#[[ but well my Morty went for it ]]

[plumbogs]

bella and mortimer weren't super young parents to begin with to me. i feel like they both had careers and did crazy young rich people shit for a while. popping bottles on yachts and travelling around to explore the world. amassing a collection of Oddities. and finally had cassandra at like 30 at the earliest. bella's gotta be like mid 40s at the youngest. you can even go with 'she had some work done, she does botox' to get away with Looking younger and i guess i'd be able to follow that logic but it is still the coward's way out. let her be old!!!

[wormgrrl]

some beasts from my brain ♡

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Can you write a college roommate head cannon for miguel O’Hara ( 18+ f!reader)

ik you asked for HCs but I have no self control... my bad, anon!

College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: College Roommate!Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

summary: Miguel is your roommate. And he’s hot. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

warnings: 18+ as fuuuck. F-receiving oral, using toys, masturbation, voyeurism (-ish), grinding, praise, service dom (idk?) Miguel, recreational drug use (reader and Miggy smoke a blunt). Minors DNI

a/n: I am a firm believer that modern day Miguel listens to 90s rnb, back when men were men: unabashedly, unashamedly down so fucking bad for their partners. he just gives me those vibes!!

edit: I'm writing a full fic for this! Rigor Mortis, college au fic, read here.

wc: 6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm thinking you become roommates but he's your last choice. 

Very last minute: you have a big falling out with your now ex-boyfriend, and the plans for flatsharing next semester goes right out the window. 

So all the good places are taken, and you're going apartment-hunting, but everywhere's either too expensive, too dirty, or there's a predatory clause hidden in the lease: shitty landlords and blaring red flags in 9pt Times New Roman. 

When you stumble upon Miguel O'Hara; a student in private accomodation who, lucky you, is in need of a roommate; it feels like a godsend.

Rent is affordable and he's nice enough; refusing to grunt more than a few words to you, but is clean, organised, and from what you can tell, is barely in the apartment. 

You sign onto the lease, desperately, hoping you've just been lucky and trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

You give a thousand mile stare at the blank document in front of you. A bullshit paper due in exactly 12 hours. Yes, you left it until the final stretch, and yes, it's 10k words. Very doable. You're not fucked. Nope.

You blame it on the banging from next door. Paper thin walls; obscene noises. Cries of Yes Miguel and Just like that, daddy have been plaguing you for almost an hour. His stamina must be superhuman, the way the woman in his bed has been howling. Howling may seem extreme, but she sounds like a dying cat: cock drunk and babbling over Miguel O'Hara? 

Your new roommate had been nice enough. Quiet, unassuming, and seemed more than absorbed in his schoolwork. So you didn't expect him to unashamedly fuck the girl he's been tutoring for the past week. It all clicks. The "perfect roommate" turned out to have one teeny tiny little flaw: loud, obnoxious sex, well into the early hours of the morning. 

On autopilot, you're clicking through tabs on your bed. Perhaps you're a prude, but the sex noises are abrasive, excessive, to the point of parody. Persistent, Miguel's low voice reverberates in the walls of your bedroom; making heat pool at the base of your stomach. 

"You want it, hermosa? Tell me…. such a pretty girl… like that?" It's muffled, but his voice is unmistakable. Low, greedy, heavy with want. God, the last time someone's spoken to you like that was… 

You shake your head free of cobwebs. No. You're not rewarding him. You can't . Your roommate is shameless, and inconsiderate, and really fucking annoying . 

The smacking noises increase, coupled with banging on his side of the wall. Resolute, your face hardens. From where you perch on your bed, you slam the wall with the side of your fist. 

"O'Hara! Keep it the fuck down!" 

~~~

He's a biochem major, up to his ass in assignments and he still has time for societies, internships and tutoring. 

The only times he'd be in the apartment really was an impromptu session, and you didn't notice at first, but it became more obvious as the semester went on.

As a so-called tutor, he only seemed to pick the prettiest girls - they would twirl their hair on your kitchen counter and bat their pretty lashes at him when they didn't understand. Favours for a couple of friends, is his only response when you ask. 

It felt like you'd open the door to a new girl every week and you are baffled. Donned in makeup and short skirts, they'd waddle in asking for Miggy, or drop off half-finished assignments whilst craning their head through, trying to catch a glimpse of him. 

The absurdity would make you laugh if it wasn't affecting your sleep. 

Not that he's not absolutely gorgeous, but he's so quiet you would never have thought he had it in him: to have a revolving door of women lining up to lay underneath him. 

This time, her name is Sarah: pretty little thing in Miguel's Advanced Math class.�� She perches on a stool, wearing a tight dress that is wholly not appropriate for a tutoring session. She's one of his regulars, if you can call it that, and has been failing for at least 2 semesters. You flash her a smile as you pad through the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a snack. God, she is gorgeous; dolled up for another long session with Miguel, no doubt.

"Where's he gone?" She asks politely. 

You shrug. "I couldn't tell you, sorry."

"It's okay… I'm just a bit stuck." You almost snort and catch yourself. For some reason, you didn't think they actually did any work, merely a pretense for the… cardio later on in the day. 

You glance at her sheet of paper, scribbles in purple pen with large swathes crossed out. Leaning over, you scan the page.

"Right here." You point and she follows with a manicured finger. "You fucked up with this integral and I think… yeah, I think that messes with the whole thing."

Her eyes light up as she follows you, explaining with a piece of cookie hanging out of your mouth. She's definitely smart, just a few little mistakes here and there that you're happy to point out. Thanking you fervently, she rushes to correct it. 

"Ah, it's no problem. I get mixed up with it too." You smile and notice Miguel by the doorway, watching with a strange look in his face. You roll your eyes as you walk past. What a fucking weirdo. 

"Thought I was the tutor?" He croons.

You raise an eyebrow, voice low as Sarah is engrossed in her work. "...I don't want to fuck her, Miggy , if that's what you're worried about."

A little cruelly you push past him, shoulders clashing against one another. Is he smiling ? For now, you blame your perpetual tiredness when you think you catch the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 

~~~

You're a light sleeper, and it all makes for a tired, delirious combo. You sleepwalk through the day, scramble to finish assignments and whilst it's not all O'Hara's fault, you can't help but blame him for a lot of it. 

After you successfully get through one long week, you decide to celebrate. That means a couple hours of mindless hedonism: your favourite movie, greasy food…. and your trusty dildo. Not at the same time, of course. 

Miguel's not home, and he's not tearing down the walls with some other girl, for once, so you decide to treat yourself. 

You've been going through a dry patch, and you'd hate to admit it, but he does sound good through the thin drywall. 

It was a joke gift; given to you by a friend for your birthday. An obnoxiously purple dildo with a suction cup at its base. Aptly named Hugh, due to its - ahem - large stature. Standing tall at 7 or 8 inches, far bigger or thicker than any partner you've taken in the past. Sitting around a small diner booth with your friends and opening the bag to reveal him, had been quite the experience, for sure. 

It wasn't your fault you had gone through a dry spell in the past few months. With work, with school, with relationship issues, you hadn't had the time or energy to sleep around. Not that you were desperate for drunk, lackluster sex, followed by an awkward dance of ubers and shitty coffee in the morning. Like many, you preferred to do it yourself. 

Laptop open, you ease yourself onto the toy, already slick with lube. Prepping yourself with your fingers had been quite the task, tabs open to something on a lewd website. It's cheesy, but you didn't really like the bright lights and plastic of usual porn. The moans felt too fake, the sex devoid of any real passion. So you found a couple of independent creators; couples, mostly; carnal fucking with fervour only borne from real love . It's embarrassing to admit it, but your favourite parts are the little kisses and touches in between, or light laughter after a rough session. As if to say: it's okay and I'm still here. 

On your screen now is a longtime favourite video, a broad man bullying his fat cock into his partner. You can't help but think he looks like Miguel, not as pretty but tan with strapping shoulders, and large hands that wrap around the neck of the girl in the video. 

" F-Fuck," You breathe, sinking down onto your toy. You bet Miguel's palm on your throat would be deliciously rough, and you imagine how he'd fuck the brat out of you like the man on your screen. 

What hadn't occurred to you, however, was that the thin walls went both ways. Whilst you were quieter than many of the girls Miguel brought home, you were fairly shameless with the moans and curses that fell from your lips. Headphones on, you were blissfully unaware that Miguel had slipped into the apartment some time ago. The slap of your thighs to the floor, the desperate whine as you roll your hips over the toy - he can hear it all. 

Miguel has a conscience, so he does feel some amount of shame when he slips a hand down his trousers and presses an ear to your shared wall. He closes his eyes and bites down lusty groans, fisting his cock to your pretty noises. Noises he's been wanting to hear from you for months, now, imagining it was you underneath him instead of his usual partners. 

He times it just right, squeezing around his tip in time with the steady slap just beyond the wall. Are you fucking yourself? On your knees, hands flat on the floor, churning up your insides with a toy… or maybe ass up, dildo attached to something…? He almost cums with that mental image, wondering what you'd look like on your knees for him. Is the dildo as big as him? He knows you, knows you'd want it to hurt - for his cock to stretch out your pretty pussy when he cums deep inside you. 

All things he thinks about with a hand around his cock, and he's already close. But he wants to cum with you, listening intently for the signs. 

" Fuck," Your voice comes out muffled, but it makes him buck up into his fist all the same. " Need it… oh God, I-" 

He speeds up, wondering what it would be like to have your thighs shake underneath him, what it would take to have you babbling and begging for more. How would he break you? Maybe on his cock, where he'd watch you squirm as you take his length. Or on your knees, choking around him and licking up his cum. Or, God, thighs wrapped around his head, riding out your high with his mouth sealed on your clit, crying for him slow down, for him to-

" H-Harder, Miguel, please." 

He releases, sudden and intense, spilling white ropes into his boxers. 

" Fuck, Miguel…"

He fucks his fist through it, overstimulated from the way you say his name. It feels like the only way it should be said; spilling from your mouth, haphazard and desperate. Like honey, like treacle; sweet things he didn't know he had the capacity for. He lets that feeling wash over him, panting, bringing his forehead to rest on cool wall. 

~~~

He's hot. He's smart. He's a whore.

A total blindspot for you, and no matter how much you can't stand him; you still find yourself stealing glances whenever he's home. 

And he does seem to be home a lot more, often choosing to study on the dining table rather than his room. It's like he does it on purpose, using the warmer weather as an excuse to wear tiny tank tops and loose gray sweats - showing off the muscles of his broad back and arms perfectly.

Funnily enough, when he's not around those girls, he's bearable - seems to have grown a couple of brain cells in those short few days between sessions. 

You laugh and joke, sometimes, and he surprises you by suggesting a movie one quiet night. 

He offers you his sweater to snuggle into, you eat your weight in greasy takeout, and your roommate seems like an actually decent guy?? 

You had fallen into an easy routine: O'Hara leaves a flask of coffee for you to snatch up in the morning, hair damp from the shower and all, and you meet him with netflix and instant noodles in the evening. A push and pull that works in the little space - much smoother than your rocky beginnings.

After a truly shitty day, you come home to a quiet apartment. Almost sleeping through an exam, forgetting lunch, missing the bus home, and having to trek back through pouring rain in a thin coat. Everything that could go wrong, did, and you are left with the pieces. You trudge through the living room into the kitchen, the wet squelch of socks on laminate floor haunting every step. Shedding your limp outerwear, you lay the contents of your backpack onto the kitchen counter: clumps of loose paper, the damp leftovers of a textbook, bleeding ink. Your main concern, however, is your laptop slick with rain water. 

With baited breath, you put it on the slab, and press the power button. A click, a stuttering whir, and the screen flickers on. Then, just as strained, it putters off. Dead. Completely dead. Your legs almost give out, and you lean on the counter to steady yourself. Half of your life was there; including the final project that would make up a good chunk of your grade. It takes you everything not to collapse onto the floor right then and there. 

"How was it?" You hear the click of a door and Miguel calls out from the hallway. 

You wince."...F-Fine?" 

You hear footsteps, as he gets closer. "Are you asking or telling me?" 

You clear your throat, desperately trying to keep your voice steady. "Fine. It was fine. I'm just… it was fine."

Back still turned, you fumble around with the wet contents of your bag, hoping he doesn't notice. 

"Long day?" He says warmly, head poking into the kitchen. Haphazardly, you spare him a glance from behind your shoulder. He's dressed in a sweater that fits snug around his chest, rolled up to expose his forearms, and loose sweats. In his hands, he drinks from a cheesy mug - your mug, donning a stupid pun. He looks warm. Cosy. Domestic. For some, reason it makes your heart sink even further. 

Long day? "Something like that." You manage to squeeze out. There's a pregnant pause as he comes closer. Rummaging blindly through a cupboard, you try to hide behind its door. If he sees you like this, now, you don't know if you'll be able to hold it together. 

You close the door, and all of a sudden he's there, mug in hand. 

" Fuck, man- " It makes you jump, as he squints and takes a sip of his coffee. 

"You look… wet." 

"That's because it rained, Miguel." Snapping at him, your tone is biting. You're tired, stressed and in desperate need of a cry, but he is unrelenting in his gaze. 

"Are you ok?" He asks, unfazed. 

There's a lump in your throat and all you can do is nod with a tight expression.  His eyes flicker towards the counter and you shuffle, trying to cover up the mess. And then you watch it happen; initial confusion, a flash of realisation, and then worry; all in the space of a couple seconds. 

Gently, he pulls you aside to inspect the damage. "Mierda. This is pretty bad. You sure you're ok?" 

He's got a hand on your arm now,  The dam breaks and you crumple into tears in the kitchen floor. Of course, he comes with you, rubbing your back as you blubber through the details. 

" Nothing's going right for me… and I've got my final project on there… I'm barely keeping up as it is…" All he does is nod, face tight with something you can't quite name. It must seem pathetic to him, you think, shamelessly crying on the kitchen floor, complaining to your poor roommate. He can't leave you like this, because he's a decent person - but internally, he must think you're going crazy. 

It helps, having him there: a steady presence by your side. Slowly but surely, your tears subside. 

"You could've asked me to pick you up." He hands you some tissues off the counter, and watches as you mop up the tears. "I would've come, if you called."

"I didn't… I didn't think we were…" You search for the right word. 

"...friends?" He offers, with a small smile. "You think I let just anyone steal my sweaters?" 

"First of all," It makes you laugh, despite yourself. "You offered. And second, I've seen what you do with your friends, and I don't know if I have the energy for it."

"Ouch." Bashful, he rubs his chest like it aches. He sits a little close to you, knocking your shoulders with his own. "I know this girl who's crazy good with computers. I could ask her to take a look, if you'd like? Might not be able to save it but maybe we could recover the files?"

"...I'd like that, to be honest."

"Muy bien ." He leaps to his feet, palm stretched towards you to help you up. "I'll run you a warm bath or something. You're creating a puddle and it's going to ruin my floor."

"Our floor, asshole. I pay rent here, too." 

~~~

You find that you enjoy being around him, and he feels the same. 

You can't help but compare him to your shitty ex who you were planning to move in with: and even with his quirks, Miguel is better in every way. 

There is harmony in your household, for a while, and you almost look forward to coming home to him after class. Almost. 

It doesn't last long, because of course it doesn't. You'd thought you'd come to a tentative ceasefire, able to casually rib and joke with each other - takeout and B-roll movies aside. He leaves you leftovers from food he makes, you turn down your music when he's studying, and he even woke you up the other day when you had slept through your alarm.

Beyond the wall, his music is loud: a playlist you recognise as the one he puts on to (unsuccessfully) mask the noise of his usual late night adventures. Cheesy love ballads, heady RnB that leaks into your own room. You'd rather die than admit his taste in music isn't horrible, but it usually means a long, long night for everyone around. With finals around the corner, there's no way you can let this stand. 

What kind of person does that? Lull you into a false sense of security with Snakes on a Plane and pepperoni pizza? 

Absorbed in your own work, you hadn't even realised he had someone over; let alone was gearing up for obnoxious sex. You'd bang on the wall, but you feel like you guys are past that: crossed a threshold of intimacy that means you can shout at him up close and personal. 

So you stomp over to the hallway, banging at the door to his room. In the short trip there, you've worked yourself into a frenzy. How many times have you told him to keep it down? That it was rude and inconsiderate to flaunt his sex life in your face; to fuck other women so loud you were practically involved? There was something about the little smile he would give you afterwards, when you catch him shepherding his latest out the door in the morning - like he gets off on it, enjoys it, when you react. Even when you think you're over it, he still manages to drive you absolutely crazy. 

“Miguel? Open the fuck up!"

You're still fuming when the door opens with a click, and Miguel appears in the sliver of the doorway. He opens it so that his frame is half swallowed by the door, top half peeking through with a lazy hand in his hair. And of his top half, he's bare from the waist up, black band of his boxers sitting low on his v-line and loose sweats. 

All the wind is knocked from your sails, and you lose your train of thought. 

"Yeah?" 

"I…" You clear your throat. "I don't care who you fuck, but when I'm doing work-" 

"-I'm not." He chuckles. "There's no one here, hermosa. Just me. And you, I guess…"

There's something about the way he says it, lazily, as if it's his first time saying those words - wrapping his tongue around your name to see how it fits. If it fits, how it tastes. His relaxed posture, the way his hair falls…

"You're high." Your brow shoots up. "... you're high!" 

With a finger pressed to his lips, he grabs your hand and pulls you into his room, eyes darting around the hallway. 

"Shhh! You can't-" Now, he gets close, whispering like he's saying something he shouldn't. "You can't tell anyone. "

"I won't." You breathe. His face is serious at first, and then you're both giggling. You've never seen him so carefree, and it's nice to see Miguel walking around without the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He's still holding your hand, pressed close, and you see him drag his eyes up and down your figure. "You want do something you'll regret…?"

"...I've got a 9am, tomorrow, I really-" 

"-shouldn't?" He finishes, dragging his hand up your bare arm, pupils blown. He gets up to your shoulders, tucking your hair behind your ear. It's sinful, the way his touch is gentle but gaze heavy - violent in the way he practically eyefucks you. You feel bare, in little sleep shorts and a t-shirt.

He steps back, lounging on his bed, and makes for a half finished blunt by the adjacent window sill. Sighing, you sit by him, sinking into the mattress. He pats you closer, dangerously close, and you comply. One arm curled by your waist, the other brings the blunt up close and you wrap your lips around it. When Miguel brings a lighter to the blunt, you lean into it, knuckles brushing your lips. 

You take a drag, long, heavy, eyes closed. And when they open, you're met with his own. Maybe it's the weed, maybe it's the heady atmosphere, but you swear his eyes are low and deep with lust.

"Good girl." He rumbles, cupping your chin and tracing a thumb to your lips. He separates, bringin the blunt to his own lips before leaning back to pass it to you. As quick as he gets close, he pulls away; leaning back into the expanse of his large bed. And he looks good, head drawn back and the curve of his tan arm drawn upwards. Tufts of hair from his chest, the trail that leads down suggestively - and without inhibition, you basically drool over him. God, there it is. You feel it kick in and let it wash over you. 

His music, long forgotten, blends into your downy haze. You want to sit in his lap, rest your head on his chest. You get it now: if this is the view all those women he tutors get to have, then you finally understand. 

"Come closer, hermosa ." You barely register the nickname, only focused on the way he says it, the delicious way it rolls off of his tongue. You nod, and shuffle closer. His siren song sounds sweeter, somehow, up close. 

You pass the blunt between you both, and watch it dwindle to the last dregs. Lying down next to him, he clutches your hand and takes the butt between his fingers, letting its flames die as you watch. You giggle and his gaze softens.

"I didn't expect this from you." You look up to see an upside-down Miguel, hiding a smile. 

"Expect what?" He drags himself downwards, to rest his head by your side. 

"All…" You gesture vaguely. "This. Don't even think I've been in your room for this long, before."

His room looks exactly how you'd expect it: tidy and modest, a row of trophies neatly lined up on a shelf, a telescope pointing out towards a window. There are posters by his bed; science related, mostly. You tilt your head in the direction of one of them.

"Is this what they see?" You mumble to no one in particular. 

He manages to catch it, sluggish in his response. "...Is this what who sees?" 

"All the girls you fuck." It tumbles your of your mouth, before you can help it. 

He tilts his head too, looking at the poster and you watch the sharp lines of his jaw besides you. Even at this angle, he's so pretty. 

"Huh. I guess they do." 

"It's not very romantic, is it?" You blink, oblivious. Your question is met with a noncommittal shrug. "What was her name last time? Cassie, Clara-something…"

"Katie." He hums. 

"Katie." Ignoring the twinge of disappointment at his quick response, you hope it's the weed and not jealousy that made you pretend to forget her name. 

You sit up on your haunches, tracing the valleys and mountains of his bare chest with a leisurely finger. You try not to notice the way he shivers at your touch. 

"I could hear everything. Every, 'Yes daddy'," You feign a moan by curling your lips into an O-shape. You bring your other hand to your hair, head tilted back with exaggerated movement. "And 'right there, Miggy, right fuckin' there' ." 

Technically, you're making fun of him and laughing, expecting him to follow. But he doesn't, head back and eyes boring into you - only bringing a hand to press yours at his chest. 

"Thin walls, Miguel." You clear your throat, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Too far, probably. "Sorry, shit. I didn't mean-" 

"I hear you too." He says softly. "I heard you, the other day."

Head filled with cotton, it takes a moment for his words to really click. So he elaborates, lacing his fingers with your own. 

"Fucking yourself, hermosa ." He says it lazily, like the vulgarity of the act doesn't register.

Your eyes widen in horror. How much exactly did he hear?

"...and I heard you say my name." 

"It was…. i-it wasn't like that-" Fuck. You can't think straight as it is: and his voice is low and silky, rubbing circles on your hand close to his chest. Even now, he oozes confidence, the steady thump-thump of his heart giving away nothing. 

"Hmmm? Then what is it like?" You blink at him, unable to answer. "You're a hypocrite. You complain about all these women I supposedly fuck, but then-" 

He pulls you closer, so that your lips almost touch his. "-you lock yourself in your room, touching yourself and thinking about your poor roommate. What am I meant to do with you?"

A pause, and in your daze, you can't breathe. For all your theatrics, it's too easy for him - to prod and tease, and for you to chase after him. You move to kiss him, but he grabs your chin at the last second. "Not quite. I want to hear you say it."

"Fuck- " You crumple, hiding your head in the crook of his shoulder. Even in your haze, the nerves bubble up from the base of your stomach. "Fuck me, please , Miguel."

He places a hand on your thigh, leading you to straddle his middle, other hand wrapped around your waist. He grinds your lower half into his, leaning up to bring your lips together. 

He tastes sweet, greedily lapping up your moans in the clash. You're not thinking, not really, lost in the heat of his body, desperate and eager when you kiss. To contrast, Miguel cups your chin, pulling you away for air whenever you sink too deep. Somehow, he still manages to look smug, taunting you with a flash of his little fangs whenever you separate. If you weren't feeling the effects of that blunt, you may have had the means to be embarrassed at how much you want him - needily grinding against him and pawing at his chest. 

It's too slow, too leisurely, like a punishment; and he refuses to give you what he knows you want. Your whines betray you when he finally slips a hand down your shorts. 

"¿Paciencia, hmm?" He grabs a handful of your ass, clothed cock catching on your clit. It rips another moan from you, which he happily swallows with another kiss. "Patience, princesa."

You hump against one another like teenagers, your hands planted by his head for purchase. Hips moving of their own accord, you chase the relief Miguel provides: with his hands kneading your ass, length catching at your clit, and teeth nipping at your bare neck. 

He licks a stripe up your collarbone, soothing the blossoming hickeys with a hum. 

Fuck, how can he be so casual ? You don't know if it's the weed or something else, but he is in his element, hand dipping down your back to graze at your pussy from behind. He hisses when he realises how wet you are, swiping his fingers down your slit and taking them out to pop them in his mouth. 

Now, flushed and face hot with embarrassment, you look up at him with big doe eyes. It makes Miguel feel guilty for stopping you so close to your climax. Beautiful : lower lip hooked under your teeth, plump and swollen and kissable. He'll make up for it later: a promise he whispers into skin. 

"You're soaked." He cups your cheek to press a kiss to your forehead, and all you can do is whine. His gaze dips down, to the swell of your tits in that thin shirt.. 

"What did you think about when you touched yourself?" It's soft, said in the warm press of your bodies; hook-shaped and hazy and you fit like you were made for one another. The thought lingers, plants a dangerous seed that makes you forget that the man underneath you is your roommate : unrepentant whore, Miguel O'Hara. 

"You." You've seen it first hand, he eats hearts for breakfast; and yours is on a platter for him to devour.

He laughs, deep and rumbling, hands resting on your waist. "I know that, baby. You don't have fantasies? Fuck yourself to the thought of someone touchin' you just right?"

Not just someone, him, you think. Your voice dies in your throat at the way he looks at you. "Just… n-nothing really-"

He hums, grinding your hips onto his. "Speechless, I can't believe it. Is this what I need to do to get some fucking peace around here?" 

You roll your eyes, "Don't be a dick, Miguel. When I shout, it's because you deserve it."

"...there it is." Eyes shining, his face stretches into a shit-eating grin. Wide, unabashed, unambiguous. "You back with the living, sweetheart?" 

It makes you laugh, even though you hate to give him the satisfaction. 

"What do you want?" He kneads your thigh and pleasure pools at the base of your stomach. 

You mumble something begrudgingly.

"Hmm? Can't hear you, baby."

Louder, now. "...want to sit on your face, Miguel." 

Lowly, he groans, shaking his head. "Mierda… of course you do."

Expertly, he helps you take your shorts off, dragging the thin material down your thighs. You clambers upwards, wrapping them around his shoulders, watching intently as he kneads the soft skin. It's tentative, at first, and you place your hands on the headboard to perch just above his mouth. 

He licks, diving in with the flat of his tongue: a long upwards stroke that ends with him sucking your clit. Moaning, your hips jump and he chases your pretty pussy up, large palms pushing you back down. He concentrates on your bundle of nerves, lips around your clit like a man on a mission.

And, God, does it feel good; he watches and learns from your every movement, committing your body to memory. His moans vibrate deliciously, tension building at that spot faster than your mind can register it. Then, you clench around nothing, gushing into his mouth whilst he eases you through it. The noises he makes are obscene; one leg off the bed and a hand snaked under his boxers. He's getting off on it; watching you crumple and sob around his tongue. 

And when you begin to move off, thighs sore, he doesn't relent, sealing his mouth on your pretty little hole. 

"Miguel.. fuck-" After your first orgasm, it surprises you when he continues, tongue fucking you with fervour. He presses you close, impossibly close, and your body fights against his ministrations. Heat, everywhere, and it's too much. The haze of the blunt begins to wear off and you are left with biting clarity. You want more of him, deeper; drunk off of just his tongue. 

You card your hands in his hair, and he moans: deep and wanton, with his eyes fluttering shut. He wants to look, to watch you when you cum on his tongue for a second time. Back arched, the curve of your tits peeking through a tiny top, fucking yourself on his face. He wants it hard , wants you to take control and use him to get off. 

"Right there, fuck… "

Like you can hear his thoughts, you press yourself down harder, riding the deep ridge of his nose for relief. Miguel complies and leans into it. He eats you out like a man starved and the carnality of it all brings you to a second peak. You cum once again, legs wrapped tight around his face. Head back, he laps it up readily. 

You separate with a wet pop, and Miguel looks blissful : fucked out and panting, wiping the slick off of his face with a forearm. Exhausted, you lean back onto the mattress beside him. 

"That was…" He searches for the right word, and it's your turn to finish for him. 

"... good. " Scarily good. So good you won't be able to see him around the apartment without remembering what he looks like trapped between your thighs. 

Gently, he turns to cup your cheek and bring your lips to his. It starts off sweet and deepens rapidly, making that thread at the pit of your stomach tighten, again. He grabs your thigh, bringing it closer, and you feel his length poking your stomach. Fuck. 

"You haven't…?" Your hand makes for his trousers, and he stops you. "I want to, Miguel. Want you to feel good too."

His head sinks into your shoulder. "I know, baby, I know. Not like this. Not yet."

You nod, still wrapped up in his arms. You haven't even fucked, and it feels more intimate than it should. 

"You've got a 9am tomorrow." He smiles with a hand underneath his head. 

"I've got a 9am tomorrow," You repeat, sighing. "...and my life is falling apart. I'm failing half of my classes as it is."

He turns to you, lazily. 

"I could tutor you, if you'd like."

…

"That's not fucking funny, Miguel."

_

_

Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns @ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings

_

edit: the full fic xx

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie Morningstar, actual princess of hell, sitting very stiff and straight and awkward on the throne of hell during a Formal Thing, looking very Uncomfy about it... until....

Vaggie: "Are you guys all blind? She's gorgeous up there."

Angel Dust: "No surprises YOU'D like seein' her all stiff."

Vaggie: "Fuck off. She looks dignified. Formal-"

Alastor: "Tense?"

Niffty: "Like rigger mortis!"

Cherri Bomb: "Like she's sitting on TNT."

Angel Dust: "Stiffer than a porn star tryn'a pay rent."

Husk: "I can hear her fucking teeth grinding through that forced grin."

Vaggie: "Alright, she's a bit nervous sitting on the throne of hell for the first time, filling in for the absent queen mom and the shut in king dad. So what."

Alastor: "It is becoming SLIGHTLY detrimental, ha ha!"

Vaggie: "You told her to sit still up there and look pretty. Look. She's sitting. She's pretty."

Angel Dust: "You're gay."

Vaggie: "Hi gay I'm her girlfriend."

Husk: (snorts)

Alastor: "I'm SURE she is ALL those things, my dear-"

Vaggie: "Touch me and the sleeve comes off with your arm in it."

Husk: (SNIGGERS)

Alastor: "-but she IS mainly meant to be inspiring CONFIDENCE in her ability to run hell as it's de-facto ruler!"

Vaggie: "And?"

Alastor: "Well it WOULD be nice if she could make the symbolic at of sitting on the throne of hell, in full view of what is MEANT to be HER royal court, seem just a BIT more, hrmm... NATURAL~"

Vaggie: "What the fuck does that mean. She's princess of Hell. However she sits on the dumb chair is natural."

Angel Dust: "Toots, she's third in line ruler of all Pride, an' she looks..."

Niffty: "WRETCHED!"

Husk: "Fucking pitiful."

Alastor: "Once again I shall go with TENSE."

Vaggie: "You want her to relax up there?"

Alastor: "I would rather say, it is VITAL that she does so~!"

Cherri Bomb: "No sweat. Someone give me a drink and I'll slip her a chill pill."

Vaggie: "No."

Angel Dust: "NO!"

Niffty: "I could try giving her acupuncture!"

Angel Dust: "Cherri, we've TALKED about this-"

Husk: "You fucking know how?"

Cherri Bomb: "-don't be sucha stick in the mud, Angie."

Niffty: "You PUNCTURE!"

Angel Dust: "I ain't being a stick in the mud! You-"

Husk: "Unholy shit stop giggling and give me that fucking knife-"

Cherri Bomb: "Yeah, and I wasn't gonna get her royal highness high for real. Just something to take off the edge-"

Angel Dust: "She's got no history with that stuff! She'd be a KITE!"

Vaggie: "Someone hold my drink."

Husk: "-and where the fuck are YOU going?"

Vaggie: "Gonna go help my girlfriend."

Angel Dust: "Whoa whoa wait toots- ya supposed to be lying LOW here, Vagisaurus! Ex-exorcist bitch, remember? Lot's a people here who'd like to KILL ya???"

Vaggie: "If anyone's pissed enough to run up the dais steps and try murdering the princess of hell's partner right in front of her then they deserve to get at least one hit on me. You guys have fun, stick together, don't get killed."

Husk: "Take your own fucking advice-"

Angel Dust: "-aaaand she's took off, right in front of EVERYBODY oh that's just GREAT."

Niffty: "Alastor? Do you want her to die..?"

Alastor: "Right now, dearest? Well! If it helps our princess put on more of a royal bearing, then I fail to see why she shouldn't!"

Cherri Bomb: "Dude."

-

Charlie: "-eighty-three million ducks on the wall, eighty-three million duuucks... take one down.... pass it around..."

Charlie: "-don't think about how easy mom made this look don't think about her seeing you up here and wondering where she went wrong and maybe she did and that's why she left don't think about it don't think-"

Charlie: "... eighty-two million nine-hundred and ninety-nine thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-nine ducks on the waaalllll-"

Vaggie: (swoops down) "Hey."

Charlie: "-oh thank HELL Vaggie! I was just getting-"

(gets smooched)

Charlie: "..."

Charlie: ".... hhh...hi..."

Vaggie: "This armrest taken?"

Charlie: "What armrest. Oh! The THRONE right um no I mean yes you can, or- or we could get you your own chair if you want-!"

Vaggie: "Thanks babe, this is good."

Charlie: "It's- it's close!"

Vaggie: "Nice being on eye level for once."

Charlie: "or kiss level."

Vaggie: "Hm?"

Charlie: "NO NOTHING. Ahem!" (using gf's thigh as armrest)

Charlie: "Sooo, how's the party going down there?"

Vaggie: "Typical. Niffty brought a knife."

Charlie: "A knife? Just one??"

Vaggie: "We'll see."

Charlie: "I... guess just a knife's not too bad-"

Vaggie: "Heavenly steel."

Charlie: "H- Did you confiscate-?"

Vaggie: "Husk's working on it. I had better things to do."

Charlie: "Oh." (drooping) "Better things right. Other things. Just checking in on me huh? Um, what is the other things that need doing?"

Vaggie: "Charlie."

Charlie: "Shoot did I forget something?"

Vaggie: "You didn't-"

Charlie: "Something IMPORTANT?"

Vaggie: "Sweetie, you're things."

Charlie: "My things??"

Vaggie: "The things are you."

Charlie: "I'M things? What things- OH I'M THE-"

Charlie: "-I'm the things that need doing."

Vaggie: "Do you?"

Charlie: "N-not in public!"

Vaggie: "Guess you'll have to wait, then."

Charlie: "..."

Charlie: "You know, these are the only times I ever wonder about you maybe being a liiiittle itty bit evil."

Vaggie: "Punishment to fit the sin, babe. I've been having to look at you all evening."

Charlie: "I was WONDERING why your wings were showing!"

Vaggie: "You bring it out in me."

Charlie: "HEHEHEHEH."

Vaggie: "So now we're just gonna have to suffer together for the rest of the night."

Charlie: "That phrasing isn't helping."

Vaggie: "You playing with the hem of my skirt isn't helping."

Charlie: "YOU'RE the one almost sitting on my LAP."

Vaggie: "Emphasis on almost."

Charlie: (sigh) "I wish you were sitting on my lap..."

Vaggie: "You're basically melting into mine now, so there's that."

Charlie: "Your fault." (pouts) "Evil temptress of cuddles denied."

Vaggie: "Hellishly cute seductress."

Charlie: "Distracting tease."

Vaggie: "Speaking of distracting, think the whole room's looking this way now."

Charlie: "Can't blame them. You're lovely, Vaggie."

Vaggie: "Charmer."

Charlie: "Beautiful~"

Random Sinner: (charges over) "Murdering EXORCIST! You-"

(FwooOOM HELLFIRE)

Demon Charlie: (SNARLS)

Random Sinner: "...."

Random Sinner: "..... your wings are.. very pretty."

Vaggie: "Thanks."

Demon Charlie: "ANY oThER WORDS?"

Random Sinner: "C-congratulations on the girlfriend, your highness!"

Charlie: (beaming) (sparkling) "Thank you!!"

Random Sinner: (slightly charred) (eases back into the crowd)

Vaggie: "...."

Charlie: "I know I know..." (huffs) "That was a bit-"

Vaggie: "Hot."

Charlie: "Oh hush." (smirks) (drapes herself over gf's lap again)

-

Alastor: "...Well!"

Angel Dust: "She sure ain't stiff anymore."

Alastor: "Quite so."

Husk: "She's fucking liquefying."

Alastor: "Hrmm..."

Angel Dust: "Liquid like lighter fluid. She ROASTED that guy."

Cherri Bomb: "Are we like, SURE no one slipped anything in her drink..?"

Niffty: "Do you see any DEAD BODIES around Vaggie!?"

Cherri Bomb: "Uh, no?"

Niffty: "Awww. Then no."

Husk: "My grip hasn't gone limp though- Niffty, stop trying to take back the fucking angel knife."

Niffty: "THERE AREN'T ANY CORPSES HERE AT LEAST LET ME HAVE THIS!!!"

Husk: "Fuck no! You'll make corpses!"

Niffty: "I KNOOOOW!!!"

Angel Dust: "Not tonight, Niff."

Niffty: (hanging limply off of knife handle) (sobbing)

Alastor: "Oh dearest don't CRY~" (pats niffty) "Come now- why don't we RELISH how the crowd shies back in FEAR from our DARLING hotel founder!"

Cherri Bomb: "Uhh, they might just be cringing back from all the glittery rainbows..?"

Niffty: (sniffling) "Cr- cringing's good..."

Husk: "She sure as fuck does look full of pride now."

Alastor: "Indeed! MOST satisfactory!"

Cherri Bomb: "Gay pride."

Angel Dust: "In her fucked up battle scarred heavenly wash out murder girlfriend who's giving her big soppy I'm-so-in-love looks."

Alastor: "Ah HA...! Close enough~"

[countlessrealities]

Morty nodded in agreement at his other self's words, managing to hold back the urge to swallow. He already knew that his nervousness would have prevented him from enjoying the sight, but that wouldn't matter as long as his counterpart would have a good time.

"Y-Yeah, you can't usually see them well b-because...you know. L-Light pollution and stuff," he replied, hoping that his comment wouldn't be taken in the wrong way. He wasn't trying to sound like a know-it-all, he only wanted to fill the silence before it got too awkward. "B-But, uh, here there isn't a lot of artificial light, s-so...it'll be really pretty, yeah."

Just as his counterpart would look prettier in the dim light of the stars, but that was a thought that he kept for himself. The last thing he needed now was more pressure and forcing out a compliment with obvious romantic implications would have lead to that.

Despite the anxiety constricting his chest, a little chuckle left his lips at the clumsy attempt at a bow. Geez, his counterpart should have no rights to be so cute, but he was and it made Morty's heart beat a little faster.

He stepped inside the cart first, taking a seat on one of the benches and hurrying to pat the spot next to him. A silent invitation for the other to take it. He couldn't have him sitting across from him. That would have made trying to kiss him even more awkward.

Soon enough, and perhaps too soon, the Ferris Wheel started to move, slowly bringing their cart further and further away from the ground. The lights of the stalls faded and so did the setting sun, leaving behind a trail of pink and orange shades that, however, were quickly swallowed by the night sky.

Morty allowed himself a moment to watch that show of colours, taking in a few steading breaths. Now or never. Do or die.

"Uh, h-hey, I wanted...There's..." He started to stammer out, not knowing what he wanted to say, let alone how. "I-I...We've...Y-You're a great friend an-and an even more amazing person an-and, uh, I..."

His voice trailed off. Why were words always so hard? What was clear was that he was going nowhere with his speech, so he had better act before he lost his courage.

"J-Just...if...D-Don't hate me," he breathed out, as quickly as he could, and the next moment he was gripping at his counterpart's hand and leaning forward.

In hindsight, throwing himself on the other probably hadn't been the best idea, but he managed, by some miracle, not to knock their foreheads together. Instead, his mouth ended up where he wanted, pressed against his counterpart's in a chaste but firm kiss.

Morty's eyes shut tightly as his heart pounded in his chest, excitement and fear of rejection mixing in his chest. Yet, he refused to acknowledge it, just as he ignored the way his palms were sweating and how dry his throat was.

All that mattered right now were the warmth of that body, so close to his own in a completely new way, and the softness of those lips.

It was obvious that Morty’s lighthearted comment was taken in a different way. All he could see was how cute his counterpart looked and completely ignored himself. And once again, he found himself wanting to be bold and say something that could reassure the other. Yet, his own nervousness held him back.

“Y-Yeah, let’s not, uh, show them,” He let out a hushed, awkward chuckle. “We, uh – i-it’s just for our eyes only,”

The picture situation was long forgotten in those next couple of minutes. When he realized that they were a lot closer to getting onto that Ferris Wheel. That sudden idea brought his heart to pump, beating against his chest.

If he got nervous being in close proximity to his counterpart in the photo booth, he didn’t even know how he would be inside the Ferris Wheel carts. The thought that he could ruin it all with one misunderstanding terrified him.

As he walked alongside his counterpart, he couldn’t help to be silent. Though, he didn’t notice that the other didn’t utter a single word either. He was too lost within his thoughts to process anything.

Those images that played through-out his head like a movie. Showing every single possible thing that could go wrong. From saying something bad to accidentally upsetting his counterpart. Oh shit, what would he even say to him? He should have prepared more conversational topics for this. Well, he could always make a joke, do something funny – or would that be too lame?

Amongst the anxiety induced thoughts, he found himself in line. His eyes scaled upwards to look at the giant attraction. The wheel slowly spun with the many passengers inside. Decorated with a fun array of orange, purple and green lights represent the Halloween spirit.

“Oh, uh, y-yeah, perfect timing,” He hadn’t noticed that his counterpart went off to talk to the operator of the ride. “It’s - i-it’s going to look really pretty, see- watching all of the stars, y-you know?”

If he had more courage, he could say something about how pretty they would be, just as how his counterpart was pretty. Though he bit back on that. He couldn’t afford to embarrass himself now.

Especially as the line grew shorter and shorter, eventually leading up to them being next in line. His eyes widened as the cart lowered down onto the boarding platform. It was their turn to get on and his nerves only built up from there.

“Uh, a-after you, PM.”

He tried to do a half bow, a romantic gesture in a way, but the way his body acted made him look a bit weird. Yet, he hoped that it translated well enough.

@countlessrealities

[bouncybongfairy]

Rickety-Rickety Wrecked

Rick Sanchez x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: After recently getting a job, the illusion that high school status quotes and popularity truly mean nothing. You've been re-evaluating things that once made you bubble with excitement like sneaking out and partying. That being said, your younger sister informs you that she's going to Summer Smith's house party. Starting to feel like a senior citizen, you tag along and encounter Rick Sanchez.

Word Count 3.0k+

(!This is a smut fanfic, you’ve been warned!)

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

As you walked out the doors of the nursing home you worked at. Your hand was lazily searching for the keys that were undoubtedly buried at the bottom of your bag. After opening the car door, you let your body fall into the driver’s seat. It wasn’t just being physically but mentally drained as well. Tossing your purse into the passenger side and start the car. It was Friday and you were excited to finally have an entire weekend off. You couldn’t remember the last time you had any time to yourself. Pulling into the driveway, you weren’t surprised to see that your mom’s car wasn’t home. She works nights but will take every double shift she can get her hands on. You dropped the purse on your bed and immediately went over to shower. Even though you’re a Med-Tech you still will help residents with toileting among other things. While waiting for the water to get hot, you let your dirty scrubs drop onto the floor.​​ The water was scorchingly perfect, you could feel your muscles loosening. Using your nails, you scrub your scalp almost moaning from how nice it felt. The smell of the ‘honey crisp apple’ scented candle was only adding to the relaxation. Unfortunately that all came to a halt when your younger sister barrelled into the bathroom and turned on the harsh fluorescent lights.

“Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!” you exclaimed. 

“Well sorry, you’re the one hogging the bathroom,” your sister remarked. 

“If you were patient and knocked I would have told you that I’m about to be done,” you said. 

“No time, Morty invited me to a party that Summer is throwing,” she said which made you throw the current open. 

“You’re going to Summer Smith’s party?” you questioned. 

“Yeah, I thought you were going to. Morty mentioned that Summer asked you. And plus I kinda already told my friend that you would give us a ride..” she said. 

“Girl what the fuck, why would I go to a party after working every day after school all week. Yeah she invited me but I wasn’t planning on going,” you huffed.

“Well, can you still take me?” she asked.

After you got out of the shower you thought about the fact that even your younger sister was going to be at this party. Even though you were still tired from school and the work week, you felt like staying home would just make you feel… pathetic. As soon as you got out of the shower you started getting ready. You haven’t done your makeup in so long that you almost forgot how to apply your lashes. You straightened your hair and threw on a jean mini skirt and a black long sleeve. It was weird looking in the mirror once you were all done up. You liked it though, it made you miss when you didn’t have to worry about work. When you went downstairs to see if your little sister was ready to go, she was equally as shocked at your appearance. After her friend arrived you guys took off to the Smith house. The entire house was completely lit up with lights, teens that were smoking on the roof, and of course, unknown species of life that were slithering and flying around. Your sister pestered you for 20 bucks then ditched you. You entered the house and immediately got greeted by the smell of weed and tobacco. It didn’t bother you too much though, you walked into the living room and immediately saw your old group of friends. They all screamed and ran over to give you a hug. You could tell they were all a little intoxicated. 

“What are you doing here, we had no idea you were coming!” Maya said. 

“Yeah I had the weekend off so I thought I’d come out,” you said. 

“Ever since you started working, I feel like I haven’t seen you in like forever,” Anna said. 

“Yeah I know, but it’s nice being able to save money. Especially because I could take some of that responsibility off my mom,” you said. 

“Don’t you miss going out though? You were literally about to get asked out by Brad. I mean like, you practically lost your status when it comes to school,” Maya said in a condescending way.

“If my status was based purely on me going to parties and hanging out with girls who are pretending to be drunk then I don’t think I want it. Too obtainable for someone like me, sounds perfect for you though,” you said, giving her a warm smile as you watched her smirk fade from her face. 

Now you remember why you stopped going to house parties like this. As you walked around you couldn’t help but notice all the sophomoric conversations going on. Things like bragging about having a roach from their dad’s ashtray. Or boasting about getting to second base with their girl. Honestly, it made you feel a lot older than you are. Making your way into the kitchen, you saw Summer standing there with Trisha. They both greeted you and complemented how you looked, which really lifted your confidence.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, stranger,” Summer said, giving you a red solo cup filled with an unknown liquid. 

“Girl you know I started working,” you said, smelling the cup and trying to identify what type of liquor it is. 

“Same, honestly ever since I started working at my mom’s shop, I feel like my childhood is officially over,” Trisha laughed. 

“God I’m glad I’m not the only one,” you joked back. 

“We were about to go up into my room and smoke, you wanna join?” Summer asked which you immediately agreed to. 

Her room was really nice, with pink coral walls and a bunch of different posters that covered them. Trisha and you sat down on her bed and Summer walked over and grabbed a bong from under her desk. She grabbed her desk chair so that she could sit in front of you guys. Trisha surprised you and pulled a blunt out from behind her ear. They thought this was your first time smoking but it wasn’t. When you work in a nursing home, sometimes the only thing keeping you sane is your wind-down time at the end of the day. After puffing on those for a bit, Summer pulled out a tray that had a couple of purple almost violet crystals. Without saying a word to each other, the two girls crush up one and then snort it. It took you back at first, the brazenness of how casually they were doing lines was a little jarring, to say the least. When you asked what it was they explained what kalaxian crystals were and what the high was like. Even though it was embarrassing, the factor that sold you was when Summer said they couldn’t be picked up on a drug test. Trisha was holding up the tray and Summer was walking you through what to do. 

“So like, when people do lines for the first time, most don’t fully sniff because they are obviously like, intimidated by it. But if you take a small bump then it’ll just burn and you won’t get the full high. So just go full throttle,” she said handing you the straw, the fact that the whites of her eyes were now blue made you nervous. 

However, the mix of alcohol and weed in your system was making you ballsy. You close your eyes and take the full line, dropping the straw on the tray and bringing your hands to your nose. As if that would’ve helped the burning sensation. Both girls were giggling as they watched you react, asking every now and then if you were okay. Your entire sinus cavity was not only burning but giving off an unpleasant taste in the back of your throat. The effects were immediate and you felt like you were defying gravity. Like if you really tried you could start floating away. You looked over at the two other girls who were dancing to the stereo Summer had in her room. Without them even noticing, you walked out of her room and made your way downstairs. You felt like everything was moving in slow motion and you were taking in every detail of everything you laid eyes on. The music was so loud that it felt like a heart beating in your ears. Panic and sensory overload were taking over and you could feel your heart began to quicken. After accidentally bumping into a girl, she turns around and tries to snake her arm around your waist. Obviously having a stranger try to grind on you in the midst of a panic attack was the last thing that helped. You broke away and made a B-line to the nearest door. You yanked it open and slammed it shut behind you. You were using your hand to cover your mouth in a sad attempt to stop your hyperventilation. 

“Medical emergency detected, blood pressure 148/96 and rising; Medical intervention advised,” a monotone woman’s voice spoke throughout the room. 

“Oh my fucking god, I’m fucking hallucinating… I’m overdosing I-I’m about to fucking die,” you have cried have muttered to yourself and you covered your ears. 

“You -buhrup- you’re not dying yet, what did you take?” a male’s voice asked. When you looked up, a blue-haired man was standing over you. Wearing brown slacks and black shoes. 

“You deaf? What -buhrup- did you take?” he asked again, taking your jaw into his hands and making you look up at him. Your eyes were still blue from the crystals and your jaw was now chattering. You were still crying and breathing heavily. 

“I told Summer to stop letting people take bumps of kalaxian. I have something, hold on.

“No- I don’t, I just needed a-a few minutes to catch my breath,” you explained, wiping your eyes and standing up, still leaning against the garage door for support. 

“Whatever, you’re lucky I’m trying this whole nice thing,” he said, going back to working on whatever it was sitting on his workbench.

“Sorry,” you said, walking over to his bench and asking if you could sit on the bench. He ignored you but also didn’t protest when you hopped on. Setting your purse down, grab your dab pen and take a puff. 

“You sure about smoking that?” he asked. 

“Weed is a vasodilator so it probably wouldn’t be the best thing for me right now but it can’t be the worst either,” you said taking another hit. 

“Did WebMD teach you that?” he asked.

“No, I learned that from my CNA teacher,” you said. 

“HAHA, do you enjoy wiping shit off of saggy balls?” Rick said followed by a fit of laughter. 

“Yeah, kinda hot,” you said, taking a drag. He looked at you with his eyebrow cocked which made you burst out into laughter, “you should have seen his face!” You said you are unable to compose yourself. He squinted his eyes, tilted his head down slightly, and scowled at you. 

Maybe it was the drugs but the look he gave you made your stomach feel like it was boiling. He again went back to tinkering with his invention. His side profile was strong, his lips were in a frown and he had liquor dripping down his chin. His hands were huge, making a screwdriver look like a pencil. His posture was horrible, practically hunching over the workbench. The blue long-sleeve he wore was slightly tucked into the top of his pants. You were watching his lower stomach rise and lower as he breathed at a very steady rate. He had dark under-eye bags that only added to an angst vibe that radiated off him. You wanted to make a move to indicate that you thought he was attractive but felt insecure. Taking a deep drag from your pen to give you a bit of courage, you kick off your heels.

The sound of them clattering to the floor made Rick look over, he didn’t move but instead shifted his eye to the side to watch you. When he didn’t give you the attention you were craving, you uncrossed your legs and let them hang in front of you. Rick set down what he was working on and turned to face you. Pressing his back into the workbench and just watching you. Biting onto the tip of the pen you take another big drag and blow it between your legs. In turn, he took a swig from his flask, almost like that was his move in this little game you were playing with each other. You set your pen down and pull your skirt up so that the jean material of your skirt was no longer touching the tabletop. Revealing the hip bands on your baby blue thong, he chuckled and walked over to you. He stood about a foot away from you and even though there was still distance between the two, it felt closer. You were intimidated by him and you couldn’t tell if it was turning you on more or not. Extending your leg out, you use your foot and untuck the front of his shirt from his pants. Exposing his happy trail that to your surprise was also blue. 

“So the carpet does match the drapes,” you giggle, which quickly turns into a gasp as Rick grabs your ankle and holds it up slightly. He was squeezing it so tightly but this only ignited a need that you didn’t know existed. 

“Should have asked if you were so curious,” he said, pulling your leg so that your ass was almost falling off the edge of the table.

He loosened his grip on your ankle and ran his calloused hand up your leg. Once he was close enough, he snaked his hand around your waist. The feeling of his hand touching your lower back made your back arch involuntarily. His crotch was pressed lightly against yours. You were so nervous that your teeth were chattering. His hands were now running up and down your lower back, almost like he was getting off from watching how sensitive you were to his touch. When you looked up, he was already looking down at you. This was something that was new to you and you weren’t quite sure what to do with your hands. Trying not to think too hard about it, you dip your fingers into the waistband of his pants and boxers. You pressed your nose against him, letting your bottom lip rub against his gently. You start pulling on the end of his shirt, prompting him to take it off. He shook his head in disagreement, so you pull away slightly and take your top off. He laughed and then took his shirt off as well. As if he had a look in his eye that said I’ll show mine if you show yours’. The fact that neither of you had to speak to communicate made you want to throw yourself at him. There were scars littered across his body, you traced one that was on his chest. Moving your fingertips to his arms, still admiring his old battle wounds. He was still watching you even though you weren’t making eye contact with him. 

When you finally broke away and looked up at him and couldn’t help but admire him. His frown lines, how dark his eyes were, and how his hair was sticking out in all directions. You smashed your mouth against him, unable to bear waiting any longer. He was such a good kisser, not messy and sloppy like the ones you’ve had before. He was aggressive but not overbearing, you wrapped your legs around his waist. Running your hands through his hair and around his neck. He moved his hands to his hips and began grinding against you. Your lips were starting to feel raw from how long he’d been biting and kissing. Moving your hands down to his pelvis you try unbuckling his belt. When he pulled away from you, a trail of saliva connected by the both of your bottom lips followed. He pulled down the front of his pants, exposing his dick. You pulled your panties to the side and he didn’t waste any time reaching down to feel how wet you were. He let out a hoarse moan, and let his forehead fall onto your shoulder. At this point you were aching with anticipation. Unwilling to take his teasing anymore, you reach down and line up his tip with your entrance. He takes the hint and moves his hands back to your hips for support. Slowly he started pressing into you, his mouth was slightly hung open. There was a slight stinging from how big he was but because he was starting slow, that feeling soon faded. He took a step forward once he was fully pressed into you. 

He kept himself buried inside of you for a while while kissing your neck. Sucking hickies and leaving bite marks all the way down to your shoulder. He slowly started rocking himself back and forth. You attach yourself to his neck, wrapping your arms around his neck and moan as he slides in and out. You were trying to buck your hip up in order to meet him halfway with his thrusts. Watching his facial expressions as he pounded into you was making you feel euphoric. Everytime you tightened around his shaft you could see his face scrunch in pleasure. At this point he was pounding viciously into you, your walls were becoming sensitive. You were sure that he was getting close because he was getting more aggressive. His thrusts were getting more sporadic, he reached up and grabbed a fist full of your hair. Forcing your head back, exposing your neck allowing him to continue marking you up.

You were whimpering every time his length pressed completely inside you. His face was red from how much he was exerting himself. Your arms were wrapped around his neck so he grabbed you from underneath your knees and pressed you against the wall. The change in position was enough to send you over the edge, going limp slightly as your pussy spasmed around his cock while you came. He let his entire body weight press against you as he came inside you. As you were cumming, you could feel his throbbing member spurting inside of you. When he pulled out he took his shaft into his hand and rubbed his tip up and down your folds. Enjoying the feelings of your warmth and swollen core. He set you back down on the top of his work station. You were still cross faded and don’t think you could walk even if you wanted to. Barely being able to keep your eyes open you use your arm as a pillow to ‘rest your eyes’ for a few moments.

Rick zipped his pants up and went to leave the garage, knowing you’d probably leave once you woke up. Maybe it was the recent encounter with Unity that made him feel like a douche. As if having careless sex with you was only proving her point that you were a bad guy. He took a deep breath and stood in front of the door for a while before turning around. Grabbing your purse, he took your wallet and looked for the address on your ID. After punching it into his portal gun and creating the green entryway to your house. He picked you up bridal style and carried you through the portal. He used his foot to move the covers over and set you down on your bed. Leaving your purse and shoes on the floor next to you before leaving.

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

So...what happened was, I was simply on my way home and I happened to see something black and fuzzy in someone's driveway. Being curious, I looked closer and there was a small squirrel. At first I thought she was dead, perhaps fallen, and was about to test with my foot, fully expecting to jump away and bolt at the telltale sign of rigor mortis (I really don't like dead things). But then she moved. And I thought, well, at the very least I should get her out of the driveway and put her in a bush so she at least has a chance.

I took out my scarf so I wouldn't touch her with my bare hands and had no idea if she might be injured so I carefully eased it around and under her and picked her up but then she clutched onto it really hard and went to sleep. I couldn't just shake her off in a bush after that. I tried to interest her in a grape and she was interested, waking up momentarily, but it was too big for her. She kind of bit onto my scarf and went back to sleep.

She doesn't appear to be injured. She's not super small. I would guess a juvenile. But I don't know how she got to where she was, whether she's okay or what. If she is severely injured, I guess she'll die overnight warm and comfortable. And if not, well...I guess I'll deal with that tomorrow.

For the record, I have attempted to bring a young animal to a centre before in this city. It did not work out at all (the one was a wildlife centre and was closed despite their hours saying otherwise and the other was the humane society and they straight up said they'd euthanize her even though she wasn't an invasive species).

So anyway I put the scarf + squirrel in a paper bag and put some half grapes and hazelnuts in with her.

[doberbutts]

I can't understand the idea that someone outside of an oppressed group cannot be victims of violence towards that oppressed group. That anon you deleted, the one who got mad and went "so cis people can experience transphobia!?!" Have you not read the news lately? What? What is happening to Imane Khalif right now? When you are past some arbitrary "acceptable range" of looks, behavior, etc., you become a target. As a cis woman who grew up in a conservative area, having "boyish interests" was enough for me to be subject to slurs and abuse. And it stuck around past that, because I have a small chest and broad shoulders, a long face. Whatever. Systems of oppression effect everyone under them because they all rely on "passing". You are required to reach a bar and to look and perform in certain ways and that bar is ever changing.

Well, that's why when someone was in my replies being upset that I asked how Khelif could be considered TME when transmisogyny was actively happening to her, one of the things I responded to said person was:

I don't understand how discussion the widespread effect of a systemic form of oppression and how it affects other things or is used as a weapon in other things, at all damages or erases the conversation that said systemic form of oppression is a problem. If anything, it's spreading further awareness.

I understand if the concern is that not enough people are caring about the trans women to whom transmisogyny happens on a regular basis, and are instead only ever caring about non trans fems and their relationship with being on the receiving end of transmisogyny. That is a problem, and it's one that does need to be talked about more often.

However I don't think any other form of oppression is specifically locked to only the people who identify as that oppressed demographic. Men experience misogyny. White people experience racism. Abled people experience ableism. "You throw like a girl" "you're not my daughter if you marry that black man" "what are you, deaf?" these are all things that are experienced by the "wrong" demographic, because in truth? The demographic doesn't matter.

These are systems we're talking about- the system of misogyny is what leads boys who fail to be masculine enough to be compared to girls as a way to state they are inferior, because the point is that with the system of misogyny, girls are inherently inferior to boys. Therefore, calling a boy a girl is calling him weaker, lesser, and not good enough.

The system of racism is what leads white parents to disown their children if their children date outside of their race. The point is that under the system of racism, interracial dating is seen as an aberration, and these racist parents then reject their own children for daring to love someone who is not white.

The system of ableism is what leads people to make comparisons to disability when bringing up someone's shortcomings. Disabled people are largely seen as failures in abled society, so by pointing to disability whenever faced with what is perceived as inadequacy, the system of ableism operates to continue to associate being disabled with worthlessness, and being abled with having worth.

Hell, it was not that long ago that "gay" and "retarded" were used as synonyms for "bad" and "stupid". Some people still use these words that way. It was a fucking Rick and Morty joke a few years ago, this isn't ancient history.

So when I'm told that I don't experience a system of oppression based solely on my labeled demographic and not on my actual lived experience, my immediate first thought is "that's not how systems of oppression work, literally everyone experiences these things in different ways, because that's what is meant when we call something systemic, it means the entire fucking system is built around this as a crux of logic"

Which is very weird to me then when someone tells me that by saying Khelif is/was experiencing transmisogyny, I'm erasing trans women. How? I genuinely don't understand how that's possible when I'm saying that the explicit hatred and fear of the trans woman boogeyman is what led us here in the first place. I am saying "this comes directly from people pushing transmisogynistic rulings for years and was always going to be the end result when they finally excluded all the actual trans women". I'm saying "it was bad logic when applied to trans women and it's bad logic even now, being applied to a [self-identified] perisex cisgender 'biological' woman and we should have put our foot down about it years ago when trans women and intersex women were actually competing".

Transmisogyny is a system of oppression. The system is functioning normally even when it fires at targets it's "not supposed to". That's what happens under systemic oppression. That's a feature, not a bug.

[dilatorywriting]

Hello! May I request 94. With Rook?

I certainly wouldn't mind the smoot if you think it fits into what you write-

Gender Neutral Reader x Rook Hunt Word Count: 1.2k

Prompt 94: "Don’t act innocent, you had me pinned underneath you 5 minutes ago."

🌶️ Warning for Mild Spice

[EVENT MASTERLIST]

“Just a bit of chase!” he says.

“The thrill of the hunt can be so fun!” he says.

Except now you’re covered in sweat and doubled over panting like you’re going to go into cardiac arrest. Because Rook’s idea of ‘oh, just a little run around, je promets!’ involved nothing less than a full fucking sprint through the wooded areas of the campus—over hill, and under hill, and godyou were so out of shape.

You gasped into your knees, bent over in anticipation of just, I don’t know. Death? Vomit? All of the above?

“Ah, don’t tell me you’ve given up already, mon cher!” the aforementioned demon cooed from somewhere in the trees. In the trees! Like a literal, freaking hunter of old, and not your coddling boyfriend smiling all pretty when he says ‘just a bit.’ Absolute bullshit. You wanted a refund. “We’ve only just begun!”

“It’s been—” you gasped, swiping a furious hand over your dripping brow, “—an hour! You fucking masochist!”

“A true predator knows best that a subtle, steady approach is always the most satisfying, mon petit lapin,” he hummed, voice echoing discordantly over your head. “And how could I not take my time, when the reward is bound to be so sweet, hmm?”

“What reward?” you snapped. “Me doing this at all is the reward!”

The blonde’s trilling laughter curled through the air like the tinkle of a windchime. Light, and airy, and pleasant. Which was deceptive. And entirely unfair.

“Ah, but mon favori. I doubt you could ever say no to a little death, hmm?” he cooed. And the continued, with an air of faux consideration. “A bit for you, and then perhaps a bit for me. And then a bit more for you—”

Fuck his poetry. It was going to be a big death. A literal death. With rigor mortis, and decay, and a bloating corpse if you didn’t have a chance to collapse into a puddle in the next five minutes. Normally Rook’s sweet sonnets and romantic ramblings were something you found quite endearing. But surely anyone would be pushed past their Cutesy Bullshit Tolerance after being chased like a bat out of hell for the past literal hour. You felt woozy, and wrong footed, and like maybe that muffin you’d snagged for breakfast might be in the process of making up its mind to come back up to say hello.

“You have to run, petit lapin,” that chittering voice called again. “That’s the whole point.”

“No!” you snapped, stomping your foot like a toddler. “I give up! I’m a dumb rabbit! A lame rabbit! A rabbit with no legs! Just—get me already!” you shouted into the leafy canopy.

Silence.

You glared up into the kaleidoscope of greens, eyes narrowed as you searched the shadows. Surely he was somewhere. Somewhere close. You just had to—

And then you were crashing forward with an inelegant screech—a familiar, gloved hand pressing into the skin at the back of your neck and the other twisting into your uniform jacket to push you down into the dirt. And then Rook was sitting astride your hips, looking down at you with a sharp, brilliant gleam in his emerald eyes.

“Ah, mon pauvre lapin perdu,” he sighed, all faux sympathy, and shifted to lean forward so that he could grin into your flushed face. “Whatever shall I do with you, hmm? Rolling over to show your belly so readily. Certainly that’s far from safe.”

There was a tight, warm, whoosh in your gut. A twisting thing that you knew far too well at this point. And it spelled nothing but bad things.

You raised your chin as best as you could, meeting that toothy smirk of his head on, and then—

Ah. Nope. That had been the muffin after all.

Your face went green and you rolled onto your side to barf chunks of banana-nut-nonsense all over the grass.

.

.

“Mon cher, how can you ever forgive me?” Rook wailed, dabbing a soft, silk cloth against your heated forehead, nearly in tears. “I have failed you so horribly! So completely! I deserve to be cast from your good graces! Cursed to errer seul! Mutilé par des chiens! Jeté en enfer! Forcé de se repentir pour toujours!—”

“Enough, please,” you whined, pinching at the bridge of your nose. “I’d rather you just, I don’t know, got me a glass of water.”

“Right away!” he chirped, shooting to his feet and darting out the door and down the hall. He was back hardly a moment later, depositing a clean cup into your hands and plunking a curling, purple straw into the center of it.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, leaning forward to take a sip.

“Anything at all for you, mon cher!”

This was almost worse somehow.

“Would you cut it out,” you sighed. “It’s fine. Really. Shit happens.”

He stared up at you from where he was kneeled on the floor at your side with the largest, most doleful eyes you’d ever seen. Like a kicked puppy dog had a sad, sad child with, like, an even more pathetic, more kicked, kitten. You jabbed at him with your foot.

“And stop that!”

“Stop what?” he asked, blinking those stupid, stupid green eyes at you.

“Acting all innocent!” you complained. “You literally had me pinned underneath you, like, five minutes ago!”

“I did, didn’t I?” he hummed, sounding almost pensive. He reached up to tap at his chin, like he was chewing over a thought. “And I wasn’t even able to keep my promise, was I?” he lamented, deflating.

“What promise?” you frowned.

“For a bit of mutual demise,” he sighed. “Une petite mort.”

You felt heat crawl up your cheekbones and all the way to the tips of your ears. Because this had been some whole, elaborate setup, hadn’t it? Something that you’d only agreed to because he’d seemed so, ah, enthusiastic. And then you’d gone and barfed up banana chunks and ruined the whole thing.

“Sorry,” you mumbled.

Rook’s head shot up and he reached out to snare your hands in his.

“Non, non, mon cher!” he gasped. “This was hardly your fault to speak of! It is I and my poor planning that ought to make recompence,” he said.

And then, a terribly acute sort of brilliance came over his face. Like a lightbulb went off in his brain. Those green eyes went sharp with focus. He seemed to roll the his words around on his tongue, as if deciding exactly how they ought to taste when he let them fall back out again.

“And recompense I shall make!” he chirped, determined and shifted so his chin was resting in your lap. He sent you a coy little grin that had shivers racing down your spine.

“I literally just threw up,” you complained.

“This will certainly help you feel better,” he offered.

“That’s not the point!” you squawked. “Shouldn’t I—I don’t know—at least brush my teeth or something first?”

“Forgive me, mon petit lapin,” he laughed against your thigh. “But last I checked, I don’t think your mouth has anything do with this. And besides,” he crooned, reaching up to press a firm hand against your shoulder and help ease you down to the mattress below. “That was from overexertion, I’m afraid. Not illness. And I can promise, mon cher, that this time, you won’t have to bother putting any work in at all~”

.

.

[conanssummerchild]

lukewarm takes with conanssummerchild time ‼️

in solaricks when rick goes back to dimension C-137 he seems just about ready to start at least trying to move on from hunting prime, he admits that he can't find him and even goes on to tell "diane" about their grandkids

yet this is him less than a season later

so, what changed?

well, this, obviously:

not to mention how traumatic that episode must've been for rick in general, having to revisit his past like that, the diane ghost ai. well, rick makes it pretty clear he's not exactly thrilled to be alive

so think it's pretty safe to assume that this was the first step to the rick prime relapse, especially since we know he went back and managed to snag a killbot

one could also argue that rick wasn't ever really over it, so it took very little to push him back, and while i don't think he was over it either, he did seem to start to want to be, morty saying this:

was all it took for him to step away from the base, though it's likely he returned in another moment, but still, that could've been later on

okay, anyway, into the actual point of this post, i think rick took small steps into falling back into finding prime, because even when he seemed to want to be bettering himself things kept going wrong, so eventually he decided, what was the point?

this is how i see it:

obviously preceding solaricks we have rickternal friendshine of the spotless mort, which i'm not gonna go into too much detail on rn despite it being one of my fav lore episodes bcs i wanna look at post-solaricks (but for pre-solaricks rickmurai jack is also worth mentioning due to him having to revisit his backstory with the citadel which is very closely linked to his time looking for prime/killing ricks) but go ahead and check out this post by dirty-bear-rick-sanchez for the best explanation i've seen on it and its effect on rick

anyway, so just 2 episodes after solaricks we have bethic twinstinct, and i've gone into this in a past post how this might have taken him back to his past so i'm just gonna copy paste it from my other post (summarised) bcs im lazy:

a lot of ppl theorise rick and prime knew eachother before he offered him the portal gun so if thats true what if beth and space beth reminded him of them and how he was (hypothetically) cheating on diane and then lost her forever at the hands of the man he was having an affair with and also lost his beth

which is why rick said "remember, its not just your ice cream you're forgetting, it's your family's" or smth. because he forgot his familys ice cream too much, and all that happened

also look at all the similarities between prime and SB's outfits

then 5 episodes after that we have analyse piss, where we see that rick relates to pissmaster, sympathises with him

i will never not reccomend this fic by abed-with-a-knife about how rick was taken back to his own struggles with suicide and such, but it's not only that, so many features of pissmaster's experience are things rick can relate to, his rocky relationship with his daughter, everyone hating him, i think in general it's pretty clear that this episode was made to link rick and pissmaster

anyway, the next episode after analyse piss is immediately a rick in king mortur's mort, and this is quite clearly rick's breaking point, obviously we know this is when he replaces himself with rickbot, following this scene:

rick tells morty not to take the sword and morty doesn't listen

morty says rick's boring and calls him a "drunk cranky fuck" which does seem to bother rick

despite him shitting on a similar insult in the previous episode

in ricktional mortpoons rickmas mortcation, the following episode, he says the reason he replaced himself was because of this, because he feels like morty doesn't respect him any more, and that:

so first the show wears away at his friendships and his past trauma and self hatred with rfotsm, rickmurai jack goes even further into his past, his relation with the citadel, his "crybaby backstory", etc.

then solaricks forces him to confront his past, specifically his relationship with diane and accept his future and his new family, while giving him a small clue to prime.

then bethic twinstinct, provided he and prime really did know eachother previously (which im a little on the fence on if i'm honest), reminds him of his guilt for diane and little beth dying and how he feels responsible for it by mirroring the situation with older beth and the "edgier" version of herself. after that, analyse piss continues to dig into his current relationship with a beth that isn't his own, and takes a shot at his suicidal tendancies and how he feels like "god hates him" or the universe is against him or whatever.

and lastly akikmm takes all of that that rick is already carrying on his shoulders and adds morty not respecting him or caring about him to it, and it clearly cause rick to finally snap. if all of this was building and the only thing keeping rick afloat was his codependant relationship with morty (as seen in solaricks when morty gets him to not go after prime just by showing his care) then morty (by no fault of his own) seeming to dismiss rick must make him think "what's the point anymore?" if no one cares about him, then he might as well complete his life-long revenge plot, even if it destroys him again

because no one cares about him, right? (dramatic old fuck, get him psycological help)

anyway it's almost 2am so my thoughts aren't as coherent as i would like and i'm too lazy to read over this post and check if everything is right and good

most of what i've said in this post is probably pretty obvious, i just wanted to lay it out neatly with images and everything (im so classy ik /j) it accidentally came out a LOT longer than i intended. what can i say i just love yapping on about rnm

[readychilledwine]

Crawl Home To Her

Summary - While Ruhn is being tortured by Lydia, his brain starts to force him to escape by replaying memories of the girl he left. Only in each memory, a giant golden thread starts to appear glowing brighter each time.

Warnings - torture, angst, smutish

A/N - I had to get this posted before baby daddy changes this song for me completely. He sings it to our daughter when he's trying to get her to settle in for a nap, he dances to it with her in the kitchen when he's trying to calm her down. It's their song ❤️

Ruhn could barely feel the strikes from the female he had given everything up for. The one he had left her for. His head whipped as pain exploded through his jaw but was quickly numbed as his brain took him somewhere else.

Music blared through the speakers at the house party Bryce's friend was throwing. Ruhn, Dec, and Ithan had agreed to go at the mention of her friend's ability to manipulate plants and how she had managed to grow and harvest a mirthroot strain that made Bryce feel like she was flying. Hunt had rolled his eyes at the mention of her friend. As if there was something they weren't telling the rest of them.

Ruhn smiled as his younger sister ran, squealing to a gorgeous female. Hunt chuckled softly at the look on Ruhn's face. The prince was trailing his eyes over the female's long thick muscled legs, her ass his hands were twitching to squeeze, the small curve of her stomach, her trim waist, her pushed up breasts threatening to spill from the black lacy shirt she was wearing. "I get you like what you're seeing, Ruhn, but I'd appreciate you not drooling over my little sister."

"That's your sister?" Hunt nodded as the female began to wave at him, bright white teeth on display as she smiled. "She got a husband?" Hunt immediately shot Ruhn a tight glare.

"No."

"Does she want one?"

Ruhn groaned as he was thrown back into his cell and curled up on the ground. He knew at least one rib was broken, his jaw burned, he tried to squeeze his hands in silent confirmation of the damage there as well. It was also definitely broken. He willed his mind back to the night he met her.

Ruhn had continued to stare at Bryce's friend as the two girls smoked and talked. He, Declan, and Hunt had only gone over there long enough to steal some mirthroot from the long-haired beauty and then made their way to the couch. Bryce was beginning to fade softly into her friend's chest before fully giving in and leaning into her solely for support.

"Hunt," Ruhn's ears twitched at her voice, it sounded like soft spring rain, "are you and Bryce staying the night?" Hunt barely moved his eyes to acknowledge her or Bryce. Ruhn had rarely seen the Umbra Mortis this fucked up. "Yeah, you're all crashing here." Ruhn watched as she moved Bryce gently up the stairs. A faint silver thread was attached to her. Right at her heart.

Ruhn came back to reality as someone gently touched him. He looked up at the face he'd been drifting off to. A gold thread was attached to her. He reached up to touch her face and felt a sob hit him when his hand went through her like mist. "I'm not physically here, honey. I'm just here Astrally trying to figure out where you are. We're coming, we have some.. interesting help. Hold on okay?" She stroked his bruised face causing another memory to flash into his mind.

Ruhn had grown increasingly close to the female he had met at the house party 6 months ago. She was currently in his lap, their lips attached as his hands roamed the curve of her ass. She pulled away from him and leaned their foreheads together. The two of them were nothing more than friends. At least, that's what he told himself. Friends who almost weekly had very intense make-out sessions to help Ruhn release tension. He stroked her face lightly before pulling her back into him.

The reality of how desperately he wanted her set in once he fisted her hair and pulled it hard enough to make her moan softly. He picked her up and groaned as her muscled thighs wrapped around his waist. He walked her up the stairs of his house and kicked his door shut after they entered the room. He pulled away from her before tossing her gently on the bed.

She watched as he ripped his shirt off and climbed on top of her. "Ruhn," he growled at the sound of his name on her lips, "I've never done anything like this before."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Something about your brother literally being the angel of death kind of scares most people off.." Her face was glowing red with embarrassment.

"He doesn't scare me, kitten. Let me take care of you."

A faint silver thread had become to turn golden as he dove back in to kiss her.

He opened his eyes again and she was gone. He smiled the best he could at the memory of her moans and cries as he pulled her apart piece by piece, igniting his soul, his heart, his mind on fire. But what was that thread? The thread he had noticed twice now.

They came back a few hours later, pulling him by his arms back to the room they had been beating him in for 3 days now. He stared at Lydia. His love for her was gone. It had left him like dust floating off into the wind, unseen and as quickly as it came. The thread connecting them, the one who made him believe they were mates was gone.

She leaned down to look at him and her eyes widened when she realized he held no more love for her. He watched her reach up to touch the ear piece she was wearing before pressing on it lightly to communicate, "The witch broke the spell. We need to move them before she tracks us-" a loud explosion broke through the air. Sparks of black and red magic, her magic, flooding the empty space. Ruhn felt himself slumping over as his vision filled with black spots and lightheadedness set it.

"Did I do something?" Her voice was breaking as he held her at arms length.

"No, just. This just isn't working." His voice was soft as his own heart was breaking.

"There's someone else." He froze as she silently told him what he feared. That she knew. "You promised to never lie to me." She moved away from him. She opened the door to her home and motioned for him to leave. "I'll light a candle for you tonight, Ruhn. I hope your soul finds the peace it needs.."

"Y/n."

"Please go."

Ruhn watched the golden thread appear and flicker, it connected them briefly before smoke and darkness covered it hiding it from his view.

Ruhn came to on a familiar couch, Hunt was laid on the opposite conch with Bryce holding his hand. Ruhn watched him waiting for any sign of life in the other male and released a silent breath as he saw his chest move.

"She's not breathing-" Ithan's voice was distant and panicked as Ruhn fully came to. Ithan and Declan had a figure laid out on the table in the kitchen.

"No fucking shit? I couldn't tell. Bryce! We need help!" He watched in slow motion as Bryce and her red hair ran into the kitchen, three winged males Ruhn didn't know watched the whole scene. One of them turned and looked at him and it was like staring into a mirror. Or at his mom. This male REALLY looked like his mom. They stared at each other as he felt a clawed hand reach into his mind. He immediately grabbed onto it in his mind while glaring at the male.

"Rhys! Help!" The male broke eye contact with him before walking over to the table Bryce was at. Ithan moved over to Ruhn and sat down next to him.

"How ya doing, Rue?" At the sound of the nick name, the name only she called him, he was instantly pulled into another memory.

"Please, Rue," she begged softly below him, "Please don't stop." Ruhn groaned as he wrapped his hand around her throat. He had broken up with Feyra a month ago in favor of Agent Day but constantly found his soul begging for the dark-haired female. The warmth of her cunt welcoming him with each thrust. Her breathy moan and pants were growing louder as her walls began to flutter around him. He reached his arm around her back as she arched off the bed, nails digging into his back.

"You feel so fucking good baby." He kissed the point on her neck that always drove her wild before licking the column. "Need you to cum baby. I need it. Can you let go for me?" She whimpered in response, nodding eagerly. He released his hold on her before pulling her hips to follow him as he sat straight up, he then moved to put one of her legs over his shoulder. Her cock drunk eyes met his, begging for release, begging to be made his fully. "Such a good girl." He whispered before beginning a punishing pace on her already over stimulated body.

Her cries became loud and consistent as the heavy drag of his cock filled her, slamming into her over and over. Ruhn's name began to fall from her swollen lips like a prayer, like he was her God. A faint golden glow started happening between them. It sparkled, breaking through the mist and darkness trying to hide it. "I'm right fucking there pretty girl," he leaned into her pressing his forehead against hers, "come with me. Walk over the ledge with me." She came for him the second he pressed a heated kiss to her lips. He groaned following her over as he leaned his forehead back against hers watching her eyes.

The golden glow had filled the room. It connected them at the heart. It pulsed with excitement and joy.

Ruhn snapped back to reality to yelling voices. Hunt was up at the table now as well. "What the fuck happened?"

"She was using so much magic and she had several of the guards and Lydia showed up . Lydia cast something on her and now it's like her mind is just gone," Bryce's voice fell.

"Y/n, sis come on." Ruhn heard Hunt gently zap his sister, "Are we sure she's there anymore? How long has it been since she responded last?"

"She's there. I can feel her running through something. I can't tell what yet though" a smooth deep voice responded. Ruhn went to move only to get held back by the two winged males. He began to fight against them, scared of who was lying on that table as everything came back to him. "Azriel, Cassian, keep Ruhn away from here." The two nodded as he began to fight against them. Long dark Brunette hair fell over the side of the table as Hunt electrocuted the body.

"Should I colour it?" He watched her in the full-length mirror. "It's just boring." He scoffed before moving to stand behind her and trapping her facing the mirror.

"There is not a single inch of you that's boring. I happen to fucking love your dark hair." He leaned into her kissing her temple, "especially when it's tangled in my fist as I'm fucking you from behind."

"Ruhn!"

He heard the door open, pulling him from the memory, and went into shock as his mom entered the room. "Ruhn!" She froze at the sight of the two males holding him back before covering her mouth with her hand.

"Momma," he sobbed before turning back to the table. Her eyes followed his and she ran over to the table. Her and the unknown male stared at each other as she began to heal the female laying down. Her arm hand had fallen over the ledge and twitched as a deep broken breath filled the air.

"Y/n! Honey, look at me, you need to keep your eyes open, okay? I need you to stay awake, sis. Let me see those eyes, baby," Hunt began pleading. The two winged males had let go of him, the one with scarred hands backing away slowly while looking at his mom. "No. No. No. No. Do not close your fucking eyes. You have to fight, y/n. Think of fucking Ruhn. Of Bryce. Of me. Fight, sis. Fight."

"We're losing her, Rhys." He heard the male chuckle at his mom's soft voice.

"It's funny how you think this is going to get you out of a LONG conversation, Velaris." Who the fuck was Velaris? Why was this Rhys dude calling his mom Velaris.

"I don't think I owe you an explanation. We did what we had to do to keep mom and I alive. That's the end of the story. Heal my son's mate. Or, take your hounds and leave."

Mate. Mate. Mate. The word began to pound into Ruhn's mind as Ithan sat him back down. "Breathe man, you gotta breathe."

He swayed you in your kitchen as the two of them danced to a song that fell far from the normal music Ruhn listened to.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair and froze. He had just dumped her. Why was he doing this? Why couldn't he leave her alone?

"Y/n, fight!" Hunt was screaming at his sister.

She pulled away from him and looked up at him with a tight knit brow. "Then why did you dump me?" Ruhn froze at the question. He looked away from the scene, playing in front of him long enough to see a blooded version of the female he had just confessed his love to.

"NO. NO. NO. YOU FUCKING BITCH. YOU ARE STRONGER THAN HER! FIGHT!" Bryce's cries echoed as she yelled at her best friend. They ripped him from the memory as his head snapped back to the table.

"She's trapped in a void, we can't pull her out. I can't even fully tell if it's a memory void or just darkness with glimpses. Something painful is holding her there." The deep smooth voice caused Ruhn to pause. She's trapped in a void.

"Ruhn, help." Her voice came into his mind. His eyes immediately went over to her, then the radio. "Help me."

He ran over to the radio and speaker system, ripping his phone off the table as he went. The song. He had to find the song. Their song.

"Ithan, you two like the same music. Name that tune. It's a love song, it's soft, it's a male singer. It almost sounds like a hymn in nature?"

"Do you know any of the words?" Frustration hit Ruhn. He had just heard it in his mind. In the memory. Why couldn't he think of a line?

"Something about crawling out of a grave to get back to lover?" The male with scarred hands snorted and laughed darkly from the opposite couch while staring at Ruhn's mother whose face instantly fell in guilt.

"Oh I know what song you're talking about. Like one of the lines is like My baby never fret none bout what my hands and my body done? It's a really good song!" Ruhn's eyes narrowed at Ithan as the young male racked his brain.

"Do you know what it's called?" Hunt yelled from the kitchen as he electrocuted you again, "if I have to fucking shock her system one more she's not going to make it. I swear if you fucking die I will bring you back to kill you myself."

Ithan began humming the song to himself while staring at the bloodied body of the female who had begun helping him heal. "WORK SONG! IT'S CALLED WORK SONG!" Ruhn instantly typed the name into his phone and clicked the first result. Deep humming and clapping filled the air. Her hand twitched again. Ruhn moved to be by her, to hold her hand. Her nose was bleeding, the corners of her mouth were bleeding. She was covered in deep bruising. The tips of her fingers and her nails were still an inky black from letting her raw magic loose. Ruhn took the seat closest to her head and grabbed her hand that had fallen. He slipped back into the memory he knew she was trapped in.

"I don't know why I did. I just. I need to see what happens between Agent Day and I." Ruhn had pulled away from Feyra. She leaned against the kitchen counter while he stood on the opposite side of the room, arms crossed against his chest. He watched himself play with his lip ring as she nodded.

"You mean the female you've never met who SOMEHOW got past your iron clad mental shields?" Ruhn flinched. "The one who showed up after you had been drinking at a party with people you hadn't met before? After Danika suddenly wasn't around to keep an eye on Bryce anymore?"

"You know, you're a fucking ugly person when you aren't getting what you want. You turn into a real spoiled cunt." Ruhn froze as the words left his mouth. He didn't mean them. He'd never mean that. He felt a deep pain radiate in his chest at her free falling tears.

"Get out." The blooded you watched the scene with the same look you had on your face as it was happening. A look of absolute devastation. Ruhn watched himself, His past self's eyes widened as he moved to try to touch you.

"I didn't mean that. I swear I did not mean that. I do not know where that came from."

"Get. Out."

He walked behind his younger self and whispered in his ear, "Stay." He took over the mind of the version of him in the memory.

"No. I'm not leaving." He moved to grab her by her arms and backed her against the counter again. "I didn't mean it, y/n. I have no clue where that came from. I love you. You just heard me say I love you. I did not mean that." The you in the memory was replaced with the bloodied one he knew was dying on the table in reality. "I won't let this be the memory of us you die thinking about. I don't want the last time we saw each other to be the memory of me that wins over everything else."

She didn't respond as tears began to flow. He cupped her face and stroked her cheek. He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "I want to worship you," he whispered. "I want to worship your body, your mind, your soul. I want you. I never truly wanted her. It was you. It was always you. It always will be you." He tugged the glittering golden thread. "You're my mate. My first true love. The first girl I brought home to my mom. I love you."

A shattering noise caused the walls of her house to fall apart breaking into little edged pieces around the two high fae. Water took the place of her wooden floors, and the open sky replaced the ceiling.

"Thank you."

A loud sobbing breath broke through the air as y/n shot up clutching her chest in pain. Bryce and Hunt immediately held her while the male Ruhn had just met and his mother picked him up to move him. He was breathing heavily and exhausted from tapping into his magic so soon.

Her inconsistent breathing was slowing down as her lungs began to sing with joy at the increase of oxygen. Tears streamed down her blooded face as Bryce pulled her into her chest. The last few rhythmic claps of the song played in the background.

"Do you need water, sis?" Hunt's voice was soft and gentle. Bryce had already grabbed a water bottle and Hunt began to hold it to her lips.

"Ruhn-"

"Is fine. His wounds were all easy to heal. Drink the water." Ruhn watched as Hunt pulled his little sister into his arms. His cheek rested on the top of her head. "You almost died." She nodded. Her eyes shutting softly.

"The bitch shot me. She fucking shot me."

"I know."

"Ruhn."

"My love."

"I want to stay with you." Ruhn forced himself out of his mom's arms. Hunt moved to allow Ruhn to pull you to his chest. Ruhn slipped his arm under her knees before lifting her. He left the room wordlessly and went up the stairs.

He entered his room and shut the door behind the two of them before sitting on the bed with her in his lap.

"I'm never leaving you again. Do you hear me?" He kissed her temple sealing the promise.

"So tired." Her voice was soft.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'll be here when you wake up."

"I love you." His heart squeezed at how softly she said it. He felt a deep tug in his chest. The mating bond. She tugged the mating bond.

"I love you too." He laid her down before beginning to softly sing in her ear. "When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her."

[heartnotez]

Imagine: Reconnecting w/Rick

The Rick you’d known was abrasive, manipulative, and apathetic. He only had one goal, he had very little that had truly mattered.

Your relationship was one of chaos, of pure attraction and rampant selfishness. You both lived live to the fullest, breaking ties, making enemies and not truly trusting anyone. There was a love that you both shared that was fast and loose. The both of you could lose yourselves on benders that wouldn’t stop if it weren’t for an enemy shooting at you or the Galactic federation crashing a party.

It had ended when you’d wanted something deeper than an unrestrained affair, something deeper than partying until one of you got shot, than saving each other only to return to the same dangers. He hadn’t felt the same, clouded by his past and the inability to let go and move on. He couldn’t give you what you wanted, he wouldn’t change for anyone.

Or so you thought. It had been years since you’d seen him, his long hair now stuck out, shorter than before, the stubble on his face replaced with a clean shave, and his vest was nowhere to be found. Instead a white scientist coat replaced it, and he wore khaki pants. He looked older yes, but the bags under his eyes had disappeared, he looked good.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what he’d say, the way his face softened as he saw you. He quickly crossed the room to where you were, stopping infront of you and his hands beginning to widen for a hug. But he quickly settled his hands down.

You decide to initiate the hug, and you hear him release a breath he’d been holding into your hair and wraps a hand around you, resting his hand on your waist.

“Hi.. it’s been a while.” He says a bit awkwardly as you both step apart, the hand that had rested on your hip now held one of your hands, he softly massaged his thumb on your palm.

“You look good.” You say, giving him a gentle smile. The smile spreads to his face, and he compliments your appearance as well, “you haven’t aged at all day..”

“I uh.. went back… home I mean, to my family, or uh.. a version of them I guess, I’ve been living there for a while now.” He tells you, and the surprise on your face is palpable. “I know, I found him, Rick prime, I finally got him.” Mixed emotions churned in your stomach, but the overwhelming relief that he was okay was triumphant. You gave him a small smile, “I’m glad you’re okay, it couldn’t have been easy.”

An imperceptible look was on his face but he gave a weak smile, and continued to softly hold your hand.

“Would you want to grab a drink?”

~

ive had Rick and Morty brainrot since the new season came out, so have this imagine about Rick! Based on episode 3 of season 7 and ricks relationship with Unity! let me know if you guys would want to see more

[xflixer7]

all of my yellowjacket headcannons (so far)

word count is like a trillion ok i’m not counting all of this

hi it’s been 8 months i finally counted (1865 words)

lottie

she/her transfem! lesbian bottom (i wanna eat her whole)

-schizophrenic

-definitely has some type of ocd

-ptsd

-autistic because i say so

started playing soccer when she was little

will actually go insane is you steal any of her clothes if you look at her she will actually be drooling with heart eyes

plays piano

also knows violin because her parents made her take it doesn’t play is anymore though

lottie isn’t jealous but very protective

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-phoebe bridgers

-clairo

-#1 laufey fan on the world

-fiona apple

unironically knows every katy perry song by heart because she used to be her favorite when she was little

her room is huge

likes putting her hair in pigtails

golden retriever girlfriend she’s so sweet ugh and loves to spend time and money on her person you always staying at her house would literally kiss the ground the person she is dating walker on if they asked her too:((

also the worst cooker you ever met like how did you fuck up toast why is the smoke alarm going off??

favorite color is blue

lottie definitely has a hairstylist she goes too every month to get permed and there really close i can see her telling them about ALL the school drama

lottie wants write story’s when she’s older maybe romance or mystery idk but i can just imagine her having a typewriter and writing you story’s she has wanted to do it since she was a kid and is very passionate about it:((

what i think her favorite shows are:desperate housewives,american horror story,sailer moon

so scared of horror movie like she will start crying

her favorite characters are:

-emily (corpse bride)

-bree (desperate housewives)

-starfire (teen titans)

always goes on and on about how she’s bubblegum and your marceline she LOVES adventure time

her favorite movie is bridge to terabithia

lotties favorite animal is a bunny and she really wants a pet bunny

BEGS you to give her your bra and your confused but you give it too her and she makes a bracelet out of it and wears it practically every day proudly

also think that lottie is a great artist? like sketching and painting wise

nat

SAY IT WITH ME transmasc! (he/they) definitely bi because i say so

-depressed

-dyslexic

-ptsd

started playing soccer in middle school

LOVES christmas like has an unhealthy obsession with it (tries to act like he doesn’t)

northern italian knows the language pretty well also a great cook

wants to play electric guitar

his favorite (modern!) singers are

-tyler the creator

-radiohead

-alex g

-hole

-is so obsessed with mistki don’t even get me started

randomly painted his room black one day when he was bored

usually prefers his hair down

you give him haircuts he doesn’t trust anyone else someone definitely fucked up his hair once and he never went back

his favorite color is black or gray

just wants to be famous tbh but he wants to be in a band

what i think his favorite shows are:rick and morty,bojack horseman,shameless

LOVES horror movies and reality tv like 90 day fiancé and the kardashions (his guilty pleasure)

also likes claymation

his favorite characters are

-ash (fantastic mr fox)

-alyssa (the end of the fucking world)

-coraline (coraline)

his favorite movie is little miss sunshine

nat’s favorite animal is a panther he saw one in the jungle book when he was little and just thought it looked cool

always headcannoing characters as trans like finn from adventure time or jeff from clarence he’s so cute:((

nat skateboards too definitely not great at it but does it when he’s bored

jackie

(she/her) jackie is just a bratty pillow princess lesbian you can’t fool me

-adhd asf

-neurodivergent for sure

-ptsd

started playing soccer because she was bored eighth grade tbh i don’t think she likes it as much as the others but she thinks it’s fun

chronic hoodie stealer

this girl is a vegetarian for sure

jackie is jealous always period

her gay ass button ups bro

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-ariana grande her fav

-rihanna

-billie eilish

-harry styles

-lana del ray

pretty mainstream music taste

all pink room it’s very like coquette?

ponytail girl but also enjoys her hair down

favorite color is light pink duh

wants to be a makeup guru or just stay at home honestly she hates working

what i think her favorite shows are:euphoria, grays anatomy,glee,vampire diaries

i think she likes very drama files shows and will rant about tv show characters and there dynamics and why she think that there like that and etc for HOURS

ughhh jackie is such a girls girl like she is the friend who always has your back and has gum or a tampon for you she is the friend who would check you on your period

her favorite characters are:

-maddy (euphoria)

-regina (mean girls)

-winnie the pooh (she thinks he’s cute)

her favorite movie is DEFINITELY jennifer’s body

jackie is a cat lover and has 2 i can see her with a orange and a gray cat and they always fight

shauna

DEFINITELY bi (she/her)

-bipolar

-ptsd

joined soccer with jackie in eighth grade

has like thousands of boxers

russian

knows how to play saxophone (she doesn’t even know how she learned she just did) she doesn’t own one though

so jealous but never says anything (this girl cannot communicate to save her life)

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-the cranberries

was so mad when they got popular on tiktok and had to let everyone know they where her fav since day 1 (everyone knew)

-suki waterhouse

-cigarettes after sex

-never got over halsey since 2017

-the smiths

(a TRUE music lover over here)

she honestly doesn’t care how her room looks but it’s never clean

doesn’t do anything with her hair really

dark green is her favorite color

shauna’s hair may seem simple but she’s VERY picky about how it’s cut and is always worried there gonna cut it bad so she gets it cut like twice a year(she always ends up hating it)

she wants to be some sort of doctorate she’s fascinated by the human body so i can see her wanting to be a surgeon

what i think her favorite shows are:good girls, queens gambit,13 reasons why

her favorite characters are:

-velma (chicago)

-cassie (euphoria)oh the parallels…

-amy (gone girl)

her favorite movie is chicago (loves musicals)

a simple gal she really likes dogs

taissa

she/her lesbian

-anxiety

-ptsd

joined soccer in fifth grade

mixed (duh)

used to be in the marching band

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-frank ocean

-post malone

-has a soft spot for shawn mendas has all of his albums

-really enjoys 60’s music so she really likes the beetles

her room is pretty big too not huge on decorating

doesn’t care about hair like at all will wear a headband sometimes

a good girlfriend like if your cold she will give you her jacket type she has a temper never jealous either girlfriend material she’s the type you would want your kid to date y’know?

respectful to adults gets good grades and stuff

her favorite color is like a pearlescent white and everyone is like what the hell is that (she is trying to be different this is one of my favorite colors😿)

cuts her own hair thinks it’s overpriced and dumb to have someone professionally do it

tai wants to be something important like president or some shit i can see her being a lawyer

what i think her favorite shows are:the umbrella academy,big mouth,skins

tai only watches skins and euphoria type shows because she loves the drama

her favorite characters:

-hermoine (harry potter)

-patrick (perks of being a wallflower)

-nadine (edge of seventeen)

her favorite movie is the 6th harry potter movie she also thinks it’s the most underrated

she likes tigers

van

she/her and lesbian duh

-ptsd

joined soccer kinda randomly in seventh grade

irish

plays the trumpet but is kinda embarrassed by it

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-bruno mars

-tori amos

-girl in red duh

-david bowie

-was ziggy stardust for halloween when she was 8

can’t convince me her room is not painted red

doesn’t care about hair either puts in a ponytail to keep it out of her face

is a great girlfriend all the same traits as taissa except not the best at school she’s honestly surprised she graduated

favorite color is red

her uncle cuts her hair for like five bucks out of his garage also i definitely think she used to have a bowl cut when she was little

doesn’t really care about money she just wants to be happy wants to own a record store or be a professional soccer player

speaking of records she definitely has a lot of collections like lowkey a hoarder…but her stuff is cool though! like funky pops hot wheels cd’s records etc

what i think her favorite shows are:beavis and butthead, avatar, south park

mostly likes adult animation

her favorite characters are:-harley (suicide squad)-ron (harry potter)-beast boy (teen titans)

her favorite movie is the bee movie or lego batman there cinematic masterpieces

van likes pigeons for not particular reason she just thinks there funny looking

i can see van as a surfer too like her dad definitely is one also i can imagine her being really close with her dad and they have a local family business bakery:((

misty

she/her and idk her sexually like i genuinely have no idea

-autistic

-ptsd

always wanted to be on the team but knew she was bad at sports

german definitely

her favorite (modern!) singers are

-any female kpop band

-justin bieber

-pink-

melanie martenz is her favorite forever

light purple room has justin bieber posters everywhere

lowkey forgets she has hair whenever people comment on it she’s like “oh yeah!”

very obsessive of you and loves you almost too much sometimes you think it’s creepy but than your like “awww she’s so cute”

likes the color yellow

her favorite colors are brown and orange (there her favorite because she feels bad everyone calls them ugly)

i can see her being a k-pop stan too

(her bias in bts is j-hope)

also is a famous editer on tiktok and no one knows😭her username is like “gxxbflix” or some shit

literally has had one haircut in her life like it never grows?

i see her as a pharmacist

what i think her favorite shows are:walking dead,mlp,monster high

has SO many online friends

definitely loves romance anime

she’s in like every fandom ever because she wants to have online friends and be included on discord😭

plays clarinet

is in band

favorite characters:

-cruella (cruella)-alice (alice in wonderland)-edward (edward sciccor hands)

and mistys favorite movie is alice through the looking glass (because it shows the queen of hearts back story and misty loves her)

and misty likes birds duh

those are my headcannons for them i know it’s a lot but i’m obsessed ok send requests if you have any please

-🙈

[thesoftboiledegg]

"The Jerrick Trap" was a clever twist on the body-swapping concept. I had trouble following it at first because they both sounded like Rick, to the point that I wondered if Jerry's half went in hiding. A lightbulb went off in my head when they clarified that they're both Rick and Jerry.

I've seen two people merged into one being ("Tuvix" from Star Trek: Voyager) but two consciousnesses sharing half of each person is something I've never watched before. And Rick and Jerry's personalities merged surprisingly well. Rick and Beth struggle to get along because they're so similar, but Jerry complements Rick perfectly--if only Rick would get his head out of his ass and accept it!

I wasn't a fan of the cold open, thinking "...OK, seriously? Rick 'hates' Jerry so much that he kills himself when he's stuck in his mind?" Others pointed out that maybe Rick just couldn't handle being in a brain without his coping mechanisms, which is a better idea. Still, it's hard to shake off your initial interpretation. I hoped that the episode would elaborate on that, but it never did.

And boy, Jerricky almost ruined the episode for me. Rick and Morty is full of silly, stupid humor--"The Old Man and the Seat" is an episode about Rick sitting on a toilet, for one--but that human-centipede creature was too bizarre. I won't say it was objectively bad, but I might skip that part during rewatches.

Back to what I enjoyed. I loved seeing the reappearance of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. The writers gave Rick's crow phase a shoutout, which is MY favorite thing. I'm surprised the comics never explored that period. I don't read the comics, but I would consider buying that issue.

The backgrounds were stunning, too. Rick and Morty's artists create dazzling environments with their color theory expertise. Rick and Jerry's Miami Vice adventures blew me away in every scene, making me want to live in that tropical city.

As for Memory Rick, he was a surprise. I was wondering today if he ever escaped Rick's mind, so I guess that was a premonition. He'll probably have an important role later on.

Anyway, Jerry admitting that Rick is the closest thing he has to a friend surprised me, but it's true when I think about it. Who else does he talk to? Space Beth can't stand him, his marriage is strained and his kids aren't his friends. His parents rarely show up.

Rick's the only person in his life who isn't obligated to hang out with him because they're related. He's also the only fellow adult male. As much as their lives diverge, Rick can relate to him in a way that no one else can.

Morty says at the end "I think it's clear that you both love each other more than you're willing to admit." Of course, Rick denies it, but his and Jerry's bickering at the table is their weird way of saying "I love you." If they didn't, they'd just leave the table instead of frantically overcompensating.

And their minds wouldn't have fused together so well, either. Otherwise, both halves of Rick would've just killed himself again, or grabbed the gun while Jerry's halves tried to fight him off.

"The Jerrick Trap": a visual masterpiece, a feast for the Jerrick shippers and insight into what's really going on in Rick and Jerry's minds when they argue.

[rickssugarplum]

Rick Returns

After a much too long hiatus, I have finally made a new Rick fic. Wow. A lot has changed since my last fic, but I want to thank all of you amazing readers who have been so patient. Please forgive me if my writing is a little rusty. Thanks again and excited for Season 7 tonight! ❤

(Rick C-137 x Reader) SFW-, Swearing, Hurt/Comfort, Missing Someone, Season 6 Spoilers, 1,900+ words

Rick comes to see you again after a long time. And you find some changes in him.

    *************************************************

It had been too long. Far too long. You hadn't heard a single word from Rick in what felt like a lifetime and were still wondering what the hell went wrong. It seemed to have happened out of nowhere. One day, everything had been fine, and then suddenly, he all but disappeared. He didn't come see you anymore; he wouldn't call you up, not even a single text. At first, you started to think an adventure went awry. Then you started thinking something was really wrong, but you weren't sure what. Is he on a new planet? Did he have to do a high-paying mission? What if he's hurt? Or could he be dead? With how things are now, he might as well be. He started to become a series of bittersweet memories now. You did everything you could to try to forget him, but that was pointless. Rick Sanchez wasn't a man you can just forget, no matter how hard you tried. Many tears were shed, and many thoughts crept into your mind. If his leaving had nothing to do with his space-traveling lifestyle.

Did I do something wrong?

Did he find someone else?

Was I...not enough?

Many months had passed, and you were certain the blue-haired scientist was out of your life forever.

Close to midnight, you were in your bathroom washing your face and getting ready to sleep. As you enter your bedroom, about to lay down in your bed, you hear a sound you thought you would never hear again—the loud warp of a portal.

Immediately, your heart sped up rapidly as you wondered if you were hallucinating. But when you saw a young brunette boy in a yellow t-shirt, you were completely puzzled.

".....Morty??"

You were worried he was here to tell you really bad news about his grandfather. But you had no time to even ask what was happening before another figure broke through the portal. A figure much taller. The silhouette of his spiky hair caught your eye immediately.

It was him. He was here. Rick was back in your room.

His eyes were fixed on you right away. There was almost a determination in them. Yet he also looked unsure.

"Thanks, Morty. I'll take it from here." He motioned the kid to the portal, presumably back home. The boy took a worried glance at both of you before turning back through the portal and disappearing. Now it was just you and Rick. Looking into his eyes for the first time in forever, all the pain came back crystal clear. And the source was right in front of you.

"Bab-"

"DON'T. YOU. DARE. 'BABY' ME."

Rick shut his mouth and understood right away. You were not going to let him off so easily.

"You son of a bitch." You spat at him.

"I know you're mad, and I-"

"Mad!? You ghost me for months; I haven't had even one measly fucking text, and you think I'm mad!?" You interrupted. "I didn't know what the hell happened to you! All these months without any contact from you. Nothing."

Rick stayed silent. He had no argument to make.

"At first, I just thought, 'Oh, he's on a big adventure with Morty! No biggie!' Or had a run-in with an alien mob or something, and it would just take a bit longer to get back to me," you explained. Looking back at Rick, he was rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes looking down to the floor. But you knew he was still listening.

"I was starting to think you were dead." You confessed, trying to keep yourself together.

Rick took in a deep breath before he answered. "I owe you an explanation. All I ask right now is that you'll let me give you that," he requested.

Goddamnit. Just hearing his voice again is painful.

"I thought you were done bailing on people," you said bitterly.

Rick interjected, "Hey, don't start with that." You watched him grab his flask out of his lab coat and take a sip from it.

"Why? Truth too much for you? Does the great Rick Sanchez actually have a kryptonite?" you mocked.

Rick put his hand over his mouth, keeping himself quiet as you let out everything you suppressed inside all this time.

"You told me you'd never leave me behind. No matter where you'd go, you would stick around." You scoffed. "I was really fucking stupid to believe you."

Rick was starting to get agitated. This was not how he pictured this playing out.

"Ugh. Look, I didn't come here to argue."

"No. You want to smooth everything over so I can do any favors you'll want. Bet you never even thought about me all this time. Out of sight, out of mind, right?"

"It's not like that!" he argued. The nerve of him "Why wouldn't it be? It's the same ending to every chapter in your life, Rick. You'll never change."

He winced. That one stung a little. You knew some of your statements could hurt him, but you were too angry to care. Part of you wanted him to see how it felt to be let down by someone you've given your heart to.

"You left an entire dimension after destroying it."

Rick was losing his composure. "Don't."

"Left your family on a tiny planet when the world was going to shit."

He didn't want to hear any of this. "Stop."

"You left Morty to be with some fucking crows."

"Knock it off," he warned.

"Or what!? Are you gonna leave again?" you challenged. "I was starting to accept the fact that you wouldn't come back. What would stop you now?"

"That's not what I meant!" he argued.

"Why would I be so special that you wouldn't bail again? You've done it your whole life. Starting with your own wife and daughter!"

Rick lost it. "I DIDN'T LEAVE MY WIFE AND DAUGHTER!" he shouted. His hands tangled in his hair, and his eyes squeezed shut.

That stopped you dead in your tracks. Confused, you stepped closer to him. A soft gasp escapes when you see that his face has now become wet with tears.

"Rick...?" you said softly. All the rage you previously had inside you has now completely evaporated. This new shift startled you. He was not someone who openly broke down. Nor would he tell such a lie while doing so.

If he didn't leave them, then why weren't they ever with him? Unless his wife took their child and left him, or if they had...

...........

No.

A new feeling is integrated into you: guilt. You were starting to pick up all the tragic pieces together. The heartbreak was plain to see on Rick's face as he trembled in front of you.

In that moment, the source of all his demons became more clear than ever before. He had truly suffered the worst kind of pain.

"Oh...Rick...." Your voice cracked. The distance between you both closed as you wrapped your arms around him. He accepts them immediately and holds on tightly.

"I'm so sorry..."

His face is buried in your neck. To shield his face, or more to just feel you again, it didn't matter. Right now, he needed this. Stroking his baby blue hair, you had almost forgotten how soft it was...

"Rick...I'm sorry...I had no idea..." you said in shame, thinking back to everything you'd said to him before. Now, he had every right to be mad at you. But his first response you received was a soft, gentle kiss on your neck, making you lightly shiver.

"It's haunted me for many years. Consumed most of my life," he confessed. Lifting his head up, you see his face. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were damp from his hurt flooding out of him. Your thumbs gently brush away the tears under his eyes. "I...thought I had finally could have a new chance to find some stability, be with a family, but...something did come up...and it all came flooding back..."

Your brows raised at that.

"So...that's why I haven't been around."

You still weren't entirely aware of the whole story. But one thing was certain: When Rick Sanchez is consumed by something, he gives his all into it.

"I'm such a fucking idiot..." you blurted out, shaking your head. "I thought...you had just gotten bored and moved on from me..."

Rick interjected, "Oh no, baby no..." He pulled you back into his arms, placing your head on his chest. His heartbeat soothed you as you took a deep breath in and out.

"You weren't the only one I hurt here... I-I had kept Morty out of it all too..."

A sigh escapes you. "He's such an amazing grandson to you," you mutter.

"Yeah...but he's not my grands-"

"Yes, he is." You interrupted. "It doesn't matter where you came from or where he came from. He's been there for you through everything and seen you at your worst. And the fact that he came here tonight with you just to make sure you were okay shows me that he still cares about you despite everything. I know he wouldn't want any other Rick. And you wouldn't trade him for any other Morty. You are his grandpa, Rick."

His arms hold you a bit tighter, a silent 'thank you' for your encouraging words.

"Did he tell you to come talk to me?" you wondered.

"Uh no. I, uhh, hooo boy...You won't believe it when I tell you," he warned you awkwardly.

"What?" You didn't know what or who else could convince him to do anything.

"I...was told I should see you by...my uhh...therapist..." he finished, rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes bugged out in shock. "A therapist!? You're seeing a therapist!??

He scoffs "Okay, you really don't have to rub i-" His sentence is cut off by a surprise kiss on his cheek, leaving him a little startled. "Oh, Rick. I'm so proud of you," you say sincerely. It's as if hell had frozen over. He really has changed.

"Yeah, she's, uh, she's alright," he admits with a small smile. "She also told me to tell you what I needed to say, so... I'm sorry."

Your vision starts to get blurry with tears. Those two simple words from this man mean so much. Cupping his face in your hands, you give Rick a small smile before leaning forward and pressing your lips to his. Your arms wrap around his neck, never wanting to let him go. He holds you close when he kisses you back with a little more desperation. He hasn't been kissed by you in so long.

When you finally break away to breathe, you look into his eyes again. This time, they look more serene. As if he feels some shred of peace for the first time in... he can't remember when.

"I've missed you..." you whispered. He pressed his forehead against yours.

"I missed you too, baby..."

With that, every shattered piece of your heart had been put back together. There was more he needed to share with you, but the emotional reunion and the fact that it was late at night left you exhausted. But you were going to sleep much more peacefully with the eccentric man resting beside you once again.

After all these painful months, Rick was finally back. He's changed in some ways, and you were looking forward to seeing how these changes would guide him to a better path.

Because, no matter what happens, you will always love him.

❤

[countlessrealities]

Morty nervously shifted in his spot, hazel eyes still darting around the room. He wasn't sure of whether he would have preferred finding the documents or not. On one hand, having a confirmation would bring him more closure, but on the other, had they found nothing, they wouldn't have to undo whatever was that they had signed.

The thought of staying married brought more heat to his cheeks, but this time the rosy hue was born out of a completely different feeling. Maybe they could consider it not a marriage license, but something that proved that they were romantic partners.

Besides, his boyfriend didn't look very happy about the idea of the annulment, so...

"I...You...W-We were, uh, saying to...W-We need to look for the documents," he stuttered out, even more unsure than before. His thoughts were torn between his doubts and the consummation that hadn't happened, and it wasn't helping his migraine. "B-But I guess...W-We don't have to, you know...undo it. I-If you don't want to. I-It's...we can...it doesn't have to...I-I mean, it can be just...you know, s-something to say that w-we're together. I-In general."

He was making a fool of himself, wasn't he? He should really shut up.

"An-And we didn't..." He gestured down at his own boxer. "S-So...you know." His counterpart didn't know of course, because he himself didn't know what he was trying to say either. "I-I mean, I want...when it, uh, happens the first time, I-I want to remember it, 'cause...r-right?"

Okay, now he was truly embarrassing himself.

Fearing that he would make it worse if he hadn't given himself something to do, Morty promptly stood up, ignoring how the room spun around him for a few moments. They should focus on finding the license.

"S-So, I-I'll search this side of the room an-and you take the other?"

{ @advnterccs }

There was nothing much that Morty could do besides listen to his counterpart. Maybe the marriage wasn't valid on Earth. Though, there wasn't any way to find out other than to find documents pertaining to the whole thing. If they even had gotten them or were able to be found.

Either way, sitting in one spot proved to make him more restless. So, he stood up. Only now realizing that he wore just his boxers. His usual attire for when he went to bed. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"Y-Yeah, you're right, we should see i-if it even means anything first before we, uh, decide what to do," And speaking of, the fact his counterpart brought up undoing it made his shoulders tense. His heart stung just the tiniest bit. "..... D-Does -- I-I mean -- do we have to undo it? If, y-you know, i-if it won't change anything, wh-why just -- uh -- y-you know,"

Before he could really finish what he meant, he froze. Did... did his boyfriend just say what he thought he said? Cheeks burned with a pinkish tint. His eyes widened.

"Wait.... uh, I-I didn't even -- I-I thought -- O-Oh," It was true, they hadn't done anything. Otherwise the situation would've been wildly different. "I-I -- y-yeah -- haha, uh, geez -- wh-what, wh-what were we talking about again?"

Damnit, looks like that's all he can think about now. The consummation of their marriage.

@countlessrealities