#ILYSM DUDE.

[dizzybizz]

ms jay herself (and apple)

[acaesic]

some of my favourite moments in the downside music video

[goodbyetoromance]

"We're here for such a short period of time. Live like you're already dead, man. Have a good time. Do your best. Let it all come ripping right through you."

Happy Birthday, Jeff "The Dude" Bridges!

[potechiis]

homesick

one of my dearest friends drew this fanart from my fic 'Homesick' for my birthday, and im STILL geeking out over it!!

it was an unexpected collab where they did the lineart and I did the colouring ;w;

LOOK AT HOW CUTE YOUNG RICK LOOKS HERE!! HOLDING HIS BAG OF CHIPS!! Prime was such a tsundere in this fic and THEY TOTALLY GOT THE VIBES!!!! i am still SHRIEKING over this ;w;

As the fic is not currently available on ao3, if you're interested in reading the fic, check below the cut ;w; <3

“Dammit!” Rick exclaimed looking at the empty shelf, devoid of the super spicy chips he’d been craving. 

“What?” Prime trotted over, shaking his wet hands off, carelessly scattering water droplets everywhere as he went. “What’s up?”

“They’re out.” Rick frowned disappointedly, the corners of his lips turning down as his brow furrowed in. 

“Tough luck buddy,” Prime patted his back, not sounding sympathetic in the slightest, “Welp, shall we get back to the ship? We still got a couple more hours to go sooo….” 

Prime started walking toward the exit of the small corner store, vaguely checking out a section with different coloured plumbuses on one of the shelves as he wound his way through the colourful aisles stuffed full with wacky looking products. When he saw that Rick hadn’t followed him, he sighed with exasperation and doubled back with his hands on his hips. He found his twin still staring at the empty shelf longingly. 

“Come on, Rick. Let’s go.” His patience was starting to run thin.

“Man, I really wanted to get these.” Rick said wistfully, ignoring his impatient twin. 

“There’s snacks at home, let’s go.” Prime pulled on his arm but Rick still didn’t budge. “Rick,” he said warningly. 

“Okay, okay , fine,” Rick let himself be pulled away, “can we stop by the next gas station though?”

“No, we can’t.” Prime refused to let go of his twin’s arm until they cleared the threshold. 

“Why not?” Rick protested as they walked toward the ship in the parking lot. 

“There’s no more gas stations around here.” Prime lied as he unlocked and got into the driver’s seat.

“That’s not true— how would you know? You didn’t even check!” Rick argued as he slid into the passenger side. He pulled up the navigator and began typing in a search for the nearest gas station on the way. “Hah! See, here’s one.” He said triumphantly, pointing to a red dot on the screen. 

“It’s probably closed.” Prime started the ignition, ignoring the red blinking dot his twin was pointing to. 

“How can it be closed? It says it’s open 24 hours.” Rick rolled his eyes, “Every time you’ve said somewhere was closed, you’ve almost always been wrong.” 

“It’s my ship, I’m driving ergo, we’re not going.” Prime snapped as the ship rose into space quickly. 

“Come on,” Rick whined, “can’t we at least go check?”

“I don’t get why you’re so obsessed with these fucking chips. They’re not even that good.” Prime scoffed, “out of a million flavours in this universe to fixate on, of course you’d choose the shittiest one.”

Rick flushed, hands kneading together in his lap. It was difficult to say exactly why he’d been craving them as of late. The flavour wasn’t perfect but somehow, the hot smoky spice reminded him of home. His Earthly home, that is. Prime disliked it when he brought up Earth or any lingering ties to their home planet and with things as tense and rocky as they were in the ship at the moment, Rick found himself chewing on his bottom lip, not knowing how to defend his intense craving to his twin. 

“They’re not that bad,” he said lamely before looking out the window glumly. 

Stars and distant galaxies twinkled and winked at him like tiny gems sewed onto inky black fabric. Rick usually found the sight quite comforting and awe inspiring but today, they only seemed to remind him of just how far home was. 

Distantly, he heard Prime flick the radio on, an alien tune crackling through the speakers of the ship. Disappointment settled in his stomach heavily. He’d been really looking forward to munching on those chips on the ride back. 

Other than the radio playing and the drone of the engine shuttling them home, the ship was silent and Rick found himself lost in his thoughts, staring out the window with unseeing eyes. 

“We’re here.” Prime said roughly, jolting him out of his thoughts. 

Rick looked up and then out of the ship. This— this wasn’t their little dwarf planet! His eyes dropped to the navigator between them, the coordinates for the gas station still blinking on the screen as the ship closed distance rapidly. He sat up straighter, completely alert and awake. He could hear Prime snickering at his eagerness— but Rick couldn’t care less. His heart skipped, mouth watering eagerly as he silently urged the ship to go faster. So close! He squeezed his hands together tightly, anticipation welling in his chest. 

The neon sign for a gas station was spotted below and Prime eased the ship toward it. 

As the store came into view, Rick felt his heart plummet and the smile that had crept onto his face dropped. 

The lights were completely off inside. 

“No!” Rick cried out in disbelief, “you’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I told you so,” Prime said smugly as he parked. “Told you it would be closed. Now can we— Hey! Where are you—“

Rick threw the door open and ran toward the storefront. There was a notice tacked to the entrance and Rick squinted at the Galactic Standard written on it, deciphering it in his head quickly. 

CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE   

“Are you serious?!” He groaned, hands and face plastered against the glass as he squinted into the dark store like he might somehow magick a store clerk into appearing if he stared hard enough. 

Prime walked up behind him slowly, lighting up a cigarette as he went. 

Rick turned around at the sound of a lighter clicking and hissing. 

“Prime—“ 

“No! No way!” Prime exclaimed, catching the hopeful look on his twin’s face, “I’m not wasting any more time or gas on this goddamn wild goose chase for shitty chips!” He took a drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke out into Rick’s face. “We checked it out and it’s closed. End of story. We’re going home.” 

“Then—“ Rick looked around furtively, “then we break in! We still got the lock picking kit in the ship right— we’ll be in and out, super fast—“

“No.” Prime rolled his eyes as he inhaled. “I’m not gonna do that.”

“Come on,” Rick wheedled, “why not? We’ve broken into other places for less— how’s this any different?” 

“I’m not playing accomplice to your stupid chip heist.” Another cloud of smoke to the face. 

“Unbelievable! After everything you make me do!” Rick huffed, dispersing the acrid smoke with a wave of his hand. “You’re being so unfair right now!”

“I don’t care,” Prime flicked his half-smoked cigarette onto the ground, crushing it out under his boot with an air of finality. He began walking back toward the ship. “Come home with me or stay here licking glass, I really couldn’t give a shit.”

Rick stared at his twin’s back but Prime never looked back once. Fuck . His hands hardened into fists at his sides. He knew that tone of voice. His twin wasn’t kidding. Prime really would leave him here on this nondescript planet that only functioned as a pit stop for intergalactic travellers if he didn’t move his ass. He’d done it before. Rick spent the better part of a week hitchhiking through the galaxy just to get back to their base. 

“Fucking asshole.” Rick muttered crossly as he followed his twin back to the ship dejectedly, feeling like a leashed dog following its owner. He truly was at Prime’s mercy out here. Sometimes he felt like his twin was a golden ticket that could take him anywhere— but some days, he couldn’t help but feel shackled and bound to his whims. 

Rick yanked the ship door open and slammed it shut extra hard to vent his feelings. 

“Hey!” Prime barked, “Don’t take your shit out on my ship! You break the door, I’ll break your arm.”

“Fuck you, asshole!” Rick snapped, “I hope that shit shatters!” 

“If that shit shatters, we’re both dead in the water and I’m not gonna die because you wanted to get a bag of shitty chips!” Prime punched Rick’s arm hard enough to leave an ache. 

“Ow!” Rick yelped as he twisted around on his seat to face his twin, “what the hell, dude! That fucking hurts!”

“That’s for slamming the door!” Prime growled, “keep it up and the next one will be on the kisser!” 

“I fucking hate it here!” Rick yelled out, face reddening with hot frustration. It wasn’t true. But the bitterness at being foiled over something that should have been a simple pick up, coupled with his twin’s unreasonable attitude had him lashing out angrily. Rick felt like kicking the footwell of the ship but the ache in his arm restrained him. He let out a disgruntled snarl instead, clenching his jaws together. 

“Oh yeah? If you hate it so bad, you can always leave.” Prime said sweetly, but his eyes flashed dangerously. Honeyed poison. He hovered a finger over the glowing red eject button located on the dashboard threateningly. “You wanna leave?”

Stars had surrounded them once more. Leaving was clearly a death wish at this point. 

“No.” Rick said sourly, arms crossed over his chest again. 

“That’s what I thought.” 

Prime didn’t bother turning on the radio to ease the tension. His knee bounced restlessly, knuckles white as they gripped the steering wheel. He piloted the ship hunched over and grouchy, exuding an aura of quiet murderous rage. 

The ship felt uncomfortably cramped— almost claustrophobic with the silent tension crackling between them. A muscle in Rick’s jaw jumped as he turned himself towards his window, physically angling himself away from his twin. He rubbed his arm discreetly, glowering out the window. Fucking hell, Prime could pack a punch. Rick could already tell he was going to find a fist shaped bruise later from the way his skin ached hotly. 

They sat like that for the next couple of hours in stony silence. There were no comments on interesting looking nebulae or space objects. There was not a single joke or word exchanged. The only sound was Prime’s finger tapping out an irritating beat against the handle. Rick would ask him to stop but that would require speaking to his twin and he absolutely refused to do that. 

Both Ricks mirrored an identical expression of sulky anger; brows furrowed deeply, corners of their lips tugging downward as their shoulders tensed into hard lines. 

By the time Prime had landed the ship in the familiar parking lot, Rick’s bottom lip was practically swollen from how much he’d been chewing on it in an effort to hold back his acidic vitriol. He kicked the door open— not even bothering to close it as he stalked towards the building angrily. He could hear Prime yelling something at him but Rick simply flipped him off without looking back. 

Rick jabbed in the 20 digit passcode rapidly, scanned his hand and stormed into the bedroom, locking the door behind him swiftly. Shucking off his labcoat, Rick dropped it on the floor without a second glance, kicking off his shoes as well.

Starlight streamed in through the bedroom window and Rick strode over to it, closing the blinds and plunging the room into semi-darkness to match his mood. He paced around the floor, back and forth as he nibbled on his thumbnail. His chest was hot and tight with pent-up anger. Rage bubbled in him like a bottle of shaken soda; pressure building with no real outlet. The room felt extra small today. Like a jail cell. It may as well have been. Rick was stuck out here, millions of miles away from home, no way to get back. 

He heard Prime enter the apartment— front door slamming shut loudly. Rick’s heart began to thunder in his chest; half expecting his twin to pound the bedroom door down, demanding to be let in. He steeled himself for a blistering confrontation— shaking with equal parts dread and savage anticipation— but no such thing happened. Prime began moving around in one of the rooms noisily, clearly ignoring him. 

They’d woken up in high spirits, laughing about something insignificant and chattering over where they’d go over a bowl of cereal excitedly. What happened? How did their day turn out… like this? All he wanted was a bag of chips! If Prime wanted something he wouldn’t let them rest until it was in his greedy hands. If Prime had no vested interest in it, it wasn’t worth pursuing. Fuck what Rick wanted, right? It wasn’t fair.  

Rick scowled, flinging himself onto their unmade bed face down, yelling wordlessly into his pillow until his throat felt raw.

Soft cotton quickly absorbed the hot pinpricks of wetness that seeped out of his eyes. Rick continued to lie face down until he couldn’t breathe before finally turning over, chest heaving. 

He stared at the ceiling, at the weird stain that sort of looked like a dick. The one they always laughed at while lying in bed together. Rick glared at it like it had caused him personal offence. He wished he could rewind time and forget this afternoon completely. 

Rick got under the covers, cocooning himself as he curled into a tight ball. Safe in the soft darkness, there was no way to tell whether he was in space or on Earth. It didn’t matter anyway. 

The angry knot in his chest gradually loosened and was replaced by bone weary exhaustion instead. 

Rick dreamed of his mama. The old kitchen he grew up in with the sunny terracotta tiles. Warmth. Comfort. Soft arms folding him into her aproned chest, stroking the top of his head softly while she croons to him in their native tongue. Her clever boy. He looks up, the stovetop towering over him as she stirs something rich and fragrant with spices. Bubbling cheerfully. Rick inhales deeply, smiling widely. ¡Mamá! His mama beams down at him. Bright as the afternoon sun spilling across the yellow walls. The wooden spoon that often raps him across the knuckles when he’s being naughty is being held out to him. Today it offers love and nourishment. He opens his mouth eagerly—

Rick woke from deep sleep. For a moment, he was back at home. His childhood home. Any moment now, mamá was going to come in and get him up for dinner. He was still half dreaming, stomach rumbling as the rich aroma from his dream filled his senses. He longed to fall back into the warm embrace of the dream but it was quickly leaving him like cupped water in his palms. Slowly, the room came into focus and he remembered where he was. Millions of miles away from Earth. Middle of bumfuck nowhere. Rick sat up slowly, rumpled and groggy with exhaustion but the knotted tension from early had left him completely. All that remained was a gnawing hunger. 

Swinging his legs out of bed, he sat perched on the edge, not quite ready to leave just yet. The argument from earlier crept back into his mind and Rick chewed his cheek, feeling his arm ache dully from where Prime had punched him earlier. He rubbed at it, scowling a little. He wasn’t ready to face Prime but his stomach was insistent— still worked up from the delicious scent in his dreams that was somehow still lingering. 

Fuck it.

Maybe he could quickly sneak into the kitchen and grab a snack. With any luck, Prime might be passed out high on the sofa, watching TV or something. 

He padded over to the door, unlocking it quietly but as he opened it, Rick found himself stunned, frozen with his nose in the air like a hound catching the scent of a fox. 

That smell. 

Warm. Rich. Aromatic. 

It washed over him fully, making his stomach rumble and his mouth water. It wasn’t his imagination. It was real. But how…?

Rick swallowed. He tracked the homely scent, following it as if in a trance, feeling like he was still dreaming. 

The apartment was unusually dark and there was a warm flickering light at the end of the corridor coming from the kitchen. 

“What the—“

Rick stood rooted by the entrance as he looked over their kitchen that had transformed in the few hours he’d been asleep. The messy kitchen table that was usually laden with half drunk mugs of coffee, stacks of blueprints and various half completed inventions had been cleared. In its place sat two bowls and a few burning candles that cast an orange glow over the kitchen. The sink which was usually overflowing with glassware from the lab was filled with actual dirty dishes and bowls. A pot simmered away on the stove, bubbling lightly on low heat; the source of the delicious aroma that was wafting through the entire apartment alluringly. Rick gawked at all of it, mouth parted slightly. He could count on one hand the amount of times they used the kitchen for its intended purpose. 

A pair of arms circled his waist, lips brushing against the back of his neck causing him to jump out of his train of thought. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

“Did you…” Rick swallowed hard, “did you do all this?” For me? The last two words were unspoken, but they hung in the air between them all the same. 

Prime made a noncommittal noise, his arms tightening around his twin. 

“Are you hungry?”

Rick nodded slowly, leaning back into his twin’s embrace. A small kiss was pressed into the side of his neck before he was released. 

Prime walked over to the fridge, bottles clinking as he opened it up. Yellow light pooled onto the floor briefly, illuminating his face. He pulled out two glass bottles by their necks, popping the tops off with his teeth before handing one to his twin. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Check the uh— check the cabinet over there. Food’s almost ready, by the way.” 

Rick went over to the aforementioned cabinet, setting his beer on the counter before pulling it open. He reached in, bringing one of the plastic bags closer to his face. It was hard to see with just candlelight but it only took a moment to recognise the brand. To his complete and utter astonishment, the shelf was filled with the chips he’d been looking for all afternoon 

“Y-you— when did you—?!” 

“I told you we had snacks at home.” Prime said gruffly, back turned to him as he stirred the pot. He had taken off his usual jacket, wearing his long sleeved brown shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. 

The bag crinkled loudly as Rick ripped into its contents eagerly, popping one in his mouth. Immediately, addictively hot, smoky spice tingled his tongue and Rick couldn’t resist crunching down a few more. He set the bag down on the table, not wanting to ruin his appetite for what his twin had made for them. Now it was his turn to wrap his arms around his twin’s middle for a quick squeeze before his hands drifted to rest on Prime’s hips lightly. He could feel the flavour heating up his cheeks and neck, the warmth spreading through his body. He pressed in closer, inhaling Prime’s comforting scent and the mouthwatering smell from the soup bubbling  heartily. All the animosity from the day melted away. 

“… Thanks,” Rick mumbled, the gratitude muffled against his twin’s back, barely audible. 

“Mm.” 

Rick peered over Prime’s shoulder to watch him stir the stew, making sure the bottom wasn’t burning. With only candlelight illuminating the kitchen, it was difficult to make out the contents of the pot. It could have been a witch’s cauldron from how dark the contents looked in this lighting. 

“It’s super dark in here,” Rick observed, “how can you see like this?” He reached up to turn on the stove light but Prime caught his hand, turning around.

“Don’t,” he laced their fingers together, “it’s fine.” 

Candlelight flickered in his twin’s eyes; twin flames dancing in an ocean of blue. Tipping Rick’s chin up with a finger, Prime kissed his twin on the lips tasting the cheap flavoured powder from the chips. 

“Yeah, they still taste like shit.” But unlike the chips, his words lacked any real heat. “Taste this, it’s way better than that garbage.” Prime grinned as he picked up the long wooden spoon, blowing on it a little to cool it off before offering it to his twin. 

Rick obediently opened his mouth to accept the spoonful of soup. 

The unmistakable rich, unctuous flavour of menudo spread over his tongue thickly and Rick closed his eyes; instantly transported back to his childhood. It was spicier than a conventional menudo. But it was perfect. Just the way he liked it. Rick swallowed around the lump in his throat. 

“Just like mamá makes, right?” Prime whispered quietly, watching Rick savour his cooking efforts with prideful delight. He leaned in for another kiss, stealing the flavour out of his twin’s mouth until Rick was left breathless. 

“Sit down, I’ll plate up.”

Rick picked up his beer from the counter, sipping as he watched his twin bustle around the kitchen, ladling the dark soup and throwing a couple of finishing garnishes on top of the food. He sat down on his side of the table, lips still buzzing from their spicy kiss, feeling completely bemused. He had no idea Prime was capable of cooking. They usually ordered take out, ransacked the local corner store for high calorie snacks or ate out at fast food chains. He never imagined his twin picking up a knife to cook rather than maim. 

“Eat up,” Prime set down a bowl of menudo down in front of him. Rick inhaled deeply, his stomach growling loudly. He could smell garlic, cilantro and other spices wafting up with the steam. Where did he get these things? He knew Earthly ingredients were notoriously expensive and hard to find, especially out here. Even KOI planets couldn’t quite replicate the taste of Earth’s resources completely. 

Rick picked up his spoon. The flickering candlelight made the dark chunky soup gleam and shine. Menudo never looked great, but it more than made up for its looks in flavour. Ugly delicious. He began to eat, making sure to get a good ratio of chopped onions and other fixings on his spoon. 

Instantly, the flavour of garlic, aromatic spices and tangy citrus hit his tongue and started warming his body from the inside out. Hunger seemed to increase twofold and Rick was ravenous. The crispy fresh ingredients contrasted delightfully with the soft, braised meat— tender from having been cooked for hours. It was hearty and healing. It was everything Rick never knew he needed. His cheeks pinkened slightly— from the heat of the chilis and… his twin’s unexpected thoughtfulness. Had he known? That Rick had been feeling homesick? Or had this all been one gigantic coincidence? Rick mulled on it as he ate, savouring the flavours of home. 

The table was quiet apart from the sound of chewing and spoons scraping against bowls, but it was an amicable, comfortable silence. 

When Rick had gotten halfway through his bowl, he stopped to take a break with a sip of cold beer. The intense spiciness had begun to creep up on him and his neck and ears felt warm— tongue tingling with heat. But Rick wouldn’t have it any other way. He sat back, regarding his twin with a content expression on his face. 

“Okay,” he said, “I have to ask. Where’d you get these ingredients? It can’t have been easy sourcing cilantro and cumin and all the other stuff.”

“Oh well, you know,” Prime shrugged, busy looking at his bowl, “just here and there. I got a— ah— uh— a pretty sweet deal on some meat. Picked up some stuff last time we stopped by Earth. No big deal.”

Prime spooned some more menudo into his mouth before he looked up, almost shyly like he was nervous about Rick’s reaction.  

“D’you—“ he cleared his throat, “do you…uh, like it?”

“It’s good,” Rick nodded, “really good. I—“ he hesitated, “you should— uh, you should make it more often. If you can. Of course.” 

“I mean,” Prime swallowed his mouthful, washing it down with a glug of beer, “it’s extremely time consuming to make. Not to mention getting all the right stuff takes a lot of effort and then there’s planning—“

“Yeah,” Rick said quickly, looking back down at his half eaten bowl, “I get it. It’s a lot—“

“—But if you want it, just tell me. I can make it happen.” Prime shrugged, leaning back in his chair as he ruffled the back of his head with one hand. 

“Really?” Rick looked up.

“Yeah,” Prime spoke to the bottom of Rick’s beer bottle on the table, “‘cause, you know,” he paused, rubbing his neck sheepishly, “… I miss mama’s cooking too, sometimes.”

There was a beat of silence after this admission and the pair chuckled together. Something in Rick’s heart eased and then swelled. 

“I didn’t even know you knew how to cook.” Rick said teasingly before spooning a large mouthful of stew into his mouth, biting into a chilli by accident. Instantly, his eyes watered, cheeks peppery hot as he swallowed the spicy mouthful. He quickly took another sip of his beer as a chaser, blinking back tears. 

“Hey! There’s a lot you don’t know about me. Anyway, I am the smartest man in the universe, after all. Name something I can’t do.” Prime grinned cockily before balling up his napkin and throwing it at his twin lightly. “You missed a spot, by the way.”

“What— where? Did I get it?” Rick licked around his burning mouth before attempting to wipe off whatever it was with the back of his hand only to feel his twin catch his wrist, pulling it away. 

“Here.” Prime caught the dribble with his thumb, slowly pushing it back and over the curve of Rick’s lip and into the soft heat of his mouth. 

Rick’s mouth tingled as his twin pressed his thumb into his tongue gently causing saliva to well up around the intrusion. He swallowed, inadvertently sucking the tip of Prime’s finger, feeling it drag over his teeth as it left him too soon. Heat flooded him as he dazedly watched his twin suck his thumb clean of himself. He wasn’t sure if it was the chillis or something else that was making him pant lightly. 

“Eat your food,” Prime smirked, catching the flushed look on his twin’s face. 

Rick blushed, bending his head to quickly shovel the remains of his dinner into his mouth. 

The candlelight was dwindling, struggling to stay alive in the melting wax as the candles reached their stumpy limits. 

Still, the kitchen never felt warmer or brighter. The pair found themselves leaning in closer over the cramped table— two stars orbiting one another, powerless to their combined gravitational pull. 

Even after they’d finished and pushed their bowls to the side, they still lingered at the table— sipping out of mostly empty bottles of beer, talking about nothing and everything in between. Neither of them wanted to burst the fragile bubble of serenity this meal had brought them. 

But finally, when the last candle fizzled out, Rick sat back and stretched, sated and relaxed. 

“I’ll wash up.” 

“Oh— uh,” Prime sat up hastily, “that’s okay. I’ll do it. There’s a lot of stuff to wash and I wouldn’t wanna—“

“Why? You cooked so, it’s only fair, right? I don’t mind.” Rick stood up and carefully began clearing the table, squinting as he stacked their empty bowls. “God, it’s really dark in here, huh.” 

He walked over to the light switch in the corner. 

“Wait—!” Prime nearly tripped out of his chair, bumping the table loudly as he lunged for his twin. “Don’t—“

“What?” Rick turned around as the kitchen lights flooded the area starkly. “What the—“ 

Rick’s eyes widened as he stared down at the empty bowls of menudo in his hand, streaked with blue. In fact, he could see a bunch of the dishes in the sink were also covered in an unfortunately familiar shade of blue. 

“Dude,” he started, “tell me that’s not the—“

“God,” Prime rolled his eyes, huffing out a breath of air with his hands on his hips, “I told you not to turn the lights on! I knew you’d be such a baby about it.” 

“When you said you had a sweet deal on meat, you meant—“ Rick paled as nausea twisted his stomach. 

“I mean,” Prime flung his hands into the air, “what was I supposed to do? Leave the bodies to rot in the lab forever? What a waste. At least this way we can get rid of the bodies and save space and get free protein. This is a three birds one stone sitch! You have to appreciate that! It’s an extremely economical solution to a—”

“Have you learned nothing from putting alien things in our bodies?” Rick demanded, one hand on his hip.

“Relax, it’s totally fine,” Prime shushed him, “everyone knows heat kills germs and this stuff’s been boiling for hours!”

“…” Rick stared at his twin incredulously, not knowing what to say. “I’m going back to bed,” he said finally, feeling a bit ill as he set the bowls on the counter. He turned to walk out the kitchen. 

“Sure you don’t want seconds?” Prime called out to him, “You looked like you were really enjoying it!”

“No!”

“Okay, we can have it for breakfast tomorrow, then!” 

[wordy-little-witch]

Is it bad to want to see more of Ghost Roger shenanigans? Because now that the man knows he can talk to the living world... The conversations, Perona is getting so many stories about Buggy and Shanks as children. Poor Buggy

OUGH yes absolutely give me an excuse to write about this bc it's so silly and it's arguably one of my most favorite things ever aaaaaa

Roger is just SO excited, and while he does have HUGE Girl Dad energy, he's hitting all the Dad Points. He's a Capital D Dad. The D in Gol D Roger stands for DAD and I cannot articulate this enough. It's hilarious. He's an idiot. He made so many mistakes but he always always ALWAYS did his best to do right by his kids and he loved them with every cell in his body. He was the type of parent who would have a wallet solely for the opportunity to flip it open dramatically and unroll a mile long strip of baby photos.

Even being dead won't stop him from gushing about his sons and embarrassing them.

Perona ultimately becomes his main focus because Fresh Meat, and she's just gobbling this up. They're mutually trying desperately to figure out how to get ghost pictures into the physical world. She has all the tea.

Up to and including walking up to Buggy one day during a cross guild meeting, no regard whatsoever for the "uncute and stuffy vibe" to instead redirect focus onto the Important Stuff.

"Hey Buggy, did you really once dress in drag ad a child to get free food at Fishman island"

Crocodile chokes on his cigar. Mihawk damn near does a spit take. Buggy just sighs.

"Yeah."

"Are there pictures"

"Somewhere probably"

"Can I h-"

"No"

"Booo you're mean! Grandpa Roger said I could"

Buggy then manages to somehow snort and gasp, coughing harshly as his whiskey drips from his nose. "GRANDPA WHO?!?!?!"

Meanwhile Roger is floating in the upper corner in full gremlin pose as he cackle like the menace he is. ((And no he does not flinch when Buggy side eyes him aggressively while cleaning his face.... he just..... decided suddenly and with no particular reason to avoid his clown child's room for the next three to five business weeks. Pranks can be played elsewhere. No, he isn't scared of his most unhinged child.... of course not............ ((the old scar from a tiny mouth clamping on his ankle aches a little, but he's very good at ignoring things))))

All of this is, ofc, not even touching on the hijinks the kids got up to together. Perona has SO much blackmail!!!

[hyusolk]

all credit and love to rin (@lokislytherin) for this FUCKING GENIUS IDEA -> jay becomes the assistant and is training with the random hot doctor dude from ch 431

[thatonesillyducko]

CoD Ghosts OC: 𝐄𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝⭑.ᐟ - About⟢

Took @stargazing-sapphire2 permission to use Ashford surname and I DID IT��️🫵🫵 enjoy my buddy

⛧| Name: Emmanuel "Phantom" Benjamin Ashford 

⛧| Birth date: 29th February 2001 (LEAP YEAR BABY) (Hesh and Logan are clowning on him 💀)

⛧| Nationality: American 

⛧| Occupation: U.S. Army/Task Force STALKER

⛧| Rank: Sergeant (might change..)

⛧| Age: 26 (in 2027), 29 (in 2030) ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ᯓ★Affiliation(s):

── .✦Family/Relatives:

•Henry Ashford - Father (Alive)

•Helena Rorke - Mother (Deceased, KIA)

•Elizabeth and Evangeline Ashford - Twin sisters (Alive)

•Gabriel Rorke - Uncle (Alive)

•Julianne Foster - Paternal grandmother (Deceased)

•George Ashford - Paternal grandfather (Deceased)

•Marie Henrikson - Maternal grandmother (Deceased)

•Samuel Rorke - Maternal grandfather (Deceased)

── .✦Ghosts team: 

•Elias "Scarecrow" Walker 

•David "Hesh" Walker

•Logan Walker (Unknown, MIA)

•Thomas A. Merrick

•Keegan P. Russ

•Alex "Ajax" Johnson (KIA)

•Kick

•Riley (the goodest of all good boys)

•Jemíma "La Sombra" Ámbar del Mar Hernández 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ᯓ★Appearance: 

⛧| Hair color: Light brown

⛧| Eye color: Blue (Bro might be a carbon copy of his dad but has his mother’s eyes🗣️🗣️)

⛧| Height: 6’4 (tallest of all Ghosts..even his dad) ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ᯓ★Personality:

⛧| N/A (Sorry, stand by :( ) ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ᯓ★Background: (more to improve soon..)

── .✦⛧| Emmanuel was born on February 29, 2001 on the Camp Pendleton base in California to Henry Ashford and Helena Ashford (neé Rorke). Making him the younger brother of Beth and Eva.

── .✦⛧| Growing up, he was a calm and quiet kid, but also curious, trying to learn everything. He is unquestionably a mama's boy because he was glued to his mother's hip from the beginning. Until..In 2011, When Helena was killed in action while deployed Emmanuel was 10 years old, both Beth and Eva were 12 years old, Henry was left to care for his children with the assistance of their uncle, Gabriel Rorke.  ── .✦⛧| Despite not having a mother, Emmanuel would continuously attempt to speak or interact with Henry, but he was unable to do so due to emotional neglect. He also observed a clash between Beth and Eva, his sisters. The small boy feels hurt and upset by Beth's fury directed at Eva while she defends herself, but despite all of this drama, he at least has a grey stuffed animal to console him for big emotions.

── .✦⛧| The ODIN strikes happened in 2017, and the Ashford residence was among the many buildings damaged that day. The little family of four lost everything, including their pets and precious things. Shortly after the ODIN strikes, aged 16 he would eventually enlist into the military, much to the reluctance and chagrin of Henry. (mf literally was unlucky enough both to survive the ODIN attack and not being able to leave the destroyed territory)

ᯓ★Trivia:

── .✦⛧| This young boy used to play practical jokes on his sisters to try to cheer them up and make them get along, but it didn't work out for Beth, so he ended up growing closer to Eva than she did.

── .✦⛧| Helena’s death left him devastated. He keeps a little photo of his mother beneath the helmet where it is worn.

── .✦⛧| Emmanuel adores Riley, who spoils the dog with food, cuddle pets, and long walks when Hesh or Logan are not around. Though, he also has sentimental memories of his own pets, whom he actually lost by ODIN attacks 

ᯓ★Faceclaim:

⛧| Zac Efron

[renskiii-10]

went to my best friend's house to do art, left with nothing but STUNNING mugshots

[looselipssinkships-x]

Patrick "im not a singer" stump (tttyg) -> patrick *opens a song entitled heavens gates acapella* stump (mania)

[ceilidho]

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did and let me love you anyway” I saw this Edgar Allen Poe quote on tiktok and you immediately came to mind bc genuinely I feel like you’d be one of the only writers to do it justice, ESPECIALLY if it were a ghost prompt. This totally isn’t a request btw. I just wanted to share. Something about your writing style, how you write angst and Big Emotions made me think of you when I saw that

😭😭😭😭 that’s too kind………thank you for being so nice!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘 oh if only I were patient enough and confident enough and seasoned enough to write a true hurt/comfort + angst story…….im literally such a baby though…..that’s a goal for the future though

[yakultii]

no don't delete the main blog

also also been meaning to message u that i LOVE this blog bc everytime i see ur posts im always like yes yes thats me so ty for making me feel less alone when i'm having my regular every other day break down and like yes someone else knows but also it makes me happy when you post abt finally going out and im like yes yes i should do that too and the world isnt so bad maybe. the weather is nice yes

holy shit i love you so fucking much. no because the world can actually be so beautiful ! i mean personally i’ve been blessed with being born in aus with so much opportunity for joy if only i can get outside my mind or find a way to change it or work with it which sucks bc for some of us it’s not so easy but i really think it’s worth trying even if i keep trying until the day i die because otherwise there is no chance. and if i die first at least i tried. i hope you keep trying too even if you have to rest and give up at some point of almost every day cause everything feels hopeless (i do) that’s ok as long as you get back out there and try again cos why not ? you were made to be in the world rn and you should get to feel its beauty too <3

[alwaysinstyle]

A Long-Overdue RANT Girlies Appreciation Post

Tonight feels like the perfect night to tell you how much I love you all, and I apologize in advance for the length of this post.

~ Nina ~

My precious Pastel Woods outfit hype-woman who’s always ready to Style Carry™️ me onto the battle field, deceive the enemies with her iconic mermaid hair extensions and then KICK SOME ASS for the both of us. Darling, if your Pinterest board is any indication, you have me absolutely figured out and it is both hilarious and iconic. You are for real my Kenny-coded friend’s evil twin and I know without a doubt that you two would go full GTA mode on the NPC bad drivers to bring me an iced coffee (from ANYWHERE but the Bad Vibes Café). Speaking of which, I hoping you’re treating yourself to an iced chai, because you deserve it, you gorgeous and talented REAL author who I adore. Thanks for climbing up on stilts to give me a kiss on the cheek whenever I’m feeling down. Your constant kind words mean so much to me and yes, you did make me cry actual tears when you called me your IRL Superhero. Your dear Wal-Mart Taylor Swift sends all the love in the world.

~ Teri ~

Scary Teri, my favorite Ten Ferrets Stacked in a Trench Coat, my fellow road rage gal who loves screaming in the car as much as I do. I can’t even tell you how much I appreciate you for biting the bullet and being the Cartman friend with whom I can make THE darkest jokes and tell THE darkest stories (and, of course, exchange graphic jump-scare surgery pics) without scaring you away. At the end of it all, you still tell me I’m vibrant and resilient, and that warms my heart more than I can express. Thank you for allaying my fears of becoming a Cynical Asshole (formal diagnosis as you all know). Thank you for making me feel strong when I feel weak. I look forward to many, many more unhinged conversations and overly analytic beta reads of your spectacular fics. I do, in fact, still expect to receive a package containing the buckets of tears I have harvested through Hourglass.

~ Riley ~

My dearest WARRIOR, sword-wielding protector Riley, co-sponsor of the Style Carry™️ who makes me spontaneously combust with everything she writes. We come together to form one joint Whump Deity as the Queen of Injury Fics and the Queen of Sickfics, and I love that everyone on ao3 GENUINELY lumps us together as one being. I don’t blame them since we really do be sharing one brain cell. It kicks ass being each other’s target audience because even with our most self-indulgent shit, mark my worms, the other WILL be absolutely blended. Whenever I’m feeling down, you’re ALWAYS locked and loaded with lizard pics and not to mention graphic illness and injury for my viewing pleasure. Your fics, bedtime stories and sneak peeks that are ALWAYS tacitly solicited bring me such an incredible amount of joy. I mean it. It was the sweet siren call of OJV that brought me to Tumblr in the first place. I am so glad to have come to the dark side and to have become a RANT girly, and I owe that all to you. You are the heart of RANT, dear. Without you we’re just ANT, and ants aren’t even that cool. Thank you so very much for being the ultimate hype gal, for being THE world’s best commenter, for reminding me to take care of Ye Olde Flesh Prison when I’m being terrible about it, and for worrying about me when I’m too stubborn to worry about myself. Your support means the world to me, my dude. Our chats and headcanon dumps have actually been the grounding force keeping me sane (ironically, since we’re so insane about Style). Keep kicking ass and avoiding creepy pizza men, okay? I love you so much and I love being NOT normal together.

@1moreoffkeyanthem @asteria7fics @boxwinebaddie

All three of you, and everyone else on this crazy website who makes me smile, THANK YOU.

[hier--soir]

my cl!t has once again gone numb with the help of ALP

I KNOW THATS RIGHT🗣️

[uhohdad]

Been listening to your spotify playlist for TGWCTM on repeat since you posted it. Practically tells a story itself T_T so good.

you’re so slay for that i was really wondering who that was for lmaoo <3 <3 <3

playlist if ya nasty

[aceforwhatevenisthis]

OC-Tober 2023 Day 2: New OC

Sevyn my silly little guy with identity issues, how i love you so

They're my current DND character who's a changeling, you can imagine how that's going

[arsenicstrudel]

💞🙂‍↕️