#and also arguing

[misslisamiray]

Here's Chapter 12 of Down With the Rickness - we're only a few chapters away from the ending now and I am NOT ready. I just love sharing this fic with all of you so much, and I'll be sad when it's over.

Anyway, this is (mostly) another chapter of just Rick and Morty, but there's one brief appearance by Jerry. New chapter below the cut!

“Mom’s gonna be late.” Morty informed Rick, who nodded, rubbing his throat again.

“Ugh. Morty, remind me to stop including tonsils in any and all future clones. They just sit there doing nothing 99% of the time, then get all inflamed and painful the few times a decade I get sick. Talk about a design flaw. It’s *Cough!* *Cough!* like the little pick-me ass bitches are mad at me for typically forgetting they exist. Ow. Also, remind me to remove these the second I feel up to it.” he complained.

“Uh-huh. I promise I will.” Morty agreed, trying to decide if it was a good or bad sign that Rick was talking about removing his own tonsils when he felt better, as opposed to right this second.

“You planning to stay up for a while?” he asked, getting another nod as an answer.

“Okay, well, it’s lunchtime. Did you want to try eating a sandwich or something?” Rick gave him a look that was meant to be angry, but came across more pitiful.

“Fine, I’ll just bring you more ice cream.” Morty gave in.

“Thanks. Oh, and Morty? I’m kinda *Cough!* empty here. Think you can help me out, buddy?” Rick asked, shaking his empty flask.

“No way. You’ve had plenty already. I’m not gonna get into a whole thing with you about how much you drink normally, but you’re way too sick for it today.” Morty refused.

“Pick a lane, Morty. I can’t be *Cough!* ‘too sick to drink’ and ‘not sick enough to cure using one of my supposedly crazy experiments’ at the same time.” Rick pouted, putting the trash can and tissue box aside to put his labcoat back on and retrieve the blankets from the floor again.

“Yes, you can. Both of those things can be true, Rick. And they are. You’re not guilting me into refilling your damn flask. I’m bringing you more juice.” Morty told him, starting to leave the room.

“But *Achoo!* my throat hurts. And my head hurts. And I’m cold again. It’ll help with at least one of those things.” Rick whined, throwing his head back dramatically and putting his feet up on the coffee table. He snuck a glance at Morty to see if this was working at all.

“No. It’s probably why your head hurts in the first place. Or at least one of the reasons. As for the rest, I don’t see how it’s supposed to help…” Morty made the mistake of looking over at Rick, seeing again how disheveled and miserable he looked. And asking for more booze, while not a good idea, was tame compared to every other idea Rick had come up with today…

“Okay, I’ll make a deal with you. I still refuse to bring you any of the stronger shit you keep in the garage. But I’m pretty sure there’s sofa wine left, and if you drink it, I won’t tell Summer it was you. I should since she’s mad at you anyway, but I won’t. Deal?” Morty compromised.

“Fair enough.” Rick agreed. With an annoyed sigh, Morty went to the kitchen to get lunch for the two of them. 

Rick felt around under a cushion until he found the half empty bottle of wine. The overly colorful, badly designed label had silhouettes of about a dozen dancing figures, all in obnoxiously bright colors, in front of a disco ball. It looked as much like something teenagers would sneak as this particular bottle was. He unscrewed the cap and took a tentative sip.

“Eww. How long have we all been sitting on this shit? I doubt it was great to begin with, but it’s definitely seen better days.” Rick complained to himself. He looked the ugly label over again and saw the alcohol content: 7%.

“Ugh. It’s terrible and weak as hell? One or the other I can deal with, but this is just awful. *Cough!* Dammit, Summer. I would’ve expected better from you.” Rick took another sip and shuddered. He recapped the bottle and started to put it back, then reconsidered. This stuff was giving the cold medicine a run for its money in terms of what tasted worse… but the warm liquid sliding down his throat did feel sort of nice. Soothing, even. It didn’t burn like the liquor he would have preferred to be drinking would. And sure, the alcohol content was a joke, but it’s not like he was starting from sober…

“Fuck it. Beggars can’t be choosers and all.” Rick muttered, deciding to drink more of the sofa wine.

Meanwhile, Jerry was sulking in his mancave. He turned the Sailor Moon tape over in his hand repeatedly and sighed. Finally deciding to put it down, he checked his phone to see if either of the Beths had replied to any of his texts. Neither one had. Jerry frowned and sat there for a few minutes, looking even more dejected and forlorn. Then he thought of some more messages to send, and immediately proceeded to do that. 

Another thing Morty became aware of throughout the day was that, besides not sleeping well when ill, Rick also rarely seemed able to get comfortable for more than a few minutes at a time. The tossing and turning was just as bad, if not worse, when the man was awake than when he was sleeping. When he was lying with his head at the opposite end of the couch, Morty kept getting kicked, usually in the back of the head. If Rick was lying with his head at the end of the couch where Morty was sitting, that meant more getting coughed and sneezed on, and sometimes being hit by a bony elbow or shoulder.

When he wasn’t sprawled across the couch (and Morty), Rick would try to sleep sitting at the opposite end of it, usually with at least two pillows under his head. Apparently, this helped with the postnasal drip, but sleeping like that hurt his back. Morty had to stop himself from pointing out that Rick fell asleep sitting on the couch all the time and didn’t usually complain about that afterwards.

Then of course, there was the temperature issue. Rick alternated between freezing and not being able to get enough blankets, his thin frame shaking despite all the layers… and the exact opposite, tossing all the blankets aside as quickly as he could, complaining that the thermostat must be broken. He kept going from one extreme to the other, with very little middle ground.

During the few moments of calm when Rick slept, or at least had settled down temporarily, Morty kept looking at things on his phone and scribbling down notes from what he read. As the day went on, what he was looking at progressed from benign things like the debate on whether or not vitamin C did anything for a cold and memes about watching game shows while home sick, to distinguishing colds from more serious illnesses. And from there to complications of those more serious illnesses, and how they could be worse and more likely in someone older…

While Rick seemed to be sleeping soundly enough, Morty decided to risk sneaking upstairs to grab his laptop. His phone was nearly dead, and besides, he was tired of staring at that small screen (and Rick sometimes kicking the phone out of his hand). He came back downstairs about 10 minutes later to discover Rick awake and glaring at him. The tissue shoved up his right nostril undercut how furious he looked, but only slightly.

“Morty…”

“What? I wasn’t gone long, and you’re the one who wants me to leave you alone all together. If you’re mad again because I won’t bring you more booze, too bad.” Morty said, trying to figure out what the newest problem was.

“Where’s my portal gun, Morty?” Shit. Morty gulped, but quickly tried to act nonchalant and lie his way out of this.

“You mean you don’t have it? Aw geez, Rick. I don’t, don’t know anything about that. You probably dropped it in the garage earlier and didn’t notice. You have been pretty out of it today.” Rick considered this. He hated to admit it, but that was possible. After all, he still hadn’t figured out why there’d been a shoe in his pocket earlier. But Morty was clearly more anxious than usual, and it was a dead giveaway he was hiding something.

“Uh-huh. Can’t argue with *COUGH!* that. So how about you help me find it?”

“Maybe later. You need to get some more rest, and what’s it matter where your portal gun is when you’re in no condition to use it?”

“I’m not going to use it. Just getting up from this couch to go look for the thing sounds like a huge pain in the ass – forget about going to another dimension. But it’s mine and I want it. Besides, *Cough!* *Cough!* if I’m not going to use it, what does it matter if I have it?” 

Morty couldn’t think of a reply, and for the second time that day, Rick found himself locked in a staring contest with one of his grandchildren. Also for the second time that day, he lost when he sneezed.

“Ugh. Dammit, I hate this. At least it’s almost over. I mean, it has to be – I’ve been sick for days.” he complained weakly after blowing his nose.

“I hate to break this to you, Rick, but it’s only been a day. More like half of one, actually.” Morty informed him, feeling another wave of sympathy and worry. He plugged his laptop in, plugged his phone into it, and sat down next to Rick again.

“That’s not funny, Morty.” Rick told him pitifully.

“I know it’s not. But I also wasn’t joking. Sorry, Rick.” Morty apologized. Rick grabbed the nearest pillow and screamed into it.

“Stop that. You’ll just make your throat hurt worse, and for what? Throwing a tantrum isn’t going to help anything.” Morty told him, patting his arm.

“You don’t know that it *SNIFF!* won’t.” Rick argued, still talking into the pillow. Realizing how pathetic that sounded, he tossed it aside and slumped against Morty, resting his head on his shoulder.

 “But… probably not. *YAWN!*” he admitted.

“Aww, come on, Rick. Don’t fall asleep on me. I’m covered in your germs as it is. Move.” Morty protested, trying to nudge Rick off him.

“You gonna tell me where my portal gun is?” Rick asked, struggling to stay awake.

“Nope. You say you aren’t going to use it, but I have zero reason to believe you.”

“Fine. Then I’m not moving.”

“If you fall on the floor, I’m leaving you there.” 

Still trying unsuccessfully to make Rick move, Morty was surprised there was no sarcastic response or further argument. He turned his head slightly and saw it was because Rick had fallen asleep. With a sigh, Morty tried one last time to nudge Rick off his shoulder. When it didn’t work, he resigned himself to being used as a pillow for a while. He turned on the laptop and went back to his questionable research. Another episode of the fishing show came on. This time, the man who looked like Gene with a beard was listing facts about salmon.

While Rick had slept half an hour at most any other time during the day, of course, now it seemed like he was going to be out for much longer.

“How is this the one position you’ve managed to get comfortable in all day?” Morty asked, feeling some drool drip onto his shoulder. Besides being awkwardly slumped against Morty, Rick had one leg draped over the back of the couch, and the other dangling off the front of it. It was surprising he hadn’t fallen yet. Having given up on getting Rick to move, Morty decided to see if he could slip free without disturbing him. He put his laptop aside and tried to stand up… only to realize that Rick had grabbed onto his arm at some point without him noticing.

“C’mon, really?” Morty whispered, carefully trying to free his arm. Rick groaned and coughed a few times.

“Shit! Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” Morty apologized.

Either ignoring or not hearing him, Rick sat up a little straighter and took a half asleep look around the room. He pulled his blanket pile up to his chest, then immediately rested his head on Morty’s shoulder again. He also tightened his hold on the boy’s arm.“Fine, I give up. At least you’re not trying to ‘fix’ this with something that could kill us, and you’re finally getting some sleep. You win. *YAWN!*” Morty gave in, accepting that he wasn’t getting up any time soon. He suddenly realized how tired he was, too. The sounds of the rain, the boring TV show, and of course, Rick’s snoring, weren’t helping. Morty looked back and forth between what he’d been reading on his computer, and Rick sleeping up against him. He debated whether it was alright for him to take a nap, too. After a few minutes of just watching Rick, who appeared to be sleeping soundly, Morty closed his eyes. Within a minute, he was also fast asleep.

[chanafehs]

Happy pride month everyone! Yearly reminder that pinkwashers should be ostracized from lgbt spaces and have no place amongst us, fascism is still fascism even if you put a rainbow in front of it. If you care about Palestinian queers, stop making excuses for genocide.

[hinamie]

trick or treat!

[sorrelpaws]

really obsessed with the "momentarily left alone with my best friends other best friend" vibe they gave off here

[frownyalfred]

actually the new superbat “this isn’t you 🥺” trope for when Clark goes evil should be Bruce putting his hand over Clark’s sparking/glowing eyes that are about to fire and closing them, entirely trusting that Clark won’t melt his hand off. and then Clark leans into the touch and lets the anger/magic/etc go as the heat sinks back into the capillaries around his eyes and dissipates.

[inkskinned]

i have chronic pain. i am neurodivergent. i understand - deeply - the allure of a "quick fix" like AI. i also just grew up in a different time. we have been warned about this.

15 entire years ago i heard about this. in my forensics class in high school, we watched a documentary about how AI-based "crime solving" software was inevitably biased against people of color.

my teacher stressed that AI is like a book: when someone writes it, some part of the author will remain within the result. the internet existed but not as loudly at that point - we didn't know that AI would be able to teach itself off already-biased Reddit threads. i googled it: yes, this bias is still happening. yes, it's just as bad if not worse.

i can't actually stop you. if you wanna use ChatGPT to slide through your classes, that's on you. it's your money and it's your time. you will spend none of it thinking, you will learn nothing, and, in college, you will piss away hundreds of thousands of dollars. you will stand at the podium having done nothing, accomplished nothing. a cold and bitter pyrrhic victory.

i'm not even sure students actually read the essays or summaries or emails they have ChatGPT pump out. i think it just flows over them and they use the first answer they get. my brother teaches engineering - he recently got fifty-three copies of almost-the-exact-same lab reports. no one had even changed the wording.

and yes: AI itself (as a concept and practice) isn't always evil. there's AI that can help detect cancer, for example. and yet: when i ask my students if they'd be okay with a doctor that learned from AI, many of them balk. it is one thing if they don't read their engineering textbook or if they don't write the critical-thinking essay. it's another when it starts to affect them. they know it's wrong for AI to broad-spectrum deny insurance claims, but they swear their use of AI is different.

there's a strange desire to sort of divorce real-world AI malpractice over "personal use". for example, is it moral to use AI to write your cover letters? cover letters are essentially only templates, and besides: AI is going to be reading your job app, so isn't it kind of fair?

i recently found out that people use AI as a romantic or sexual partner. it seems like teenagers particularly enjoy this connection, and this is one of those "sticky" moments as a teacher. honestly - you can roast me for this - but if it was an actually-safe AI, i think teenagers exploring their sexuality with a fake partner is amazing. it prevents them from making permanent mistakes, it can teach them about their bodies and their desires, and it can help their confidence. but the problem is that it's not safe. there isn't a well-educated, sensitive AI specifically to help teens explore their hormones. it's just internet-fed cycle. who knows what they're learning. who knows what misinformation they're getting.

the most common pushback i get involves therapy. none of us have access to the therapist of our dreams - it's expensive, elusive, and involves an annoying amount of insurance claims. someone once asked me: are you going to be mad when AI saves someone's life?

therapists are not just trained on the book, they're trained on patient management and helping you see things you don't see yourself. part of it will involve discomfort. i don't know that AI is ever going to be able to analyze the words you feed it and answer with a mind towards the "whole person" writing those words. but also - if it keeps/kept you alive, i'm not a purist. i've done terrible things to myself when i was at rock bottom. in an emergency, we kind of forgive the seatbelt for leaving bruises. it's just that chat shouldn't be your only form of self-care and recovery.

and i worry that the influence chat has is expanding. more and more i see people use chat for the smallest, most easily-navigated situations. and i can't like, make you worry about that in your own life. i often think about how easy it was for social media to take over all my time - how i can't have a tiktok because i spend hours on it. i don't want that to happen with chat. i want to enjoy thinking. i want to enjoy writing. i want to be here. i've already really been struggling to put the phone down. this feels like another way to get you to pick the phone up.

the other day, i was frustrated by a book i was reading. it's far in the series and is about a character i resent. i googled if i had to read it, or if it was one of those "in between" books that don't actually affect the plot (you know, one of those ".5" books). someone said something that really stuck with me - theoretically you're reading this series for enjoyment, so while you don't actually have to read it, one would assume you want to read it.

i am watching a generation of people learn they don't have to read the thing in their hand. and it is kind of a strange sort of doom that comes over me: i read because it's genuinely fun. i learn because even though it's hard, it feels good. i try because it makes me happy to try. and i'm watching a generation of people all lay down and say: but i don't want to try.

[pineapple-frenzy]

Book 2 au with Zuko and Katara Lee and Huamei

Katara is separated from her friends, and so she's left to travel the earth kingdom on her own. She stumbles across Zuko, who is similarly travelling on his own. They decide that pairing up and travelling together would be best

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

main take aways from Halloween (1978) rewatch:

michael myers is canonically 21??? this bitch should be at the club

*sees tiddies* ***MURDEROUS RAMPAGE NOISES***

that's it that's the movie

outside of the fact that everyone who has sex is murdered by the narrative, this is a surprisingly chill portrayal of female sexuality? these teen girls are horny and actively enjoying Getting It On with their boytoys. no pushy boyfriends sneaking in through their bedroom windows--these ladies are taking the initiative to sneak out and GET SOME. one of them gets laid and then immediately orders her boyfriend to get her a beer. (yes she gets Slashered soon afterward, but so does the boyfriend so honestly, gender equality.) yes the Final Girl is the only one not having sex, but she's not bullied for that, nor are her friends slut shamed except possibly by being murdered by the narrative

actually the only character who is shown being morally condemned on-screen is michael myers. specifically FOR his violent overreaction to other people's sex lives. (people he is spying on). metaphorically, the villain is American Puritanism sticking its judgy nose into other people's business.

aka Michael Myers Is A Republican

but actually the real villain is the doctor. guy's a judgemental, shaming, pathologizing asshole. and he's been in charge of michael's care since he was SIX YEARS OLD? kid never had a chance. i'd go on a killing spree too

also the parents. where are the parents? it's halloween night and all the teenage girls are home babysitting their younger siblings? come to think of it, michael's first victim was his own older sister, whom he killed while she was babysitting him. teen girls are really shouldering a labour burden here. maybe parentification is the true villain

side note: mike commits his first murder wearing a clown costume...which is never referenced again? his 'iconic' costume is a generic mask and wig and jumpsuit, when we coulda had a Killer Clown Michael Myers??? travesty

i like how the Final Girl and her friend casually smoke weed in her car. yeah she's an honor student and her friend is the sheriff's daughter. yeah they smoke weed. so what it's 1978

(to reiterate, mike is 21 and should be at the club. im not saying he shouldn't be rampaging, im saying it's sad that he broke out, tasted freedom for the first time in his life, and immediately snuck back into his childhood home to go rampaging. let's have a remake where he goes to a nightclub and has a few beers. maybe some slutty dancing. then rampage)

oh no he's hot

[nouverx]

*proceeds to drink the whole bottle*

Yeah Alastor you're gonna be loved and appreciated wether you want it or not :)

[shotmrmiller]

asking kyle if you've wronged ghost somehow because any time you glance up his way, his gaze is always on you and wherever you are, he's there too, his thigh a breath away from your hip. does he not trust you? your skills? yeah, you're a green boot but you know how to follow orders. know which way to aim your gun. (whenever you try to move away, attempting to keep a polite distance, ghost is quick to counter and step in that gap.)

kyle clarifies that ghost's not watching, he's marking. claiming. keeping you where you need to be- at his side, and nowhere else.

and yes, the others are aware. they all just know better than to say anything.

(your very first mission with us, ghost had sharply told you that you were to be with him. do ya not remember, doll?)

[fireflysugarpie]

I'm literally so obsessed with the fact that Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu married the most extreme versions of each other

like, I'm pretty sure that people have already brought this up, but Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe have the same, "I'm just a little guy, you wouldn't hurt a little guy, would you?" pathetic, pitiful, crybaby aura (even though Binghe is a lot more selective with it lol)

and Shen Qingqiu and Mobei-Jun are icy beauty, rich, dense, spoiled brats that both go insane over (1) pitiful hamster man (for different reasons, but still)

I feel like if they didn't fucking die and get transmigrated, they could've had a cute assholes to assholes but lovers arc :<

[treevore]

i love u characters who are victims who don't show things in a way that's appealing i love u characters whos trauma leaves them with anger issues, with violence issues, with issues with connection and trust and being truthful i love you characters who don't get "better" in a way that's palatable, who don't find growth and meaning in their trauma

[havenshereagain]

DPxDC Idea

Danny working at Wayne Enterprises as some sort of engineer, uses the in-house app for all his blueprints and stuff

He starts getting notes from a coworker in-app, and assumes its this annoying older guy in his department who constantly undermines him because of his age, despite his education and past achievements (i feel like in this AU the Fentons react well to the reveal and they work together on a number of non-lethal ecto inventions that have Danny's name attached to them)

Except one day his coworker mentions never using the app, and Danny suddenly realizes there's only one other TD he could've been arguing with in the notes of the app

[hinamie]

post-graduation trip airport looks

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Okay 3 things

1. I was thinking about an aroace Sonic who says things that can be taken as wildly flirty/romantic but he just means them genuinely. “You have beautiful eyes, I keep getting distracted while looking at them,” not cause he’s interested romantically in them but because eyes can be really cool and pretty man I dunno what to tell you he likes looking at cool things and he thinks his friends are neat. “You’re the most beautiful person here,” because he really thinks that, he loves his friends

2. Sonic randomly dropping heartfelt genuine comments on his friends out of the blue completely blindsiding them and then moves on like nothing happened while they’re left going ?????? Bonus points if he does something immensely stupid or jerkish just before or immediately afterwards and they can’t tell if he was serious or not with the compliment (yes he was)

3. Sonic usually being so allergic to truly vulnerable moments that when he expresses something heartfelt randomly Tails thinks he’s been stabbed or something and does not believe him when he reassures him that he’s fine he’s fine he’s not dying yeesh

[desultory-suggestions]

Stopping yourself mid-conflict to change your perspective is allowed! It’s okay and normal to be mid argument with someone and realize you disagree with your own stance. Often I find myself and others caught up in trying to win the argument (not the point of arguments!) or too embarrassed to back down and be wrong. I promise there is so much more pride in going “Stop! I’m wrong. I hear you and I see how I wasn’t in the right and I want to amend my view” than digging your heels in.