t actually coincide with reality (because hey, that happens).

Uh anyway where was I,

Oh yeah like, there’s stuff about James Bond? And how that whole story, like, the whole point of James Bond as the movies depict him, is counter-conspiracy against conspiracy? Right? Like doom lasers and secret bases and all that stuff, that’s conspiracy theory guff, and James Bond is a government counter-conspiracy operative. He can do all sorts of goofy stuff, go where he wants, all his toys and tools? Same thing, conspiracy theory ‘hey, we have this tech we just can’t let the public have it yet.

And then, since he’s part of that space, Inside Job has episodes about what an absolute ass James Bond would be to interact with! It’s pretty funny, especially in the ways it draws parallels between rivalries and relationships and how, y’know, when you – when you – I mean, if you draw them down to their base parts, a lot of how we talk about and engage with relationships, romantic ones, tends to be built out of a language that’s used for conflict and harm. Pretty fucked up when you think about it, but like, not made as a hard point. It’s pretty cool, I liked that episode a lot too.

It was almost as good as how the episode about the 1980s seems really different to those people who grew up promised what they offered and never got it versus all the people who were excluded even from that promise. I mean I didn’t get all of it, because I was too young in the eighties and mostly spent my nineties in a cult that meant I uh, didn’t learn much about 80s culture, but still! It even has a great outburst, too!

Uh what else

What else…

Oh, Alex Hirsch is in it and he’s really funny for his few short scenes.

Like, I don’t know, I feel like all you really need to know about Inside Job is either that it exists, because Netflix haven’t done a good job of making sure anyone knows about it, or you already knew it existed but were afraid it was Just Another One Of Those Shows, and I’ll admit it, it is a show where a woman shouts SUCK MY DICK! at her coworkers before going to contemplate how much easier her work would be if she could just control all of their neurons. It’s not like it’s not wearing its Millenial Edgy But Not That Edgy interests on its sleeve or nothing. But you saw a pitch like conspiracy theory based adult cartoon comedy focusing on an autistic girl who rules and you probably started looking for a torrent before reading the rest of the article, or you were never going to.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[frankhightower]

I stand with Rick Griffin (2)

"When I made the drawing of the baobabs I was carried beyond myself by the inspiring force of urgent necessity." —Antoine de Saint Exupéry, The Little Prince This is a protest drawing. It is protesting what I considered a great injustice: the removal of one of @@rickgriffin's artworks from FA. But more than the specific work, it's about what I considered a disproportionate action against an upstanding citizen of the FA "nation" Rick was deliberately trying to show that artwork can incorporate AI imagery without being completely, or even mostly, AI generated. In his case, he needed the glow of a city over the edge of a hill (which is a pain to draw as every artist knows I'm sure), and asked an AI to generate just that, while he drew the character, the path and vegetation on our side of the hill (i.e. the viewer's side), arguably the hill itself, and a vehicle for the character. I set out to create a similar image: where the AI just fills in some background element, but more than the remaining 60% is definitely hand-crafted original. Rick Griffin's point was clear: this is no different than using a photo and painting over it. My point (I hope) was clear: this is no different than putting the Mona Lisa in the background. But to be fair, it is different: when using a photo, you have to make sure you have the rights, or you have to go out and snap it yourself, pick the right angle, time of day, etc. When using a famous painting, it's an homage; advertising for the artist if you will. Using AI tools remove these mechanisms because there's no way –barring a future court order to make the AI "explainable"– to know who the original author/s are/were. Not that we knew that at the time; the press examples suggested that, when the AI built a house, it would base each wall on a different artist, the window frames from a fifth artist and the window panes from a sixth artist, whichever most suited the prompt, which lent credence to the argument the AI was learning to draw "like humans" do and picking a style from what it "liked" best. However, experience has demonstrated that, when possible, the AI will clone the whole house and at most do a palette swap To further my point, I used all the "tricks" I could think of in the creation of this image: I used vectors to fill even though I wasn't in a vector program, I took the wood texture out of Microsoft Office's texture library and deformed it using 3d transform tools, I downloaded the curtains from a royalty-free stock image website, and I probably would've used a custom brush for the fur if I had one already customized. I did not, however, use gradients or blur tools to shade because I really wanted to emphasize that ">60% hand made" quality. Several interesting things happened in the process. First, the slog of trying several prompts to get the image I wanted. It just so happened that I knew the image I wanted: something like this but grander, more sprawling. I never input the artist's name into the prompt, though, nor described that particular scene; I wanted the AI generic, bland style, but I came to the conclusion that AI "tools" are precisely for people who don't know what they want, not because they're indecisive, but because they just don't know a lot of artists. Second, I got a commission (hasn't been posted anywhere yet) where I had to draw a sprawling city, and discovered that, even when trying to make buildings the most snow-clone possible, there's still a lot of work and thought and effort that goes into each one of those little boxes, which in turn can make it fun, which brings to mind the argument that people who use AI art generation miss the "point" of making art. I have not (let me say that again: I have not) included the AI-generated portion in this image for considering it in bad taste now, but you can still go see the original, (which even has a time-lapse!)

Posted using PostyBirb

[imkadetcg]

10 Underrated Pokémon Cards

I got into the Pokémon Trading Card game during the pandemic and I’ve been playing since a little before Fusion Strike released in the Sword & Shield era of Pokémon cards. I love the game and am overall excited for the upcoming rotation. The standard format rotation for the game has been delayed to early 2023. In which we’ll be losing some current staples in the game like Marnie, Scoop-Up Net, a lot of Special Energies, and the entire Inteleon Engine that was a necessity for most decks to work. So, I thought I’d suggest some cards that aren’t rotating that I think a lot of people are really sleeping on.

1. Caitlin (Chilling Reign)

So with Marnie rotating out we need a new draw support to fall back on. Now Serena, Professor’s Research, and Colress’s Experiment t are all strong draw cards, but they also discard or send cards to the Lost Zone. There’s also Judge, but that randomly shuffles cards into your deck whereas Caitlin puts them in any orrder you want on the bottom which synergism’s perfectly with the Expedition Uniform (Chilling Reign) item card, but even without that Caitlin works great. You can put basic energy back in before you Mirage Gate if you’re running a Lost Zone engine and put special energy back for Archeops to attach in Lugia builds.

2. Alolan Vulpix Vstar (Silver Tempest)

Not only do a lot of decks run V’s all meta decks have attackers with abilities. Here’s a few: Arceus Vstar, Lugia Vstar, Regigigas, Regidrago Vstar, Palkia Vstar, Kyurem Vstar, Radiant Charizard, Radiant Greninja, Cramorant, Hisuian Zoroark Vstar, etcetera. A lot of those are Vstar abilities but it still works. Make sure you don’t run Path to the Peak though or that benefit goes away. Then there’s Vulpix’s own Silvery Snow Star that blasts a lot of boyos out of the game under the right circumstances and in matches against single prize decks Snow Mirage’s 160 damage is usually more than enough. This card may also get hurt by rotation with ex’s coming back, but I think there’s plenty of unseen possibilities for before and after.

3. Professor Burnett (Promo)

This promo supporter came in every V-Union deck and has been mostl my ignored because people don’t want to lose their supporter play for the turn. That makes a lot of sense and I can’t see a build that runs more than one of these cards, but for decks like Lugia Vstar, Regigigas, and Zoroark Box there’s often a turn where you need stuff in the discard to operate the deck and this is the card that’ll get those two Aurora Energy, Archeops, or Stage 1 evolutions there. Hopefully there’s more special energy post rotation because I won a Team Challenge qualifier with Regigigas thanks in part to this card and would love to keep playing the deck.

4. Gift Energy (Lost Origin)

If you’re running a deck with special energy, like Lugia Vstar, Regigigas, or an out of nowhere Omastar V with Archeops build use this. It’s also good for when you have a small hand and is a solid replacement for when Capture Energy rotates.

5. Camping Gear (Battle Styles)

There are so many attacks and abilities where you go into your deck to a card to end your turn or where you can’t do anything until you draw a certain card. Use Camping Gear to get that card instead. Yeah it ends your turn and you Rick losing the card you need to hand disruption, but it’s a better certainty than just drawing the card.

6. Cross-Reciever (Fusion Strike)

Yeah you have to play two at a time and they feels clunky, but if Cross-Switcher can balance in a deck so can these. Think of all those times you needed a clutch supporter and it’s in your discard and tell me these cards aren’t worth the space in your deck. If nothing else they’re good discard and lost zone fodder when they don’t work.

7. Groudon (Celebrations)

I think the whole Celebrations special set is slept on, but after seeing Kyogre wreck Lugia Vstar’s at LAIC I couldn’t help but think of this card. Would he fit in Lost Box, I don’t know, but you could pull off that endgame Energy Recycler play with Groudon’s Magma Volcano Attack taking out whatever anything in the Meta with all five.

8. Thorton (Lost Origin)

Now I’ve seen and used this in Regigigas, but I do t think players understand what they’ve got here. This is a safety net to get rid of the Crobat V and Lumineon V’s on your bench. A way to bring back a Pokémon and I’m pretty sure evolve them if the card you’re replacing a card that has been there more than one turn. I usually use Lumineon V’s Luminous Sign ability in the late game to get it out and replace it with the attacker needed in the discard.

9. Grotle (Brilliant Stars)

There aren’t a lot of strong Grass Pokémon decks right now, but this engine is peak for any Grass Pokémon right now. One Grotle can set off a cascade of Grass Pokémon and Torterra’s can hit for 300 damage at max output. Is there a great deck for this card yet? No, but don’t stop watching the grass turtles yet.

10. Boost Shake (Evolving Skies)

Evolve on turn one. That’s all you need to do. You can just evolve on turn one. Do everything else you need for set up then evolve on turn one. Then discard or use as needed for the rest of the game