#mesa writes

[rickfucker]

SFW Rick Headcanons (GN!)

BC why not. This season is literally so good so I’m celebrating with this nonsense >:)

I am of the belief that Rick is huge on PDA. If you asked him, though, he’d deny it vehemently.

Arm around your shoulder on the couch, around your waist out in public, hand on your thigh when he’s driving. If there’s the chance to make someone else uncomfortable for his own personal enjoyment, he will take it. He doesn’t like it when people so much as look at you wrong. He will let them know you’re taken in the most obnoxious way possible.

He also loves PDA for the sake of embarrassing you. Getting to see his SO blush/get flustered makes life worth living.

He’s tall as all hell so: resting his chin on top of your head and top of the head kisses!!

Comparing hand sizes because yes.

Obviously, he’s a hard man to get close to. I imagine he does a good job at making you feel like you know him/relate to him one moment, but when he realizes he’s shown any vulnerability, he locks back up and gets pissy about it for a few days. Absolute King of mixed signals.

When he picks up on things that interest you, he finds things on his adventures to bring you, whether it's snowglobes of alien planets or potions or geodes or whatever. He’ll never directly give you a gift, though, he’ll just leave it somewhere inconspicuous like next to where you keep your other trinkets in your home.

(The first time you try to thank him for a gift, he acts like he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. It’s never brought up again, but your collection mysteriously keeps growing.)

If you’re significantly shorter than him (or just shorter than him at all), he will tease you for it. If you’re stubborn about reaching all the shit on high shelves yourself, he’ll just stand there watching you amusedly instead of helping. Glaring at him will only entertain him further.

I do imagine he does best with a SO equally as insufferable as him. Nice people will never break past his hard exterior. But someone just as stubborn? Someone he can intellectually spar with? Someone with just as much baggage to be bitter about? That, he can work with.

He loves introducing you to new alien drugs, honestly. If not just for the fun of it, he probably already finds you fascinating, so he’d be studying your reactions when not partaking in it himself.

Rick talks during movies. Shocker; the man never shuts up. You have weekly movie nights with the family, but Rick just mercilessly makes fun of whatever you’re watching for its entirety. It could literally be Shawshank Redemption, he doesn’t care. Every Earth-made movie can and will be mocked in his household.

I’m not under the impression he wouldn’t say The Love Word. Give him enough time and he will get there. He gets so annoyed with his own hubris that he makes a point of saying it first. He knows what love feels like and he knows he’s in love with you, and being in love pisses him off just as much as denying it to protect his pride does.

He barely sleeps, and when he does it’s only for a few hours. When he wakes in the early hours of the morning, he’ll watch you sleep for a while before tucking you in and heading to his work space.

He loves just making out; it makes him feel young.

Learns how you like your coffee (or tea!), and it’s always sitting there when you get up for the day, regardless of if you’re at his house or not.

Seeing you get along with the kids makes his self-proclaimed frozen heart melt a little. His only way of showing this is vague annoyance, mostly because they’re taking your attention away from him. 

What can I say? He’s the biggest baby in the universe.

Bonus: 

He dresses up as Slutty Santa to disturb his family. Makes you sit on his lap and tell him what you want for Christmas later that night.

[hellothere-generalangsty]

I had dreamed of the galaxy. Dreamed of its darkest caves and brightest suns, dreamed of the flourishing ponds of Naboo, dreamed of Coruscant and its city lights, Umbara and its glowing plants; dreamed of an horizon made of water and rain, of sand and sun.

I had dreamed, it is true, of a galaxy far, far away.

At night, I would sneak out through the window and reach the roof - a small effort to climb closer to the stars. Thousands... Millions of stars, faint yet omnipresent, as a reminder of what was out there, just out of reach.

As I would gaze upon them, I would try to get a feel of their warmth. I would remember the words spoken by my father - promises of vast and rich worlds. I would remember my mother's eyes, glowing with delight as we would listen to stories of adventures and discoveries. Images would fill my head, and hope, my heart.

Hope, to one day get close enough to the stars. To one day be able to reach them. To see beyond the limits of my own land, to go further than the end of our garden, further than the neighboring forests, deeper than the nearby river. I dreamed of feelings.

The feeling of cold snow resting on my cheeks, of shivers running down my spine and warm smoke coming out of my mouth.

The feeling of eternal warmth as the sun would kiss my skin and burn my eyes, of the rough sensation of sand slipping in my shoes and under my clothes.

The feeling of restlessness from strolling endlessly through the capital city, a place where lights never goes off, where heartbeats join in unison to keep the planet alive.

I would bury myself in dreams and expectations for a galaxy far, far away from me.

I would never pay attention to my sister's words, dipped in too much wisdom for such a young age.

"Even the brightest star must fade and die," she would say to me, "It has always been, and will always be."

To me, the stars were eternal. Glitter peppered accross the galaxy, a reflection of our hopes and dreams, captured in all their bright glory. Nothing could cause them to fade and die, not even the words of a child.

Until that day, where a new star appeared in our sky. It was closer than any other star, so close I could almost reach it. I tried, with my fingertips, to get a touch of it, a texture, an impression. I could guess, from the shape of it, a cold surface. It did not look like anything I had ever imagined.

It did not glow. Not until it was too late.

All I could see was a green bolt of light, brighter than anything I had ever seen before.

I knew, somehow, that I would never feel the coldness of a snowflake on my cheek, nor the eternal warmth of two suns kissing my bare skin; and I would never feel the heartbeat of a city that never sleeps.

The roof collapsed under my feet. My heart fell, as did my body.

Farther and farther grew the galaxy I had spent countless nights dreaming of, and as the glowing light turned blood red, as the stars faded away behind a thick veil of smoke and ashes, I understood my sister's words.

More than a reminder... a prophecy.

[weirdcharacter]

Insatiable

Word Count: 620 words

CW/ TW: Gory (graphic) and horror content, violence; swear words, blood, guts, death, and people being crushed/decapitated/exploded in a way /eaten. Monster, tracking/ hunting, mouths and teeth, sort of body horror? But like- it’s normal since it’s an eldritch creature. 

Song that inspired this. Also inspired by LDR V2 creatures designs. Not proofread bc lazy and if I do I will probably delete it so.

_

A loud succession of cracking warned them of the trees falling in the forest, and how dangerously closer that thing was. They thought they would lose it in the wood as they would be able to sneak around while it couldn’t; but it was determined, hungry.

Insatiable.

“Run, dammit run!”

A brutal thud barely resonated against the snow, and the weight of a pine heavily falling crushed two of his teammates, splashing blood and guts all around, tainting the white coat covering the floor with a dark, textured red shade. The low growling sounded clearer now that the creature was out of the woods; pushing on its arms to rise up, a white, faceless head twitching to the side, reacting to any noise coming from the ground.

A particular, painful whimper caught its attention. One of the team member was stuck on a pine branch. Their leg had been impaled when the tree fell, and unless they found a way to cut one or the other, they couldn’t get away.

“No!” one of them screamed as the creature bent over the tree, growling; and it stopped in its track.

The faceless figure took a long second – on that felt eternal, yet inexistent – before slowly turning its head toward the remaining members of the group. A low, guttural growl made its layers of skins vibrate, and rested on one of its arm to walk toward them.

“Get…Get away!” A sharp whine rose from the tree branch, “Look at me, y-you bastard!” And that crew member hoped that by screaming they would buy some time for their friends to run away and hide. “Look at m-!”

The strangled, chocking noise that came out of their mouth sent shiver down their teammates’ spines. But the sight; one of these three long finger diving slowly, deeply into their throat, making their body twitch and convulse from the pain, pushing with such coldness until the bones broke under the pressure and the head almost detached itself from the body…

It didn’t even turned its head when it heard the barely threatening screams. It was too busy focusing on the group, because a group means more food.

Food. It was hungry. The creature closed two fingers around the tree branch, breaking it in a swift, sudden movement, and bent a knee to rest on as it separated the body from its wooden prison.

They had to hear that low growl, to watch the layers of skin on its hands blossom like petals, revealing ranges of sharp, thin teeth, and a grey smoke escape the dark hole hidden behind. A fly trap; breaking, ripping, and swallowing what was once a human body. Its fingers were tainted red, chunks of meat still dangling here and there.

But it didn’t stop. Its head opened the way its hands did, and as it got back up on its limbs, a clawed hand fell on the frozen bodies below, wrapping them in a bloody, stinky trap.

It was hungry. It chomped on one head while swallowing another body; and as if it wasn’t enough, a thick, grey cloud of smoke escaped from the blossoming layers of skin on its face. A clicking groan came out of the dark hole kept safe behind the long, thin teeth, and they could swear that thing’s face twisted in a smirk.

They quickly verified this information, when the creature threw itself on the few remaining survivors; and those who were not crushed by its weight were broken and chomped, their bodies impaled and their screams swallowed whole.

It still blended in the landscape; a white, layered coat, stained with blood and guts, lurking in silence for a new prey.

It is here.

It waits.

Insatiable.

[rickfucker]

What positive influences do you think a really good, loving relationship would have on Rick and his behavior? 🥺

i must feed my children before the premiere >:)

You’ve probably heard the phrase, “hurt people hurt people.” I think that a lot of rick’s negative feelings towards love (other than the obvious) have to do with feeling constantly rejected. Not just romantically, but from his friends and family, as well. He may be charming and charismatic, but he’s also cold, rude, argumentative, and a walking red flag. It’s clear our rick hasn’t had a significant relationship since his wife (or birdperson), and I have to assume that’s the case across the multiverse.

For you to make it past the hard exterior he portrays, you’d have to be damn patient. When you’ve been around long enough, he will push you away, because he expects that you’ll do the same eventually. Better to leave than to be left. When you refuse his behavior and the fact that you won’t stop until he has an honest conversation with you about why, he gets annoyed. Then angry. Then, confused.

In fact, I’d say those couple emotions cycle consistently when you do nice things for him, or look at him with affection, or compliment him, or are honest when he inevitably asks you why you even like him. His god complex and insecurity are constantly at odds with each other. Obviously you want to be with him; he’s a genius sexpert who can take you to space, for fucks sake. But in that same vein, he’s paranoid that it’s the only reason. 

& actually to answer the ask, your kindness towards him & patience with the relationship slowly make him realize that he’s a gigantic asshole. He already knows this, obviously, but now he feels something about it. He feels bad. When he snaps, yells, insults, or generally hurts your feelings, and then gets drunk to tell you he’s sorry, you forgive him. He harbors this guilt because he sees his behavior as something he can’t or supposedly doesn’t want to change. The more his partner reassures him that it’s okay (i mean, the pain in this man is palpable) and that you’ll be around when he’s ready to unpack all that, the safer he feels in the relationship. It translates to the other relationships he has, too, as he starts to really take note of the way his family (inconsiderate and like him as they can be) hasn’t given up on him, either.

Some of the most important things a person needs when recovering from trauma are feeling safe, having a support system, and confronting the negative self beliefs your trauma has instilled in you. He’s unlovable, he’s a failure, he only wants what he can’t have. These are things he thinks about himself subconsciously, and as love and comfort overtake what was once a lonely, pointless waste of space, he finds himself wanting to finally confide in you.

I think the thing about feeling safe for the first time in a long time is that all of worst feelings you were able to push down and away (due to the focus being on surviving the situation and not your own brain) become impossible to ignore. Those feelings need to go somewhere, and even though the happiness and comfort of a loving relationship terrifies the shit out of him, he doesn’t want to be miserable anymore. He didn’t realize how absolutely miserable he was because he didn’t know it could get better.

I have a lot of thoughts about trauma and the process of healing. Rick will never be the perfect man, he’ll probably never go to therapy long term to learn all of those sick coping skills, (he’ll probably still drink bc autism) but he likes himself more as the person who’s trying to be better than the person who refused to. Mostly because he loves seeing you happy because of him.

[rickfucker]

can u please just infodump about ricks autism?like his stims,his “icky sensations” etc?thank you! <3

Please forgive the informal nature of this; I obviously have not been writing a lot lately, but I'm back on my Adderall and thinking about Rick as much as I think about Astarion from Baldur’s Gate.

First of all, Rick’s love of Birdperson is because he’s so unlike anyone Rick’s ever met. He’s totally straight forward, no guessing games on his intentions. Given a theory that I just reblogged a day ago, he’s probably got familial trauma similar enough to Rick, in their distrust of love, and possibly marriage. Birdperson is serious and goal-oriented, but lets loose around Rick’s influence BECAUSE they’re both autistic as fuck LMAO.

Rick is hella stimmy. He’s big on echolalia. Always whistling, humming or singing, repeating brand new alien phrases (wubba lubba dub dub, duhh) that have a good mouth feel. Writing songs with his favorite words. Also totally makes fun of people who can’t whistle.

I’ve talked before about his food & texture sensitivities. He’s totally fine eating spaghetti made out of people, but lo mein noodles? Absolutely not; too slimy. He can rip the head off a snake with his bare teeth, yes. He's just so specific with the things he dislikes. Take a chicken breast for example - that's fine. Breaded? Fine. Gravy on chicken breast? Fine. Gravy on breaded chicken breast? Bin it. Anything attached to a bone? No, thank you. Anything that still looks like the animal (whole fish filet, for example), no, thank you. Soup? Better be vegetable and no solids except croutons only. That way, nothing gets too soggy.

He inspects every chip/crisp/french fry before eating for black or green parts. If they have any blemishes like that, they’re getting chucked. He tried once to eat one once, just to challenge himself, and nearly got sick. The texture was simply ungodly.

Some one-off thoughts:

He hates a lot of different clothing textures, which is why he’s always wearing the same outfits. He cut off those clothing tags and cloned the result so he doesn’t have to deal anymore. 

Usually wears shoes around the house. Doesn’t like walking around the house without socks on.

Clumsy when he’s not on high-alert, like on adventures. Got hella bruises on his legs from running into the living room furniture & his work areas in the garage.

Definitely particular about temperature. He keeps his room a toasty 71 degrees, but never 72.

that's all I got for now. Hope you enjoy, anon.

[rickfucker]

Got any hcs for Rick and his very jumpy s/o? I just imagine his surprise visits in the middle of the night are scarier than he intends. When his frustration turns into loud exclamations making them jump he cringes the slightest bit

I can imagine that at first, he thinks it’s funny. You hear weird banging coming from your living room in the middle of the night, almost stabbing him with a pen (or whatever relatively sharp object you have at your disposal) when he breaks into your room. The first time he wakes you up, you scream. He finds it hysterical. 

He starts to go out of his way to scare you by sneaking up on you from behind and the like. Once he sees you get genuinely upset the more he does it, instead of the seething irritation he’s used to seeing, he starts to feel bad. He’s still not very observant of his own behavior, so even though he stops going out of his way to freak you out, even hanging around him can be needlessly stressful.

His weapons and devices are loud, he goes on tangential rants constantly (with no perception of how loud he’s being), he barges into rooms, and occasionally leaves you to your own devices off planet. 

He probably wouldn’t pick up on it on his own, even if he starts feeling bad every time he sees you jump. It’d probably take you snapping to fully lodge it in his brain. 

He starts calling before randomly dropping in on you. He nonchalantly hands you headphones when he’s doing work in the garage. He keeps you close when you go on adventures, and goes solo or with Morty when he thinks the mission would end up bothering you. It’s just little things. He’s not a sweeping gesture kind of guy, but if you’re important to him, he’ll put in just enough effort to keep you comfortable.

[rickfucker]

he’s so fine i want him so bad but also i want to punch him in the teeth really hard

i suppose i can share this TINY excerpt from vertigo while we're on the topic, anon:

“Rick, you can’t be serious.” Your heart jumps as he towers over you.

“As a heart attack.” He holds a hand over his heart, his expression falling in mock gravitas.

When he lunges, reaching out to grab your abdomen, your gut reaction is to duck away from his height. You manage to trip him with your left leg slightly outstretched. You hear him make a sound of surprise before chuckling, barely meeting his eyes again before he’s coming at you. You didn’t think fast enough.

He anticipates your next move, swinging at his side, absorbing your punch with his palm. He pulls you forward, a wiry arm wrapping around your middle. You instinctually drop your weight before he can get a good grip, falling knees first into the hardwood floor. You slip through his legs easily, hooking one as you go. He loses balance just enough to send him face planting into the floor as you pounce on his back.

You hit it hard, so hard that you immediately rush to get off his back. “Rick! Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry-,”

As soon as he’s freed from your weight, he pushes up onto his knees. Your apology dies in your throat as he pushes you to the floor, caging your body with his own, your wrists pulled above your head. It takes the air out of you, gasping for breath, fully trapped beneath his weight and the crushing hold on your wrists.

Rick is breathing heavily, so close you can feel the air as it puffs against your face. You’ve made him lose his breath. Even then, you can’t imagine you’re actually able to overpower him. Even without synthetic DNA, Rick was stronger than he looked. But his egging on works like a charm. Just like it always has.

“What is wrong with you?” you seethe, your knees beginning to throb.

“Got a year?”

You feel lightheaded as you try to breathe deeper and slower.

“You gonna punch me or what? Come on, I know you got it in you, baby,” he pants out with a wicked smile.

[rickfucker]

(kinda emo) Nsfw Rick Headcanons (GN!)

i’ve gained lots of followers since my last post. hello! and welcome to the shitshow. this turned out extra emo! for whatever reason idk. i think it might just be because of how much i love rick this season. he’s a little softer. pls enjoy.

Sex is one of those things that he almost overdid when he was younger. He still loves it, don’t get me wrong, but he used it as an unhealthy coping mechanism in tandem with his drinking. It started losing its spark as he really got on in years.

This man is of the streets. He’s seen it all and he’s done it all.

Definitely a switch. His default is soft dominant. He will give endless praise, from how stunning your body is to how well you take him.

He gets tired, though. He’s spent his whole life fighting shadows of himself; trying to convince himself that he doesn’t need anyone. He wouldn’t ask you outright, necessarily, but if you decide to take the reigns from him for a night, he melts right into it. He wants someone to take care of him. Love him. Be gentle with him, just enough to make him forget about the cruelty of his own existence.

Sex with you is healing for him in that respect. He has done the hard and fast with everyone he’s ever met. You’re a fresh start, like he’s being given a second chance at doing things the right way.

He takes his time with you. To the point of your very obvious frustration. I’m talking hours of foreplay.

He’s the type to gently coerce you into saying exactly what you want in bed, usually in the filthiest way possible. Once again, extra points for the full-body blushing you’ll be doing. He eats that shit up.

He wants to hear you say what you want. That you want him, specifically. Consent is sexy!

Nicknames for days. Sweetheart, baby, hun, sugar, sweetcheeks, lmao. He loves just hearing you say his name, though.

He likes to fuck in weird places. Views it like a sort of challenge.

You would definitely have sex in every room in the house. Kitchen countertops, living room couch, the shower (obviously), laying you out on top of the dining room table (you insist on Clorox-ing afterward because he certainly isn’t going to do it).

He would never risk the possibility of you two being walked in on, though. He’s for sure into exhibitionism to an extent, but not with his family in mind. For your privacy as much as his own. Also his territorial nature. Nobody is viewing the goods but him.

He actually doesn’t want to have sex on his workspace. He’s got too much important shit that can’t risk, ahem, contamination.

If you get awkward of feel embarrassed while bumping uglies, he literally does not care. Everything you do is sexy to him, including all of the very human things about you.

(AFAB) I can’t tell if he’s a boob or a butt guy, but that’s ‘cause he’s a pussy guy. We all know this. He is King of giving head and he fucking loves it. 

(AMAB) Same goes here. King of Giving Head; He WILL give you that sloppy toppy.

Always makes his partner come first.

He can’t pick a favorite position, but he does love it when you ride him, especially dry humping. He likes it when the two of you end up so in the moment that there’s no time for taking off clothes.

Goes absolutely feral when you say you love him.

Sometimes cries a little after really intense sex, but not when you can see him. He’s got all these pent up emotions that just end up toppling over when he lets his guard down.

Pillow talk for a hundred years. He likes it when you start rambling about the future, toying with his hands while you talk softly. “Maybe we could move somewhere closer to the ocean. Or are you more of a cabin in the woods kind of guy?” You laugh at the idea of Rick lounging on the beach, which he takes mock offense to.

You make him think about things he never would have considered before. What reason would he have to ask himself the less important questions of life? Like what his favorite architectural style of home is. What would his perfect vacation look like? If he had to pick a new hobby to start, what would it be? It’s just nonsense, things he would never talk about in front of anyone else due to their irrelevant nature, but in the afterglow with you, he likes it. Maybe it makes him feel more normal; suburban; domestic. Maybe he just likes how dreamily you talk about those things, and the way you give him your full, rapt attention in the quiet sanctity of his tiny bedroom. Nothing else exists but you.