#there are no ulterior motives here

[eurodynamic]

NOT THE LOSTWAVE SONG “EVERYONE KNOWS THAT”/“ULTERIOR MOTIVES” BEING FROM AN 80s PORNO LMAOOOO

[unnonexistence]

hermann thoughts: if i discredit newton and his approach enough, the martial won't give him the equipment for his kaiju drift, and i can protect him from himself. if he despises me for it, so be it. there is little i wouldn't sacrifice to see him safe.

newt thoughts: this is a Best Science competition and i have to Win

[kitsumo]

in honor of ekt being found

[royalarchivist]

Tubbo's remixing Skeppy and Puffy's part of Badboyhalo's song, "Muffin" in his current DJ session (with an interesting emphasis on a certain section 🤨)

[palarien]

kabumisu doodles (´▽｀)

[nortedwayfinder]

TRICK OR TREAT!!! :>

Yo!! For you I rolled... Treat!

Happy birthday 🥳

[zeeckz]

[llamagoddessofficial]

@mothiepixie's art has dragged me kicking & screaming back into my Death God Sans obsession

so here's a concept I've been rolling around in my head for an updated scaryboy...

---

He was cloaked, head to toe, in black. Sweeping robes, black as the night, that seemed to draw in any light around them. Though delicate chains of silver decorated his shoulders and waistline, he had nowhere near the degree of finery one would expect from such an ancient and powerful being.

... He looked over his shoulder at your approach. His face was veiled. The veil itself was beautiful, as black as his cloak, the edges embroidered with fine thread that caught the light like stars. No one had ever survived glimpsing beneath that veil. Legends told of curious Gods peering when they should not- being driven mad instantly upon seeing the face of Death.

Immortals simply were not made to comprehend their existence coming to an end.

“... what a pleasant surprise.” He mused. “hello, little goddess.”

“S-Sans.” You couldn’t look at him long. “I-I... want to talk...”

... A sigh escaped him. He turned to you, fully, a great figure of black ash and silence. When he spoke, he sounded... regretful.

“of course you do.”

“I-it’s... it’s my friend. A nymph. She’s...”

He spoke gently. “i know what you're going to ask, so please do not ask me. i don’t want to have to refuse you.”

You didn't know why Sans had a soft spot for you. Other Gods and Goddesses had attempted to befriend him, attempted to gain his favour. They were always rebuffed- sometimes aggressively. You were the only one whose friendliness he ever reciprocated.

“She’s going to die." You almost choked on your words. "There... there must be something you can do, I...”

“i can’t.” His words carried the finality of someone who had been asked this question more times than he could count. “if i make one exception, the world will know. and then i’ll have to make a hundred more.”

The hope was draining from you. This is what you had feared most. “I-I won’t tell anyone. I... Please.”

“there are rules i have never bent.” He said, softly. “i cannot start now.”

...

You looked away. Though you knew you had no right to, considering he was only doing what he'd been made to do, you still felt hurt. “... I suppose you’ve had this conversation many times.”

A pause.

“... yes.”

“After a while it must get amusing.”

The veil shifted, slightly.

“i know you did not mean that.”

... You immediately felt regret biting at the back of your tongue. Of course he wouldn't be amused, what a horrible thing for you to say. He didn't choose this existence- and he certainly didn't choose to have his heart hardened by centuries of desperate people clawing at the bottom of his robes.

“... I’m sorry." You said, small. "I shouldn’t have come.”

...

“wait.”

In an instant, Sans was far closer to you, close enough that you could reach out and trace your hands across his robes. Great black wings, each taller than you, circled you; the veil fluttered for a moment, you thought you saw something glint beneath them that definitely wasn’t the light glancing off the fine silver embroidery. 

“... there is a way.”

You stopped, heart jumping in a mixture of hope, and apprehension at his proximity. His aura was overpowering. “There is?”

“making exceptions for the way my soul turns would not be acceptable." His head tilted. "however... making exceptions for kin...”

You wished you could see his face. Anything to clue you as to you what was going on. “... Kin?”

“your friend would be my kin, if you were my wife.”

... 

Your jumping heart stopped in your chest.

“... Your... wife.”

“it would be in name only. i cannot give you children. and... i would understand if you sought intimacy elsewhere.”

You felt yourself tearing up. You didn’t understand. “But... what’s the point, then? Why would you want me as a wife, if you know I won’t give you affection or children?” 

“do we have a deal?”

...

What other choice did you have? He could probably see it written all over your face.

“close your eyes.” He said, softly.

... You did. 

You heard nothing. But you felt something draw close, you felt that overwhelming aura intensity, a power that drifted across your skin like spiderwebs... it smelled like obsidian, in your mind’s eye it was the deepest shade of midnight. 

A hand on the small of your back. 

“do not open them.” His voice was so near. So near you felt it in your chest and throat.

... So near, that when you heard the sound of thin fabric being lifted, you could almost count the threads.

Breath against your cheeks. Instinctively, your hands came up, catching in his silken robes. Your frozen heart started pounding all over again.

... Pressure, on your lips. Gentle, warm, much warmer than you expected. The barest, softest touch... but it lingered long enough for you to sense that it was the touch of someone who was restraining themselves.

You didn't expect the kiss of Death to feel so loving.

As fast he had come, the warmth retreated from your lips, the hand retreated from your back. His cloak slipped out of your grip.

...

You opened your eyes. Sans was a few feet away from you.

... You didn’t need to be able to see his face to know he was smiling.

[spotaus]

New Age AU (Obtaining Killer)

Hey guys! Through with a bot of stuff for the day and I have a sneaking suspicion that this stress headache will not leave me until I finish some projects for work, so I *may* be m.i.a. for a hot second until they stop.

In the meantime, I want to drop this! (Unedited, unrefined, raw off the slab style)

Andddd @ancha-aus and @papiliovolens ! Hello! (Mutzelputz if u see this, the tags weren't working for some reason, I apologize.)

Hope y'all enjoy!

Ccino had convinced him to leave the castle. After nearly a year had passed since his last true public appearance. Since he'd stolen the apple from his brother. Nine months had passed since he'd sent Dream away. He tried not to think about it.

Nightmare had been finding out a lot about his magic. How it made him jittery, and how he felt like he understood so much more. How it made him deeply paranoid, quick to react.

How it made people listen to him.

He figured it was because he was scary now. The negative magic condensed over every inch of his bone wasn't exactly appealing, and the extra limbs which had sprouted from his spine now acted like his own personal weapons. If someone didn't listen, didn't give him an answer he liked, the limbs moved without him even thinking.

It had taken time to learn to better control them. Even now, they writhed in his wake. His nerves expressed through their lashing and twitching as they hovered just above the ground.

The streets weren't exactly crowded.

Upon word of the King's arrival to this small providence, Nightmare had found that many people fled from his path. His travel party of several soldiers, and himself on horseback. He'd always wanted to ride horses. The traitor twin was someone that every citizen wished to avoid.

Ccino had coaxed him outside with promises of fresh air. Apparently there were promising young members of the city guard that Ccino swore would be wonderful future knights. Young warriors for him to bring up loyally under his name, no fear of betrayal.

It had made sense, at the time, but Nightmare hadn't chosen to recruit any of them.

It wasn't to say he didn't want to. Several of the humans and monsters were very talented, and he did his best to give them praise, but he could tell. None of them wanted to work under him. They didn't like him. Rejection and hatred that had pierced him immediately, he could practically taste it.

Ultimately, they would do better here in their hometown. A place they were passionate about protecting, and with people they cared for. Night would not try to mold promising soldiers into his perfect guard. No matter how smart of an idea it may have been.

And so he'd moved on.

Night had visited several smaller shops, onces which couldn't afford to refuse him, and he bought some fabrics, a trinket, some small thing from each place he stopped by. He payed exactly the price he needed for each thing. He wouldn't bribe his people, either. The best he could do would be to remain neutral.

He did discover, against all odds, that he was enjoying this day out. Ccino was, in fact, usually correct about this sort of thing.

The travel had been enriching. Almost exciting. He'd never gotten out of the castle much at all, this was all new and excitingly mundane.

Good things do not last forever.

It was almost sunset when he noticed it. Torches being set up, a platform prepared. A crowd gathering.

An execution, came the mutter from one of his soldiers. Though he recognized the set-up, Night had never been in attendance to an execution. He was morbidly curious. The crowd held such a contempt. A broiling hunger for blood.

He wished he'd wheeled his horse away when a few people were ushered out of a nearby building.

The prison, maybe?

There weren't many of them. Nightmare dismounted his steed, and much to the dismay of the soldiers at his side, he found himself sinking. Into the growing shadows cast by the dying sun.

He re-emerged beside the stage, where the few people were lined up. Ready for death by hanging.

That trick wasn't one that Nightmare quite understood yet, but he was always drawn to feelings of intense negativity. He knew that, now. Something about these prisoners were bothering him, even at a distance, and he found himself more curious as he stood before them.

His guards, at the back of the crowd, hadn't seemed to figure out where he had gone. He had the time, now, to loom over the small group of prisoners.

The city guards, the trained ones, had likely seen him earlier at their headquarters. They did not speak even a word against him as he stared.

Nightmare stared at these faces.

A dog monster, scrappy and scarred, black fur clashing against a few patches of white. One of her ears was missing.

A pair of humans, both men, one with long, curly red hair and another with short-cropped red hair and the beginnings of a beard. Maybe they were brothers?

A skeleton. His sockets dripped with black magic, and his soul was a piercing crimson, just infront of his chest.

A flame monster, small and stout. Their flames a flickering green and purple. One of their eyes had a patch over it.

Nightmare was not great at determining emotions yet. He was hardly versed in his own feelings, but there had been improvement recently. Understanding new emotions had been coming more naturally to him.

Sometimes it hurt, but he was learning.

Now, past the blossoms of a headache, he felt a bit baffled as he subconsciously picked through the negativity these monsters exuded. Their fear. Their pain. Their loss, and their anger.

Oh.

"Only one of you is guilty."

He'd said it without thinking, practically announcing it with a voice that still felt unnaturally deep. A voice which rattled his ribcage and seemed to force past the barrier of darkness around him.

The group before him seemed startled. Confused.

Well, all but the skeleton, who seemed to only raise his skull slightly. As though just noticing Nightmare was there.

"How could you have possibly been jailed in the first place?" He muttered a bit quieter to himself.

He knew, deep down, that there were many, many rules in place for situations like this. Laws which he could challenge. People he could speak to. He could appoint members of his court to each of these people and try to earn their innocence through the rites of the law.

Then again, he remembered the rage of the crowd. The frustration of the people waiting to see these killings take place.

He didn't know what to do.

Now the prisoners, especially the two humans, were staring at him hopefully. He'd managed to shatter the negativity a bit. He believed them. He knew this was wrong.

"I don't know..."

The mutter came again unprompted.

These people would not have the means to repay him for his help. He couldn't just waive fees, or risk his court turning against him. He couldn't afford enemies being made so close to his inner circle.

He couldn't just leave them, though. Not after he'd seen the injustice of it all.

Stuck in his own thoughts, he was drawn out of it by a snickering laugh.

"Just set them free." A voice followed, "You are our King, aren't you?"

Nightmare then found his eyes drawn to the skeleton.

The others had eased themselves away from him. He stood, now, almost alone. He seemed unbothered by speaking up, his sockets held in an almost lazy posture. Tension going completely un-held.

He grinned up as the King, and seemed to watch contentedly as the thought settled in Nightmare's skull.

He could do that. Simply waive their charges. Pardon them. He could do that, surely. Many royals had done it before him for less certain terms. His mother had plenty of times.

"And you are guilty. You'll still be hanged. You know this, don't you?" Nightmare asked.

That was when the Skeleton's lazy sockets seemed to tighten with a sort of glee. Some hidden joke Nightmare wasn't privy to.

"Hmm." This was a poor choice. This was a bad decision. "Tell me, quickly, how you came to be here. Before I proceed?"

Nightmare didn't know why he was asking. He was... curious. Just like he had always been.

Very few people would ever speak straight to his face. Ccino, that was the only one who'd done it since his change. Since the prophecy. This skeleton had done it. He'd spoken when no one else could muster even a plea.

The silence he seemed to bring to every room. Broken, just briefly.

The skeleton stared at him a moment.

"Name's Killer, your majesty." The tone was mocking. "A while back a buddy of mine got into hot water, and I decided to help them out. Now, plenty of bodies later, I'm the one stuck on death row."

Simple. An admission of guilt.

Nightmare stared at him some more.

Finally, it seemed his frantic guards had noticed him. Found him. They rushed to his side, though not as fast as he would've liked. He could feel the frustration seeping from each armored body around him.

"You don't have an aversion to it," Nightmare voiced, "Killing, I mean."

Killer nodded. Unashamed.

It felt strangely calm, still. Perhaps it was because the crowd was still chattering. They likely hadn't noticed Nightmare at all.

The king turned to the city guard, still stood on the steps. "Free these four people. My judgement decrees them as not-guilty."

And, before any time could pass in the slightest. "Killer, I would like you to accompany me, before you abscond."

He'd noticed it. Killer had undone his cuffs before their conversation. Completely freeing himself from his weak imprisonment.

Killer seemed amused at the concept of sticking around to chat.

"If you would, I would like to recruit your services at my castle. I need a man who is willing to kill. And kill swiftly." Ccino said to establish an image. It was obvious now that his reputation would remain in the gutter, no matter what choices he made. He was not Dream.

Killer's sockets narrowed.

"And what would I get for being your little hunting dog?" Again, it was bold. It was new.

Nightmare was sure his expression hadn't changed since he'd come before the group. That same angry glare that sat permanently along his skull. The magic had an image to project.

His tendrils flicked, slightly.

"Payment, room, Fresh meals, and any other amenities you may like, so long as it does not break our treasury." He replied, "All I ask is that you simply obey me. And Me alone."

Not true. He'd probably ask for him to listen to Ccino as well. Once he knew for certain he'd stay.

Killer seemed to be thinking. He eyed they king, up and down. He looked to each of the guard around the king. The ones who were back in position now, though Nightmare could feel their annoyance. Their confusion.

Then Killer turned.

Then he turned back.

"Mm. Can't be worse than the ol' noose." Killer replied. "Funny way to run a country, my king. Hiring the first murderer you spot?"

Nightmare didn't humor that with a response. He was honestly shocked the skeleton had even agreed.

Though, all of that negativity had been swapped out for a glee. Something deep in Killer had changed during their brief interaction. A hope. Night could barely grasp the edges of its existence with his subconscious. But it was there.

.

He ignored the crowds as they grew confused. He ignored the worry pouring from the criminals as he had them released and informed them of their pardon.

He did not ignore when his guards told someone to keep their distance. He glanced up. Killer was standing beyond the guards, looking bored.

Nightmare, trusting fool he was, didn't even ask a guard to watch him to ensure he stayed put.

"Stand down." He ordered the guard, who begrudgingly allowed the skeleton to smugly slip past.

His tendrils kept the monster at a distance Night preferred all on their own. He seemed to take the hint.

"They're all gonna be dead by morning, you know." Killer voiced easily.

Nightmare turned to him, confused. What did he mean by that? He'd pardoned them?

"Are you deaf? The crowd wanted us dead, especially me." He chuckled, "Leaving them here is definitely going to get them killed. If the crowd doesn't rip them apart the second you leave, then it'll happen at night. There will be no witnesses."

Oh... Night hadn't fathomed that these people could turn on the innocent once declared. It hadn't even crossed his mind. Did they have a home to return to? A family they put at risk?

The noose was a fast death, but being murdered? That would've been so much worse.

He could tell, by the way they evaded looking at Killer, that he was right. Nightmare would be sentencing them to a new sort of death if he did it like this.

But he didn't have time for a trial. Or several. The sun was going down, abd Ccino expected him back. The castle needed him present, or they might revolt.

Someone might hurt Ccino.

Oh, he was such a poor ruler. He did not know his people well enough. How he lamented the lessons Dream had taken about crowds and current issues abd how to be likeable.

Night didn't know how to handle this. He was still learning!

A trembled in his hand. He tucked the limb quickly away from where it had been lightly clutching his tunics thick fabric, now hiding it beneath his cloak.

"Killer is right. It won't be safe here, for any of you." He spoke. Thank the gods it didn't sound as shaken as he felt. "I extend an offer to you all. You may stay here, or you may come take up positions among my staff back at the castle. Unlike Killer, I do not expect any crime from you, but you will be paid and housed."

The offer was met with a roar of frustration from the crowd, Nightmare chose to allow his guards to handle it. He watched, carefully, as the four looked between eachother.

The brothers agreed first. (They introduced themselves as brothers as they knelt in thanks.) Then the Dog. She said she had no family left to watch over, starting a new life would be for the best.

The flame refused, saying they would leave town by morning, and try to stay safe.

And so, Nightmare left the town with four new party members. Each had been provided a horse, each tied to one of the guards. Aside from Killer, whose steed was held personally by Nightmare.

He figured Ccino would chew him out for this, for bringing criminals into the castle when he was sent to collect soldiers, but Nightmare had a good feeling about these ones.

They did not hate him. Or fear him. He was helping them. And it felt good.

[laufire]

batman #256

I too would put pictures of both of them on my wall and just sit there contemplating them.

[milkbreadtoast]

wait guys new poll as the sequel to my yjh vs cedric one...

[pinkd3mon]

I can respect the hater mentality

[ushatpomoyev]

what if. i just gave you mervor yaoi and wouldn't elaborate

[uhohdad]

@thesoundofrayne once again leaving us gagged. they’re all so good but the price ones in particular i- ✋🏻😭

ily rayne thank u bb <3 <3 🩷💕💖🩷💕

KONIG X READER HUNGER GAMES AU

‼️⚠️🚨MAJOR VICTOR II 🚨MEMES/ SPOILERS BELOW!! ‼️⚠️

more TGWCM memes

[pawsnifferpup]

hewwo and welcome to all the new followers!!! if you'd please proffer your paws I just gotta give them a quick sniff test to determine if you're nice or not, no other reasons at all!!

[potechiis]

homesick

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The lights were completely off inside. 

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

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

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

CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE   

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

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

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

“Prime—“ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s what I thought.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck it.

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

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

That smell. 

Warm. Rich. Aromatic. 

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

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

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

“What the—“

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

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

“Are you still mad at me?” 

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

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

“Are you hungry?”

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

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

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

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

“Y-you— when did you—?!” 

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

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

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

“Mm.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sit down, I’ll plate up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” Rick looked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll wash up.” 

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

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

He walked over to the light switch in the corner. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!”

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