You know those "write badly!" posts that sometimes makes the rounds to encourage all you lovely writers that it's okay that not everything is a masterpiece?

Yeah, those.

I just want all you authors out there not feeling good enough to know that i just decided to reread one of the worst fics I've ever read. Because it's one of the best fics I've ever read.

The plot is simplistic at best. The language is horrible. The pacing is nowhere to be found behind all the "and then!!!" the author peppers their writing like a carbonara with.

But

The characters. The insights into their motivations is fucking master thesis level. I cry just thinking about the way the author predicted where canon was headed years ago. And the way they Preemptively fixed all the ooc-ness the mangaka is now struggling to wrap up.

It's been living in my head rent-free for years and i wouldn't want it any other way. Just with slightly less "and then!!"

So yes, write badly.

In three years time some sucker will come back for seconds because they loved it for all the things you Did manage to do right.

When you turn to writing fantics because the real world is too much to deal with. Def couldn't be me.

Rick Sanchez X Reader Through A Screen pt. 2

This took way longer than I liked to admit to finally publish but that's my bad. I've been going out with friends a lot.

You stayed in Summer's room, sitting on the mattress they had placed for you on her floor, a pink sheet and butterfly pillowcases covered it. You assumed it belonged to a young summer, along with the yellow and pink comforter you knew would be perfect for the wintery weather. You hated everything about this whole arrangement, but you didn't want to seem ungrateful. It wasn't the family that bothered you, nor was it sleeping on a mattress in a teenage girl's room. It was jumping from different universes, with a man who kidnapped you and now living with a version of him that suddenly “cares” about his family.  

You wouldn't admit it, but you really couldn't remember anything from your old life. You didn't even remember how you ended up with Prime. Maybe that's why you felt so angry and agitated when Rick wouldn't stop questioning you, but you never told him you couldn't remember. How long have you not been able to remember? Did the memories slowly fade or did He wipe them all together? You didn’t question it much when you were with Prime, you were more worried about proving how much you loved him so he wouldn’t leave you alone again. 

You stared at the ceiling creating shapes out of nothing, your mind racing with a billion thoughts. That’s all you got done since you finally started getting back to yourself. 

The soft hum from the heater kicked on automatically, filling the slight chilly room. It was comforting in these times.

What if you never made it home? You couldn’t stay like this forever, just waiting to magically reappear in your old bedroom. You definitely didn't want to stay with the Smiths for obvious reasons. Your heart ached just thinking about how your family must have reacted to you disappearing. Did they miss you as much as you missed them?

Part of you worried about going back. What if they blamed you?

You sighed, and closed your eyes, drifting off into a dark slumber, part of you wishing you were back with Prime, because all though things were shit, you gave up on escaping and were able to get used to never knowing. Now you had hope back, and it overwhelmed you with many thoughts of how you could get back home.

Rick helped his daughter carry in the groceries, an uncomfortable smile present on his face, but no one could tell the difference, they were too happy to have him present in their life, something he wasn’t known for. His mind wandered to the girl upstairs.

What was it that kept him drawn in? Why did Rick program him to care so much? Was it to possibly get more information out of her? He knew just as well as the man who created him, there is no information to get out of her, nothing from her past existed in any of the dimensions they could travel. 

He sat the bags at the table and listened to his daughter and her clone talk about how impressed they were with the work he had done to the house. He for sure went overboard with decorations on account he knew his daughter would be pleased, plus it gave him time with Y/N.

By the time they had set up a movie in the living room, you were waking up. Sweat rolled off your forehead and onto your lap forming a small damp area on the blanket, your cheeks were red and your eyes were bloodshot, and it felt like you had been sucking on cotton due to how dry your mouth had become. The thudding of your heart was enough to snap you back into reality long enough to process the dream you had.

You were about six, sitting in what you assumed was a therapy room. The reason you assumed that? The lady who was talking to you kept asking how particular things made you feel, if your parents paid attention to you, the usual stuff you guessed would be talked about.

What really caught your eye was the socks she had on. You were staring at the ground until she uncrossed her legs revealing the Rick and Morty socks that poked out of her shoes. Her pants rode up enough for you to make out the details to confirm it was Rick and Morty.

"Y/N?" She smiled at you, taking note of your interest. This was the first time your eyes sparkled in her entire time of talking to you. You woke up before she could ask another question.

One of your hands held you up, while the other entangled itself within your mop of hair, pushing it away from your face. You couldn't help but hope that was part of your memory returning, but it was so random and made you feel very uneasy.

Not as uneasy as the robot game you walked in on, though.

You locked eyes with one another and he gave a sympathetic look, making you internally cringe and walk back to the kitchen where you sat your glass of water down. That fucker definitely wasn’t Rick, which meant he was probably up to something and that made you uncomfortable enough to barge into the garage with a scowl on your face. 

“Rick!” You shouted, looking around the room. There was a chance he was on a different planet, you just needed to confirm he wasn’t there, and neither was Morty. Well, until he walked in from outside the garage door with an angry look on his face. “Morty? Have you seen the real Rick? We have an imposter.” You crossed your arms.

“Yeah, he’s in a secret lab downstairs.” He responded in annoyance. You could tell it wasn't targeted at you, it was targeted at whatever was going on with his family. 

You didn't understand why you were so upset, was it because you secretly felt betrayed? Of course all Ricks were the same. That’s what you told yourself at least, But you wanted to be proved wrong for once. You expected it and tried to prepare yourself for it, but it hurt. You knew the Rick in there wasn’t as kind as the one he created. He was cold and uncaring. 

You followed Morty as he stormed into the kitchen. The imposter looked at Morty and asked if he wanted to tag his “grandpa” back in; but Morty responded with, “You’re not even my grandpa, youre a fucking robot!”

The Smith family looked heartbroken as Jerry, who had been standing by his side the whole time, cut through the top of his wrist with his ham knife, exposing wires. Things seemed to go in slow motion as they took turns dismantling the robot, but he looked relieved having finally been taken out of his misery. 

You backed up into the garage again, deciding you’d rather sit this one out and enjoy some alone time  tinkering with Rick's shit until he stops being a bitch and decides to face his family. You wouldn’t care for too long about what happened today, you had too much other stuff to deal with and promised yourself if it involved Rick to be over it in 24 hours or kill him.

@kisshuggay

My Brother

`Sometimes love is staying awake until four a.m. with your little brother until he stops feeling su''cid'l even if the thoughts start coming back a few hours later. It’s waiting until he's done crying to ask him what's wrong, only to find out it’s because the kids in school were bullying him again. I’d stay awake twenty four hours if it means that my sixteen year old baby brother lives to see seventeen. He’s smart, I know people all say that about their younger brothers, but I mean it. He’s smart enough to distract our mom while I sneak into her room and score the alcohol. I’d be the one to fuck it up by tripping over something while she still doesn't have a clue he was in on it. His music taste varies, mostly consisting of old country music like Keith Whitley, yet he listens to a lot of my own stuff too, like the rock that helped me get through my depression. He plays games and has online friends who understand what it's like to feel outcasted. He isn't afraid to cry and, though I've only seen it a few times, I can’t help but feel an ache in my heart wishing i could take all those horrible feelings away from him. As we speak, we're still chilling on facetime, just enjoying each others company. I'm sure the typing of my keyboard comforts him, like his music comforts me, it lets me know I helped him make it through another night. I get to be part of his support system, and I'm doing a damn good job if he's still here. I would unravel all of my thread if it gives I'm something to hold onto. I have other siblings who are just as great, but this one needs me the most right now.

Rick Sanchez X Reader Through A Screen pt. 1

Rick is literally a walking trigger so I guess beware. Been obsessing over this old fuck more than he obsesses over Prime Rick, so this might be a series. I'm open to ideas and changing things up if anyone wants to recommend shit, I'll do smut too if it makes you all happy. I'm bored and finally have my laptop fixed so I'm back on my shit again. I also work full time, so sorry if things are uploaded late.

He worked quietly, a few belches escaping his throat, never breaking the comfortable silence that filled his lab beneath the garage. You were above ground with his family, making small talk, he was sure, because that was the kind of person he found you to be. You clouded his mind as much as Prime Rick did these days, and he was sure it was sickening. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in weeks, but he could feel the stubble on his face as he dragged his hand down it hopelessly.

He knew taking you would bring Prime here, it was only a matter of time, and he knew he was risking his family's lives, but he was selfish. There were other Beths in the universe, other Jerrys, and Summers, he didn’t need these ones, right? All he needed was You and Morty. There was no one like you two to be found, even if there were multiple Mortys in the universe, this one made him feel something. This one made him feel protective.

What about you? He couldn’t figure out how you made him feel.

Using a piece of your hair he found in his ship, He searched each dimension for another version of you, any version of you, yet there was none.

That's what made you special to Prime Rick, but how did he get you? In a galaxy full of universes so vast, it didn’t make sense unless you died in all the others.

He asked you question after question for the first week, getting nothing but a cold shoulder and glare unless others were around. He scanned your brain, traveled into your memory without you knowing and what he found kept him up at night. That's what led him down this path, deciding to keep you here and search for Rick once more. He hoped Prime valued you as much as he led Rick to believe. 

He had to, why else would he kidnap a strange teenage girl off her world and keep her hidden in an invisible lab, drugging her with love hormones? Morty was the one who found you as Rick tried to chase the possible clone of Prime Rick down a sliding tube. He was mocking Rick, just like he always had.

You were banging on a door when you got Mortys attention. Rick didn’t care until the door opened and you fell out. At first, Rick thought Prime was using this as a distraction, but if the clone was a distraction, why have another? Something in his gut screamed this was more serious andbto take you and ditch the place.

So that’s what he did. It took you a lot of time to get adjusted, you were used to being there only to validate Prime. He would often be very loving towards you, leaving you feeling high off of oxytocin, then just as soon as you felt good about the relationship you two had, he’d criticize you, blow up on you, leave you for months without so much of a “HI”. 

That was the part you knew, you didn't know he was watching you, making sure you didn't get a scratch on you unless he permitted it. 

It was his elaborate scheme to make you feel powerless unless he was around, because more often than not, you were isolated, touch starved and deprived of human contact. It led to delusions and paranoia on your part, along with feeling cold and shut off to the rest of the world.

Rick discovered he was drugging you with a chemical that forced you to feel like you were in love with him, so after a couple days of being away, you started to feel yourself again and realized you had a strong hatred for all Ricks, including the one who “saved” you. You knew it was for his own benefit, that's all Ricks ever cared about. 

Rick grumbled and slumped in his seat, defeat washing over him at another failed attempt in locating Prime Rick. 

Above ground, the Smith family gathered into the car, realizing they forgot to grab a few things for christmas dinner and decided to have a family trip to the market, leaving Rick and You in the living room setting up more Christmas decorations. You hummed, hanging the garland where the ceiling met the wall, entranced by the beautiful shimmer.

It had been so long since you celebrated anything besides Prime Rick's success at making technology you never cared for.

Rick stood nearby adding snowflakes to the tree. He couldn’t help stealing glances at you, thoughts of your beauty and how nothing could compare to it filled his mind. He was programmed to abide by your every wish, and to keep Morty happy, to think and act like the real Rick but to care twenty two percent more than the original. He felt guilty not being able to tell anyone the Truth, but Morty had already found out, and he knew it wouldn't be long before you did too. 

Leaning over a little too far to the side, you gasped feeling the stepping stool wobble, and before long you were squealing out in shock as you collapsed on a pile of pillows Rick shot out of his hand. Rushing to your side, he quickly scanned you with his eye, then let out a deep breath of relief when the scan came back negative for any injuries.

“R-Rick… Thank you.” You mumbled, glancing up at him, then looking down shamefully. You felt a pain in your chest, waiting for him to call you stupid, or make fun of you, a reminder of how superior he was, something all Ricks seemed to have in common. Memories of Prime Rick filled your head, knowing he would have mocked you for making such a small mistake. 

“Y-yeah *brugghbb* Are you okay?” He asked, helping you to your feet, eyeing every move you made. He knew the answer already, but your body was tense and he could tell something was bothering you.

“Yeah- no, no, I'm completely fine, thank you.” You smiled forcefully at the pointy haired man. You hated looking at him, it felt patronizing. You were tortured by this man, maybe not this exact one, but by a counterpart of his. You stood up, and began to walk away while dusting yourself off, but before you could take a step forward, he grabbed your wrist, and in turn, you looked back at him, hate filling your E/C eyes.

“Something’s bothering you- y-you were fine before you fell, what's-what’s wrong?” Rick dully stared into your eyes. Keeping a firm, but gentle grip on you.

“Fuck off.” He was caught by surprise by your sharp tongue, not having ever dealt with your bipolar mood swings and only seeing the facade you put up around others. This was the first time alone with the Rick Bot, but in your head,you thought  it was just Rick. You weren't aware your savior was beneath ground haunted by his past and drowning in depression and whiskey. You didn’t know enough about Rick to know if that was him or not, you never cared to pay much attention to him, in turn making him angry because he was so used to having all eyes on him, he was so egotistical, and full of himself. 

Maybe that's what caught Prime Rick's attention. You couldn’t care for enabling self-centered assholes who believed they were on par with God, even if you didn’t believe such a thing existed, which is funny because more unbelievable things than an invisible man filled your life. Hell, traveling through dimensions is possible, who's to say God isn’t?

Rick let you go, and you rushed off to your shared room with Summer. 

No one:

Absolutely no one:

Me: Is your name suicìde? Bc I think about you everday.