#maybe go talk to Mortis too that tree knows what he’s talking about

[ward-against-blight]

This is my first time doing any of the new wizard city side quests, and I don’t know if anyone else has done Duncan’s but

Good LORD!

His new voice actor really sells it, he’s legit devastated when he finds out Malistaire really did turn on wizard city.

Before I kinda laughed at him because of the cabal nonsense but now I just feel b a d. This kid needs some decent male role models in his life, and unfortunately wizard city is in short supply.

We’ve got homicidal necromancer, grandpa war crimes, Actual Owl™️, and man who definitely doesn’t have the temperament to be in the education field (ily Cyrus but it’s true)

At this point his best option is goddamn Halston Balestrom! Go take some storm classes Duncan, might be good for you idk-

[lovinglyerica]

Rick and Morty ... and Erica!

Basically this is all based around the premise that I get famous off my autobiographical film and it is as good as I picture it to be. For context, the end of my film is about me selling my soul to the devil with The Deal by Mitski playing in the background. I'm not going to go into detail about it as if it does get made and a lot of people like the shitty conceptual ideas (as that is mainly what it is), then I don't want my movie to be completely spoiled IF it gets made but one take away before I begin is the lyric from the song "Your pain is eased but you'll never be free" which could kinda refer to Rick but not really. Let's commence forth:

Basically, the first scene in first episode is Rick and his wife sitting under a tree, with his Rick going on a tangent about his work and while his wife seems interested in it, she implies more emphasis on Rick's Character before the title screen appears. The whole first episode is about my movie in the sense that everyone is kind of talking about it at first, which again is just my conception of how big I think it will be. I'm not a screen writer especially for Rick and Morty but essentially it starts off with Morty not shutting up about how nuanced it was even on a classic Rick and Morty adventure with him even going up to someone I picture in like kind of a bar scene who is an alien, making reference to it, maybe even with Rick going to shut him up as it's like a hostile place but the alien agrees with Morty that it was a good movie and referencing the dream sequence where I eat ... stuff.

Rick finally gets fed up enough that he agrees to Morty's pleading to go see it at the midpoint of the episode, and it shows Rick at the theater throughout the film at first being indifferent, maybe even seeming aggravated, before slowly growing to like it and before eventually being flabbergasted by the ending. Him and Morty, leave the theater with Rick's mouth being agape and Morty asking if he liked it with Rick responding "Uh... yeah, it was pretty good". Rick then slowly takes Morty's place of being obsessed with it. They even see the alien at the bar again, and Rick tries to talk to him about the movie to which the alien responds it's basically old news, to which Rick gets defensive and starts a bar fight. Then the episode proceeds with Morty getting annoyed by Rick constantly talking about it and suggests he seeks me out. Rick agrees to the idea and begins stress drinking. He eventually gets drunk enough to get the courage to talk to me. He then tries going to my house with my bodyguard at the intercom outside my house saying that Rick is just blasted and I'm not taking visitors. Rick begins arguing before leaving defeated. He then stops at a local bar and sits down, before I sit next to him. He panics and begins trying to say everything at once while slurring coming off as weird and creepy so I say "Fuck off you old cunt!" and I punch him in the stomach which leads to a full out bar brawl leading to cops getting called and the last thing Rick sees before he passes out is me getting tackled and arrested by the police. Then the episode ends.

In the next episode, Rick wakes up at the bar eventually leading him to calling the president leading to him pardoning me. He then meets me outside the jail, picking me up in his ship which leads to him calling me a bitch and an argument ensues before we reach my house and he ejects me from his ship. Later on, I show up at his house with him asking how I figured out where he lives to which I say "I know people too ... Rick".

From here I'm not too sure about the details but I know I want the themes to be about Rick's abandonment of Morty for me which I try to get Morty to come along but Rick typically dissuades me. On top of that I want to focus on Rick as a character through his past before the Prime Rick incident, which has similarities to mine such as getting expelled from school for tardiness and convincing his wife to run away with him. Of course there is tension between me and Rick with me saying "ya know, if you weren't a disgusting old man, I would've married you" to which he responds "and maybe if you didn't have a dick I'd fuck you" and this is the main reason for his attachment to me because I remind him of his deceased wife. But on top of that I have some new ideas such as for the portal gun where it gains a button to send objects across space instead of people by using the liquid from the portal gun to wrap around an object and an important plot device known as Universal Radio which is a radio which its signal can travel across universes, always keeping me and Rick in contact. However I also want some previous plot points to return such as the Morty as a camouflage thing where since Rick keeps abandoning Morty for me, his brainwaves are now detectable, detectable by a rebuilt Galactic Federation who become the main antagonist of the season.

I have ideas that naturally come to me but what comes to me the clearest is the ending, and I think you'll like this. After a battle with Federation in the previous episode, Rick, Morty, Space Beth and I return back to their house after one of the generals says something ominous about Rick's family and in the final episode to find it's been raided and it turns out the family has been kidnapped ... by Krombopulos Michael who states that he has no ill intention against Rick but the Federation just paid him more. Morty asks Rick why Michael is still alive if this universe is the same as the one they left to which I ask why if there is an infinite amount of universes and with his scouting technology he couldn't find a one that is exactly the same. Rick gets frustrated and admits that there is no such thing as the "Infinite Rick". He says that even though portal technology can instantaneously reach places, it only has so far of a reach to the universe in which it was built as that is in it's initial programming and has to do with the liquid as it is tied to each individual universe, essentially explaining it as a circle that only reaches so far and even implying going outside the circle causes problems in space as all the universes mirror each other eventually at some point and if two Ricks meet that are on the same trajectory in the sense that they are mirrored to each other, the implications are unknown. He stops explaining and just states that most of it is a NP = P problem and adding that he killed so many ricks in his initial circle that there is hardly any to replace that don't have evolutional boundaries such as not using the letter M. I eventually make a meta-joke about all the exposition before Rick says "I have a plan"

I'm not to sure about the details from here but it eventually leads to a confrontation with Krombopulos Micheal who is not inside the military base of the Galactic Federation which is essentially and giant cube larger than Earth but on a nearby moon and in the end when Rick thinks he's been defeated but also has Michael in a defeating position closes his eyes and begins firing randomly. He then opens his eyes and notices he was not shot, but I was acting as a human shield. He then bends over me and his portal gun falls out his hand and lands next to me. I tell him I can't move and I'm going to die. Confused Rick runs not around not knowing where Michael's ship is that has Beth, Jerry, and Summer. Before he returns to notice I'm not there. The song I picked for this scene is Homage by Mild High Club as not only is it referential but it also speaks about how everything has been done before sort of mirroring the multi-universal aspect of Rick and Morty but also the cliched way I'm about to die.

The final conversation goes like this (best with the song):

Shows me putting CD in Ricks CD Player and {song begins}

Shows Rick pulling out his Universal Radio

"Erica where the hell are you and my portal gun and ship!?"

"Well I didn't exactly want to spoil the Surprise but ... Look up"

{Lyrics begin}

Shows Ricks ship rocketing toward what appears to be thousands of Galactic Federation ships. Inside the ship from the perspective of the passenger seat. E has the radio in her hand and has one hand behind the head rest, one hand on the steering wheel with blood cover her shirt and coming out her mouth

Rick "ERICA WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, DON'T YOU REALIZE YOU'RE GOING TO GET KILLED! YOU LIED ABOUT NOT BEING ABLE TO MOVE?!"

Erica "Yeah that uh... happens sometimes"

Cut to Rick on the moon

Erica "And also I'm going to destroy the core of the Galactic Federation base"

Rick "Listen, get your ass back down here! There's no reason to be a Martyr!"

Erica "Oh shut the fuck up. If I was gonna die here it might as well be for something that mattered!"

Cuts to the space ship flying erratically destroying Federation ships. Cuts to a front windshield view and shows E whipping the steering wheel one handed. Cuts to a back view of the driver seat.

Rick "You have my portal gun and ship! I'm fucking stuck here without them!"

Erica "Do I have to spell it out for you? Use Michael's ship dumbass."

{instrumental mid section of song begins}

Cuts to rick on the moon

Erica "You gotta tell everyone that I stole your ship and portal gun because I was a coward and a traitor."

Rick "What? Why?"

Erica "Because it's easier that way. I was gonna die for you and your family will never hate you but they'll hold that shit over your head for the rest of your life man. I put your family in danger and for next couple of minutes I'm alive I'll never forgive myself for it"

{2nd verse starts}

Cuts to Rick's ship spinning around in circles. Cut to a blast blowing a hole in the back part of the ship. Inside the ship a siren begins going off

Erica "Fuck. But listen to me on this cocksucker. I know got this bullshit beef with whatever created you but..."

Cut to Rick

Rick "I already told you E, My god is the biggest asshole that never existed!"

Cut to passenger seat view of E

Erica "FUCK YOU! WHATEVER MADE YOU RICK GAVE YOU A BRAIN BIG ENOUGH SO YOU COULD SEE YOUR FAMILY AGAIN! DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'D GIVE TO SEE MY GREAT GRANDMA AGAIN AND APPRECIATE HER LIKE I NEVER DID! SOMETHING GAVE YOU THAT CHANCE RICK! NOT MY GOD BUT YOURS SO FUCK YOU..."

Cut to Ricks radio

"... YOU OLD CUNT!"

Shows the ship slowly going toward an extremely bright light. Cut to Erica from front window view

Erica "But ya know something, There are an infinite number of universes out there, but I could never imagine one with you Rick. I'm sending something your way"

{Song starts to rise but before it finishes ...}

The Galactic Federation base blows up making plasma shoot out in a ring

Cut to Rick wide eyed looking up before a portal noise is heard and Rick looks up and holds out his hands catching E's last pack of Huskie Red Cigarettes

Rick then proceeds to find his family and tells them exactly what I told him to tell them taking credit for blowing up the Federation, though exactly how he would accomplish this without his ship or portal gun I'm not sure. They are all thrown in a rage demanding he go after me, all except Jerry. Rick refuses and they all pile in Michael's ship and head home. Rick goes to the garage and Jerry comes in and confronts Rick saying that he knows I wouldn't do that and I'm dead. He denies it but eventually begins screaming at Jerry to "get the fuck out of here". He pulls out the last pack of cigarettes. He packs it and opens it and begins smoking one then going to flashback right after his family died and sitting on top of bird-persons house. They have a discussion about how Rick will never be satisfied even if he does kill prime Rick and "as they say in your world 'an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind'". It then plays a montage over f song by strawberry guy of Rick returning to his normal life with Morty before it shows him staring at the stars smoking my last cigarette before throwing the empty pack over the fence, lowering his head almost in defeat and heading back inside.

And that's all she wrote! Please Lambast me in the comments and send all your vitriol my way! Thank you

[alicelyttle]

fearnomorty:

Anytime Morty saw Alice, whether it was a dream or reality, he felt lighter — like all the baggage he held suddenly faded away, or if it did still linger, the weight of it just didn’t matter anymore. Just a few moments ago, Morty had felt riddled with anxiety as he wandered this unfamiliar, colorful forest, but as he realized Alice was there, it was as if a cloud of clarity suddenly formed above him. “Yeah, you’re my favorite thing to dream about,” he answered simply, as if any other answer wouldn’t make any logical sense. He failed to mention how not all the dreams were pleasant though, how sometimes Alice would be in his nightmares and only scared him further, because he knew none of that was real. Alice was the one person, the one thing in his life that was untouched by the insane bullshit that always followed him. Especially when looking at Morty’s list of failed relationships over the years, most (if not all) of them ended because of something related to Rick — he’d been lucky enough this far that Alice remained safe from his grandpa’s outside influences. Morty felt his heart flutter as she claimed to be real, but he still wasn’t completely sure. Though this dream did feel more real than any other (he’d had a few random lucid dreaming moments, but nothing like this), he still had a sliver of doubt; it had been a while since Alice came into his dreams, so it wasn’t that easy for him to pinpoint differences and confirm she really was there. As his heart fluttered in excitement at her words despite his doubt, Morty suddenly worried about waking himself up by mistake from the excitement. His hands squeezed hers to keep himself in the moment, her skin so soft and warm… What if this really was her? “I-I-I just got here,” Morty sputtered as he met her gaze, searching for some sort of sign that would clue him into her realness. He did just move to an entirely new dimension, but what were the chances it was hers? “I’ve been traveling all over the place, I-I kinda just ended up here.” Alice’s eyes seemed to sparkle with curiosity, and all he could do was hope this really was true. After everything he’s gone through, it was no wonder that he struggled to differentiate reality and fantasy. In hopes of figuring out whether this was truly Alice or not, he asked in both a literal and dream sense, “…. Where are we, exactly?”

Hearing him say that she was his favorite thing to dream about so easily and casually brought a blush to her face and a giggle she could only barely contain. She didn’t think he was trying to flirt, but he could say such romantic things without trying to. Maybe because he wasn’t trying to—Alice knew Morty had a tendency to stumble over his words when he got too into his head, but he said she was his favorite so naturally, like he hadn’t had to think about it at all. It was just true.

When he asked where they were, Alice looked around at the colorful trees that surrounded them as far as the eye could see in any direction. “It reminds me of the Tulgey Wood. You can’t find your way in there, because none of the ways belong to you.” She knew some of her anecdotes from her adventures could sound a little strange, like she wasn’t all there when recollecting the far-off places she had visited and the (sometimes seemingly backwards) laws of logic that governed those dimensions, but Morty was the one person she had ever met who didn’t mind at all. In fact, his own tales were more outlandish (and often more miserable) than hers, so she was comfortable speaking without filter around him, knowing he understood what it was like. “It’s brighter here, though,” she added cheerfully. And seeing as they had nowhere else to go…

“We should sit and talk before one of us wakes up.” She pulled him toward one of the trees to settle in at its mossy base. Now that she knew they were in the same dimension, Alice didn’t want to waste any time setting up a meeting time and location in the waking world. If this dream ended before they agreed on when and where to meet, they might have to go out of their way to track each other down—or wait until she could find her way back into his dreams, which hopefully wouldn’t take too long, but it was the timing of the matter…If she didn’t know when he was sleeping, she wouldn’t know when to go looking for him…Perhaps she was just a little impatient to meet him in person once again. Having confirmation that he was really here in her home world was beyond exciting. Meeting here and there in their respective travels was one thing, but having him here in her own dimension felt ever more solid. “I live on Destiny Isle. Are you anywhere nearby?”

[royalsunshinehotel]

i have a request for Hassan if you’re taking them!! maybe it’s been a long ass day (as it always is in the crock pot), and he needs a bit of “stress relief” wink wink,,, basically just kinda rough and possessive,,, already on the floor thinking about it tbh😳

10:49PM (Sheriff Hassan x Fem!reader, 18+)

A/N: I looked up some halal sodas and Shasta was the first one that came up. Love me some Shasta. If this is incorrect, please let me know.

The schedule in Crockett was something Hassan had yet to get used to. As the Sheriff, his day would start at 4:00AM, and wrap up at 9:00PM, depending on if there'd been a kitten stuck in a tree that day or not. Not that he'd be trusted with that responsibility.

It was a massive culture shock coming from New York. Harsher than he'd like to admit. Being a native to the city, the sounds had become a part of his life, and he missed the noise.

It was stressful, and he felt shame for being stressed about how quiet Crockett was. That was supposed to be a good thing, and here he was, anxious that he couldn't hear a fire truck from 12 blocks away.

But, like most things in his life, there wasn't much to be done.

And it's not like the hours were bad. Hassan didn't mind a late night, but the general store was open until 11PM. This left whoever was working, alone for about two hours.

Now he knew that Morty, the owner of the store, and Annie Flynn were capable of handling themselves.

And then there's you.

Lovely, gracious, and alone for two hours. He didn't know you well enough to feel comfortable judging if you could "handle yourself" or not, but the idea of you walking home that late made his skin crawl. Even in a small town, there's always something hiding under a rock, waiting for a chance to strike. There's always something hiding in the dark, he thinks.

He thought about you a lot.

After praying with Ali, and making sure his son was set for bed, he headed out.

His commute is exactly a 6 minute drive, and he wonders as he sits in the car, if he's hiding in the dark. If he's the thing you should worry about.

Hassan's shoves the thought down, because of fucking course not. This is exactly why he couldn't stand the quiet, because you could hear yourself think, and he didn't want to do too much of that these days.

So, being the good detective he was, he looked over the facts

He thinks about how you greet him with a full smile every morning, and the small talk he's come to look forward to. You were one of the only people who did, and he was grateful.

"How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

"Ah, not so bad."

One of those days he was going to beat you to the punch and say "how are you?" first, but something told him you wouldn't accept that.

And there was that one time he walked into his office a few minutes late. Beverly Keane had stormed out of the general store, and Hassan waited a little longer in his car to avoid the town’s least favorite.

When he got in through the front door, he inhaled sharply. You were clearly in distress, eating some sour straws, sitting on the floor in the corner. The tears on your face spoke for themselves, as you mumbled, “How are you?” same as always.

;pAnnie came around, looking uncharacteristically ruffled.

“What happened?” He snapped, maybe a little too harshly. Annie bent down to sit with you, urging you to drink your water in the way only mothers do.

"oh, Bev was just being Bev, and things got a little heated." She tried to dismiss, voice an octave too high for it to be “Bev being Bev.”

“Fucking..xenophobic… cunt…fucker” You mumbled as you sipped on your water.

“What?” He asked, not sure he’d heard you right. Annie shooed him away, and he went, letting you recover from Beverly Keane at your own time unsupervised.

And the last piece of evidence he’d acquired was thin, circumstantial at best.

When Hassan first moved into his new office, the fridge from the previous, now deceased occupant had been filled with soda.

Not just any soda. Sprite, and Shasta.

Now Hassan hadn’t had soda in years, but he found it a little bit odd that two of the few Halal brands of soda were ready and waiting for him in his workplace.

He dismissed it then, it’s just a coincidence.

Except he’d been wrong, it was you.

The tall man blinks, and frees himself from that train of thought, remembering what exactly he was there to do.

The yellow lights of the general store were still blazing against the cold blue of the night, and he could see you resting against the cash register, reading your book.

Stop staring, he told himself, before taking a breath, and getting out of his car. He’s not going to think about the way you perked up when you saw him. He was probably imagining it anyway.

“Hey!” You greeted, just as chipper as you’d been that morning. He nods to you as a greeting, and gets to the point.

“How about a french exit?” You blink, he sounds breathless, which wasn’t a tone you’d heard on him before.

“What would the town think if I shirk my duties?” You bat your eyes in an attempt to

“They’ll say anyone buying candy past 10pm is a degenerate,” replies Hassan, completely deadpan. You snort.

“Maybe they’ll make an ordinance about it!” You exclaim, not putting it past Beverly Keane to do such a thing.

The two of you laugh for a moment, when Hassan gets to his point.

“Seriously, how about I drive you home?”

The mere thought of the two of you alone in his car sent a lovely prickle down your spine.

“Yeah…Yeah I’ll lock up, I'll just be a minute.” Hassan smiles at you, and waits on the porch. You scramble to lock everything and turn off all the lights while not making a sound he could detect from outside.

Taking a deep breath, you open the front door to the general store, and lock it behind you, walking in sync with Hassan, letting him open his car door for you. He waits an extra second to make sure your long sweater doesn’t get caught in the door, before shutting it behind you.

You start to hear your heart pound in your ears, as Hassan comes around and gets in the driver's seat.

“10 whole minutes early, how do you feel?”

“Like the law is a bad influence,” you snipe back, feeling a smile bubble to the surface.

“They blame me for the bad weather, I’ll take this too.” He jokes.

“Where do you live?” Asks Hassan, trying to seem calm, but he’s watching every move you make like he’s trying to memorize it.

“Yellow house on Apricot Drive. You’ve passed it before.” Hassan froze for a moment, thinking about how it must have looked. But it wasn’t as if he waited outside your house to see you, he just noticed that was somewhere you lived. It was something he was aware of. A fact.

“It’s a small town ” You shrug it off, letting him breathe again.

“Right.”

Hassan has a small smile on his face while he starts the car, driving a little bit slower than he normally would.

The ride itself is silent, and you have to be proud of yourself that you didn’t reach over and sink your teeth into him. Everything in this car is just so Hassan, how could you sit here and act normal?

“So, how are you adjusting?” You start, trying to ignore the fact that this car was so him. Clean, organized, and somehow comfortable and warm. There’s a scent in the air that you couldn’t quite place, but it was sweet somehow.

“Six months is a long time.” You continue, trying to keep your typical tone, as if you weren’t overwhelmed.

“It’s…alright.” He replies, wondering if you notice exactly how tightly he’s gripping the wheel.

“Yeah, at least we have fish though.”

“I hate fish,” hums your driver, completely deadpan.

You break into a cackle, “oh my god! What are you doing here?” You can clearly see a flash of teeth in the dark

Hassan only sighs, before taking the final turn onto your street, pulling up to the curb and turning off the car. You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there, in a comfortable silence you can only find after 8pm.

“We need to talk more.” You state, eyes on your hands.

“We do.”

“I like talking to you.”

“Same here, really.”

“Hassan?”

“Hm?”

“Would you like some coffee?” You question, tone light.

Your body doesn’t react quick enough, but Hassan’s hand is warm against your cheek, tilting your face towards his.

Things seem to move in slow motion, as you feel a soft brush of his lips against yours, the brief scratch of his beard making goosebumps break out under your sweater.

And just as quickly as it happened, he’s pulled away.

“I…I’m-” He tries, dark eyes round, as if he was stunned at what he’d just done.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You breathe, heart pounding in your ears.

Hassan isn’t quite sure where his mind went, but he follows you out of the car, up the stairs to your home. It looks prettier up close, he thinks.

You unlock your house, and Hassan exhales the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

The house is lovely, just like you, just like he pictured. And he’s here.

You take your shoes off, he follows suit. You take off your sweater, and Hassan takes off his jacket.

If he looks too closely at your shoulders, it might make him lightheaded, and he couldn’t do that right now.

He follows you to your kitchen, as you put a pod into your keurig, he hovers on the other end, leaning against a counter. You hover by the coffee maker, before turning around slowly and taking each other in.

He likes looking at you, he always has. You're looking right back, air in the kitchen starting to buzz.

You could collapse under the weight of his stare, and yet you don’t move.

“So.” He says.

“So.”

The keurig starts to hum, and you clear your throat, “Must be stressful, being here, dealing with everyone.”

“It can be, yeah.” says Hassan, softly.

You run a hand over his broad chest, to rest over his heart, “bet you could use some…relief.” Were you doing it? Were you actually going to say it?

“Oh really?” Hassan hoped to every higher power that he was able to keep his face neutral, and not express what he was actually feeling.

“Someone to take all that tension out on,” you continue, taking a step towards him.

“Are you sure about that?” He growls, making you shiver.

In a moment he’s got his hands around your waist, your back to his chest.

He’s stronger than you, taller than you, and you're trapped. You let out a small whimper, wriggling weakly.

“You wanna be my toy? Something I can play with to work out all this stress?” he snarls into your ear ,”Say it.”

You give him nothing, breathing in through your nose, and out through your mouth.

“Don’t be coy with me now, tell me how you feel.” You feel Hassan push his face into your hair, inhaling deeply, while he waits.

“I’d like to be your toy. Or your anything…” You answer honestly.

“You wanna be mine? Want me to stake my fucking claim?” Hassan moves his face into the crook of your neck, the scratch of his beard masks the faint tug of his teeth.

“Yes please.” You stick out your bottom lip, trying to sound pitiful, and he laughs faintly.

“Okay honey, okay.” Hassan grips your waist tighter, just for a moment, and you want to melt into him.

“I sleep over in there”, you whisper, pointing down a short hallway to your bedroom. You’d jump on him if your couch had been a little longer, but your bed was a better bet for his comfort.

He’s right behind you, taking wide steps, not letting his hand stray from your back. You turn around, and get on your tiptoes to put your mouth back on his, and you keep him there.

Until you hear a low growl, “Do you like this dress?” asks Hassan, not taking his mouth from yours for more than a second.

“Yes.” You squeak, and Hassan hums in appreciation, his hands wandering down to the hem of your dress, tugging it up over your head. You shiver, falling right back into his mouth, your favorite dress tossed off to the side.

“Do you like these tights?” He questions, his hands roaming down and squeezing the globes of your ass.

“No.” You practically whisper, holding Hassan’s gaze as he tears your tights, almost in half, but not quite.

“I like these.” He rumbles, running large hands over your chest, pausing to unclasp your bra.

Hassan knew that his poker face failed him, and you saw his expression flicker. His dark, hungry eyes lit up the moment he saw your chest. He hovers for a moment, running his thumbs over your peaks, as you bite down on your lower lip.

Hassan runs his hands down,

“Lean back.” orders Hassan, and you do, shivering with anticipation. Your eyes go to your ceiling, reflecting on the various times you’d fucked yourself to the idea of him, for a moment, you wish you could tell him, but his mouth is on your clit so quickly, the thoughts melt away.

“Fuck,” you shout, as the Sheriff doesn’t waste time, licking and sucking in his own rhythm, quick, but not quick enough.

The sounds are obscene, and he moves your hand to hold on to his peppered hair. You looked so pretty with your eyes screwed shut, absolutely soaked for him.

“Fucking sweet,” You hear, muffled between your thighs.

You huff, as he knew exactly what he was doing. The pattern he’d established was lovely, but it was getting you to an edge. You were walking a tightrope and he wouldn’t let you fall.

Typical.

“Daddy ‘M-” You are cut off as you feel him hook a finger inside your wet heat. He groans against your clit, “Tightly wound. Alright.” He almost laughs as he works you loose, you’re still walking the tightrope.

“Hold on baby, open up for me.” He tries to comfort you, toying with that one spongy spot that made you see stars. Hassan’s thick fingers would reach it, press it, but never for long enough. He’s cruel.

“I’m gonna c-” you try, but Hassan’s not completely evil, he presses down on your stomach, and enjoys the show.

You twist, only truly aware of Hassan’s hands digging into your thighs, keeping you in place.

Things seem dim, distant for a moment, before Hassan crawls up for a kiss. He hovers above you for a moment while your breathing steadies.

He’s watching closely, before putting your head on his arm, turning you only to your side. The Sheriff pushes your hair out of your eyes, and you could feel yourself clench down around nothing.

Fuck.

You’re boneless, he’s panting, and everything is beautiful.

But it’s not enough. With all of your strength, you sit up.

“Fair’s fair.” You try, wobbly, as you try to reach down for his belt, your mouth wet. Your face twists into a pout as Hassan catches your wrists in his hands.

“Later, I’m gonna fuck you now.” He replies bluntly, pushing his face into your palms. The scratch of his beard in your hands almost distracts you from the words.

“Oh,” You’re struck with a pleasant chill, remembering bed with a gorgeous man who looked as if he wanted to swallow you whole.

“Yeah, oh.” He mocks lightly, giving you a soft kiss.

“Can you take this off?” You give him the biggest puppy dog eyes, tugging at his denim shirt.

“What’s the magic word?” He teases, watching you intently.

“Please, daddy.” Hassan hopes you don’t notice how his breath catches. You do, but what’s there to say?

“Daddy, huh?” He grins, getting up off the bed to take off his

“Shut up.” You smack his shoulder playfully, watching Hassan shrug out of his white undershirt.

Fuck, he’s hypnotizing, you could stare at him all day. You’re in a stupor, until he undoes his belt and frees his erection.

“Hassan-” it’s too big, it won’t fit.

But the words don’t come, his mouth is on yours, and everything feels so certain. You let out a small whine, feeling him poke at your folds. His body weight keeps you pinned as you wriggle and squirm in his grasp. “Don’t run, you can take it.” He’s got you pinned with seemingly no effort. Tears spring to your eyes as he steadily spears himself into you. Your vision blurs as Hassan takes you over.

“God, you fit me just right.” You hear faintly in your ear, as you focus on breathing. You scramble to make a sentence, a coherent thought, anything, but nothing comes to mind. It’s just the two of you. He’s still, and you’ll thank every higher power for that.

But at the worst possible time, a thought comes. Your hand roams over your breast, pinching it down to your stomach.

“I-I can feel you here!” You exclaim, dumbly putting your hand on your lower belly, pointing out a lump. It’s him.

“Fuck.” He snaps, as you blink at him, vacant. Hassan shifts for a moment, putting one leg over his shoulder, and the other follows suit.

And he begins.

His pace is steady, but hard enough to be considered unforgiving. It’s all a haze to you, the lump in your stomach, the slapping of skin, Hassan giving your ass a smack every time your eyes would roll.

“Can’t believe you’ve been such a slut. This whole time.” The words should sting but they don’t, not when he says them.

“I’m-” Hassan’s pace stutters, as you feel a bolt of lightning strike through you, you’re not sure if you're real anymore. You clench down around him suddenly, taking him down with you. He pushes his face into your neck, panting, and there’s never been a sound more lovely.

You register his heat just a moment after he falls apart on top of you, a lovely, liquid heat, hitting deeper than anyone had before.

The sheriff’s words are faint, “Good job baby,” you’re too weak to squirm away, as you pulse. “Milk this cock like it's yours, that’s it.” Hassan takes the opportunity to bite a mark into your smooth neck, earning a squeak.

The haze settles, only slightly, as you swear you could hear two hearts beating. The blankets, pushed off your bed, meant he was your only warmth.

A metaphor for your stupid small-town existence.

The feral feeling of his chest, bare against yours, made you feel as if you should simply put him back, but someone needs to be able to speak for that to happen.

“I think Daddy’s pussy is all filled up, do you feel it?” You feel down between your legs, face heating at the absolute mess he’d made of you.

“Yes, Daddy.” I want to stay like this.

He smiles, pressing a kiss into your shoulder, “good girl.”

“Does my toy need to rest now?” His voice is smooth as honey in your ear, hands everywhere, settling on your chest, squeezing, pinching at your nipples.

It’s almost too much.

“Yes, please.” You eek out, eyelids getting heavy. Your body is humming, but at the last second Hassan grabs your jaw and pulls your face close to his own.

“If if I catch wind of you fucking anyone else, there will be hell to pay. This is my fucking pussy understand?” You whine as a response, “I get to use this and this, only me.”

Only me.

Your partner traces down in between your legs, tapping on your sensitive clit twice, relishing how it made your whole body twitch.

But it’s not enough, he collects his cum on his thick fingers, and pushes it back into you. It takes you a moment to react as he does it again.

Hassan smiles as you let out a pathetic little cry, eyes getting watery. You couldn’t squirm away if you wanted to. Hassan could do whatever he wanted with you, and your cock-drunk mind decides that you're fine with that.

Suddenly it’s cold.

You don’t have the energy to open your eyes fully, but something was wrong. He can’t pull away! He can’t leave!

But he’s back, quickly, taking a warm towel between your legs, pressing on his beard burn, just to make you twitch.

And he’s back in bed, long arms pulling you back into him.

He’s staying, he’s staying the night.

Your body instinctively grinds back into his, making his breath catch as you persist.

“Miss me already, hm?” You feel a warm hand rest itself on your thigh.

“Mhmm.” You nod.

“Wanna keep me warm, baby?” The question sounded so sweet and sincere, you almost would have forgotten he’d just taken you apart moments ago.

“Yes, please.”

And Hassan doesn’t waste time.

You let out a filthy moan as Hassan parts your legs slightly, and pushes himself back inside you. Blunt, deep, warm. He hums a little bit, getting to feel exactly how he stretched you out, as he grips you, feeling you start to squirm with sensitivity. That would just be too bad.

Toy’s don’t get sensitive, they’re made to be used. Over and over.

“It’s your pussy daddy. Whenever you want.” In your mind, you dream about Hassan playing with your body while you sleep, if he wants, but you can’t get that across. Your vocabulary is now extremely limited. But how lovely would it be, to be woken up by his unrelenting force.

“You shouldn't say things like that, I might get greedy.” Hassan attempted to sound calm like he wasn’t going to dream of keeping you in bed, holding your hips against his and fucking you until you forgot the year. You’re so pretty in this dream, starry-eyed, and limp, letting him play with you however he wanted.

Maybe tomorrow, he’d have to ask first.

As a well-earned sleep took you, Hassan was left alone with his thoughts, he’d think about before he sleeps is how he didn’t have a leg to stand on. He’s a father, a widow, a disgraced NYPD detective, what did he have that you could want?

Could he ask you to go steady? Do people still do that?

Before your mind had been cleared, you wanted to tell him that tonight was enough. Whatever this evening was didn’t have to go any farther than he wanted it to.

But it’s alright, you two have time.

[relax-and-read-on]

Corvus/Mortarion/Konrad- the throuple everyone expects to fall apart spectacularly but ends up being surprisingly stable and supportive? They’re all shy, wary of themselves interacting with others, scared of hurting people they know are already hurt too. Corvus reminding Konrad he can still be a good person after a vision while Mortarion is more experienced in what calms down a body after a seizure. Mortarion telling anxiety-riddled Corvus that she’s making the right choices and doing good, and he’s unmoving enough that she believes him. All of them having days sometimes where they don’t do as well and just need a while to hide away from everyone else, and Corvus making up the best excuses to get them out of things (and maybe straight up sneaking them out of a stressful meeting)

.... I NEVER tough of them like that but ohhhh fuck I might have a new OT3?!? Anon that's my 3 fav introvert!!!

Here here, a few HC for each of them in that triade

Mortarion

Will sometime walk to one of his partner lounging around and just. Stuff his face in their belly as if they were a cat. Its pure serotonin.

By far the tallest. Almost two heads above them. It make Corvus pout that's he's too tall to kiss without bending. Konrad just climb him like a tree.

Used to be incredibly insecure about sex and his body, until corvus threatened to wack him, and Konrad just asked what a dysphoria was and would he feel better if Konrad kill it??

Why is he dating two sneaky sneak. Why. They just freaking materialised at his side randomly, it used to jump scare him quite badly.

He has the easiest time with words, in that trouple. He was probably the first one to say "I love you". Corvus get too in her head, and Konrad straight up forget how to talk sometime.

He's working on medications to at least help Konrad control the physical side effect of his visions. When he told him of this project, Konrad almost cried.

He never feel bad for his respirator when around them. In fact, Corvus will often grumble and remind him to wear it. Konrad is very intrigued by it, and has a hard time not playing with the tubbing.

His poor sons. They have no idea what to do when a Raven guard gift them a bunch of feathers, or when a Night Lord drag in a corpse to share. They want!!! To make friends!!! Morty is nice enough to establish general legions cohabitations guideline.

He love playing with his partners hairs. Corvus has poufy, fluffy ones, that almost feel like feathers, and konrad ones (when clean!!) Are soft and silky.

Corvus

She has no idea how she pulled that one off. She got TWO boyfriends?!?! What.

Her and Morty LOVE to nerd out together. They get in one of their lab and get super!! Excited!!! About whatever project they are working on!!!

She is constantly cold, due to bad circulation. Having two boyfriend keep her warm~~

She adore that they are the least concerned people EVER about her physical appearance. She does get dysphoria sometime, and the blank look they give her when she voice her insecurity is weirdly validating

They all, collectively, have a pretty low sex drive, and that's ok. She does bring up some of the sex toys she built in the bedroom, and they are VERY interested.

Her son always called her "mother", but now her bf sons sometime call her that too?!? It's Sevatar fault, he started doing it first and all the Night Lords followed, and the Death Guards had a panicked moment and collectively decided to do it too. Kayvaan doubled down by calling the other legions members "step-brothers". She find it kinda funny tbh.

They more often than not spend time on her ship or on Deliverance. It's a nice neutral zone, not too dark or toxic.

Konrad

It's a very strange feeling, being around people that CAN fight him off and stop him if need be. It's reassuring.

Still does not like showers. Will tolerate them if someone is keeping him company in it.

It was very... Touch and go at first, sex wise. His partners had to be extremely patient with him. Many triggers were discovered in the early days.

LOVE kissing. He's the first one surprised by this. It's safe, intimate, and he never had really done it before. Will sneak ambush his partners to kiss them.

The furnace. As such, when they all sleep together, he become a shared living blanket on top of them.

His partners are so?? Understanding of his various weirdness?? They even get him things to stim with. It really pacify him a lot.

His hatred of clothes continue. Why do they exist. If there was less clothes, he could have skin to skin contact more often with his partners!! Yes it means that sometime, he start trying to strip them randomly.

Actually??? A rather funny guy????? Yes, his humour is kind of morbid, but in a safe situations, he's the most likely to joke around.

He's a cat. We established this. As such, he like to bring gifts. Corvus is very touched, there is a huge traditions of gift giving in her legion. Mortarion is very confused, and is trying to convince them to please stop bringing dead rat and birds in his lab he has sensitive samples-

[orphicrose]

The Only One

Rick x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : life is strange in the rick and morty universe, as we all know. But things get just that little bit weirder when Rick meets you. Something seems oddly familiar with you, but for once In his life he has no idea why. So he searches from reality to reality to try and see if he had met another version of you, only to realise there where none. You where the only one. That’s when it finally hit him…

This is inspired by a song from Rick and morty that I think is beautiful https://youtu.be/epiOcz3HXNo

I accidentally got carried away and wrote too much, so I will probably just do a part 2 so it’s not to much to read if anyone is interested <3

_________________꧁♥︎꧂_________________

Humans are such fragile creatures, always have been and always will be. You knew that, but you refused to surrender down to it. Not wanting to be included In whatever earth had to offer, so you ran away. And not like how a silly fourteen years old runs away from home, Hah… no.

You left the fucking planet, not leaving behind a single trail or speck of dust for someone to follow you with. Your intelligence and ambition was all you needed to carry yourself through life. Travelling the infinite void of space, soon making a name for yourself. For good and for bad. An ordinary person couldnt even dream nor comprehend the things you’ve experienced or seen. And that’s just how you liked it. Being different. It was truly a gift to be intelligent.

And then there was rick, high IQ and normally not happy about it. Seeing his intelligence as a curse. Rick hadn’t seen it all, it was impossible, but he thought he had seen enough to make a valid opinion on life.

It’s pointless.

Such a bitter man with a bitter view on everything, including himself. You see, when you have an overwhelming amount of knowledge weighing down on your mind, you can go two ways. The first being ricks way, not caring about anything since he has seen how big the universe is and doesn’t see a point.

Then there’s your way, feeling blessed to be able to see things that no one else can, and finding a new reason to live every single day.

You two where polar opposites, but also the same. You where both alone in a universe you felt didn’t need you anymore.

The day both of your worlds collided should have been written down in the history books. It was the day both of your beliefs where almost questioned. Wondering whether fate really does exist.

————————————————

Out of the many things you have done, you’ve never visited the same place twice. Making everyday an adventure, as much of a cliche as that sounds it’s true. Not only that, but you seem to have people after you almost everywhere. For your intelligence, or for revenge. But there is one particular spot you cannot get enough of. Finding yourself there when you lose yourself.

It’s an isolated planet in the middle of the andromeda galaxy. It’s a newly ‘emerging moon’ as you like to call it. In fact, you pretty much founded this planet, since its a recent creation. This also means there is no intelligent life yet evolved, so it is safe for you to do what you please.

You go there often, to watch the two suns set over its small horizon and the thousands of stars come into view. Giving you time to reflect on your life. To appreciate it, but not to regret anything. The stars are far to beautiful to bring your mind to anything negative. The planet itself seems to project the meaning of peace and tranquillity even without life. Maybe that’s why it’s so comforting.

Your thoughts where leaving your mind, as you held your eyes closed. Feeling the breeze brush through your hair gently. That beautiful, genuine smile found its way to your face without you noticing. You where to lost in the feeling of relaxation.

But that soon came to an end. That euphoric state was snapped out of you when you noticed a bright light coming towards you. Getting bigger and bigger in just seconds. Until it became more clear, it was a spacecraft of some sort. A poorly built one to say the least. You sat and watched, mesmerised, as the flames from the object slowly engulfed it. Burning in the atmosphere. Finally hitting the ground, you shook your head and sighed. Being brought back into reality.

The flames took a second to fade after the ship had crashed. And it was clearer to see, it was the stereotypical UFO. The type you’d see in cheesy ski-fi films. But it had encryptions written in English. Which was very unusual, especially for it to be in this part of the galaxy.

What was even stranger was that it didn’t have even the slightest burn mark to it’s metal. Your vision of it became clearer and clearer the closer you got, slowly creeping past the incredibly green trees towards it. But just before you got too close, a figure fell out of the vehicle. Swearing like a drunken sailor.

This is what really messed with you, it was a human. You gasped quietly, not being able to remember the last time you saw one. A mix of feelings rushed over you; confusion, fear, excitement? You couldn’t help but stare, his unique blue hair bounced as he picked himself up, not even bothering to dust off the dirt on his lab coat.

“Fuck! You fucking piece of shit spacecraft. You’ve really done it this time Rick you fucking…” he didn’t finish his sentence, as he kicked the lump of metal. Screaming at the top of his voice.

“Fuck!”

You caught a small glimpse of his face, and recognised him. But you weren’t sure where from. You had met millions of people over the years so he could really be anyone. But there was something so compelling about his character. Something that felt like you where being pushed towards him. Or pulled, by a red string perhaps. Something that was just telling you to interact with him.

You stayed hidden behind a rather tall tree, still collecting your thoughts and questioning whether you should help him. Rick had slumped himself against the ship, putting his hands to his face and grunting. Pausing his breakdown for a second to take a sip from his flask, then proceeding to carry on.

He stayed like this for a good few minutes, before you had decided to approach him. Your curiosity and questions where burning at the edge of your mind. You just had to investigate. Keeping a hand on your weapon tucked neatly in a pocket behind your back. You slowly walked towards him, not even being able to speak before he noticed you.

A gun had been pulled to you, aiming directly between your eyes

“What do you want? I’m not in the mood so just tell me in advance if I should shoot you or not..” his eyebrows furrowed, looking at the hand tucked behind your back.

You rolled your eyes, putting your hands up in surrender. Just how you remembered humans to be. Aggressive and impulsive.

“Calm down, I saw your ship crash. Thought you where in need of some assistance. And put that gun down, god…” to your surprise, he did. With a loud grunt he put his gun back into his pocket and turned away. Usually, he probably would’ve shot on site. And who’s to say he still won’t, but right in this moment he is too preoccupied to care.

“God doesn’t fucking exist…” he mumbled “and I definitely don’t need any assistance!”

You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him as he attempted to fix his broken ship. Opening the lid to the engine and being greeted by a storm of smoke. Now Seconds away from another breakdown.

“Are you… okay?” You hesitantly asked, daring to inch closer to him. Probably was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. He threw the wrench down at the engine as he exploded.

“No, I’m not fucking okay. I lost my grandson, the entire galactic government is after me, I broke my portal gun and I just crashed my ship into a planet with no helpful resources to fix it.!” His speech sped up, and he went dead silent when he stopped talking. Clearly regretting telling you anything. He is usually good at keeping his mind together and keeping his problems to himself. But he had so much adrenaline pumping through his blood, he could barely concentrate.

“I’m, i’m sorry for your loss” is all you managed to get out

“What? Oh no, my grandsons not dead. I just left him somewhere and forgot exactly where…” he spoke slightly softer, still grunting as he tried to analyse his engine.

There was a small silence while you processed everything he had just said. Moving closer to get a look at his engine, you shook your head.

“You’ve burnt it out…”

“Yeah, no shit smart ass” he bit at you

You rolled your eyes and snatched the spanner from the place he had dropped it. Not using it to fix his engine, but you pulled out a small metal box from your pocket instead. Fixing a few pieces together. Rick stood there and watched with a puzzled look on his face. Moving his eyes from the gadget, then up to get a look at you.

His eyebrows softened as he took in your features, the creases in his forehead disappeared. A rush of a strange feeling replaced the adrenaline, not being able to pinpoint what it was but he didn’t like it. He could only describe it as his heart softening, and getting lost in a place that was familiar to him. Thats what he felt when he looked at your eyes, reflecting off of his.

“Hav-have we met before?” He said in a much calmer tone

You placed the gadget on the engine and pressed a small red button on the top, looking up at him.

“I don’t think so?” The box moved around the engine, like a shield. Fixing it effortlessly, Ricks eyes darted from you, to the engine, then back to you. Now with amazement written all over his face.

Deja vu was the only state good enough to describe what he was experiencing. You broke the silence by holding a hand out to introduce yourself.

“I’m y/n”

It took a quick second for him to respond, still trying to process your face and remember how he knows you.

“I’m… Rick” he finally shook your hand.

“Rick Sanchez..”

That name was oddly familiar to you. Like you’d heard it in a dream. Or it was a loved ones name in a past life. You felt like you had heard it before, in a very distant memory. But no recollection of the connection.

“That seems…familiar” you tilted your head, squinting your eyes at the old man who gave you the same look.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew me. I am the smartest man In the universe”

[some-movies-ive-seen]

oh shit he's seeing shiT!!

OOOH THERE:S CHALKF ON THE ROAD. baby girl it's ok, just let it happen, go with her. Coraline is sweet.

long slow mo.

EXCUSE ME?! 2 double cheeseburgers, small chips, and a root beer (sarsaparilla), and that's all only $11.99??? fucking Reagan.

oh it's Owen. (first time we're hearing the name)

oh dear that's not ominous. fallen tree... lightning coming out of the road. NO BABY GIRL DON'T STEP OUT OF THE CAR the gROUND is CHARGED.

oop ok, small screen, volume down now.

why is this cunt T-posing in the grocery store.

is that a lady gaga impersonator, I love her.

I like this song.

"you n need to go to the police they think you're deaD" omg shut up why does he sound like that guy from rick and Morty, the one that's always screaming sentences.

coraline is being very cryptic right now.

"how do you remember it?" um. what's going on. um???

girl yes lkmfao the memories got jumbled up for me.

GIRLS SHE'S WAS INSIDE THE PINK OPAEUE (what does that mean)

ooh I like this, OH I LIKE THIS SONG. do you know how much funcking control and talent and skill you need to be able to scream like that. ugh.

LOL

young Winona Ryder x Anne Hathaway.

ok well.... this is a bit weird. OH She's stuck in the midnight realm !!

yea. same tbh.

OH SHE DIED. ok that's why the tears.

um. wtf.

I think maybe there is another meaning here. OH house number 12! that's midnight of course.

gasp! the two movie guys.

"Time wasn't moving right. too fast. then I was 19. and then I was 20" yup... "and then I was 21, like a chapter skipped over on a DVD". big yup. ok wait she's talking to us but she's not facing the camera. what's that about. ok now she's talking to the camera. why.

ok star signs, yea I love cosmeotieloogy. sagitariyas.

this sounds like spoken poetry.

ooh ok we're getting creepy.

that was a lot of monologue and all we got is that she might be high. or just, you know, very imaginative. "we need to go back down into the soil" sorry but if some monotonous queen said this to me I'd be hightailing it to like anywhere else.

wtf?? oh. well that's funny. nice use of numbers. 12, 34, then 5, then back to 0.

yea. 😞

oh the fire is like very small now. oh ok we're putting it out,.

yay soup party. girl why the flashing. why the flashing.

ok well maybe you should've got into the ground or whatever

ohhhhhhhkay, no thank you um. don't do that to your chest

wait what. that's IT!? omg :(

well. it's very pretty.

Ok let’s go!

I don’t get why tumblr loves this movie so much but I’m keen to see what it’s all about.

So far I’m getting vibes of “let’s just put pink and blue lights over people’s faces”. Remember moonlight? I never got to see that 😞

Ok he’s voting for the president? (I thought you had to be 16 to do that)

There’s a girl reading a book. Um ok that’s not creepy. Bahahaha ok well that was fun. LOL ok she’s rude.

Wait she. Is she… Coraline? She gives me strong Coraline vibes.

UM ok lying about a sleepover. Girl you’re too young to be doing that. Not in this kind of movie anyway (I’m assuming it’s a horror, it feels like a horror, I’m standing 2m away from my computer and the window size is the smallest it can be because I don’t like horror)

Ok I’m gonna watch a bit more I’ll be back

Oooooooh k. The sound is getting loud. Eeeeeeeeee I don’t like t- ok it went away.

LOL. The mom driving away before he’s inside. Sure. Ok well I wish I had that childhood ngl. Being able to walk outside like that in the streets unaccompanied.

Aw what she’s so rude he just made the most terrifying journey ever wtf and in the rain

Ok sorry I’m going.

Wdym you can’t eat ice cream during the winter are you stupid? Why would you want the ice cream man to be there allAHHH. AHHH. OK. WTF.

Ok they’re talking now. That’s a nice fish tank. Girl your posture is horrendous, I’m the exact same lmfao

Ok sorry I’m going for real now.

[penguinwithitsarseonfire]

Dance For All We’ve Been Through

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 1,771

Warnings: None

Summary: To stop a meteor hitting a small planet, the Doctor creates an elaborate plan involving a planet wide dance competition to stop it.

Request: I read in your tags that you were feeling fluff and I love how you write 11! Could you do 44 fluff with 11 please? and maybe with the Ponds there too? Prompt: “You’re an idiot” / “But I’m your idiot”

A/N: I don’t know what this is, I’m so sorry. This came from discussing Rick and Morty after a rehearsal in which there was a dance off.

The plan was bizarre – straight up weird, and, if it was anyone besides the Doctor, you would have had no faith that it would work.

Rory had finished drawing up a scaled version of the planet you were currently standing on. The planet was small - Pluto small, and a part of you wanted to cradle the drawing in your hands.

"How's this?" He asked, looking to Amy, then to you.

"It's good," you said, then, more of an aside. "I didn't know you could draw."

"We made him design all our aliens as kids,” Amy commented, and she leaned over Rory to get a better look at the map. "Where's the meteor supposed to hit?"

You had forgotten his name, but the president of the planet; a stocky man with a receding hairline, his purple face red from stress, hissed. "Don't say that so loud. If people know, it will cause a panic."

You groaned. "We've been through this. If we can't tell people, if we can't even tell your government-"

"We are not telling the government," he spat. He straightened, and you noticed his skin going back to a pale shade of purple. "My people are a fragile sort."

You ran a hand through your hair, trying to stifle your groan of frustration. He really wasn't making it easy.

The Doctor then ran into the room, and you almost cheered. The timing was perfect. You wouldn’t have to deal with the president now, the Doctor could. He would listen to the Doctor, everyone listened to the Doctor.

He came in to the sound of bells clattering against each-other, and you noticed that there actually were bells, draped over him like a sleigh bells. In fact, his whole body was decorated with an assortment of tinsel and lights. He looked like he was cosplaying a Christmas tree. "Almost done setting up the stage," he said. "How are we going in here?"

He was a strange dichotomy. In any other situation, you could image he would be grinning gleefully. The lights, the tinsel, the stage, the music, even, it was all up the Doctor's alley. Minus the planet destroying meteor.

His mouth, however, was pulled into a grim line.

It was the only clue you had that the Doctor was worried, too.

"Where's the meteor hitting?" Amy asked, with a slight pinch in her lips. She had noticed then, too.

"Oh it shouldn't be a problem," The Doctor waved to her, and his face morphed into a grin, which, by now, after all the times you had seen him do it, you knew wasn’t genuine. "All we need to do is move the planet by an inch or so, the meteor should fly right past."

“All we need,” the Doctor straightened and pointed to the three of you. “Is a dance move.”

“Ah,” you stared at your friends, who mirrored your blank expression.

Amy chewed her lip. “The macarena?”

You brightened. “Oh! That would be easy to teach everyone, it’s a classic!”

The Doctor physically slumped. “The macarena? Anyone can do the macarena,” he bumbled into the table, jingling away like a cheesy Christmas carol – which, why did you keep making Christmas metaphors – and came to your side.  He leaned over you, studying the map.

He was close, you could feel some of the tinsel brush against your shoulder. He traced his finger along the edge of the planet, and in doing so he inadvertently moved further into your space. It was… warm. Safe. “If we sink the planet down – essentially, that’s not what we’re actually doing, the meteor-“

The president hissed.

The Doctor ignored him. “-Should just fly overhead. It means we need a dance move with extra oomph, where everyone dances…” he trailed off, turning to you. “Together.”

The Doctors eyes were so close to yours, you could see little flecks of gold in the green of his irises – something you had never noticed before.

From the side, you thought you heard someone – Amy, say something about pushing someone together to kiss.

You heard Rory say something else, something about being against the rules of the bet.

You decided to ignore them both. There were more pressing matters anyway

“So a partnered dance?” You said.

“Hang on,” Rory said. “Dancing – why are we dancing?”

“Oh,” The Doctor clapped his hands. “I love this part.”

“The explaining why you’re oh so very clever part?” Amy supplied.

“Exactly,” The Doctor said. He brushed his hands across the map. “Now, because Mr. Mean Purple Man-”

“President Button,” the president huffed.

“-Won’t let us tell the public the danger, which, judging by how your bodies can spontaneously combust under mass stress, isn’t a bad idea, it means we need a discreet way of solving the issue.”

“So… dancing?” Rory said.

“Dancing,” The Doctor said. “You see, it’s experimental, but, if everyone were to jump at the same time, whilst we’re all in the air, the planet should move an inch or so, just from the sheer force of conflict against the planets gravity. Then, it’s tricky, because, when we land, it will either move the planet another inch or…”

“Or?” The president said.

“Or move the planet back.”

“Oh,” you said, dejectedly. The planet moving back would be bad. Very bad.

You tried to think of an idea. What would make the planet move. “Wait,” you said, forming an idea. “So if two people are holding each other when they jump, shouldn’t they be able to jump higher? It’s got to do with momentum, right?”

“Correctumndo Y/L/N!” The Doctor beamed at you. “And we need to make sure everyone jumps in appropriately…” The Doctor stared at his plans. “37 minutes. Easy.”

Which was how, half an hour later, you ended up standing on a stage in a broadcast directed to the entire planet.

The dance wasn’t too difficult, all things considered. It was, however, ridiculous.

It had all the traits that made the Doctor… outlandishly goofy. There was a move that involve the Doctors strange giraffe arms - which he delighted in making you do, and a twirl that involved the two of jumping together, holding each-others forearms. If it were any other saturation, you would have felt self-conscious, hell, you would have felt downright absurd.

You laughed lightly when he demonstrated the wavey arm giraffe move again. He was brilliant, but he was also such an idiot. You paused for a moment, watching as he addressed the camera.

He was wonderful.

Standing on the stage, in front of all those cameras, talking to millions of people, felt so strange. The bright TV lights blared down on you. They were hot, and, after demonstrating the dance a couple of times, you could feel a sheen of sweat form on your brow.

The Doctor checked his watch. He looked to you, his expression grim. You didn’t have much time now.

“Alright,” you said, addressing the camera’s. “To win the competition, you must do the dance in time with us,” you said. “It what we humans,” you gestured to the Doctor, who was completely not human. “Value above all else in dance.”

Also a lie.

Amy grinned at you from behind the camera. She gave you an encouraging thumbs up.

“We’ll dance with you,” you continued. “And, whoever has the best timing, will win!”

You had no idea if you were convincing, but it was the best you could do.

So you danced.

It was, honestly, a blur. The only thing you could concentrate on was on the Doctor. The way his arms held you as you moved, the way his eyes shone when he twirled you under the lights.

Finally, finally, as Rory called out time, you both jumped into the air, clutching each other as you did so. In the corner of your eye, you saw the crew, Amy and Rory, even the President, jump into the air, and…

It was incredible.

It was like you could hear it. The entire population move as one, the planet shifting underneath your feet. You wanted to close your eyes, hold your breath, in case the meteor did come and all of you were brutally killed in an instant.

But you didn’t, you couldn’t look away. Because the Doctor was right in front of you, looking at you so sure, so positive that this would work out. He looked at you like you were brighter than the lights shining above you.

Then, you landed.

And nothing happened.

Nothing at all.

A loud cheer erupted over the room, and you couldn’t help joining in.

Here was this man, with his ridiculous, mad plan.

And it had worked.

After everything, when the four of you had wandered back to the TARDIS, and the President had thanked you for the fourteenth time, the Doctor took your hand. "Well then, I'd say that was another success. Where to next? I know a planet that makes amazing ice cream."

Amy laughed. "That dance was ridiculous, it was worse than my wedding."

"Oi, I’ll have you know that I've won dance offs with that move," he did an awkward wave, which was only made worse since you didn't join in, so it stopped rather sadly by your hand.

You laughed brightly. “You’re an idiot.”

The Doctor grinned at you. "Yes, but I am your idiot.”

You paused, doing a double take. Did he just-

"Oh," the Doctor paled as three pairs of stunned eyes stared at him. "Did I say that out loud?"

You processed what he had said. That he was.. well, yours. That was… well, that was amazing, really.

You squeezed his hand. "Good," you said. "I can't very well have you running off and being an idiot on your own."

Rory stared at you blankly. There was a beat, then he spoke. "Did - did you two just become a couple?" He brightened. "Did I just win the bet?"

There was a thump and Rory doubled over, clutching his stomach. He hissed out Amy's name, and, when you turned to face her, she was standing there with large, doe eyes, completely oblivious to her husband. She looked the picture of innocence.

You didn't believe her for a second.

You stood on your tip toes and placed a delicate kiss on the Doctors cheek. His blush reached the tips of his ears. "Take me on a date and we'll see," you said, enveloped in a ball of confidence. "Space boy." You squeezed his hand and winked at Amy, before stepping into the TARDIS.

From the outside, you thought you heard someone cheer.

It put a small smile on your face.

[atomicstrawbrys]

Dead On Arrival

WOW i haven’t written in forever lmao, hopefully I still remember how!! I hope you enjoy the fic!! Please let me know if you did!!

Summary: Arthur and Alfred have a date. However, as Alfred finds himself unable to attend due to a rather...serious condition, it is up to Arthur to make sure they get to their dinner reservation on time. USUK.

Warnings: gross imagery, character death, violence

Words: 2583

Honestly, of all the times for Alfred to die, it had to be a few weeks before their big dinner date. 

Arthur had made the reservation months in advance, as The Boathouse was always packed full of the rich and influential, and, hell, he’d just wanted to have one really nice date. Sure, he adored Alfred, and loved being with him no matter where they were, but he’d been looking forward to getting all fancy and renting a nice car for the night, to coming home late and getting pounded into the mattress before they would wake up and resume their normal lives. 

And then Alfred got himself killed. A mugging gone wrong; they’d said. Alfred wasn’t even the intended victim, but he’d noticed the crime unfolding and had stepped in. The initial target had run away, but Alfred had not been so lucky. And oh, how his family wept. As did Arthur. He couldn’t even be considered a widower, as he had asked Alfred to prolong their engagement, putting off the wedding until they were secure enough to afford a decent house. How silly that seemed now- if he could go back, he’d have gone with Alfred to the courthouse the very day his fiancé had proposed. 

And now, instead of planning a wedding, Arthur had planned a funeral. Closed casket, at his insistence. He didn’t want to see Alfred, a man who represented the very definition of life, reduced to a cold meat sack. They’d lowered his love into the ground, and, rather than a goodbye, Arthur departed with a ‘See you later, Darling.’ And, if he had anything to say about it, he would.

On the day of their date, Arthur rolled up to the cemetery in the rose gold Ferrari they’d reserved for the occasion. He stepped out in his crushed velvet suit, checking his watch. He had a little less than an hour before they had to be at The Boathouse. If they were even a minute late, they’d lose their reservation, so he did hope this would be quick.

Opening the passenger side door, Arthur retrieved a weathered tome from on top of the seat. He’d had this particular book of magicks for a while now, though before Alfred’s death, he’d never intended on getting involved in necromancy. Well. Maybe only a little, but still. The tome itself felt odd in his hands- it was bound with some type of animal skin, but not like anything he’d ever felt. He had plenty of old books, but this didn’t feel like any of the others...it also had this weird, fleshy color that wasn’t too far off from his own, and- Nope. Nope, that train of thought had gone far enough. Whatever the book was made out of, he didn’t make it, so it wasn’t his problem.  He flipped through the pages of the tome as he walked through the graveyard, stepping over and around the headstones of those he was much less attached to.

When he arrived at Alfred’s grave -a nice little spot underneath the shade of a tree- Arthur took a moment to read the inscription on his headstone.

“Here lies Alfred Jones. Beloved Fiancé and Friend. Loved by all who knew him.” Beneath that were the dates that marked his birth and death, a short twenty-five years that seemed much too short for a man who loved life so much.

Before Arthur could contemplate on the tragedy further, he shook himself out of his thoughts  and held up the ancient book. He read the page-long incantation labelled only ‘Reanimation.’ Once he’d read it through a few times, he set the book down in the grass, leaving his hands free.

As he chanted, Arthur took out his pocketknife, bringing it up to his hand. The blood of the living to awaken the body of the dead, that was the exchange. Of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to slice his palm, despite what was often shown in movies. Instead, he nicked the side of his wrist, letting crimson droplets sprinkle the freshly tilled earth of Alfred’s grave. With a final flourish, he wiped his wrist across Alfred’s headstone, the grey inscription now painted red. Then, he waited. Forty-five minutes until their reservation- Alfred had better be quick about this ‘coming back to life’ business.

For a moment, nothing happened. Arthur had been beginning to lose hope, beginning to wonder if the Definitely-Not-Human-Skin tome had been little more than a cheap Halloween decoration. But then, the earth beneath him shifted. There was something shifting around down there, or, rather, someone.

A hand burst through the dirt, clawing desperately towards the sky. Arthur, recognizing the engagement ring on Alfred’s finger, lunged forward and grasped his palm in both his hands. He pulled as hard as he could, the hand eventually giving way to an arm, and then a shoulder, and finally, to the rest of Alfred.

At first, Arthur could just stare. Alfred’s body, once decomposing, slowly began to knit itself back together until he looked, well, sort of normal. Alfred just stared back at him, light blue slowly pouring back into his milky white eyes. They weren’t as clear or brilliant as before, sure, but Arthur didn’t mind in the slightest. Alfred always looked perfect, even as maggots wriggled in the flesh of his crudely reconstructed body.

“Baaaaaaaaabe?” He rumbled, his voice garbled and slurred. Arthur could only laugh then, pulling his fiancé into a hug.

“Oh, Alfred, it’s so good to see you! Ha, don’t you bite me, now, I’ll not be responsible for some zombie apocalypse.”

“Ha. Ha.” Alfred’s raspy voice replied, jerking an arm up to Arthur’s back to give him a squeeze. “Missed...you. Sorry…”

“Hush, Alfred, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Arthur blinked quickly, shaking his head. He’d known the moment Alfred died that he would be bringing him back, but still, having the weeks without him...Arthur never wanted to do that again. And now that Alfred was back... it was a good feeling. “We do have a dinner reservation in like half an hour, though, so we’d better get going. It’s a good thing you’re already in your best suit.” He leaned back, pressing a kiss to Alfred’s cheek. Alfred’s lips twitched into something that resembled a smile.

As they pulled up to The Boathouse, Arthur slipped out of the passenger side. Alfred’s parking job was crooked as all hell, but it still wasn’t the worst he’d ever done. Perhaps it had been a mistake to put Alfred behind the wheel, but Arthur didn’t really like to drive, and besides, Alfred had geeked out once he saw the rented vehicle. He’d run up to the driver’s side as quickly as he could manage, which, to be fair, wasn’t very fast for the time being. Rigor mortis was not being kind to Alfred for the moment, and all his movements were jerky and stiff. It might ease up over the course of the night, but, even if it didn’t, Arthur found the way he moved to be absolutely fascinating. 

Walking up to the restaurant with Alfred, Arthur held on to his fiancé’s hand, giving him a smirk. “I think I shall drive on the way back, Love. As much as I’d prefer not to, I’m a little worried that if I let you, I shall have to reanimate someone else before the night is out.”

“Boooo.” Alfred groaned in response. Arthur’s smile only widened.

The hostess of the restaurant seemed rather uneasy as she sat the two of them down at their table. Why, Arthur couldn’t begin to fathom. Even their waiter made little more than fleeting eye contact with them, practically throwing their menus to avoid stepping close to the table. Arthur just gave him a polite nod, opening it up and looking over the options. 

“Well, I think I shall be getting the Lobster Thermidor. And you, Darling?”

Alfred grinned then, a little more easily. He waggled his eyebrows.

“Braaaaaaaaaaaaains.” He snickered, and Arthur couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Oh, aren’t you funny. I already told you, no one is starting an apocalypse tonight. We can talk about it in the morning.” Arthur’s lips twitched up into a grin.

Alfred smiled, and, rather than giving the wheezing chuckle Arthur expected, he started to laugh. Sure, it was deep and bone-chilling and almost definitely not of this world, but it was still Alfred’s laugh, and Arthur’s heart melted at the sound of it. Then, Alfred looked back at his menu.

“Seared scallop pasta...looks good.”

Arthur nodded, and, once the waiter returned, relayed their order back to him. The waiter, again, would not get anywhere near their table, but that was no matter. Even if Arthur did have to speak up a bit for the other man to hear him, as long as the order was taken, it was alright.

As they waited, Arthur looked at his fiancé, fiddling with his own engagement ring that Alfred had spent way too much on. Alfred’s gaze wandered now, cloudy blue eyes taking in the restaurant and its patrons. He was still Alfred; Arthur was sure of it. Sure, he was pallid, and his body was...misshapen in some places. Sure, there was a weird wet ooze that soaked the front of his suit. Sure, he walked like a doll without articulated joints, and sure, his voice sounded as if there was dirt in his lungs. And, sure, his chest did not have the rise and fall of breath, indicating that perhaps Alfred no longer needed to breathe at all. But he was his fiancé, and, had they gotten married, Arthur would have pledged to love him until death parted them. Hell, Arthur loved him so much that death had failed to part them.

Alfred’s eyes refocused on him, and he smiled. “ Arthur…” He clumsily jerked his hand across the table, taking Arthur’s warm palm into his cold one. “Love...ya.”

Arthur felt a warm, soft smile spread across his lips as he looked down at their hands. It had only been a few weeks since he’d lost Alfred in the first place, but he’d gone far too long without hearing his partner say that he loved him. He blinked back misty eyes and nodded.

“I love you too, Alfred. So very much.”

When their meals arrived, the waiter’s hands subtly trembled as he set their plates down. Arthur pretended not to notice. He also pretended not to notice the way Alfred tore into his food- like he was a barely contained animal with a crazed hunger that flashed in his eyes only momentarily. Still, when Alfred looked at him, his eyes contained only warmth and adoration, so Arthur decided he wouldn’t worry about it too much.

After dinner, Arthur paid their bill, and helped Alfred to his feet. They left the restaurant, Arthur hugging his fiancé’s arm and nuzzling against his shoulder. He was sure the staff was glad to have them out of the building, and, to be honest, Arthur was glad for the fresh air. Alfred didn’t exactly smell the best anymore, but it was nothing a bath and some cologne couldn’t have helped. 

“Tonight was really nice, Al.” Arthur hummed, looking up at him. “I’m really glad we got to go out again. It’s...” His voice thickened. “It’s been really hard without you, you know.” 

Alfred slid his arm up Arthur’s back with more grace than he’d possessed the entire night, and gently squeezed Arthur to his side. He pressed a clammy kiss to Arthur’s temple, his eyes sad and apologetic.

“I didn’t...wanna leave you.” He murmured, and Arthur nodded, rubbing his eyes with a closed fist.

“I know, Alfred. I know. And I don’t...blame you, for what happened. You tried to do what was right, and you probably saved a life in the process. I only wish you’d come out unscathed.”

They reached the car, and Arthur opened the passenger side for Alfred before he climbed behind the wheel. He smiled at him, and, as they drove, he held his hand across the console. They rode in silence- not uncomfortable, but not quite comfortable either. Arthur wondered where Alfred had gone after he died- if he’d gone anywhere at all. But although he knew Alfred could answer him, he didn’t ask. He wasn’t meant to know what happened to a human soul after death, and he was alright with leaving it a mystery. As long as Alfred was alright, that was all the information he needed to know.

As they pulled back up to the cemetery, Alfred sat up, looking confused.

“Here?” He looked at Arthur, tilting his head. “What about...home?”

Arthur parked the car and turned off the headlights. “I know, my Love. I wish you could come back with me, too. But...you can’t, we both know it. What is your family going to think if your grave is empty tomorrow? And besides- I’m a little worried about the effects of keeping you out here for too long.”

Alfred’s lips drew into a pout. “Wouldn’t bite anyone...” He crossed his arms, looking down at his lap.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t. All the same, I think this is for the best.” Arthur got out of the car and went around to open the trunk. He pulled out a shovel and motioned for Alfred to follow. Reluctantly, Alfred obeyed, getting out and shuffling up the hill to the place he’d been buried.

“Right, then. In you go- according to the book I read, once you’re back in there, you’ll...you’ll fall asleep, and...you know. You’ll go back to wherever you were before I woke you.

Alfred looked down at the dark, damp hole, and shot his best puppy eyes at Arthur. Arthur crossed his arms and acted like he wasn’t affected, but they both knew it wasn’t true.

“Goodbye, Al. I’ll miss you.” He gave him a little smile, but his lip wobbled.

“I don’t wanna go.”

“I know.”

Alfred sat down at the edge of his grave, legs dangling as he stared down into it. He sighed, shoulders slumping as he started to ease himself back in.

“Ah, fuck,” Arthur murmured, shaking his head. “I’ll wake you up again next week, okay? We’ll stay in- we’ll order pizza and watch a movie. As long as you promise we’ll have you back in here before sunrise.”

With a surprising fluidity, Alfred shot up out of his grave and crushed Arthur to his chest in a hug.

“Okay! I love you!”

Chuckling, Arthur hugged him back, pressing a soft kiss to cold lips. “And I love you. Now, get back in there before I change my mind.”

Nodding, Alfred wasted no time in hopping down and lying in the splintered remains of his casket. He smiled up at Arthur and waved before he closed his eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep.

It took almost an hour, but, shovelful by shovelful, Arthur filled Alfred’s grave back in. He finished it up with a resounding pat-pat, then “borrowed” a rose from a nearby tomb and placed it down at Alfred’s headstone. He pressed a kiss to his dirt-crusted fingertips, then pressed his fingertips to the cool stone.

“See you next week, my Love. Sleep well.”

And with that, Arthur hefted the shovel up onto his shoulder and headed down the hill, already thinking about what movies they’d watch on their next date.

[nagia-pronounced-neijia]

scream (until you’re satisfied)

It's a quiet night for once: peaceful, even.  The sun sits low on the horizon, casting gloam over the usual summer mist; insects buzz in the trees, loud and soft and loud again.  Ligiea smiles out her open kitchen window at the little copse that has taken over the edge of the complex parking lot, then slides her thumb over her phone for the last time before she starts on her dishes.

On the windowsill, a bluetooth speaker -- designed to look like an antique radio; it had delighted Nate for about four seconds before he realized he couldn't actually tune it -- begins to croon a soft jazz cover of an early 90's grunge song.  She smiles, humming along, and gets to work rinsing tzatziki and chili sauce from her plates.

Something rustles in the copse.  She doesn't hear it; she sees birds suddenly burst from the green, wings beating, out of the corner of her eye.  She sets the pan she'd fried her flatbread in back down in the sink, watching with instincts sharpened by too much shit having tried to kill her.

She hasn't made it back to the dishes when the scream cuts through the night.  It lasts so long and comes so deep from within someone's throat that she hears it gurgle for a beat before it pitches back up.  When the voice finally gives out, there's only enough time for a sharp intake of breath before it starts again.

Ligeia ignores the chills that roll down her spine, the hot-cold rush of adrenaline through her veins.  She picks up her holster and pepper spray, the Agency-issue Volt, and  tucks her badge into her pocket.  Detective Attano steps out the door, pacing in the direction of the scream.

##

First fun fact of the night: the scream didn't come from the damn woods.  That would have made sense.

Second fun fact of the night: Bobby's standing at the entrance to the laundromat.  This makes Ligeia instantly suspicious, and he apparently knows it.  The red ambulance lights flash onto his face and then off again, lighting him up before they leave him in shadow, and it makes what he clearly wishes were a fetching smile look demented.

"Miss me, angel?"

Ligeia bites down on her first reply, because she can't think of their college years -- or make a crack about her annual fucking chlamydia infection when she'd dated him -- without wanting to hit something.  She smiles like she doesn't want to punch her ex and says, instead, "What do I do with myself when I'm not watching your career circle the drain?"

That one hits the mark.  He flinches and takes a reflexive step back, like she'd slapped him.  And then he pours on the greasy smile, but there's an angry edge, a tightness, to his smile.  "I see dinner didn't go down so well all alone."

She's not allowed to say, 'shut up and get out of my way,' but she can say, "This is a crime scene, Bobby.  Just because the caution tape's not up doesn't mean you get to lurk."  She makes a shooing motion with her fingers.

He's not dumb enough not to move, but she hears his feet on the concrete as he tries to peer through the windows into the darkened building.

Third fun fact: when the ambulance is sitting in the parking lot with its lights on, and the paramedics are sitting uselessly in the open back of the bus, there's no good news.  Ligeia nods at Jeri and Ryan, and mouths three letters.

Ryan just nods dejectedly.  Beside him, Jeri winces, shrugs, and mouths them back: DOA.

Ligeia doesn't let herself sigh, much though she wants to, and jerks the door open.  She ignores the words "Spin Cycle 365" printed in white on the glass, focused as she is on finding the lightswitch.  It takes a few useless, obnoxious moments of groping in the dark before her fingers touch plastic.  She flips three switches in a row and the lights return with a click and a buzz.

She sees exactly how Jeri and Ryan had come to the conclusion of 'DOA.'  It's rather hard not to, given that the poor girl had fallen onto the floor, eyes wide and staring, mouth still open in a scream.  But there's no sound coming out of her throat anymore.  No breath in those apparently very powerful lungs.  Pale white marks dot the very corners of her mouth and jaw.

Ligeia kneels down next to the girl, considering, and pulls a pair of latex gloves from her blazer pocket.  She skips looking for any kind of trauma -- there would be blood, probably -- and instead picks up the girl's hands.  The victim's fingers are cool and soft, still flaccid rather than in rigor mortis, and it is the worst kind of intimacy.

She can't imagine how Verda does this every day.  Maybe she just likes people and all their intricacies too much.

Not a single defensive wound.  Not even a sign she'd thrown her arms out to catch herself as she fell. That's a reflex; she must have been unconscious or dead before she started to fall.

There's no new sound, but she feels something like a shift in the barometric pressure of the room.  Adam and Morgan both have a quality to them, an intensity that seems to suck up all the air and interest, even when nobody's looking at them.

Ligeia straightens.  "Looks like a heart attack, but I'll know more after Verda or the Agency pathologists take a look," she says.  She doesn't need to look back to know they're watching.  "Will we let Doctor Turner and Verda take the lead on this, or is the Agency going to take custody of her just in case?"

The words come out professional.  Not cheery, certainly, but smooth, practiced.  Like her heart isn't beating hard inside her chest, like she's not thinking about Murphy.  Like there's something going on in her head other than an endless litany of a prayer she keeps hoping she'll get to stop praying: no more deaths, please, not in my town.

"This is a known phenomenon to the Agency," her mother's voice says.  The tone is endlessly gentle.  "We'll take custody."

It takes her a few more moments to look away from the girl and the blue puddle of laundry soap.  It smells like fake tropical flowers and banana; it's probably called something like 'Bahama Breeze.'

#

Ligeia drives back to the warehouse, stopping only for fuel and a cup of petrol station coffee.  It's thick and tarry as the stuff she puts in her car, smells about as astringent, but it wakes her up.  Unit Bravo beat her back by at least fifteen minutes.  That doesn't surprise her, given her slow car and pit stop.

What does surprise her is that Adam is waiting for her by the entry.  He had been standing stiffly by the wall, like particularly handsome statuary, and as she passes him, he unbends.

"So what was I looking at in there?"

"A fae victim," is Adam's reply.  He stops moving when she does.

Ligeia starts putting together 'fae,' 'screaming,' 'laundry,' and 'death,' and what she comes up with makes her groan.  "You're kidding, right?"  But this is Adam, and he wouldn't joke about this.  Not even Farah would.

"They aren't what the folktales make of them," is his reply, steady and a little snide, like usual.  He sounds a little softer when he adds, "So few of us are."

They've had the talk about his disapproval of humans romanticizing vampires.  She even understood it, to an extent.  She felt the same way about the slew of torture porn and serial killer movies that came out in the early 2000's.  She still feels that way about the Purge movies and the way they glamorize surviving violence, the way they assume everyone's first thought is murder.

Point is, Ligeia sees where he's coming from.  She doesn't push.  She stays right where she is, just a little too close to him to be professional.

"I guess I should go inside and find out what they're really like," she says.

Adam holds the door for her.  She turns her head just enough to look over her shoulder at him as she goes through.  She offers him a smile and watches his jaw relax by a fraction.

Nate smiles up at her from where he's found an armchair -- she could swear he's always making himself smaller, and he's so big that the back of her neck thanks him, but she hates it, too.  There's a haunted edge to the way half his jaw has tensed, and when the smile slips, she can see that his focus on her has wisped away.  He's the same Nate as always, but he's somewhere else right now.  Somewhen else.

Morgan's the one who says the word.  She breathes it out around grey smoke, her tone heavy and dark not only from the cigarette but from her own closely guarded feelings.  "Banshees," she says, and near her, Farah actually sighs.

[tjlikesprettythings]

Joshua Tree Playlist-A Macriley Fic

So I’ve done it again, not sure what’s wrong with me or where this came from but enjoy my obsession. Thanks for the motivation and support from my other posts. I’m still waiting for my invite from Ao3 but wanted to share this monster with you guys. 

This fic was inspired by music that I thought fit the general tone of this story, so I decided to make a spotify playlist linked Joshua Tree Playlist hence the name. Now of course you guys don’t have to listen to it, I know we all have different preferences, but I would recommend listening to the last song by Dylan Schneider “Wannabe” so you get the full context of what I was trying to write. I also mention the songs that I recommend listening to. Well anyways Enjoy and do let me know what you think!

This is very long, just a heads up! Please let me know if I should continue writing. 

Joshua Tree Playlist

Chapter 1: Day 1

Mac sat on the deck after his run, another sleepless night. The nightmares felt more and more real each day. Looking out on the early morning LA skyline he felt like a stranger in his own life. There was so much anger in him that he didn’t know what to do with himself. The loss, the tragedy that was his life felt like a weight he couldn’t bear. He’d give anything to go back to that pressure chamber in Georgia again instead of this, at least things made sense then. He was spiralling, he was aware. Scrubbing his hands across his face he let another breath pass. He didn’t hear her coming but saw her shapely bronze legs standing in front of him dressed in khaki shorts and a black singlet one hand holding a backpack and the other on her hip. It was definitely early for her to be up, especially on an off day. 

He raised an eyebrow at her, “what’s up Riles?” 

“Get up, we’re going on a trip.” She simply said swinging the backpack at his feet. 

“What?” he was confused by the situation unfolding in front of him, maybe he was dreaming? 

She turned to walk back into the house, “You heard me Macgyver, get your ass in the car in 5!”

He stood up and swiped the backpack off the floor and chased after her. She was already in the truck sunglasses pulled down with her arm out of the window, fingers drumming against the door. “Riley.”

She nodded her head in the direction of the car, “come on, we haven’t got all day! Get in!”

He could have stood his ground but honestly, he was too tired to argue with her. So he threw his backpack in the back and got into the passenger seat. She started the car and connect her phone to the Bluetooth, a playlist called Joshua Tree Playlist that was curated by Riley Davis came on the on-screen deck. He discovered that Riley didn’t just listen to Beyonce, old school rap, and rock. Her music like her was multifaceted and ranged from what you’d expect to complete surprises. He even walked in on her listening to Harry Styles to which she had just shrugged and simply said “I’m confident in myself to like what I like, besides watermelon sugar is a tune.” But currently, she quickly scrolled and threw on Mumm-ra’s “Summer” the indie rock song had a classic indie bass and guitar combo as the intro, she shimmed her shoulders to the music. He couldn’t help but actually crack a smile at her antics. 

Her head turned to him then as she bopped to the music and gave him that brilliant smile lipping the words to the song “I’m only happy in the summer...I’m only happy with you, lover...” She was like a prism, all clear but as soon the light hit her she was vibrant colors and sounds. “Now that’s more like the Mac I know. Nice to have you back for a second.” 

Her words hit him fully, leave it to Riley to bring him back down to earth. To notice that he was struggling. He didn’t know what to say, so he opted for the next best thing. “Are you going to tell me where this semi-voluntary kidnapping is going?”

“Hey, no kidnapping vibes here. We’re taking a couple of days and chilling out. Matty already approved it. We have four days to ourselves. So we’re going on a road trip! Next stop Joshua Tree.” She simply stated as she drove down the hill and towards I-10E.

He widened his eyes and gave his head a shake, letting loose a chuckle he threw up his hand and let them slap his highs. “Ok! I’ll bite.” the brilliance of her smile made him feel like he made the right choice, the breeze already warm blew in through the open windows, the loose strands from her bun floating around her face. 

“Yea! Bozer is going to meet up with us there, he has an errand to run before. Unfortunately, Desi can’t make it, she’s on a mission.” she said sparing him a glance.

He shifted in his seat if he were honest, he was now just looking forward to spending time with her and Boz. “Yea, probably for the best.”

She didn’t say anything waiting for him to continue if he wanted to. The great thing about Riley was she pushed when there was something worth pushing for but otherwise gave him space to talk to her on his own time. Without saying it, he could feel her body asking him if he and Desi were ok.

“I’m not sure I’m what she needs right now.” He simply stated and the unstated that he probably didn’t need their complicated and messy relationship right now either. They were too volatile and while that gave spark to great sex, it left everything else scorched and untouchable. It wasn’t fair for Desi to be stuck with him while he was stuck in his head.

He watched Riley shift in her seat, lately, he noticed there was a strange distance between them but then here she was stealing him away as the old Riley would. Maybe four days would give him the answers to why he felt like she was slipping away slowly, the thought put such a tight feeling in his throat, he couldn’t lose one more person. Especially not Riley, not his amazing, smart, loyal, beautiful friend singing along to a cover of Billy Joel’s “Vienna”. Suddenly it was easy to smile again, it didn’t take all of his efforts. “Hey, did you pack my bag for me? Or am I gonna have to survive in these running clothes for four days?”

He didn’t think to change when she gave him 5 minutes to meet her at his truck.

“I got you, Mac, everything you need is in there boy! Why would I give you an empty backpack?” she tapped on with the music and threw him another smile. If the next few days were going to be filled with smiling Riley he was already glad she kidnapped him voluntarily.

“Did you go through my underwear and sock drawers?!” He asked narrowing his eyes and laughing as a soft blush spread across her cheeks, Riley Davis can be bashful what do you know. 

“I mean we’re all adults here, no need for this juvenile behaviour. Yes, I packed your undies and socks.” He could see her rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses, but he was amused by the blush that graced her face. Mac always thought Riley was attractive, men and women constantly commented on her beauty. Her looks helped them with countless ops. He wasn’t blind, just looked past the obvious. She was his friend, Jack’s daughter, and a relationship he couldn’t sacrifice. But these moments when they’re alone and he could look at her and steal glances he saw just how gorgeous she was as a being. 

They had become closer the past couple of years for sure, he felt completely at ease with her. Could talk to her about anything, seek her counsel about things that were on his mind. She usually could read him already ready to jump into whatever stupid situations he got himself into. Even now he couldn’t believe that she followed him into Codex. She had told him she trusted him, and he felt like he could breathe just from those words. Knowing she stood with him gave him the strength to follow through. 

They stopped for coffee and bagels, laughing about the guy in front of them that took ages to order. They made fun of a couple of housewives of Beverly hills type and how Bozer would’ve recognized who they are. It was just easy his mind kept saying to him. When he pointed to a smidge of cream cheese in the corner of her mouth, she attempted to licked it away with her tongue, he couldn’t help but gulp down some of his iced coffee and watch her miss it. Reaching over he brushed the side of her lips and without thinking licked his thumb clean. She froze for a second and looked at him with an intensity that he couldn’t read. “You were struggling” he shrugged. 

“Thanks,” was all she said with an almost shy smile, unaware of course of how that small act sent fire all over her. She was thankful that she was on her last bite and he was already finished with his bagel, now casually leaning back in his chair letting the sun warm his face, his golden hair casting a halo around him. She needed to run away, “ready to start the journey again?”

Smiling he stood, they took their unfinished coffee and bottles of water with them. For the next 15 minutes, they joked about the new episodes of Rick and Morty, as more of her playlist played in the background, glancing at the screen he saw the current song was “Good Life” by Randell Kent. The lyrics washing over him as they finally pulled into the expressway. This could be a good life, at least it felt that way right now. 

They passed the next 15 minutes in silence, but it was the kind they had often where it was just comfortable. They didn’t feel the need to fill the void. They just listened to music and watched the road and let their minds wander.

She hummed along with the new song that came on, he never noticed that she had a pretty nice singing voice. “...don’t overthink it...just surround me...hmm” LÉON's "Surround Me" played in the car. He leaned against his window and watched her quietly.  “Why don’t you take a nap, I know you didn’t sleep much last night. We’ve got another 2-hour drive ahead of us.” She finally says to him softly turning the music down a bit and rolling up the windows opting for the ac.

Of course, she noticed, it wasn’t a big secret that he had been spiralling out of control. He wasn’t sleeping or eating well, his mind obsessing over Codex. But now there was nothing but a jumbled mess of things and just pure grief and exhaustion left behind in the aftermath. Strangely enough, he actually felt ok enough to take her up on the offer, she made him feel safe. Knowing she was going to be here when he opened his eyes brought a feeling of comfort and peace he was struggling to have, it was like the darkness couldn’t get to him. “Yeah ok.”

He drifted and for the first time in a long time found sleep came quickly and a dreamless sleep took him over. No nightmares, just soft hum engulfed him. It was when he felt warm fingers on his cheek brushing back some hair did he open his eyes and came face to face with Riley’s hazel eyes and full lips. He blinked a few times to adjust to the light. “Hey,” she said softly. 

“Hey, are we here already?” He asked sitting up, it didn’t escape his mind that he didn’t mind that Riley was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, it never did but he filed it away with any other thoughts that ever came into his mind about her that seemed more than friendly behaviour. 

She stepped away from him and cleared her throat and nodded, “yea, we’re here. I’m glad you got some sleep” she smiled again. She was entranced with watching him sleep, she almost didn’t want to wake him, he was beautiful, soft and so vulnerable in this moment. She knew how much he was struggling, which made her predicament even more complicated. How could she tell him she would be moving out? Instead, her brilliant idea was to steal him away for a few days. She was playing with fire, but she also knew that as strong as he was, any more change might send him over the edge. She decided she’ll tell him about her move after this trip, but her priority will always be to protect him, her heart can deal with it. 

His own faced turned up, “yeah I guess I needed it, and who knew what I needed was you humming off-key to songs in the background to fall asleep.” She swallowed and told her heart to stop its stupid summersaults. 

“I’ll make you some tracks and make sure they’re extra off-key! I’ll be your white noise” she said quickly teasing back. 

“My very own ghost.” his eyes crinkling in the corners. This was the most she’s seen him smile in a while. 

Rolling her eyes and doing a mock laugh “careful or I will haunt your ass for real” to which she got full dimples, this was going to be four long days.

“Ok so I got us a house actually” she cheekily said pointing at the well-maintained terra cotta colored house they were parked in front of on top of a hill surrounded by sky and desert landscapes with cacti and boulders, the house faced the road below that brought them into town. The front porch had a couple of lounge chairs, a table for four, a couple of lanterns neatly hung around the arches and a small pathway that led to a circular covering what he deduced was the hot tub. There were shrubs and succulents neatly planted around the house giving some green to the otherwise very warm hue of the area. 

Mac looked around and already his head felt lighter under the sky that just seemed bluer here, probably because the air pollution was nonexistent here. He sheepishly said, “I kinda thought we’d be camping,” rubbing the back of his neck, “but the house looks nice.”

“Listen, we can camp I bought everything, but we can also stay in this awesome house with a hot tub, pool, and functioning toilets and showers.” she shrugged tucking her hands into the back pockets of her shorts. “What can I say, I’m a city gal and honestly we do ‘camp’ a lot for work.”

He shook his head lightly, “yeah I guess you got a point there,” thinking of all of the times they did camp out without any real equipments. “You thought of everything huh?” He asked softly taking her in fully. “Thanks, Riles.” watching her smile and nod made his heart feel warm, a feeling he’s been missing for a while.

As if on cue Bozer pulled up behind them. Riley’s smiled widen. Mac turned towards the car and he thought he was seeing a ghost. Then he heard the familiar sound of a Texan drawl. He turned to Riley wide-eyed and then back at where Bozer stepped out of the car with a shit-eating grin and next to him was none other than Jack Dalton. 

“How’s it going hoss!” He waved with a laugh as he approached Mac and took his hand and pulled him into a hug.

“Jack! Man, it’s so good to see you.” Mac said hugging the older man hard, he felt his eyes water just a bit.

Jack pat his back and pulled away smiling, “it’s good to see you too, kid.”

“Yeah, the OG gang is back together” Bozer claimed jumping with excitement.  

Jack turned to Riley and embraced her, “Hey baby girl!” Pulling her off the ground as she shrieked with laughter. Riley held onto Jack for a moment longer before releasing him and smiling, she didn’t hide the tears that were softly rolling down her face now. 

“I’m so glad to have you back.” She said softly. Jack brushed away tears from her cheek and nodded. 

“Me too.” he turned to look at his crew and smiled at the kids that somehow came to mean the world to him. “So we ready for this crazy weekend or what?!” his arm still around Riley. 

“Hell yeah!” exclaimed Bozer already heading to the trunk of his car to grab his and Jack’s bags. 

Mac just stood dumbfounded for a second taking in the 3 most important people in his life and finally feeling something, he’s been so scared that something in him was shifting but seeing them here smiling at him brought back the warmth he felt has been slowly seeping away. “Thank you, guys.”

“Come on man, we’re family,” Bozer said squeezing his shoulder. 

“You always got us,” Jack added a giant grin. “Alright now, let’s get settled and decide what we’re doing. I’m craving a cold one for sure!” He said picking up his bag.

Riley on cue walked over to the door and pressed in the security code into the door handle and opened up the door. “Welcome to the digs boys, we’ve got the living room” pointing to the right, “the master bedroom just past there as well as the second bedroom. Just ahead is the dining room and kitchen, around the hall to the left we have the other two bedrooms and bathroom. Laundry room and back porch with the grill AND pool. You saw the fire pit and hot tub in the front of the house.” she said sweeping both her arms around the house that was meant to be their home for the next four days. 

“Damn Riley! You did good!” Bozer said as he scanned the house, decorated with a mix of modern and country house feel. Walking over to the kitchen he hummed in approval, “I can work with this! I’m gonna grab the groceries!” he bounced back out the door. 

Jack gave a whistle of approval, “man, after the places I’ve been sleeping in, I’m gonna sleep like a baby!” as he went around ducking into rooms and giving his approval.

Mac didn’t care much about the house but did agree it was a nice one with all the comforts of home. 

Riley suddenly stood in front of him and gave him a warning “Macgyver don’t use any part of this house, I would like to get my deposit back.” He laughed holding up both hands in agreement. 

Jack turned the attention back to the group, “ok kids whose taking what room?”

“Riley should have the master,” Mac said right away. Jack did jokingly protest that he’s the one who’s been sleeping on rubbles and jungle floors. Bozer bounced into one of the bedrooms to the right, jack decided to take the bedroom next to Bozer. Which left him and Riley to the right side of the house. “Masters all yours.”

She smiled, “umm you sure you don’t want it?” to which he shook his head, all of the bedrooms where sizeable with queen beds and dressers, it honestly didn’t matter and being the only girl they didn’t mind giving her the room with space and vanity table so she can paint her face as jack put it to which she rolled her eyes. “So there is the bathroom down the hall next to the other bedrooms but one here on our side the bathroom is actually in the master, so feel free to use it if you need it. The shower in there looks amazing!” She said nervously.

He smiled “yea ok.” He helped her unpack the car and bring her bag into her bedroom. He looked around “maybe I should take this room,” which earned him a light shove at his shoulder and he chuckled. 

“Too late it’s mine now. Ok! So I say we get changed grab some lunch and chill for a bit while we plan the next few days.” She laid out the plans looking up at him both hands on her hips and she stretched forward towards him. That familiar hammering came back in her chest, the next thing she knows he’s embracing her. “Mac…”

He just needed to be close to her just for a second, releasing her from the embrace he softly said, “I just...I know I said thank you, but really, thank you.”

She held onto his biceps and squeezed them, ignoring the way that made her feel she just smiled at him “hey what are friends for if not to kinda kidnap you for a mini-vacation.” He laughed and she decided that was her favorite sound. Letting her hands fall to her side, “go get settled, I’m sure Boz will make us something to eat, I’m starving.”

He smiled once more and left her standing in the middle of her room feeling so many things. The next four days were going to be the hardest four days of her life she reminded herself again. She survived two years in prison, she’ll be fine, she hoped. Taking a deep breath she walked into the kitchen where she could already hear Jack and Bozer. 

Bozer was laying out sandwich meats and cheese he had picked up while swatting Jack’s hands away from stealing slices of the cold cuts. She felt a bit emotional seeing them goofing around, something about Jack being home made her feel like everything was going to be ok, that Mac would be ok and she would have the strength to get over what was currently happening to her in regards to Mac.

“Some things never change.” She heard Mac say softly now changed into a pair of trousers t-shirt and button-down. “Thanks for the clothes you picked out, I don’t think I could have picked better.”

Again she felt her face warm, what the hell was wrong with her. She couldn’t recall a time that she felt this affected. Usually, with guys she had found attractive, it was always coyness and subtle flirting but never did something so simple trigger this kind of response. She chalked it up to the heat even though the state of the art thermostat read a cool 70°. “Yea, of course, you’re welcome. And I’m glad that some things don’t change.”

Mac looked down at her, he agreed but maybe some things changing wouldn’t be too bad. Pulling up the chair at the kitchen island, they took the beers Jack handed them one by one raising his bottle “it’s good to be home, cheer!” They all clinked the bottles together and shouted cheers. Jack took a long swig off his beer, “Damn that’s good.” 

Mac couldn’t help but feel like he was transported back to a couple of years ago when things were simple and good. They saved lives and had fun. Everything seemed so much heavier and complicated these days. But right now at this moment, he felt the most present he’s felt in a year. 

“What are we having Boz, I’m starving!” Riley whined softly. 

“Girl I got you covered. I’m making a medley of sandwiches, you got a Cuban, prosciutto and mozzarella with balsamic vinegar and basil, and a BLT coming at you with my homemade mayo,” he said already working on prepping the bread with condiments. 

“Damn Bozer, have I missed your cooking!” said Jack with an excited glint in his eyes. 

“So I was thinking we take it easy for today don’t know about you guys but I could take a dip in that pool, we’ll start early morning for the hikes, if we want to camp tomorrow night we can, day 3 and 4 are open for whatever you guys want to do. We need to be back in LA by noon on monday.” Riley laid out the plans.

“Pool party, I’m in,” Jack said nodded seriously. 

“Me too! I can’t remember the last time I just had a day to do whatever I wanted.” Bozer said thoughtfully while working on their lunch.

“Yea, it’s been a lot going on hasn’t it.” He said picking at the beer bottle label. The room fell into silence for a moment, each reviewing the events of the past year if not longer. They lost so much as a collective but Mac and the most. 

Jack took another sip finishing off his beer and shook his head, “Nah, we’re here to have fun, let’s focus on that.” grabbing one of the pickles that Boze laid out, Bozer gave him a side-eye but said nothing. “This weekend we’re gonna unwind and be thankful for this beautifully weird place. Nothing is blowing up, no one is shooting at us, the worst thing will be the hangovers and food comas,”

Riley and Bozer both collectively knocked on the wood of the kitchen island, “don’t jinx it!”

To which Mac proceeded to explain that ‘jinx’ wasn’t a scientifically proven, and went into a ramble about logic. It wasn’t until he noticed all three of his friends smiling affectionately at him that he stopped dropped him head mouth curving into a smile. He knocked on the wood too just in case.

                                                         II

Twenty minutes later Bozer served them his masterpieces as he called them, and they all agreed that they were works of art. Jack had caught them up as much as he could on his mission with the deltas and catching Kovac, leaving the classified information out. It seems so natural that they wouldn’t give details, that they understood that somethings they could never talk about again. 

Finishing off his third sandwich Jack stood to plug his phone to charge “can you believe this phone lasted me almost 2 years?!” 

To which Mac rolled his eyes but his mouth still twitched upwards. “I can’t help that a phone has key components for most builds.”

“Yeah you left and it became either me or Riley. I feel like it was mostly me though.” Bozer said pouting. 

“Appreciate you picking up the slack, I already upgraded my insurance just in case.” Jack pointed at Mac. To which Boze and Riley hollered. 

Mac held up his hand and shook his head, “hey man I promise if I don’t need it, I won’t ask for it.” 

“Alright, Alright let’s get to the pool!” Jack said already pulling his shirt over his head. “Riley throw on some tunes, preferably something country or rock or close to my generation that we can all enjoy.”

It was Riley’s turn to roll her eyes, “don’t worry old man, I got us all covered. A bit of Brooks and Dunn, a bit of Ozzy,  a bit of Technotronic, a little Beyonce, and of course Drake for Bozer.”

Mac’s face squinted into lines. “Wait is Techtronic for me? Or is Beyonce for me?”

She laughed, “guess you’ll just have to find out, though I do recall you know the lyrics to at least one of Techtronic’s’ song.” her own eyes squinting to tease him. “Alright, I’m gonna go change, be right back.”

“Yeah ok fair enough, but only cause it was on the radio…saved your booty,” she heard him mumble as she passed him patting his shoulder. 

The guys were already set up by the pool when she walked out. Bozer managed to find a pool floaty from where they didn’t know and mildly suspected he might have packed the one that he was currently laying on and enjoying the sun. Mac and Jack sat next to each other with their feet in the water.

“I’m sorry about your old man.” Jack finally said softly. 

Mac’s lips pulled into a line before he sighed and looked down at the beer bottle in his hand “yea, as it turns out its hard to be mad at a guy that always chose the utilitarian method. He sacrificed himself, I wish I could just be sad or just angry but how I feel is just…” he didn’t know himself.

“Hey man, I get it. I know what it’s like to lose a father. No matter who and how he was as a person, he was still your dad.” Jack said placing a hand on Mac’s shoulder and giving a light squeeze. “But you know I‘m here if you gotta sort through all the jumbled mess in your head. I’ll be your sounding board.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that” He did appreciate it, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to, let alone where to start to untangle the mess that his life became. He was brought out of his brooding when Bozer whistled loudly.

“Damnnnnn Riley!” to which Jack knocked him off his floaty, when he resurfaced drawing water away from his face he whined, “I was just paying her the compliment she deserves!”

Mac knew that Riley had an amazing body, her tight jeans and crop tops proved this countless time if not by the countless gowns and tight dresses she had to wear for ops, but they’d never seen her in a bikini in the four years of working together. He swallowed hard and pretended not to stare, but it was hard when she was all bronze and glowing, toned abs and round hips, her smile radiant even if her eyes held a teasing annoyance at the attention. It suddenly felt hotter than 89°. 

Jack knew better than to tell her to cover up, and he knew that he could trust these guys but still, he pouted about her lack of clothing. “Jack, what do you want me to wear to the pool, a potato sack?”

“No, but...never mind!” he just mumbled. 

She shook her head, but she was trying to distract herself from the fact that Mac had looked at her hard, their eyes locked for a second and she could’ve sworn she saw something there, the way his adam’s apple bobbed make her skin tingle. She decided that she’d read it as a compliment. 

The rest of the afternoon passed with a game of pool volleyball, naps here and there or reading, Riley’s playlist playing in the background. Memories being solidified to sounds, smells, and feelings. She chided them to apply sunscreen and even offered to help with their backs. 

“Riley not sure if you’re aware but I’m black,” Bozer said to her proudly.

“So? Black people burn too and are you trying to get cancer?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

Deflated he shook his head no and sat down. One by the one they gave up the protests as she threw savage shade at them. She applied a boatload of sunscreen just cause they gave her a hard time and decided to snap some pictures as well for blackmail of course.

Mac was last and sat in front of her as she steeled herself and slowly applied the sunscreen to the back of his neck, the hair at his nape tickling her fingers. She worked quickly and ran her fingers between his shoulder blades down his back. She felt him tense and worked faster. As much as she enjoyed being able to touch him like this, it was also inappropriate. He didn’t know about her feelings, and she felt sleazy as if she were taking advantage of a friend. Closing the bottle cap shut, she lightly tapped his shoulders, “done, now you don’t have to be an embarrassing lobster.” She weakly cracked.

He wasn’t new to attraction, or the body’s response to the said attraction. He didn’t expect to be so affected by her fingers running down his back, her nails making a slow trail that left him imagining those nails digging into his back for a completely different reason. He cleared his throat, “thanks, wouldn’t want that.”  he managed as he looked over his shoulder. Fuck him, she was adorable as she chewed her bottom lip and nodded. Ok, maybe four days of this Riley was going to be a challenge.

                                                        II

Around later afternoon everyone decides to shower and get ready for the evening, agreeing to head into town and grabbing dinner there. They decided with the drinks they’ve had best to grab an Uber into town. The awkwardness of the poolside sunscreen still fresh as they piled into the car. It was a short ride but felt long as Riley sat squeezed between Mac and Bozer. Bozer just grinned, of course, him knowing her feeling about Mac was going to be her downfall. When they were dropped off, She felt like she had been holding her breath for hours.

“You ok?” Mac asked her to which she nodded.

“Yep, just need a drink!” His brows raised and he seconded that feeling because he definitely could use one.  

Walking around the old Pioneer town setup, Mac explained different tools and contraptions that were displayed around the old buildings from the 1800s, Jack dazzled them with stories about Texas that either made no sense or was inaccurate according to Mac, Bozer, and goggle. They decided to have dinner at Pappy and Harriet’s Pioneertown Palace, where the smell of barbecue wafted through the warm evening air, They could hear the bustle of music and glasses clinking. Bozer was already rushing in to get them a table saying something about getting his hands on some ribs. Jack hollered that he has to see if this place is as good as Texas barbecue.  

Mac looked down at Riley as her eyes sparkled with excitement the earlier awkwardness finally forgotten. Even though they’ve been everywhere in the world, this place had her vibrating. “I never knew you were a fan of the country life.”

She laughed, “I don’t know, I didn’t think that I was either, but there is something about this place that just, I dunno gets me kinda hyped.”

“Hey, guys they have a table for us!” Bozer shouted over the live music and chatter. Apparently they came on open mic night and the local dentist was doing this rendition of Hank Williams’ “all my rowdy friends” and killing it. The energy was just infectious.

They sat down as Bozer rubbed his hands together, “I already know this is gonna be the bomb. I mean can you smell that hickory?!”

“Hell yea I can!” Jack chimed in.

Mac smiled at his best friends, Bozer and Jack were always bouncing off each other in any room the three of them were in, but since Riley came into the picture they’re better behaved. They listen to song after song and the cheers of the crowd as they ate. Jack approved and hummed in appreciation. 

“I’ve missed this, the good ole USA, bbq, and country blues.” 

“Every song is about beer, a truck, a woman, but man is it catchy” Bozer stood busting out his moves as he called it. 

“Jack, it makes sense you should feel right at home at this place.” She said with eyes twinkling. 

Mac took a swig of his beer and chuckled, “This whole place is Jack if he were a bar, maybe throw in some Black Sabbath and ACDC in and you have Jack.”

Jack grinned and nodded, “ok, ok, you’re not wrong. I’m totally digging this place.” His eyes finding the eyes of a pretty blonde at the bar.

“Classic...” She agreed, crinkling her nose up in that adorable way when she found something slightly distasteful, thought Mac. For a moment they took the time to acknowledge the man who became a father to them both with affection. If they ever have to thank someone for their sincerity they could claim Jack as one of the big influencers. They’re musing was broken by Bozer shouting,

“Guys come on lets dance, how often do we get to do this anymore?” Bozer ushered them onto the dance floor. He already found himself a couple of dance partners. Ph.D. in partying Bozer was out tonight. 

It was true, they didn’t do these things anymore. Things haven’t been the same for a while. It’s only been about a year and yet he felt like his whole world shifted. An avalanche of shit hit him. 

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Jack jumped up and was already making a beeline for the woman at the bar. They could hear a vague “how you doing?”

Mac and Riley just rolled their eyes and joined Bozer on the dance floor as the new performer of the night decided to sing Shania Twain “Man, I Feel like a woman.” As soon as they joined Bozer, of course, within minutes Riley was stolen away for a dance. Mac was happy to watch her, the joy finally reaching her eyes today. Maybe they all needed this, a moment to stop and appreciate their lives. 

He liked seeing her like this, Riley was always fun to be around. But right now she was everything he thought to himself, everything about her made his heart feel full. Finishing his beer off, he decided that he wanted to be the one to dance with his friend. The more he played with the word, somehow it didn’t seem enough anymore to call her that.

“Can I steal her for this dance?” he asked not really waiting for an answer already pulling her close to him. “You good?” looking to make sure he wasn’t misreading the situation.

She looked up at him and nodded, “yeah, I’m good.” looking down at their joined hands, it was this hand-holding that started the thud in her chest in Germany, and here it was hammering away. She was so screwed. There was a part of her mind that asked her, why not? He’s not attached anymore, so why not? But she knew better, he didn’t need this right now. He didn’t need her feelings to complicate his life. Lost in her thoughts or the blues of his eyes she wasn’t sure which, she didn’t realize the music was changing as the next performer took stage and cheers were heard. 

The music changed to a slower one, something about it just seemed fitting and he’d watched her dance all night with other people but now it was his turn. He stepped up closer to her, her eyes on him as he took her hand and swayed with her. She laughed softly as they danced to a soft country song about a man who wanted to be a girl’s everything. How ironic.

“If you wanna be with a guy who's gonna bring you flowers A guy who's gonna talk on your phone for hours A guy who's gonna wanna hold the door for you When you wanna walkthrough A guy who's gonna pick you up A guy who's gonna take you out and make you Wanna get a little dressed up and get a little down”

She once told him that she wouldn’t mind a small town, the quiet, after all things they saw daily. He wondered if secretly she wanted to be one of those ‘girl next door’ country girl. He felt her warmth through the shirt she wore, his finger brushing the soft exposed skin of her midriff. It was like an electrical current ran through him, which was of course plausible and probably didn’t mean anything.

“I wanna be the guy with the roses Number on speed dial, ladies first, don't you know that's my style Hop into my truck I got plans We’ll head on down to Jimmy's and we'll do a little dance There's a lot of things in a small town a guy can be But if its by your side for the rest of my life Baby, you can call me, a wannabe (a wannabe) Be be a wannabe (a wannabe) (a wannabe) Be Be”

She knew how dangerous this was getting, but she couldn’t help herself just for this one song. Couldn’t help giggling when he spun her around and pulled her close. Couldn’t help but let her stupid heart thud at his deep laughter. Where she could touch him for a little while without question, without worry. She can feel the hair at the nape of his neck as she wrapped her arms around him because they were just dancing. This stolen moment getting filed away as one of the best nights she’s had to date. 

“If you wanna be with a guy whose gonna give you The whole world from the back of a dirt road farm Scribbled in ink with a big heart a tattoo on my arm I'm talkin' kissin' like crazy, can't shut it down Can't you see how I wanna be the guy that you’re out with Arm that's your names on”

With every sway, he felt like he was taking a step towards where he should be. The person he should be and wanted to be. The doubt that has been clouding over him slowly clearing a little. He felt like he could finally see the light shining through. If someone like Riley could stand next to him as the world ended then life couldn’t possibly be that bad, right? So for now at this moment, he pulls her closer, lets her scent make him dizzy. Lets his hand splay across the small of her back to let each finger feel her.

“Be the lips baby that you wanna put your lips on All-day, all night, moonshine, sunrise, your favorite song There's a lot of things in a small town a guy can be But if it’s by your side for the rest of my life, baby you can call me A wannabe (a wannabe) (a wannabe) Be be a wannabe (a wannabe) Be Be”

There is a cheer from the crowd and she laughs “This song is fucking catchy,” She says as he dips her, the audible gasp vibrating through her to him. He decided then that he loved dancing with Riley. He loved her laughs, the way her whole face lit up. 

“I wanna be the guy you make a life with, picket white fence with Maybe a little later hell even make a baby with Just you and me livin' that life long dream There's a lot of things in a small town a guy can be But if it’s by your side for the rest of my life”

He placed his forehead against hers and held her close. She glances up at him and his eyes hold hers. She’s mystified by their intensity, her body on fire from his breath fanning across her face. They were so close, he could kiss. He wanted to kiss her. As they got lost in each other, they failed to see the silly smile on Bozer’s face as he watched them or Jack who also softly chuckled from where he got distracted from wooing his lady friend Carla. If he was being honest, he can’t believe it took this long for them to get to this point. Well, he supposed he’ll have to have a chat with Mac about what he can expect if he hurts his little girl. Turning back to Carla he spared them one last glance then he was all Dalton, Jack Dalton. 

“Baby you can call me, a wannabe (a wannabe) (a wannabe) Be be You can call me your wannabe (a wannabe) Be Be A wannabe (a wannabe) (a wannabe) Be Be”

The crowd clapped cheered and whistled around them, he held her eyes still in a trance. Something definitely shifted between them. She cleared her throat and let him go smiling. “Thanks for the dance. That was so much fun.” Turning to make her way through the crowd to their table where a fresh bottle of beer was waiting for them courtesy of Bozer she assumed. She didn’t wait to see if he was following.

The heat from the dance coming off her now as if she had a full HIIT workout. She took a sip of the beer and before she could swallow it, he was standing next to her. 

“Riley…”

She gulped down the beer and looked at him, she was so fucked. 

[daddyzanchez]

An early Christmas-smut gift from your Daddyzanchez! I am wishing you all a great holiday with food, family, presents and love.

2000 words - erotica - F/M, Christmas, lingerie, dirty talk, vaginal sex, fingering, creampie

Link to story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921793

A Very Rickdiculous Christmas Present

When December started, Rick would usually start complaining, and when you tried out several techniques to get him into the Christmas spirit, like singing carols whilst cooking (much to his annoyance), he would usually say that the only spirit he could get into was that of vodka and then, with a shit-eating grin, he would hold out his little metal flask, a look of triumph on his face, before taking a sip.

“Rick,” you sighed, standing in front of him and pressing your hands into his chest, “It’s Christmas. We’re going to your family’s house on the 25th, aren’t you just a little excited?” 

“Chri-christmas is a wa-waste of time, might as well just have a pain-in-my-ass family dinner and bring a present,” he scoffed down at you, looking almost bored at the topic that usually had people on the edge of their seats in excitement, “Some guy walked on water and now people want to sh-share gifts to celebrate him? Don’t they know that they stole the whole concept from the Germanic peoples in Europe?”

“It brings people together, Rick,” you replied, hands sliding up to cup the back of his neck. You slide your fingers into the hair there, earning you a tiny smile from Rick. 

“So do funerals,” the answer made your smile fade and you sighed, rubbing his shoulders again, but Rick’s expression didn’t change a bit. 

“But it is about being with your family in a happy way and there’s also the joy of giving,” you tried again, pulling gently at the lapels of his lab coat. You pulled him down towards your mouth, but he hovered just above your lips. He was drunk; his breath smelled like alcohol and it made you crinkle your nose. 

“Y-you love the joy of receiving more,” he snorted and you let go off him with an annoyed sound and a roll of your eyes. Of course, he would turn a talk about Christmas into an innuendo. He let out a dry laugh at your face, “Sorry, baby, but the Christmas spirit is non-existent in me. I-I-I plan on being in the garage while we’re there, rather than listening to Jerry painfully trying to remember the words to s-several Christmas songs sung by Sinatra.” 

“Is that a challenge? Getting you into the Christmas spirit?” You winked at him, taking a few steps back to look at him properly. He seemed genuinely surprised that you hadn’t backed down already; apparently, he was not used to a person crossing him.

“Try me,” Rick simply replied, fishing out his flask, “You’ve already attempted at persuading with tedious stuff.”

“Are there any rules?” You put on a sly smile, tilting your head.

“There are never any rules,” Rick took a disgustingly large gulp of alcohol. He looked arrogant as he looked down at your face, too sure of himself to even think that you wouldn’t play dirty. Oh, how wrong he was.

*

The day at the Smith’s house passed just as Rick had said it would; him in the garage and the rest of you in the kitchen, snacking on the food whilst Jerry complained about maybe ending up not having enough for the actual meal if you continued, but as much as he was annoyed, he still hummed along to the radio.

Rick sat down at the table to eat, only to leave again immediately after. Even Beth couldn’t convince him to stay, and later, you saw her giving you a slight look of pity as you were unwrapping presents, “Sorry about him. I sometimes don’t know how you can stand him.”

“This? You know how he is, rambling on and on about the capitalist system making Christmas into a highly commercialised holiday, Beth,” you laughed, “I made a bet with him though, so we’ll see if I can manage to get him into Christmas spirit.”

“Rick? Christmas spirit? Right...” Jerry scoffed in the background. You turned to him, holding in a laugh as you laid eyes on the ridiculously ugly Christmas sweater you had given him.

“I have my ways,” you smirked, sending him a wink and Summer looked horrified as if she saw right through you. 

“Oh my God, gross,” she mumbled, getting out her phone to hide behind it. You just laughed again.

“Oh God, get the image out of my head,” Jerry cried and Morty soon caught up on what you had been implying.

“That’s gross!” Morty followed along, Summer snickering at her brother’s disgust.

“So that is why there’s no present from you under the tree for him,” Beth pointed out.    

*

The two of you (mostly Rick) had agreed on going home for the night. The car ride had been pleasantly silent, your head resting from the constant attention you had to give to the Smiths. Though Rick was silent too, he was silent in another kind of way, as if he was waiting - you figured that despite Rick having made such an effort to tell you how much he despised the holidays, he still danced around you after realising that he had yet to have gotten a present from you. What he did not know, was that you were his present. 

After you both came home, Rick immediately stripped to his boxers and went to bed. You kissed him whilst mumbling that you would be right there with him soon.

Now, you were finishing up in the bathroom and Rick was unaware of what you were doing. Never in your life have you ever had such trouble putting on lingerie; especially since lingerie made you feel embarrassingly unsexy to begin with. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and after what had seemed like an endless battle, some part of you laughed at the fact that it would take a moment, well, maybe a few moments at the most, before it was off again. The set was christmassy; a big bow covering your breasts and after trying three different approaches, you had managed to make it cover you up nicely and leave something to the imagination - at least until you pulled the bow and it unraveled.

I should have practised this beforehand, you thought to yourself as you walked awkwardly down the hallway and the walk to your bedroom seemed eternal. Whoever thought it was a good idea to make sexy christmas outfits clearly did not care about comfort at all because things were definitely going up places they shouldn’t and when you finally stood in front of the door, you had to reach down and pull a piece of silk ribbon into place. 

Taking a deep breath, you opened the door and Rick, who seemed to direct his attention at you to say something, only opened his mouth to shut it again. He was speechless and you grew nervous; the pose you had tried to strike faltering a bit, “Rick…”

The surprise on his face was there for several seconds, and you could have sworn that in the dimly lit room, you could see a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. Finally, he started to crawl across the mattress to sit on the edge of the bed, and whilst his eyes went over your scandalous outfit, you felt beyond relieved that he had not laughed at you. 

“Hoe, hoe, hoe, aren’t I lucky?” Rick whistled at you and you could only start giggling, taking a few steps as he beckoned you with his finger, “I-is this my present?”

“What does it look like?” You walked over to him as close as possible and by instinct, he reached out to place his hands on your hips.

“Can I unwrap you?” Rick asked, his hands running up your body to brush his fingers over the red silk of the bow “Now?” 

You pondered the question for a moment but then gained a boost of confidence; you did look sexy after all. It made you push him down onto his back and straddled his hips, and before he could protest, you leaned down to whisper at him, “Unwrap me? That’s not how we do it here, I want you to rip it off of me, Rick.” Fuck if your skimpy little outfit was torn, you had already agreed with yourself that you would not wear it ever again. In fact, you wouldn’t mind seeing Rick tear it to pieces before he fucked you senseless; that was how much you hated it. 

“Rip it, baby,” you cooed when his hands came up to bunch themselves up in the fabric. He looked hesitant for a few seconds but then pulled the outfit apart, the noises sending a shiver down your spine.

“Oh my,” Rick smirked as his eyes traveled down your now fully-exposed body, “Just what I wished for, h-h-how did you know?”

“I know you like the back of my hand, baby,” you removed the remaining pieces of fabric, throwing them onto the floor before leaning down over him to brush your lips against his. It was not exactly a kiss, but it also was not, not a kiss, “Now tell me, what does my baby want for Christmas? I could suck your big cock? Let you fuck me on all fours - sit on your dick, ride you? You’re free to choose.”

“Fuck,” Rick groaned beneath you, trying to arch his back so he could meet your mouth with his own, but you pulled back as he got closer.

“Choose,” your voice was smug as you knew that when he had blood running to his dick, he could barely think, let alone make a choice, “I know what I want but this is about you…”

He seemed to pull together all the brainpower he could muster, and if it had been you, he would’ve sent you a remark on how he could practically hear the cogs turn in your head. Don’t strain yourself, he’d say.

Suddenly, he managed to manoeuvre you onto your back from where you had been on top of him. Finally.

“There we go,” you cooed up at him as he knelt in front of you. You let your legs fall open to make yourself irresistible, reaching down between them to spread yourself open with two fingers. You could feel your heartbeat in your pussy, sensing a tingle as you grew wet from him starting to come closer, “S- what is it gonna be?” 

“I’m still deciding,” he mused, crawling to position himself between your legs. He shooed your hands away, cupping your whole cunt in the palm of his hand. It made you want to grind against it, but he was too busy inserting two fingers into you and twisting his wrist so he could press them upwards against your g-spot. 

“Decide- oh, decide faster,” you shivered, eyes fluttering closed to focus on the two digits slowly making their way in and out of you. 

“I thought this was for me,” he teased, reaching up with his thumb to rub your clit in small circles. You felt yourself get more and more aroused, his fingers in your cunt starting to make an obscene wet sound.

“This isn’t exactly doing anything for you,” you arched your back as he pressed his fingers upwards again, “I think you’ve misunderstood… I’m yours tonight. You can do whatever you want.”

“Fine, y-you want it like that? If you wanted to be treated like a little toy you got me for Christmas, you should’ve just said so, baby,” Rick pulled his fingers out of you again, leaving you empty without as much as a warning. His change of character was exciting, a little frightening even, as you weren’t sure what was next. It had you incredibly wet.

With a pleased grunt at the gasp you let out, he grabbed your hip to flip you onto your stomach. Fuck yes. 

He spent little to no time making sure you were comfortable, keeping up his promise that you were not the centre of attention right now, but merely just an item that he could get off on; a pretty little thing to stick his cock in. It meant that you felt his big cock slide inside of you in the next moments, causing you to gasp and curl the sheets between your fingers. 

“Fuck,” you swore with gritted teeth and Rick simply chuckled behind you, moving slightly on the bed and you could feel every jerk of his body inside of you. 

You slowly felt his weight on top of you, reaching back to cup the back of his neck to get him as close as possible. He let himself be pulled down, moving your hair out of the way and pressing a lazy kiss to the back of your neck. 

He then started fucking you, showing no intention to take it slowly and build up the tension smoothly. He was rough with you instead, crashing his hips against your behind and sending you nearly flying forward from underneath him. 

You quickly learned you had to hold on for dear life if you didn’t want to tumble onto the floor at some point. Though the whole ordeal made it impossible to find the power to do anything but cry out - the feeling of his thick cock inside of you overpowering every other point of interest right now. It burned too deliciously

“Rick!” You chose to call out his name to stroke his ego, then added a bit extra as soon as your head wasn’t swimming from a particularly hard thrust, “It’s- ah, it’s so good, baby. No one fucks me like this.”

It resulted in you feeling a hand come up to fist itself in your hair as soon as you had finished the sentence. He had liked that then, and you suddenly felt his damp breath against your ear. He tugged harder at the tufts between his fingers and made it clear that he wasn’t doing it to be playful. Had you said something?

“You make it sound like there’s m-m-ore guys than me,” he half growled and half moaned. There it was: Jealousy over nothing. Usually you would’ve told him off, but right now it was sexy… The possessiveness that was triggered by a meaningless attempt at dirty talk. You wished you could see his face; the sweat dripping from his brow as his hips ground into you, his intense eyes and utter disgust at the idea of you being with someone else, followed by the need to remind you who did it best.

“Even if there was, I’d come crawling back for your cock,” you chuckled breathlessly, struggling to get through your sentence as you felt your cunt clenching around him, “No one compares. No one can make me come like I’m about to quite like you.”

He swore as he sped up, wanting to come as much as you, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed with a wanton tone to your voice. You could feel your orgasm building, your toes curling and above you, Rick’s breathing was laboured and only getting more frantic. 

“I’m gonna come,” he announced. You reached up to grab at the back of his neck like before, pushing your behind against him so he could go deeper. He hit the perfect spot.

“You better fucking come in me,” you demanded, seeing stars, “Shit… There, oh my God, there!”

Your words turned into incomprehensible babble as the first contraction of your orgasm washed over you like a wave. You clenched around him rhythmically, coaxing his orgasm to time with yours. 

It worked. You heard your name being yelled in the next moment and felt a hot gush inside of yourself with Rick coating your walls with his come. He might have said that what the two of you had just done had only been for him, but he stayed inside of you - knowing you loved the intimacy - for as long as he could muster until he softened and slipped out.

“Mhm… That was lovely,” you murmured when he rolled off of you. He chuckled in response, reaching for the box of tissues that was strategically placed on his night stand and handed a bunch of them to you.

You turned onto your back and wiped yourself down as well as you could before getting out of bed to clean yourself in the bathroom. You spotted the torn fabric on the floor, deciding to get rid of it tomorrow.

When you finally crawled into bed again, Rick was already under the covers and on his side. He was waiting for you, and much to his delight, you scooted as close to him as possible.

He kissed you on the lips, “Merry Christmas.”

“Wait…” Your face turned smug, “What did you just say?”

“You h-e-eard me, and I am not repeating it.”

“You do know that you’ll never hear the end of it, right?” You felt giddy, pulling the covers over yourself as well.

“Goodnight,” he grumbled.

“Don’t you mean Christmas-night?” You teased.

Rick sighed.

[elderkale]

chapter four

tell me we’ll never get used to it - chapter four

Sometimes, when it got to be too much—when she felt like the walls were closing in on her, when she couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of the blood in her ears, when she couldn’t close her eyes without seeing blood and broken bodies and her—she would run.

Not anywhere in particular. Just run.

It was freeing in a way that little else was; to let go, and let her legs take her where they pleased, for her panting for air to drown out the voices in her head and the burning in her muscles wash away the tingling at the tips of her fingers. To just go, and let the world be someone else’s problem for once. At the very least, it let her move, and that was better than nothing.

Running, running, running. Always running. She never seemed to get any further, though.

Sometimes, she felt like she could keep running forever, until the stars imploded and the sun gave out, and the only limit was how far the universe could stretch. Other times, it was like she was being driven up a treadmill on her last legs, and the only thing keeping her up were adrenaline and what passed for will and whatever thing was chasing her.

Today, it was the latter.

She collapsed to her knees with a gasp, lungs rattling as she dragged in breath after breath. Her hands shook as she ran them through her hair, and she realized they were covered in scratches. Her face, too, probably.

She fell on her face and rolled over, throwing her arms out beside her. Her skin would be splotched with dirt, she knew, and her clothes, too, but she just couldn’t bring herself to care.

Besides, dirt was good. Told you things. Hid stuff. Crunchy.

She closed her eyes, letting her breaths even out and her chest stop heaving. Content, for the moment. It would be over soon, she knew, and she would have to stand up and trudge back to her flat and the rest of the world, but, for now, that was what she was. Content.

She let her mind drift as she played with the earth beneath her fingers, sifting through the pebbles and the loose soil. She could hear the branches overhead rustling in the breeze and the air was bitter with the sharp scent of pine. Elsewhere in the woods, an owl hooted, and the bushes nearby rustled.

Something dropped onto her forehead, sticky and warm. She twitched, wrinkling her nose as she rubbed it off. Water? But it hadn’t been raining—

Oh.

She stared at the streaks of red smudged across the back of her hand. Another drop fell onto her wrist, and she watched as it slowly rolled down her arm, staining the hem of her sleeve.

She looked up. There was a man in the trees—or something that had once been a man, at least. She wasn’t foolish enough to believe that that’s what it was, anymore.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.

“Hi,” she said before it had even finished ringing. “There’s a body.”

*

No ID. Of course there wasn’t any ID.

Or clothes, for that matter. Theta made a note to check Missing Persons. She could only hope Mr. Doe wasn’t a recluse.

Or maybe he was. There’s appeal in that, isn’t there? Easy. Is easy what you want?

Nah. Easy doesn’t cost anything. No one goes to this much trouble for nobody.

So. Who are you, Odysseus?

There was a loud clattering noise, not unlike a box of tin cans being hurled out a window, and a screech of metal on metal that set Theta’s teeth on edge. Martha stood to the side, directing a group of SOCO who stood around a tree, steadying a ladder.

She knocked on his door, and it creaked open.

Branches, huh? Would’ve thought you’d go for thistles. Or is that the point?

Bet he was loud, wasn’t he? Rude? Bit of a dick? Or maybe he wasn’t. After all, you’re not normal, are you? You know it. He knows it. Knew it, at least. Somehow. Some way.

Pity. A mockery of kindness. That’s a theme, is it? Mockery, I mean.

But not quite?

“That’d be difficult, wouldn’t it?” asked Jack. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and his greatcoat buttoned all the way up to his neck. “The sticks, I mean.”

Theta huffed, breath misting in front of her. “I’d say so, yeah.” She licked her lips, chapped by the chill night wind. Her tongue brushed a scratch to the corner of her mouth.

Big lengths to go to. You don’t strike me as an overachiever.

“He’d have needed tools, then. Supplies. Pretty big ladder, too.”

“Mhm.”

What are you trying to prove?

“What do you think?”

“Big ladder,” she repeated. “Yep. Imagine carrying that through the woods.”

“Killer backache,” Jack agreed. Theta glared at him, and he put his hands up. “Okay, okay. But I meant about the body.”

Theta rubbed her wrist, absent-mindedly tracing the path his blood had made. “Fresh,” she said. “Fresh enough, at least. The blood wasn’t even congealed I found it—” she paused for a second. Jack raised an eyebrow, and she continued. “There’s no way he’d have been able to position him like that after rigor mortis.” Theta glanced at the removal team. Two officers held onto the bottom of a ladder, and another was making their way carefully up it. The rest stood in a small circle around them, watching. Absurdly, it reminded Theta of show-and-tell, or maybe the world’s weirdest fairy circle. Maybe. Did people stand in fairy circles? Probably not. “Two hours at the most, I’d say. Maybe more?” She shrugged. “I’m not forensics. Ask Martha.”

He gave her a look. “He worked fast,” he concluded. “Planned.”

Theta shrugged. “Or he knew how to relax the muscles. Or he kept him warm. Or maybe he positioned him while he was alive, or killed him here.”

Jack groaned, dragging his hand down his face. “So, basically,” he said into his palm, “what you’re saying is we’re looking for a either really pissed-off masseuse or an art major with serious anger issues.”

“If you like.”

Jack dragged his fingers through his hair. He looked tired, more tired than usual. But it was—Theta checked her watch—two a.m., so she supposed that was fair. Behind him, SOCO-with-short-arms hopped up and down, holding a saw by the tip of the blade up to SOCO-on-the-ladder. They looked to be struggling.

Jack sighed. “Body,” he repeated. “Arms out, legs together, stabbed through with sticks. . . remind you of anything?”

“No.”

“No, it doesn’t?”

“No, he’s not a martyr, Jack,” said Theta. “He didn’t die for our sins, either.”

What are you to me, a god without a voice?

“You’re sure?” He glanced over his shoulder skeptically. SOCO-on-the-ladder had finally gotten their hands on the handle, and was sawing at the branch the body had been stuck on. The rough, grating noise made the hair on the back of Theta’s neck stand up, and she dragged her palm roughly across the inside of her pocket.

“Yep.” She nodded.

Jack tugged on his ear and cast a weary glance around the scene. With a final creak and splintering crack, the branch was severed. SOCO-on-the-ground began shouting, and SOCO-with-short-arms and SOCO-with-the-lopsided-mask dragged a tarp to lay beneath the tree. SOCO-on-the-ladder yelled something, and threw the saw to the ground. “Okay,” he said. “Okay.”

“What?”

Jack ground the tip of his cane against the dirt. “It’s late,” he said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She stared up at him. “That’s it?”

“Yeah. Go home.” He gave her a quizzical look. “What, what’s the problem?”

“Nothing. Just—” Two SOCOs walked by, pushing a stretcher, Johnny covered awkwardly with a cloth that didn’t quite do the job. The wheels rattled against the forest floor and there was a flurry of squawks as what birds hadn’t been scared off by the earlier commotion took flight. “I mean, first on scene, right? You don’t want to ask me anything?”

“You’ve already told me everything,” said Jack, brow furrowed. His expression cleared as it dawned on him. “Wait, are you asking me to interrogate you?”

“What? No.” She jammed her other hand into her pocket. “Just—”

“I mean,” a lecherous grin spread across his face and he wiggled his brows, “not that I wouldn’t mind—”

She smacked his arm and the leer vanished, replaced by a pained wince. “Stop it.”

He rubbed his arm, grimacing. “You’ve found bodies before,” he said. He frowned. “You okay?”

“Hm.” She rolled her heel against the ground, flattening the earth beneath it. “Yep.” She moved her foot, and the dirt sprung back like a sponge. “Yup,” she said. “Gonna head home now.” She turned and marched away, back the way she came. Branches were hanging limply where she’d broken them, leaves scattered over the ground and bushes drooping sadly where she’d burst through. She winced. There was a reason she always found another way back.

“You need a ride?” Jack called after her, but she was already gone.

*

“Another body.”

“Another body.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Is that a follow-up, or unrelated?”

“Everything’s related.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Guess so.” She shrugged. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

Theta peeled her hands away from her face and craned her neck to peer at him. He looked back, annoyance evident even upside-down. “Do you actually care?”

“Would you answer the question if I said yes?”

“Don’t need to. Already have.” She swung her legs over the back of the couch and sat up straight in one swift, fluid motion. “Why were you there last week?” she asked, blinking away the dark spots. “At the library?”

“Do you think it’s the same person?” he asked. “The copycat?”

She narrowed her eyes. “It fits,” she said. “Whoever killed these people was careful. Too careful. The Master’s never been this cautious, ‘cause he knows he doesn’t have to be. Desperate, too,” she added. “Younger, I’d say, smart enough, thinks he’s smarter than he is. Trying to make himself more important. Miming manipulation. Why were you there?”

“I told you.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Did you ask Jack?”

“Not that,” she said. “I know how you got there. Why, though?”

He tapped out a beat on his armrest and, right as Theta was sure he was going to change the subject, said, “Because I wanted to.”

“Why?” she pressed.

He shrugged. “Call if a whim. An impulse. I was curious.”

“What, about a dead body?”

“Weren’t you?”

“Sure,” she said. “But it’s my job. It’s not yours.”

“Not exactly a crime, is it?”

“What?”

“Death,” he said. “Being curious about it, that is. Causing it. . .” He twisted his face thoughtfully. “Not so much.”

“You know, most people would be less calm around a body,” said Theta, hooking a foot over her leg. “Especially one that looked like that.”

“You weren’t,” he said.

Her nails skated up her shin, catching on her trousers. “Can I ask you something?”

“Can I stop you?”

“That night,” she said. “Well, day. Week? Not sure, sort of lost track of time.” She shook her head. “What did you do?”

“When?”

She clenched her fist, fabric bunching in her hand. “I think you know.”

The corner of his lips twitched minutely. “And I think you know.”

“Right, wrong question.” She dug her nails into the bundle of cloth until they throbbed. “Why?”

He clicked his pen. “What’s death?”

“Nope.” She shook her head. “No. Not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He spread his hands innocently. “It’s just a question, Theta.”

“Answer mine first.”

He pursed his lips and dropped his hands. She held his gaze unwaveringly. He exhaled hard, nostrils flaring. “Because I wanted to,” he said stiffly.

“Why?”

He dragged his teeth over his tongue. “Try explaining an urge to a three-year old.” He shrugged. “Because I could. Because—” He shrugged again. “Don’t know. I’m the one asking the questions here.”

Theta dragged a breath in through her teeth and sagged back against the couch. “Jack,” she said slowly, “says death’s like a bramble. It clings to you, and holds, and leaves traces no matter what you do.” Or something along those lines. He’d been on his fourth beer, and slurring more than a few words.

“I know what he thinks,” said Koschei.

She cocked an eyebrow. “It’s all metaphors, right?” she said. “Can’t exactly get the answer wrong.”

“What’s your metaphor?”

She ground the point of her tooth against her tongue. Metaphors. Easy enough, right?

“It’s like a drug,” she finally said. “It lingers.”

“Do you think?”

She wet her lips. “It’s there,” she said. “Somewhere in the backdrop. In your memories, in you. It’s not something you can just wave your hand and get rid of. It’s. . .” She tapped her finger against her thigh. “Background noise. Something. You never stop chasing the high.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sort of?”

“Sort of?”

“Sort of. Is.”

“Background noise,” he repeated.

“What about you?” she asked.

“What do I think?” She nodded. He shrugged. “Could be any of those. Means different things to different people, right?” He titled his head by a fraction. “Everyone sees something else.”

Theta plucked at her sleeve. “I did miss you,” she said.

“You could have bothered to show it.”

When she left, she definitely did not slam the door shut behind her.

*

He remembered Theta, in the way a dried-out riverbed remembers the water, or a house remembers a master long since passed, or the Earth remembers space. Gone and far away, but always there, hovering over his shoulder.

He remembered towering stone walls, and empty classrooms, and fields and forests that stretched for what felt like miles. He remembered tires crunching down a gravel road, and chasing dandelion tufts under grey skies and even greyer clouds.

He remembered rocks scraping against his cheek, and the tang of iron, and watching as the river carried a pale, slip of a form downstream.

He remembered blood beneath her nails and holding her hand under a sky full of stars.

Manipulation. She would know.

It’s like a drug. It lingers.

God. Talk about ego.

[sdpafanblogofsupremefunk]

Season 1, Episode 1: A Different Place

Where better to begin talking about a show than the beginning? Like most shows, Sítio do Picapau Amarelo has a pilot episode.

...Okay, in this case, “pilot episode” is just a fancy way of saying “first episode”. Much like Rick & Morty and DT17, SDPA doesn’t really have a pilot episode that isn’t just the first episode (unless you count Doc and Mharti as R&M’s pilot, which I’d rather not), so to begin the series, we kinda have to jump right into the mess of things.

It’s like A Quiet Place, but not stupid.

As the episode begins, we are introduced to a two men on a horse-drawn cart. The man in the red box is a book salesman who’s a little down on his luck in terms of profits.

A little.

This guy isn’t really given a name, and I don’t want to call him “The Salesman” the whole time because that’s stupid. So I’m going to give him a name. Mr. Simmons will do nicely.

Anyways, Mr. Simmons falls out of the cart when it hits a patch in the road, and when he picks himself up, he sees a quaint little house on a farm, with an old woman knitting on the porch.

Here, we are introduced to the first of our main cast, Dona Benta, a kind elderly lady who owns this little patch of heaven known as the Yellow Woodpecker Farm. Yeah, didn’t take us long to get there, huh?

So Mr. Simmons sees this old woman in the middle of (what he believes to be) nowhere, and decides it’s the perfect opportunity to make a quick buck believing that:

Which, I dunno, man, she seems pretty comfortable just sitting in her rocking chair, knitting. Like, even as an outsider who doesn’t know a lick of what goes on in this farm, I’d say she’s content as she is, but anything to make some cold hard cash, I guess.

Also, I would not ever call this place a desert, even for the sake of exaggeration. There’s grass everywhere, bushes, trees, flowers, the works. If this where anything like a desert, I do not think this woman would be here, to put it simply. But, I digress. And I hydraulic press, but we won’t be seeing that.

So, Mrs. Benta goes inside to call for the kids, and here we meet 3 of our other actors:

Here, we see Pedrinho (or Little Pete, the boy in the blue overalls) and Narizinho (or Lúcia “Little Nose”, the girl in the red dress), cousins and Mrs. Benta’s grandchildren. They’re playing tag, I think, but they’re stopped in their tracks with their Grandma in the way, and-

Hang on, I feel like we’re forgetting something.

Oh, right. I almost forgot Emilia. She’s basically the reason I watch this show, no biggie.

Anyway, she’s in a race with the kids, when they’re blocked by Grandma. Emilia makes the smart move and cuts right under Mrs. Benta. It looks like this:

Another reason I like this show so much, it’s rife with smears, which I feel like any good cartoon should have. Like here, where Emilia friggin’ nyooms right under Mrs. Benta like a comet.

Emilia reaches the finish line at the bookshelf, where we see the Viscount of Sabugosa, a puppet made out of an ear of corn who’s very smart and polite. (His name is a pun, “sabugo” means corncob in Portuguese, and it’s a parody of the Count of Sabugosa, of which there were 9, the first being Vasco Fernandes César de Meneses in 1729- but everybody calls him Viscount and so will I because blah)

In this show, the Viscount is the actual size of an ear of corn, which makes sense, he is, after all, a puppet made out of one. I think it’s really funny that the cartoon is slightly more realistic than the live-action show it’s based on in this regard, because in the 2001 series, for whatever reason, the Viscount towers over everyone:

And he has a sick mustache.

Like, I don’t get it, out of all the characters, you made the guy made out of corn the tallest one in the cast? I get that the technology to make him actually small probably wasn’t all there yet, Grandpa in My Pocket was still 8 years off, but you really couldn’t find a guy that wasn’t the same height as Shaq?

Yeesh, only 2 minutes in and I’m getting sidetracked this often. Well, I guess it’s better than having nothing to talk about.

Anyway, Emilia wins the race, but the other two kids run into her, smooshing her against the bookshelf-

-and pwning her so hard she briefly grows fingers on her hand (and turning it into a left hand apparently, because the thumb is on the wrong side)

Mrs. Benta explains that Emilia and the other mystical beings must hide from the impending salesman.

Oh brother, I was wondering when we’d get to this guy. This is Marquis of Rabicó (Portuguese for Short-tail). Literally the first thing you read about him on the show’s Wikipedia is that he’s fat (which you think would be a given cuz he’s a pig), and his part of the Characters section isn’t much better, stating that he’s a “gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig” and most of his episodes involve him getting himself and/or others into trouble by being a gluttonous, selfish, cowardly and lazy pig. He’s only ever onscreen to cause problems, either directly or by proxy. If I were to sum him up in one meme, it would be this:

Now, I don’t hate Rabicó, I’m actually quite indifferent towards him, but he does bring down a lot of the episodes that he’s a major part of. Thankfully, there aren’t too many episodes featuring him in the first 2 seasons, but from what I hear, Season 3 goes ham with that shit (pun intended) and it brings down the quality of the season as a whole, so it’s a good thing that’s as far off from now as it is. I want to enjoy the lack-of-pig while it lasts.

But hey, at least he doesn’t look like this:

Don’t do drugs, kids.

Rant over, Mrs. Benta explains that she wants things to look normal because the Yellow Woodpecker Farm is a very peculiar place, where all kinds of weird and wacky stuff goes on, and if word gets out about it, the place will be filled with tourists wanting to get a peek of the action.

Something that Mrs. Benta probably didn’t consider is that there’s a bigger threat to being exposed than just filthy tourism. That’s right, I’m talking about the GOVERNMENT.

I mean, think about it. How many movies have you seen where the government tries to hunt down an unnatural being? E.T., the Sonic Movie, a third one I can’t think of right now, etc. (Lilo & Stitch does not count) Now, I can’t speak for Brazil’s government compared to the U.S., but I know there’s gotta be a division dedicated to dealing with unnatural things that would no doubt arrest Emilia, Rabicó, Viscount, etc. and run experiments on them. Then again, maybe this cartoon takes place in a world where the government doesn’t even exist. I mean, we never really see any urban settings in the show (aside from a brief mention of “the city” in the finale), so for all I know, the world of Sítio do Picapau Amarelo is run by Vermin Supreme.

Real talk, you should all be ashamed of yourselves for not voting for this guy back in 2016.

Initially, Emilia won’t go into her box, but then she gives in and is dragged there by Aunt Nastácia, the housemaid of the farm with a knack for making dolls (so she’s essentially Emilia’s mom). She doesn’t really do much in this episode, but the Fat Bastard does even less, and I still mentioned him.

So Mrs. Benta lets Mr. Simmons into the house and he does this whole spiel about how great the books are, how they can take you to worlds you never imagined, fantasy and action, yadda yadda.

Meanwhile, the kids are off to the side and they’re all like “Well, we met the actual Hercules, get on our level scrub”. And of course, Emilia is watching with them, instead of in her box.

As Simmons keeps on rambling, Emilia is being a little peeping tom, not realizing that one turned head could lead to her being dissected like a high school frog.

Apparently, Emilia thinks she’s a regular Bart Simpson, with shit like spitballs and pulling out the man’s leg hairs. She’s really pushing her luck here, and for little reason. Sure, Simmons called the place boring, but that’s how it’s supposed to be to him.

Of course, Pedrinho and Narizinho are nice enough kids that they bail her out on this one and pretend it was them.

And before Simmons can ask what the hell is going on, Mrs. Benta gives him the money for the books and sends him out the door. And once he’s out...

I’ll give you a hint: it rhymes with go.

Of course, they’re not out of the woods yet, cuz Simmons is getting a little suspicious.

Busted. The truth is revealed, all laid out for Simmons to see. A talking rag-doll? Inconceivable! And yet, there it is.

Come on, Viscount. I would expect you of all people to uphold what Mrs. Benta said and stay hidden. You’re smart enough, you should already know what’s at stake, or at least that something is at stake. I mean, I understand that the cat is already out of the bag, but you’re not helping.

Also, you’re thumb is clipping into your bowtie, you should get that checked out.

Rabicó, I hope you get turned into salami. Not out of spite or anything, but just because I like salami.

Naturally, Simmons believes he’s struck gold and found the ultimate tourist trap. But when Emilia points out that if he tells anyone, he’ll sound like a crazy person-

-he straight up Villager Neutral B’s her,

hails a horse, and books it.

Wow, Viscount. Dick move mangling Mrs. Benta’s glasses like that. And all for an impromptu magnifying glass, which is pointless-

-because we can see the horse tracks perfectly fine without them.

(The Viscount isn’t this much of a jerk in the rest of the series, I swear.)

So, the gang follow the tracks until there are no more, which leads them to a corn store.

Wait, a... corn store? As in, a store that mainly, if not exclusively, sells maize and maize accessories? Compared to vegetables in general, that’s quite a niche market, I can’t possibly imagine finding a success in building an entire business around one type of vegetable. Corn is simply not as versatile as something like chocolate or cheese.

Oh no, wait, it’s just a bar. I guess this cartoon takes place in the middle of Prohibition 2: Return of Jafar, and the whole “corn store” thing is just a set up for a speakeasy. (I mean, you could also argue that it’s a diner, but I’mma go with bar because it’s funnier.)

And I’m guessing Simmons expects the place to put all of the meals on his tab, considering he’s going to get the money later with all the tourism. But then, why doesn’t he just pay with the money he got from selling Mrs. Benta those books? So he pulls Emilia out of his bag to show everyone that he has a talking doll and...

Hm. Probably should have put some air holes in that bag.

Anyway, the gang comes in, and Mrs. Benta asks for the doll back, with Narizinho hamming up her Oscar-worthy performance:

So everybody’s giving Mr. Simmons a mean glare:

Including this gentleman who looks like someone just insulted his favorite MHA character (it’s probably Tsuyu):

So Mr. Simmons desperately tries to convince everyone that the doll indeed does talk, and that she comes from a wacky place, but Aunt Nastácia intervenes and says that it’s just a normal doll.

She just straight up roasts Emilia, who (big surprise) does not take it very well. To the point that she is very visibly angry, which you think the barflies would notice.

I mean, look at that and tell me that you wouldn’t notice anything weird.

But anyways, they get the doll back and we get this cute group hug.

D’awww.

So they leave with Emilia-

as Mr. Simmons is beaten to death offscreen for stealing from a little girl.

As the gang walks home, Viscount bends Ms. Benta’s glasses back to normal. Took you long enough, ya jerk.

Not even close, my dear. This is only the beginning.

Well, that was a very good first episode. It introduces the world and many of the main characters very well. And while there were a few issues I had with it, they’re really just nitpicks that don’t detract from the episode as a whole. Overall, a good effort, 8/10.

So, yeah, that’s the first episode down. Join me next time when we watch episode 2, and meet a very vile villain.

Very vile indeed.

[mintytrifecta]

I’d Spend Them With You

Also on A03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22454086 Garfield has been around for a long time. He knows this, and he’s getting pretty tired of it. No matter how much he tries to have any semblance of a normal life cycle, it always comes back and bites him in the tail.

So now here he stands, inside of an old abandoned theatre filled to the brim with thousands of cats, debating on whether they, as cats should question Primal Self on why they have nine lives.

“I’m sorry Finn I just don’t see the point in this. Seems more trouble than it’s worth.’’

“The humans are people of knowledge just like us, they research and explore their universe and their lives I don’t see why we can’t do the same!” Finnigan McEily, lived eight lives, on his ninth. Spanning seven centuries, approximately 14 years old. He’s the head councilman in the Muncie region, followed by Garfield himself being the second. Of course, what Finn doesn’t know is that Garfield can take away his authority at any moment.

Not that he wants to do it anyway, too much work and stress, he’d much rather not do all of that thank you very much.

“Yeah well what will we do with that knowledge once we get it? We’ve lived near humans since before time was counted we know they like to stick their noses where they don’t belong, I’d rather not follow in their footsteps.”

“Great Bastet, how much more in denial can you get-”

“Finn I was there to see the worst of what humanity can offer. I’ve been on the receiving end of human curiosity and let me tell you it is not fun. We have no idea how to explore our lives, much less understand why we are the way we are. There really is no point in doing this.”

In another life, he might have said differently. He might have agreed and said they could benefit from this. But unfortunately, he’s lived too many and is quite certain this will only end in disaster.

“We are ancient and loved. We have seen civilisations rise and fall and we’re able to tell the tale. Yet the only thing we haven’t figured out is how. I, for one, think this could be beneficial to us as a society and a species.” That was Amelia Sternman, third head of the council. Lived eight lives, spanning five centuries, ten years old. She’s joyful, ignorant, poetic and wide-eyed and Garfield would love to do nothing more than to claw her tail into a clean shave. Damn maine coons…

If Garfield was in another life, in the garden, he probably would have been her best friend. Jovial, forever young, stupid, they could’ve been mistaken for siblings from different litters. Sure she can use big words but they ain’t making her any smarter. She has no idea what this means.

Garfield recalls a time where he would have jumped on this idea right away. He fed on knowledge in that life. He had to, he was a detective, after all.

Samuel Elias Spayed. Lived in the 1920s, just your run of the mill hard boiled detective doing his job. Died in a shootout with a gang in 1931. Overly curious, stuck his nose where it didn't belong and it ended up working out great for him.

But, he’s getting ahead of himself.

“Why can’t we just keep doing what we’ve always done and go on with our lives. Accept that yeah, this is a thing that just happens and be done with it? Man, how long is this meeting I want to go home already.”

He heard a wallop in the audience, agreeing with him. Good, he’s not the only one bored out of his mind.

Finn sighs and strikes down on the stage floor with his paw three times “Alright fine, meeting adjourned for this week, but we will keep discussing this matter next time. You’re free to go.”

Garfield jumps off the old rusted podium onto uncomfortable old wood,the stage creaks and groans with every step his fellow pets make.

As Garfield steps out of the Bijou he thinks of how impressive it used to be. Standing proud and intimidating, it's lights aglow. Try hard enough and he can still hear the music playing from the pit. Strain his eyes enough and he swears he can see the actors performing their final number.

A piece of this land, always here to be remembered, yet never to be fixed.

He always felt a sense of connection to the building. Who knows, maybe in a previous life he was a pet to one of the cast members.

Not every life gets remembered, not every person gets photographed. Hell, he can't even remember what he ate for breakfast that day.

Maybe it was the sense of community that always drew him back there, he thinks. Letting his feet take him wherever they please. Garfield always feels better with other people around, as much as he tries to deny it.

After living for so long loneliness creeps up on you and crushes you inside out. Being with someone gave him a distraction. A thought that maybe… he didn't have to go through it alone.

He remembers the watercolour streaks of stars in his first life. Ancient and hard times, yes. But beautiful nonetheless. The world was new and naive. The older he got, the more stars went out. Now they’re practically all gone.

So was he. Crushed to death with a tree. His teeth crushed and mouth left bleeding. It wasn't too bad a death, he didn't have to suffer for long.

He thinks of Finn handling things in today's meeting. The felines asked for a day's meeting just between themselves. Finn trying to handle everyone talking at once doing his best to stay on track. Garfield wanted to laugh at how apparent it was that Finn wanted to scream. The dogs eavesdropping didn’t make it any better.

While there has been evidence that dogs traverse lives, they didn't want to test the theory and the dogs never said anything. It's a win win in Garfield's book. They don't touch their business and they won't touch his.

Walking along the road, he hears music coming from the park across the street. There was a performance by a touring folk band, Garfield is sure he can see Jon and Liz in the audience. After enough tries Jon’s given up on dating her and they opted to stay close friends.

Romance… what an odd thing, Garfield thinks. Everyone strives for a deeper emotional connection yet Garfield can’t remember any life he’s been in where he looked for a partner except his current one.

Connection was never his forte, often times he found himself opting out of meaningful conversations and friendships when they got too personal. He doesn’t know why he’s doing it, but he dies inside every time he does.

Baast’s Honor, how he wishes he could talk to someone. But no. he can’t be vulnerable. His previous lives showed enough of that. Vulnerability led to loneliness, loneliness lead to abandonment and a much faster death.

Stuck in an uncomfortable liminality between intimacy and isolation, Garfield found himself in a numb state. Constantly grumpy and always eating to distract himself, he’s sure whatever deity out there responsible for cats is rolling in their grave in disgust and horror.

The band is stopping for a piano solo, Debussy. Arabesque number 1. The corners of his mouth twitch upwards. He remembers Sarah playing this song…

His favorite life. After his untimely death occurring to an accident on set in a previous life, this one was a great change of pace. No worries, just peaceful times living with Sarah. He was almost her second piano teacher. Lucky one of his previous lives was that of a court musician's pet. Lived in her home from when she was a child and lived to see her child.

He continues walking and thinks of his home. His first home in this life. A beat up old Italian restaurant in a beat up old part of the city. Forgotten by humans, adored by cats. His whole family lives there.

Almost.

His dad doesn't. He left before Garfield was even born. Not that it bothers him any, he's got Jon and that's good enough for him. Garfield hisses softly to himself.

He remembers eating lasagne for the first time. It was his first ever meal, eaten five minutes or so after he was born. His mother laughed at his already large appetite.

Unfortunately a few minutes later he was taken away by the owner, thrown into a cage with other whining and screaming animals. The cage taken into a shelter and Garfield placed inside another cage. Begging and pleading to be taken by a human. Garfield cowered in the corner, confused and frightened. Some of the older folks tried to explain the situation to him, but all he cared about in that moment was being back with his mom.

A few days later, a brunette entered the shelter and Garfield caught his eye.

It took him a while to warm up to Jon. He knew humans weren't harmful to him, especially not one like Jon but he couldn't help but not be nervous. His previous life left a bitter aftertaste of humans…

Garfield feels a shiver go down his spine. He hated thinking about it. Being a lab experiment was one thing, almost being killed in the jungle after turning into a dog was another. Both sucked.

It felt wrong to be a different creature. Everything that he knew from his previous lives suddenly meant nothing. This was new, uncomfortable ground that he wasn't ready to explore. Garfield cringed inwardly.

He feels terrible saying that. He used to love exploring. It was his whole purpose in multiple lives. As a pirate, a space thief, cowboy, hell one of his jobs was literally exo-planetary explorer! Of course, both instances in space led to him gaining an extra set of lives for some goddamn reason.

He doesn't know whether to be thankful for it or despise it.

His feet come to a stop. The smell of old wood and abandoned concrete hits his nose with familiar pleasure. His family's home.

His home.

He runs to the back and squeezes through a hole in the wall. He knows why his instincts brought him here, speeding to the kitchen, he finds his clowder.

Ranging from his half brother Raoul, to his aunt Rockelvia. They run up and greet him with excitement.

"Look at that, ol' tiger's back." Uncle Morty exclaims, wrapping his tail around Garfield’s back paw and headbutts him.

"Took you awhile to come visit us. What you getting tired of your family?" Aunt Em scolds him from the top of a cabinet. Her tail swishing back and forth in a lazy welcoming matter.

Garfield chuckles. "Quite the contrary. You know I'd visit more if it were allowed by the Council. Unfortunately they don't take too well to anyone born outside a vet, shop or a human's home."

He hears great grandfather Oslo scoff. "Darn pets. They're the ones who kicked us out, you know."

Garfield rolls his eyes and replies, "Yeah I know you only whine about it every time I come over. But that's not why I'm here, do you know where mom is?"

"Check the dining room, she likes to sleep near the tables."

Garfield nods and makes his way towards his mom. After Luigi's Palace closed down she along with the rest of the family were considered strays and forced to leave the community.

"Mom? You here?"

"Table six, sweetie."

With a smile (and a few falls) Garfield makes his way to the top of the booth. He runs to his mom and headbutts her playfully, saying hello.

"Why, it's good to see you too, Garfield. What's the reason for your sudden visit?" She speaks softly.

Garfield sits down next to her and begins to explain,

"The council wants to initiate conversation with Primal Self. Not only that but to experiment on it and find out why it happens. I don't know about you but the idea of doing it sounds ridiculous and unnecessary." He says with a pout.

Sonja looks at her son with a curious gaze before replying.

"Well, my mother told me that the reason it happens is because the animals of the world were jealous of us cats having so many lives so they asked their ancients to curse all cats to come with a trial. This trial shall be held on each fifth life and determine whether a cat deserved its other lives in peace, or if they had to work for it. The ancient spirit of cats listened to their pleas and in sympathy, obliged. Following every cat on their fifth life and bringing out their ancient instincts."

Garfield stared at her in confusion, he was around before time was even thought of. Surely he'd remember something this important.

"But that's just an old queen's tale. Nobody knows for sure. I can't offer you much help with this, but I can support you in your council. Even from afar."

Garfield smiles and cuddles with her for what seemed like a lifetime before getting up, proclaiming he needs to return home.

As the moon shone on him walking down the street, he thinks of how wonderful this world is; despite its messes. He knows it is.

After all, he's been around for a long, long time.

[rickssugarplum]

Father’s Day

This is purely a vent fic. This holiday is never fun for me. Anyone who has to deal with father’s day with a sadness in their hearts, I want you to know you are loved. I hope you can make today a good one for yourself. Thank you for reading. ❤

Rick C-137 x Female Reader) SFW, Father’s Day, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. TW: Emotional Abuse, Depression, 4,400+ Words

Father’s Day is hard to deal with every year. Rick is there to help you through it.

Your eyes opened to the brightness the sun provided, peering through your bedroom window. Your ears were serenaded by the morning chirp of the birds in the trees. Taking the time to stretch out your body, you slowly got up out of bed and looked out. The sky crystal blue with flowers of all kinds bloomed and painting the world view with its various colors. Taking a deep breath in and letting it out, you saw that it was a beautiful June day. You looked down at your phone. Every good possible thing about today came to a screeching halt when you looked at the date on your home screen.

Sunday, June 16

Father’s Day

You shuddered as those two words caused everything to collapse and fall on top of you. To some, it was a wonderful day to celebrate the patriarchs who have done so much for their children. For you, however, it was a painful reminder. It reminded you of your past, the childhood you lost, the many tears you have shed, the love you were denied, and the years you will never get back.

You immediately felt an ache in your heart. A feeling you couldn’t tell whether it was from emptiness, or if it was simply broken. You placed a hand on your chest, trying to soothe the pain, but you couldn’t fix the damage that had been done so long ago. Your throat started to become tight, your eyes were welling with tears. Your head was filling itself with painful words and phrases that were spat out by one you had once looked to for love and comfort. Hearing them again in your mind, made your knees buckle, bringing you to your floor. Now on your knees, you began to sob, just like you had many times as a child. You could still hear the angry, scolding voice telling you to grow the fuck up and stop crying. But you never did, you never could. And today, you wondered if you ever will.

Hugging yourself, you let out a wail of anguish, as you were brought back to that painful time, thinking you were unworthy of love. If your own father couldn’t love you, how the hell would anyone else? For years, you held out for hope that he would one day see the affects he had placed upon you. That he would one day come and hug you and tell you he was sorry for all the pain he had put on you, that you didn’t deserve any of it and that you were worthy of love and he would show you how he would be better for you because that’s what you deserved.

But, years went on, and it never happened. One night, it had been made clear, that he would never change and you would never know the love of a father you had sought. When you were old enough, you had left and never went back again...

But it seemed to have never left you. You’d been haunted in seemingly odd ways. At night, you would sometimes wake up screaming as he taunted you in your dreams. Certain songs you couldn’t listen to without taking you back, you made choices to avoid following in his footsteps, and now; the inevitable. Every third Sunday of June, you would always be reminded of what you never had and your reaction was always the same. 

You wanted to be alone, but at the same time you wanted to be wrapped up and given the love you were denied long ago. But you knew that couldn’t happen today. 

Immediately, your mind went to Rick, who knew a little about your history, but enough to know this holiday would be rough on you. However, he’d probably be too busy as he would be celebrated by his family, including his daughter. While yes, Rick wasn’t the best father, part of you somehow envied Beth. Sometimes, you wish your father had left. Looking back, it would have saved you a lot of pain. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with nightmares of his words at night. Silence would’ve been much more peaceful...

       ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

“Happy Father’s Day!” shouted the cheers of Morty and Summer. Jerry smiled from his seat at the dining table as he received hugs from them both. Meanwhile, Beth had been preparing a grand breakfast for both her husband and father of their two children, and she felt incredibly happy that she had her own father to celebrate with this year. She walked into the dining room with eggs, pancakes, and bacon, ready to eat. Going over to Rick, she kissed his cheek.

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad.” she exclaimed. Rick looked at his daughter with pride. “Thank you, sweetie. Man, you did a real great job on breakfast, Beth. C-c-can’t wait to dig in!” he declared with a smile. Beth’s smile went from ear to ear as she walked over to her husband, giving him a quick peck on his lips.

“Happy Father’s Day, Jerry.” She beamed. He smiled back at his wife, grinning wide as he soaked in the feeling of being back in their home. Everything was perfect. Well...almost.

To be blunt, tension was still thick in the air since his return to the house, to the dismay of Rick. Knowing that he had been the reason of the initial break-up a few months earlier. But now, it seemed like Beth was more sure of herself in what she wanted in her marriage and she was no longer afraid of her father leaving. Time will tell if that will last...

For now, Rick had to deal with Jerry back in the picture. Just as long as his buttons weren’t pushed, things would be fairly pleasant. He was stuffing his face with his daughter’s delicious pancakes, his grandkids celebrating a holiday made for greeting card companies to make an extra dime. Rick wasn’t foolish enough to pretend. He knew he was a bad father. Hell, he doesn’t consider himself a good grandfather. But he’d put up with today for their sake, They couldn’t help being so attached to these made up traditions. And plus, who could resist pancakes?

“So, what’s the plan for today, gang?” Jerry asked enthusiastic. Morty and Summer both looked at their Mom with pleasant smiles. Beth spoke up, sharing her kids’ happiness. “Well, since it is Father’s Day, I figured why not let the dads choose what we do!” she chirped.

Jerry spoke up immediately. “Well, I would like to go fishing today with my family today!” 

How simple. Jerry would find joy in going to a river five minutes away and catching some fish. Rick wasn’t keen to fishing, but he had anidea.

“There’s a place on planet Zxonculon where they have really good fish. We could travel there, no equipment required.” He stated flatly.

Beth’s eyes lit up. “Oh that’s great, Dad! We could have a little space trip too!” She exclaimed, so happy. This day was gonna be great.

“NO. I told you, Rick. I don’t want any science involved in our trips!”

Oh boy. 

“Jerry, I can guarantee that it would be much more exciting that catching some unlucky creatures that are swimming in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

The tension added on as Jerry’s brows furrowed and arms. “I am the man of the house and I said it’s out of the question!” he declared.

Rick stood up from his chair, hands flat on the table. “And I heard Beth say, that she wanted the dads to decide. Dads. As in both of us.” he explained, calm but firm.

“Beth, you would agree that science would not be good for this fathers’ day would you?” 

Beth smiled nervously. “Well, I think it would be good if we all enjoyed today, maybe we could meet somewhere in between!” she suggested. Morty and Summer looked on awkwardly, fearing the worst was yet to come.

“How brave of you, Jerry. Couldn’t come up with your own argument, so you try to use my daughter against me.”

“Dad...” 

“..should be lucky she considers herself your daughter...” Jerry muttered.

The sound of silverware clanks on the table. The children’s frowns prominent, while Beth sat, horrified. Everything was falling apart at the seams. Rick glared daggers into the other man’s eyes.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asks, coldly.

The two men looked at each other from across the table, challenging the other.

“C’mon tough guy.” Rick egged on. “We allll know what you wanna say. So just. say it.”

Jerry was not going to be intimidated. “You weren’t there for her as a father. You bitch at me for knocking her up. If I was such a horrible thing that happened to her, maybe you should have been there to stop it, but you weren’t. Were you, Rick?”

“JERRY!” Beth yelled out.

“Dad!” Shouted Summer.

“Aww jeez, Dad...” Morty muttered quietly. He couldn’t argue with him though. He was saying the truth.

Rick said nothing. He didn’t even flinch. Everything Jerry said was true. Sometimes he blamed himself for not being there. He could’ve possibly helped Beth with her self-esteem. But he couldn’t change the past. Not for anyone.

“I never said I was a good father, nor do I try to make myself out to be a good person. I know I’m not a good person. That’s why it was better for me to leave.”

Beth looked on, mouth agape as she listened to her father speak. Rick turned to her.

“Sweetie, can I talk to you alone?” Rick asked. Beth only nodded as she stood up from her chair. Jerry’s fist hit the table hard.

“No, NO! You will talk to me ab-”

“Shut up, Jerry!” Beth glared at her husband, who sunk back into his chair at her fiery gaze. She followed her father into the garage. Rick let out a long sigh.

“Beth, I know- I know this had all been really hard on you. I’m...sorry If what I did, made you feel you weren’t good enough, because you are.”

Beth’s throat tightened as her eyes started to water. She had struggled with the abandonment her whole life. No longer could she hold it in, and the tears started flowing down her face.

“Oh, sweetie...” Rick said as he walked to his daughter, embracing her as she needed. His fingers combed her honey-blonde hair, just trying to calm down his baby girl. He owed it to her.

“I love you, Dad...” she quietly cried out. Rick hushed her, trying to calm her down.

 “I know...I love you too, sweetie..”

They stayed like that for awhile. Beth had wanted everything to be perfect today, but it was just wishful thinking for her...She started to take deep breaths in her father’s arm and started to relax. “I’m sorry, Dad...”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” he stated. “I meant what I said out there.” Beth broke the embrace to look her father in his tired eyes. 

“I thought it was better for me to leave, to save you from anymore hurt I might have caused....” he confessed. Beth still couldn’t understand. “How can you ever think I was better off without you?” she asked, confused.

“Sometimes, it’s better for someone so toxic to be apart. Some people think all parents should be with their kids no matter what, even if they’re pieces of shit. And that can do a LOT more damage than not having that person there. You could be like.....” 

He stopped. 

“Like what?”

Not what. Who. His mind thought of another. Beth couldn’t have possibly known. But he started to realize that today would have been hell for someone else.... Running a hand through his hair, Rick knew he had to do something. He took his portal gun out of his lab coat.

“Don’t wait up for me. Jerry can go on his dumb fishing trip. Let Morty and Summer spend time with their Dad today..”

“Are you leaving?” Beth said, sounding defeated.

“I promise I’ll be back, sweetie. I have to be somewhere quick.” he stated as he shot a portal. He told his daughter he loved her one more time before walking into it. With the portal closed, Beth was left in the garage; alone.

       ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ 

You felt the world was spinning at a rapid speed. On the floor, you had been bawling as thousands of thoughts and memories flowed through your mind. The ache, knowing you were completely alone today, was all the more reason to just lie in your misery. Your heart sped up and it was getting harder to breathe.

Rick had arrived from your living room. Wondering where you were, he didn’t have to long. He heard your wails coming from your room.

“Shit.” Rick muttered to himself. He wasted no time getting up the stairs to reach you. The closer he got, the louder your cries. He opened the door, to see you on the ground in the fetal position, face red and wet with tears. Your mouth was wide open as your voice cracked in agony. You couldn’t hear him come in, with your weak screams, but his presence was known as soon as you felt one of his cold hands touch your shoulder.

“Baby...”

His voice was so soft, you were only used to screaming and scolding ones. His fingers brushed your hair back away from your face. Your eyes stinging, you tried to open them, but tears had still flowed. 

“R-R-R-Ri-ick...”

“Shhhh...It’s okay...Just try to breathe...” he instructed. Your body had been brought into a warm embrace, Rick holding you close to his chest protectively. The overwhelming feelings were all too much. You were suddenly being rocked as a parent would to their newborn baby. As a father would...

Your heart felt heavier at the love you sorely needed...but never got. A father’s love, was one that would forever be foreign to you. All of Rick’s science in the world, could never reverse that. You erupted a muffled scream in his chest, as you pleaded to no one...

“Please....D-don’t le-leave me-e-e” you weakly begged.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re safe with me, okay?” he murmured in your ear.

“I-I-I’m s-s-s-sor-rr-ryyy.....” you croaked out, struggling to breathe in a steady pace.

“W-what are you sorry for?” he said, dumbfounded. There was nothing in his mind that you needed to apologize for. But there were hoards of reasons you thought of. For not being good enough. For not being perfect. For not being smart enough. Like Morty, you struggled with your grades. Your mind flashed back to a screaming man confronting you about not getting the perfect scores on your report card. You had always tried your best. But your best was a pathetic joke. Just like you.

“I-I-I...”

Rick didn’t know what was in your head, but he knew it had to have been hell. He waited for you to catch your breath.

“I-I-I’m a w-waste...” you meekly cried. Two hands grasped your face, making you look into his eyes. “HEY!” He shouted in your face. His furious tone frightened you to your core. You could smell the alcohol on his breath.

You were immediately brought back, where another man looked at you with such anger, drunkenness, and bitterness. He would pierce your little ears with hateful words and demands for respect... 

“NO! Please! I-I-’m sorry! Please.....” you pleaded, sobbing.

Rick eyes softened. He immediately regretted his loss of control as he saw your face contort into sheer panic. Your body was quaking as you begged for mercy. The sounds of your bawling had nearly broken his heart.

“I c-can’t t-t-take anymore...”

All your life, you had only been scolded, screamed, humiliated. You had never been good. You were never daddy’s good girl. Your chances had died before it could even be possible.

“I-I j-just w-w-wanted to be good...”

Rick was completely at a loss for words. But he tried to convey his thoughts through touch. Pulling you close to him again, he resumed to adorn you with soft caresses and placed soft kisses on your head.

“I never m-meant to be bad...I tried to be good...I tried.I tried.I tried...” you repeated.

The silence from Rick was no accident. He realized your demons were much more than he thought. He was no stranger to daddy issues, but bottled up ones, were never good to keep. He let you speak your peace. Whatever you needed to get out, was allowed now.

“But it-it wasn’t enough...I’m not enough...” you wept. 

In Rick’s mind, he wondered how anyone can treat their children so poorly, that they completely collapsed at the mere thought of them. He knew he left some damage in Beth, but he never tried to make her feel worthless or frightened by him. The fact that someone made you feel this way, let alone your own father, made his blood go cold. In the moment, he knew you needed the complete opposite of all you were afraid of, soft tone, kind words, and so much love...

"That is not true. You are not anything that piece of shit made you feel. I don’t give a fuck what he said. He didn’t know how good he had it.”

You listened to him. Here was the smartest man in the universe, a father himself, telling you this.

“I’m so sorry for what he put you through...I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt you...Whatever he told you to make you feel like you deserve this, he was completely wrong.”

Your shining eyes looked into his, wanting to see the words flow from his mouth. To prove you weren’t dreaming.

“I promise you, baby. You didn’t deserve any of it...”  

The way he said it. So sure, so certain. Everything you were told back then, completely disputed by the genius you loved so dearly. 

“I wish I could go back and take it all away from you, but I can’t...” With all his genius, time travel was still very difficult to perfect. You tried to stifle yourself for a moment so you wouldn’t miss a word of what he had to say.

“What I can do now, is show you how much you are loved, because that’s what you deserve.”

Your breathing patterns were starting to improve. Heavy gusts of air hit Rick’s chest, his shirt damp with your tears and snot. In and out, you kept telling yourself. Rick had noticed your efforts.

“Thaaat’s it baby...You’ve got it...” he encouraged you. His hand tenderly stroked your back, trying to soothe you. His gentle praise calmed you just a little more.

“Gooood girl...” he whispered as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“I-I am?” you squeaked out. You couldn’t possibly believe that.

“Yes, you are. You are one of the kindest people I’ve ever known and incredibly brave.”

“But I didn’t face it...I just left....” you muttered.

“And that’s the smartest thing you could do. You had already faced it long enough.” he stated. “I’m no stranger to leaving things behind, b-believe me, but you knew that environment would do you no good if you stayed...” 

You were silent, unsure what to say...

“I’m proud of you, baby...” 

Your wet eyes went wide. Did...you hear that correctly? Rick gently grabbed your face with both hands, making you look up at him. “Look at me, baby...” 

In his eyes, they showed empathy, sincerity and...love. And not in a lustful way, a genuine look of pure, unconditional devotion. 

“I’m proud of you...” he repeated. His thumbs caressed your cheeks, wiping away tears that stained them. He leans to you, foreheads touching. 

“If there’s anything I can do to help or if you even need to talk, you come to me okay? I don’t give a fuck what time it is, what dimension or galaxy I’m in. I will come to you...” he softly declared.

Speechless, you simply nodded your head. You needed one thing right now.

“Please, just hold me..” you tiredly pleaded, falling into him. All you wanted was to feel safe. You felt his arms wrap around your frame.

“Of course, baby...” He resumed rocking you gently, trying to put you at ease. In his lap, you closed your eyes, letting yourself take in the comfort of his embrace. No one could get to you, as long as you were there...

Rick wanted you to feel comfortable, and while you were content, he figured it would be much better if you two were off the floor. “I-I wanna get you comfortable in the bed. Is that alright, babydoll?” he asked softly. You nodded and immediately were lifted up. It only took a few steps for him to gently lay you down on your soft mattress. He immediately joined you and held you close you, peppering your face with soft kisses. You hummed as you nestled in his chest.

For awhile, you both simple lied in silence. Only sounds you heard were breathing and his heartbeat. The only feeling was of his affection. The atmosphere was so serene. You were no longer alone. Rick’s gruff voice broke the silence.

“I-I know I never say this, b-but I think you need to hear it right now...”

You looked up at him, anticipating what it was. He leaned in close to your ear and whispered so delicately. 

“I love you...”

It felt like your breath was taken away. The rainbow had come shining through after the storm. Your dark gray world had been painted with color. The three words you’ve always wanted to hear...

Slowly, he leaned his face closer to you and press his lips to yours. You kissed him back, giving all you had to convey you appreciation. Suddenly, you felt his body roll on top of yours. Rick kept the kiss light and soft. He was attentive and patient, taking his sweet time with you. When you stopped to breathe, his lips gently brushed your cheek.

“I love you, angel...And I want you to see that so maybe...you can learn to love yourself...”

That would sure be a long road. You looked away from him for a moment. You didn’t want to tell him it wasn’t possible. 

“I-I-I know it’s a motherfucker, this pain you’re dealing with...It’s not a-a walk in the park...But you are not a lost cause...You’re a survivor, baby...” 

“Thank you, Rick...I love you, too...” you whispered. The day you always dread now had a silver lining this year. But it wasn’t without concern.

“W-why aren’t you with your daughter...?” you questioned.

Rick sighed. “Jerry was being a fucking idiot as always...I left and wanted to check on you...” 

You were not shocked. Of course. Rick always had trouble getting along with his son-in-law and you didn’t see that changing anytime soon. But it wasn’t about Jerry today...

“Beth needs you...” you simply stated. You felt you had no right taking someone else’s father away from them because of your own issues. Rick didn’t even appear to be conflicted. He was always low-key about his decisions, no matter how many light years away he would go.

“I want to take her to a stress-free planet, to give her the break she deserves. You could come with us. I don’t want you to be alone today...”

What other option did you have? It was that or cry alone in your house the rest of the day. No way would you make Rick stay away from his own daughter today.

“Okay.” you agreed with a shy smile. That plan sounded quite nice. He smiled back at you in relief. Things were appearing to come back together.

“Great.” He shot a portal. Standing up, he reached out his hand. You took it and he helped you up from the bed and into the portal.

       ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇

In the Smith’s kitchen, Beth was sitting at the now empty table, still riddled with dirty dishes from breakfast time. She sighed thinking of all that went wrong earlier. It was so unfair. All she wanted was a nice day with her father on this mundane holiday. Goddamn Jerry couldn’t keep his mouth shut for once. He was now on his coveted fishing trip with Morty and Summer. He got what he wanted, while she was alone without her father and now her children. She felt like the sad little girl all over again. But, she was too used to it to cry about it anymore. She told herself she was no longer afraid. Still, he told her he would come back...

A buzzing sound emitting from the garage made her lift her head up. He came back! Her thoughts immediately turned around. They could still have a great father’s day together. It didn’t matter where or what it was, as long as her father was there, that was all she wanted.

“Hey, sweetie.” He greeted as Beth got up from her chair, embracing him.tightly. He hugged her back, rubbing her back to show his affection.

“Hi, Dad!” She chirped happily. They broke the embrace, and Rick gave a proposition.

“Beth, I wanted to take you on a nice stress-free trip for the day. We’ll go off planet, we can do anything you want there!” he proposed.

She placed her hands together in glee. “Oh that sounds wonderful, Dad!” Her curiosity peaked however when she saw you over her old man’s shoulder. You had been keeping a distance, not wanting to interrupt the moment.

“Oh, hi there!” She sounded surprised, but not unpleasantly so. That had to be a good sign. You simply greeted her back with a tiny voice and a kind smile. “Hi, Beth.”    

“Beth, I wanted to bring her along cause...I just thought it would make her day better too...”

It was a little confusing to her. In her head she wondered why you would spend time with them and not with your own father. She got a good look at you and noticed your kind eyes were red, lashes appearing damp. Then it clicked. She looked at you with the empathy and understanding you were never met with. While she didn’t know the details, she knew what it was like to spend father’s day alone.

She would not let that happen to you if she could help it. And who knows? Maybe, you could become good friends.      

With a smile, Beth agreed. “The more the merrier! I think we all could use a getaway.” 

All three of you wore content faces. This year, you had something to look forward to. And in time, with love and support, your heart could mend....and you could learn to love yourself again. 

❤