#ehh whatever.

[servingliesarch]

anyway, i couldn’t do this scene justice so i’m posting the video of it. morgana’s part is great too, but i just want to focus on arthur here, and remember, this? is the episode three of season one. look at what arthur thinks, what he says, and keep in min he’s still largely influenced and focused mostly on making his father proud. but he stands up to it, he says things that should have prompted his character development further down this road, and yet the laws never change during his life, and especially rule as the king ?? the pendragons literally banded together against uther’s bs for the first two seasons, and the way this show was written in later seasons is just ridiculous.

[sadophilia]

I'm not touching whatever the fuck happened to me after the episode because that's not the first time I went from angry and destructive and obsessed with mutilating myself to literally feeling anachronistic detachment and fear and feeling like my brain has 'kicked down' like that. Oh well.

[3000-200-grains-of-salt]

jimmy and tango were always gold.

there was gold laced through his feathers, and gold scorched into his eyes, and it seemed unfair that the only ones who could bear to look were each other.

wheat ripened, gold in the pastures. gold fields soaked up the light. two warm bodies watched the sun melt into rivers of the stuff that trickled through the crops.

the string that bound them was gold; never green but fragile, dangerous gold.

and when they kissed for the first time, their whole world turned shining; into that decadant, fleeting gold. and when they held hands, their fingers melded together, glazed over with gold fire that crawled up their veins and gilded them. and when their eyes met, everything shone, and everything turned that perfect shade of gold- molten, blazing gold against black, against grey and red; glowing, spitting, crackling on wood grain. they learned to live in it, to wade through it. to memorize it.

jimmy and tango were nothing but gold- fiery gold.

but we've all read the book.

we've all read the tragedy.

we've all grown somber at crimson and gunmetal, chocolate cake and grape jelly all bleeding into one in a fountain, all coughing up smoke together.

we've all mourned as gold turned to grey.

we all know that nothing gold can stay.

[otterknowbynow]

my plan to relearn crocheting and make hats got derailed, by the way, because I found a couple skeins of really ugly yarn I didn't know I had so instead I'm making a baby blanket to get rid of them

[glovesnstuds-blog]

That post ain’t showin’ the full thing unless it’s on my blog.

[platos-tripartite]

I need new friends

Fuck this..