#rick trousers

[arrow-v-flash-polls]

Which version of Wild Dog's suit do you prefer, 1 or 2?

[haeccorizon]

RICK OWENS SPRING 2024 MENSWEAR

Obsessed with this image. There's something about the forward lean, the strap across his back,the dangling glove and way the darts on those high waisted pants that serves the monsters/machines in neon Genesis Evangelion and even the being in the beginning of the bad batch season 2.

I love the concept of something from the future that will one day be astonishing and ancient in the distant future.

This collection was giving me all of that. Especially with the paneled wide shoulder jackets.

I'm happy to be inspired by Rick again.

[kendalljennerstyle133]

[unique-goods-where-to-buy]

RICK OWENS DRKSHDW Flared Boot cut Jeans 2022-23FW.

[powerfashionblog]

Who: Alix Lapri as Effie Morales What: Rick Owens Bauhaus Zip-Detail Cargo Trousers - $1170.00. And HERE for $2,278.00 Where: 3x05 “No More Second Chances”

Worn with: Sacai jacket

[coqvttes]

୨୧― 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠. 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

୨୧˚ synopsis: your dad sends his best friend officer grimes to pick up his precious daughter from a party, but things get heated when rick punishes you for resisting an officer.

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, p in v, petnames, crying, teasing, spanking, fem!reader, sub!reader, dbf!rick, dom!rick, age gap, creampie, rough sex, manhandling, mentions of handcuffs, public sex, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k for @pillow-princess-69 ‘s request <3

“you’re coming with me, sweetheart,” he says, giving you no chance to answer or even breathe before he’s hoisting you up and practically throwing you over his broad shoulder. you squeal as he holds you firmly in place. 

“noooooo, rick, im having fun!” you wail, smacking his shoulder as if it would do any damage. he shakes his head as he heads back towards the front door, his hand holding you by the waist, fingers so dangerously close to your arse.

“‘m staying here!” pleading, you kick your legs up in the air, causing his grip on your side to tighten. He pays you no attention as he pushes through the crowd of people holding red cups and dancing to the awfully loud music. 

he manages to get past the front door and he pulls the door of his police patrol car open, leaning down to plop you down in the passenger seat. he slams your door shut before getting in the driver's seat. 

“seatbelt,” he orders, but you ignore him and huff as you cross your arms, gosh you never fail to give him the usual attitude. he rolls his eyes before leaning over you to click your seatbelt on for you like a child.

“i’m not a baby! it was just a party. it’s only midnight! you just had to barge in and ruin it.” you complain, glaring at him. 

“your dad sent me to pick you up, so i’m just doing my job, and i don’t want you to get drunk and get yourself into trouble.”

he starts the engine up and rests his hand on the back of your headrest to reverse, but you don’t even hear him as your attention is focused entirely on his beefy arm as he’s trying to reverse out of the driveway. 

“officer, is it true that you get to take your handcuffs home?” 

his brow raises, and he gives you a curious expression before nodding. 

“yes, i take my cuffs home with me, got em right here,” he says, taking a hand off the wheel to show you the cuffs that hang on the belt of his trousers. you smile before speaking again.

“do you use them when you have sex?”

his expression changes to complete shock, and his cheeks burn as he spares you a glance. his expression is priceless as he fumbles with his words, unsure of how to answer such a question.

“i’d let you put me in handcuffs, officer. grimes,” you whisper, trailing your fingers slowly up his tense thigh before hastily grabbing onto his prominent bulge in his trousers, palming him cheekily.

oh now you’ve done it. He abruptly stops the car in the middle of nowhere, as it seems. you smirk as you try to read his emotions as he switches gears before pulling his seatbelt off. he gets out of the car before looping around to your side, opening the passenger door.

“get out.” he pulls you out by the arm roughly and slams the door shut, maneuvering you over to the hood of the car as you stumble along.

“you need to watch your mouth, sweetheart. saying things like that to a man might get you into some trouble, you know?” 

his voice is deep and throaty, and your cunt is practically drooling for him as he bends you over the bonnet of the car, his palm pressing down on the dip of your back, just above your arse. 

“‘m sorry, officer, are you gonna have to punish me?” you tease, wiggling your arse at him, practically taunting him. 

“god, you’ve been testing my patience, sweetheart. you know how long i’ve had to hold back from putting you in your place? god if it wasn’t for your dad, i would’ve fucked you by now.” 

rick practically growls as he flips up your little skirt, smiling when he sees how your cute little cotton panties have a dark wet spot down the middle, right where your precious cunt is.

“awww you wet for me, darlin?” he coos, rubbing his calloused thumb over the dampness of your panties, pressing down ever so gently. he grins satisfactorily as you let out a quiet whimper, arching your back into the pleasure.

his fingers sneak into your panties and cup your glistening mound before tugging them down entirely, pulling them off your legs before stuffing them in his pocket, but you don't know that. 

you gasp and turn your head around as you hear his belt unbuckling before he tugs his trousers and briefs down just enough so that he can pull his dick out. he’s so hard, his angry head is leaking with pre-cum from your previous teasing. 

he rubs the tip against your weeping cunt a few times before he pushes inside of you, groaning throatily. you lunge forward from the sudden intrusion and gasp out his name. 

his hand rests on the dip of your back, and his other rests on the curve of your arse. he sheathes himself inside you entirely before pulling out halfway, his movements are slow, and you whine impatiently. just as you’re about to complain, he starts thrusting in and out of your hole mercilessly.

knocking the air out of your lungs, you feel the drag of his dick in your gummy walls as he fucks you into oblivion. your knees buckle, and you lose your balance, but his strong, muscular arms hold you up against the car firmly.

god forbid, if any car drove past you, you’d both be down for public indecency, but it’s 4 a.m. and nobody drives down these roads at this hour. besides, he’s the law around here; he’s never letting anything happen to you, not on his watch.

rick cruelly pounds into your cunt, whispering filthy nonsense about how he’s been waiting so long to do this and how much of a brat you are. 

none of it makes sense in your dumb mind. with the feeling of his dick bullying into you, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting for this too. 

“r-rick! faster!” you cry, your voice wobbling slightly as your body lunges forward with each of his thrusts. 

“say it properly,” he tuts, bringing his palm up before smacking it on the softness of your arse. whimpering through tears, you barely manage.

“p-please officer, faster-!” he lets out a hum of approval before picking up his pace, now brutally snapping his hips against yours. 

it’s all too much with the rough groans coming from his throat, the lewd smacking noises of his hips snapping against yours, and your slutty moans. your climax nears as you chant his name like a prayer. 

he pounds into you in an almost animalistic manner, his hands gripping onto your waist so tight you swear you’ll bruise later. drool dripping down the corner of your lips at how deliciously filthy he’s fucking you. 

“ohh rickkk, mm!” you moan delightedly as your cunt clenches around him, pleasure washing over you entirely as you lose yourself around him. he follows up shortly, releasing his cum inside you with a broken moan.

“sweetheart”

he slowly exhales as he pulls out of your heat, warm cum spilling out of your used hole as you remain bent over his car, cunt clenching around nothing as he leaves you empty. 

“thank you, officer.” you giggle, pulling your panties back up.

“fuck, your dad’s gonna kill me.” he sighs, zipping his trousers back up and smirking at you. 

“not if he doesn’t find out.” you smile at him cheekily, approaching him, and he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. you lean up to whisper, “next time, i’ll let you cuff me, officer.” you grin before walking past him to get back into the car.

he stands there, dumbfounded and wondering if he should just take you in the back of the car right now. he doesn’t think he can wait till next time, whenever next time is…

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2024. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

[oceanpulls]

Photos by Danielle Levitt for GQ, in a now-deleted article.

GQ Article

Outfit details:

Photos 1, 6, 8, and 11: On Trent Reznor: Coat by Faqtpry. T-shirt by Calvin Klein. On Atticus Ross: Jacket by Faqtory. Photo 2: Cape by Dolce & Gabbana. Turtleneck by Ralph Lauren Purple Label. Ring (on left ring finger, throughout) his own. Ring (on left pinkie, throughout) by Møsaïs Paris from Voyager Archive.On Atticus Ross: Shirt by Willy Chavarria. Jeans by Ralph Lauren Purple Label. Boots by Christian Louboutin. Sunglasses by Gentle Monster. Necklace, bracelet, and ring (on right ring finger, throughout) by The Great Frog. Ring (on pinkie, throughout) by Parts of Four from Voyager Archive. Ring (on left ring finger, throughout) his own. On Trent Reznor: Jacket by Canali. Shirt by Rick Owens. Trousers by Ralph Lauren Purple Label. Boots by Balenciaga. Necklace from Voyager Archive. Ring (on right ring finger, throughout) by The Great Frog. Photo 3: Cape by Dolce & Gabbana. Turtleneck by Ralph Lauren Purple Label. Ring (on left ring finger, throughout) his own. Ring (on left pinkie, throughout) by Møsaïs Paris from Voyager Archive. Photo 4: On Trent Reznor: Coat and trousers by Willy Chavarria. Sweater by Diesel. Boots, his own. On Atticus Ross: Jacket by Versace. Tank top by Junya Watanabe Man. Trousers by Fear of God. Boots by Gianvito Rossi. Sunglasses by Gentle Monster. Watch by Hublot. Ring (on left hand), his own. Bracelet and ring (on right hand) by Eliburch Jewelry. Photo 5: Jacket by Bottega Veneta. Sweater by Zegna. Sunglasses by Barton Perreira. Wallet chain (worn at neck) by Martine Ali. Photo 7: On Atticus Ross: Coat by Saint Laurent by Anthony Vaccarello. Scarf stylist’s own. Sunglasses by Ahlem. On Trent Reznor: Jacket by Dolce & Gabbana. Sweater by Ferragamo. Necklace by The Great Frog. Photo 9: Jacket by R13. Tank top by Givenchy. Trousers by Ralph Lauren Purple Label. Boots by Balenciaga. Photo 10: On Atticus Ross: Shirt by Willy Chavarria. Tank top by Junya Watanabe Man. Jeans by Ralph Lauren Purple Label. Boots by Christian Louboutin. Sunglasses by Gentle Monster. Necklace and bracelet by The Great Frog. On Trent Reznor: Jacket by Fear of God. Shirt by Rick Owens. Trousers by Ralph Lauren Purple Label. Boots by Balenciaga. Necklace from Voyager Archive.

[specialagentlokitty]

Rick Grimes x reader - starting with trust, ending with us

Part 1:

You had no intention of staying in one spot for too long, in a world like this one that wasn’t the best idea, it was safer to keep morning.

But the gash in your leg had changed those plans, and you couldn’t travel far on it without falling, so, you stuck to the trees.

You knew there was other nearby, from the traps scattered around, and the fact that when you checked them sometimes they would be empty and set again, sometimes they wouldn’t be, a walker getting to the food before whoever was caring for the traps.

If that was the case you would dispose of the walkers and the spoiled food, and set the traps once again, using them for your own benefit as well.

You didn’t take much from whoever it was, you only took the smaller animals, leaving the bigger ones.

It wasn’t the most ideal way to live but it worked for you, and it kept you alive, and that’s what it was doing right now.

Your camp was surrounded by wooden spike in the ground acting as a wall, going out in all directions, your fire burning as you cooked the rabbit you had caught.

Your shelter was just a couple of sheets you had scavenged a while back and tied together just to keep the blistering sun, or rain off you if it rained.

Rolling up the leg to your trousers, you slowly began to unwrap the dirty bandage, getting a look at the infected wound and you sighed.

Grabbing the pot over your fire, you stretched your leg out, poured the water over it.

You didn’t know if it would help, but at least it would kill any bacteria that was trying to call your wound it’s home.

Your skin was an angry red, and you grabbed your water bottle, pouring the cold water over it to make it a little better.

Rolling your trouser leg back down, you tucked it back into your boot, and you leant against the tree behind you.

You heard noises nearby, and you hauled yourself up, grabbing the pole that you were using as a walking stick and a weapon, making your way to the edge of your camp.

You could see a man fighting a small group of walkers not far from you, and you shuffled between a few of the spikes.

Standing on the outside, you slowly made your way over, mindful not to make any noise at all.

You crept closer, and you stood behind a tree, watching from behind it, trying to figure out if he could handle them and what he was doing so close to your camp.

You watched as he was knocked over, hand on the head of a walked as he tried to grab his weapon.

You made your move, limping over you shoved the pole through the creatures skull, and pulled it out, placing your foot over the handle of his knife.

He pushed the body off, and turned his head towards you.

“You’re the one who’s been taking our food.” He said.

You said nothing, you stabbed the pole into the ground and leant down, picking up the knife and he stood up.

You studied him for a moment, getting a quick read of him and you turned the knife around, holding the blade as you held out the handle to him.

He wasn’t going to kill you, that much you could tell.

He took it.

“What’s your name?”

You turned around, slowly limped back to your camp, pushing the spikes back to where they were supposed to be so nothing else could get in.

The man followed you, and you stood watching him.

“Why did you save me?”

You said nothing, and he sighed, looking around a little unsure.

“May I?”

He gestured to your wall, and you pushed some aside to let him in before closing it again.

He didn’t show signs of leaving soon, and you couldn’t have him attracting walkers to your base, or getting killed in front of it.

You pointed to him, then a spot in front of the fire before walking around to sit on the other side of the camp away from him.

He sat where you pointed, shuffling a little to the side to get a better view of you.

Clad in camouflage trousers, black combat boots, a black shirt and leather jacket with a glove on your right hand, a bandanna around your neck, dried blood on your face.

You had clearly been out here a while.

“Thank you for helping me, and for resetting the traps. Do you have a name? I’m Rick.”

You said nothing.

“How long have you been out here for?”

Again, nothing.

“We know you’re injured, one of my friends saw you limping a week ago, you’re still limping now, have you been bitten?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Can I take a look?”

Rick went to move, only stopping when you picked up the metal pole, aiming to through it right through his head and he stopped, slowly sitting down.

“Okay, okay. I won’t come any closer if you don’t want me to. But I have a safe space, not far away, food, shelter, medicine, someone who can look at your leg for you. I just have three questions.”

With how one sided the conversation had been Rick wasn’t actually expecting you to give him any response, but he still wanted to try.

You had saved his life, that didn’t mean he trusted you, but he still wanted to repay that favour to you, but he had to protect his family first.

“How many walkers have you killed?”

You stared at him.

“How many people have you killed?”

No response.

“Why?”

You just stared at him blankly, not interested in the questions he was asking you, or giving him any answers to them.

Rick sighed, looking at the sky before looking back at you.

“At least come so we can help with your leg, you’re not going to survive much longer out here alone with it like that. There’s more and more coming here every day.”

You knew he was right, because you had noticed the increase in activity. If a horde were to come through your base wouldn’t last, it would fall.

You had made it with the idea of keeping the stragglers away, not a whole army of them.

With your leg the way it was you wouldn’t exactly be running away anywhere soon either, you’d be a sitting duck. You were a sitting duck.

But in your condition you couldn’t fight a large group of humans either, you didn’t know how many he had, or if this was a trap, so, you shook your head.

“Are you sure?”

You slowly nodded.

“Okay.”

Rick pushed himself up and backed away, making his way to your fence and you get up, limping over to move it while keeping your weapon aimed at him.

You took a few steps back and watched him leave before closing it again.

Rick glanced at you again before he left.

You thought that would be the last you saw of him, but the following day he came back with a bag, and he held it over your face, dropping it between a few of the spikes carefully.

“Just a few things, mostly for your leg, some instructions on what to do.”

You got up, making your way over you used the pole to pick it up, backing away as you brought it over.

Sitting down, you dumped the contents on the floor, searching it all throughly.

You noticed the bandages open, so you tossed them back over the spikes, along with some wrapped up food.

Rick picked them up, holding them in one hand.

“You don’t want them?”

He looked at them a little confused before it hit him after a moment.

It was because they weren’t sealed, because they were open or homemade, you didn’t trust him so of course you wouldn’t take that sort of stuff.

He set them by his feet and looked at you, and you held up a notepad.

“Well, I figured since you don’t seem comfortable maybe you could write instead, there’s a pen too.”

You looked for the pen and picked it up, flicking to the first page you scribbled a few things down, tore it out and tossed it at him.

It hit his head and fell to the floor so he picked it up, unballing it to read what you wrote.

“I uh… I don’t understand the language.”

You held out your hand and he threw it back, and you wrote again before tossing it back over.

‘Why?’

Rick glanced at you.

“Why did it bring this?”

You nodded.

“Because you need help, you won’t come to us for help, so I’ll bring the help to you. You don’t trust me, I get that, honestly I wouldn’t trust me either if I was in your shoes, but you do need some of these things.”

You blankly stared at him.

“The world is a shit storm now, I know what it’s like to be on your own in this, and it’s hard. You don’t have to come with me, I won’t make you, but the offer is there.”

You turned your attention to putting things away in the bag.

Rick sighed, picking up the things you had thrown and he left again.

When he was gone you quickly tended to your leg, using what was given to you, and you put the rest in your bag.

He kept coming back, every day for a short while to try talk you into going with him to safety, for help, and to bring you something.

He was determined, and even after a week he hadn’t given up on trying to help you out.

Looking at his empty bag, you got up, swinging it over your shoulder, grabbing your gun for your other shoulder and your metal pole, leaving your camp.

You made your way to the prison first, hiding in the grass as you looked through the scope of your gun.

They had made it into a home, you knew that, but you weren’t expecting a working farm, or children, or so many adults.

They had plenty of guards, and you scanned over the people you could see, and you saw Rick, holding a baby in his arm.

That would explain the questions he had asked you, he needed to make sure you were good, his family would be safe around you.

Putting your gun on your back, you crept back towards your camp and past it.

You knew there was a store nearby, one hidden away by a car pile up, you had been using it for your canned foods, trying to make it last as long as possible.

Making your way there, you pried the door open and walked in, swiping things from the shelves into his bag before going back.

Limping past your camp, you carried on through the forest for maybe half an hour until you found the prison again and you knelt down in the tall grass.

Setting the bag down, you grabbed your gun, looking through the scope.

You counted the people you saw, and determined the best course of action.

You had to wait until the coast was clear, so you sat there waiting, hours slipping by, not making a sound.

Then you saw your break, it must have been the changing of the lookouts, because as a man and a woman started leave one tower, the rest seemed to be heading inside.

Getting up, you made your to their gate as quickly as you could, climbing up on the fence next to it, you carefully placed the bag hanging on a bit of the higher broken fence before climbing down.

Giving the fence a little shake to see if it would stay, you left as quickly as you had come, heading back to your own camp for the night.

It was Rick that found the bag the following morning, and with a bit of struggling he managed to get it down from where you had put it.

Backing away from the fence he opened it carefully, finding it full of tinned food and two tubs of baby food, some clothes, and some toys.

He looked around, but going by how cold the bag was it had definitely been out there all night, but he knew it was you, because he left this bag with you.

You had clearly taken the time to put everything in so it would all fit.

He smiled a little, and he closed it, swinging it over his shoulder to take it inside after his rounds.

He didn’t know you were sat in the grass watching through the scope of your sniper to make sure one of them had gotten it.

When you saw him take it you had left, going back to your own camp, killing a few walkers along the way.

It wasn’t safe there anymore, and you had to find somewhere new to go

[sk3llyy]

⭐Stars n' Scars⭐

Summary: Daryl finds his love interest (y/n) in the woods, crying about her scars. Daryl has to do something about it.

Era: Prison

The twigs in the woody forest crunched underneath Daryl's big boots. He'd been walking for about 20 minutes now, since Rick had sent him to go and hunt for some food out in the nearby Forrest.

Some other branches snapped. Uncorrelated to his own feet thumping the ground. He came to a pause, loading his crossbow. He eased towards the sound, noticing you sitting at a tree next to the little river they had discovered. He was silent, observing you from a distance. You where cleaning your arms, getting rid of the blood and muck from the past few days of digging holes for the undead. But.. you where crying. Daryl stared, then narrowing his eyes down to your arms and your legs. You had rolled up your jeans to rid the grime, something you never did. He was staring for some while until he leaned his weight onto one leg, causing a twig to snap underneath him.

You snapped your head up, looking at him wide eyed. he emerged from the treeline, stepping forward, his eyes fixated on your scars. You could feel your eyes burning, tears swelling up. You yanked your trouser legs down, and stared at the floor, almost ashamed.

"hey." He said, sitting in front of her on a log that had been previously been chopped by Carl and Hershel for firewood. She looks up, still not making eye contact with the redneck.

"look at me." You moved your eyes up, meeting his. He stared even longer, getting lost in your gaze. You looked a lot like beth. Same long, blonde hair, bright blue doey eyes and an unmistakable smile. You loved bows, pink ribbons, skirts and pretty, frilly tshirts. You where the polar opposite of Beth and Maggie. Quiet, reserved, awfully awkward, and jumpy.

His hand grazed over your arm, sending sparks and butterflies through your body. You flinched away, not wanting your scars to scare him away.

"m' not gonna hurt ya, sunshine," he said softly, holding your hand. He grabbed a marker from his back pocket, one he kept to mark where to go next on the map.

He rolled up her sleeve, and started doodling stars over the scars on her forearm. She was staring at the river, and her eyes drifted to her arms.

"Daryl?.." you whispered, staring. He grunted, continuing with the doodles.

He soon finished, running his finger over the marker, noting that it's dry, then he rolls down her sleeve.

"shoulda told me you had em. Got a bunch of scars on ma chest." He says, looking down at you. "Can I draw stars on them?" He pauses.

"don't see why not." He says, peeling off his shirt and vest, giving her the pen.

"New hobby?" She asked.

"new hobby, sunshine."

[a-a-a-anon]

appreciation post for Lise Mayer!! she co-wrote The Young Ones (and The Bachelor Boys book, additional material like when they did Comic Relief, etc), which is well known. but she also wrote for other things in the alternative comedy scene like Rik Mayall and Ben Elton's comedy tour (source: BBC Breakfast Time interview)! and, something I didn't know until recently: she co-wrote/wrote for Kevin Turvey! she's not credited in his television appearances, but see below for sources.

i really loved the podcast episode she did with Alexei Sayle about TYO, you gain a lot of insight into her perspective! she also mentions misogynistic treatment like being asked to go make tea when they were doing script readings, not getting invited to a big BBC party because it was presumed she'd be Rik's plus-one, and getting groped at the BBC bar. it pissed me off on her behalf and partly prompted this post.

some specific accolades/accreditation/fun facts:

Rik crediting her with writing/conceiving the Kevin Turvey non-joke "All right, biting political satire: What do Lech Walesea and Menachem Begin have in common? They’ve both got foreign names! What do you mean it’s not funny?" (x)

Alexei Sayle in Thatcher Stole My Trousers crediting Lise with co-writing Turvey: "Lise was, like Linda for mine, a vital part of Rik’s career, co-writing both The Young Ones and Rik’s character Kevin Turvey..."

a 1987 source for Lise co-writing Turvey: "The assumption that women do not write comedy scripts was one with which Lise Mayer, co-writer of The Young Ones television series, has also had to contend. She started writing for Rik Mayall’s Kevin Turvey in the television series A Kick Up the Eighties..." (x)

Rowland Rivron (comedian who toured with The Comic Strip gang and lived with Rik and Lise) in What the f*** did I do last night?: "[Lise] also had the unenviable job of standing at the side of the stage when Rik was performing, and jotting down anything he said that was unscripted. If it got a laugh, it would be woven into the next night’s routine."

the only time i've ever seen a Rik Mayall/Ade Edmondson/Lise Mayer writing credit: for a poem called Distance which was collected in this anthology! Rik and Ade seem to have acted it out (or at least a version of it) in this 20th Century Coyote performance

Rik on Lise writing TYO: "‘She discovers different things: the comedy of embarrassment and awkwardness – she draws out the cheating and stealing that goes on in the house.’" (x) (Lise also says her "favorite comedy was always the comedy of embarrassment" in the Alexei Sayle podcast)

Rik: "... Lise Mayer wrote this great scene where I find a tampon in a handbag and it's my birthday party and I think it's a present because my character is Rick, who is such a git, he didn't know." (x)

Helen Lederer in Not That I'm Bitter, writing about being on The Young Ones: "[Lise] was known to be the brains behind it all, particularly the more surreal elements…"

she and Rik chose the bands (x)

Lise: “We’d have a table read at which point we’d discover that the script ran over an hour long, and then I’d have a sleepless night editing it.” Alexei: “You did that?” Lise: “Usually me, yeah…” (she later explains they'd present the script Monday and rehearsals were Tuesday, Wednesday-so she literally had one night to edit!) (x)

facts from the blu-ray commentary tracks:

Rick's yellow dungarees in Interesting were based off a picture of Lise in a similar pair

Lise wrote an essay about the tampon joke in Interesting so that the BBC didn't cut the scene (though they still edited it)

Paul Jackson (producer) credits Lise with arguing "you are seriously telling me that we cannot refer on television to something that happens to 50% of the population for about 30 years of their life? and we're not allowed to even refer to it" to make an executive back off about the tampon joke in a meeting

Lise came up with Neil's flowerpot covering in Nasty

Vyvyan/Vivian's name comes from Lise having lived in Vyvyan Terrace, Bristol

Lise thought of the cast switching costumes in Bambi (one of my favorite moments!!) (/end of commentary track facts)

this is guesswork, but i've seen Ben Elton and Rik Mayall's handwriting and i'm pretty sure the editing/handwriting on the bottom left on this script must be Lise's, which gives insight into what/how she wrote: (x)

i feel like it's easy for people to overlook or minimize Lise's impact, something that happens to female creators far too often. i hate when women's identities are framed around their association to a man-girlfriend to Rik in this case-which was the norm whenever i saw Lise discussed in articles/books/online discussions about TYO. it's important to know she was a writer and co-creator with her own identity and (underappreciated) contributions. The Young Ones (and Kevin Turvey, and things we don't even know she goes uncredited for) would not have been the same—or wouldn't have even existed—without her!

[denim-devil]

Reader sucking off Rick Grimes to get off a speeding ticket (pre apocalypse) 🤭 rick kinda cocky/degrading/smug cums on readers face 🙈🤭

☆ Private Eyes | R.G ☆

Summary - The streets of Cynthiana, Kentucky were usually busy, although due to frequent flow of tickets being given, a certain smug Sheriff manages to catch you slip up, not wanting a ticket you attend to your last resort…

──────. • ☆:*.☽ .* :☆ﾟ• . ───���──

The streets of Cynthiana were quiet, much quieter then usual. You found yourself, often cruising throughout the barren roads, trying everything in your power to get home as quick as possible.

Humidity surrounded both you and your car, the nights air nothing but thick and heavy, even though the sun had set hours ago it still lingered automatically forcing your foot down on the gas.

You never managed to eat at work, the stress that ran through your veins daily often had you skip lunch rather waiting until you clocked off.

The grumble in your stomach was like a brewing storm, low and loud, churning away at the emptiness your hunger clinged to. Your foot was now level with the floor, passing by the few scattered cars hastily.

It was almost out of now where when loud sirens drummed away in your ears, alerting your focus to the flashing bright fluorescent blue and red lights of the pale teal cruiser following you.

“Fuck-“

It was almost as if your hunger had taken control, not even noticing the speed that you had been going. Quickly you lift your foot, turning your wheel as you nervously tap away, slowly pulling over to the side allowing the pristine 1973 Ford F-250 to park itself in the slot behind.

Everything stilled as if the whole world knew the very outcome of your dangerous choice, if not a ticket then definitely something worse. You click your tongue, sighing to yourself before glancing into your left wing mirror.

Carefully you watch the taller, older male approach your vechile, his boots clacking against the concrete pavement.

You take in the deep muddy-like jacket that clung to his body, the pale buff coloured shirt underneath and the deep vibrant hazel of his trousers, you had managed to sus out just by the way he was dressed, how the hat sat perfectly atop of his head, how the golden badge he wore with pride glimmered underneath the dull street lights that he was in-fact the county’s sheriff.

The tapping grew heavier, much louder against the thin leather of your steering wheel, your heart beat strumming away rapidly in your ears you had almost ignored the sharp knock on the taint glass of your door.

An unsteady finger of your own presses with urgency to break the shield protecting you, coming face to face with your current consequences. The glass rolls down, disappearing from view completely, the town’s sheriff appearing attractive more so underneath the yellow lights.

With confidence, Rick unveils the hat that he wore moments ago before pressing it to his chest lightly. His cheek bones pulse knowing how much wasted time you had already caused, his teeth clamping together before he speaks.

“You even realise what speed you were going?”

The words were a mere echo within your head, bouncing back and forth from each corner, rolling over the rocky seas the sheriff’s appearance caused. You shook your head with the overconfident to not interrupt him, his pale blue eyes catching your glance.

“Well if I was certain, it was over the speed limit…can’t help but wonder why you were in such a rush?”

His accent was thick, definitely southern. His quirked up drawls and his stance already showcased the authority he held over you, even the eye contact he had managed to keep hold of had you in grasps of splurging out the truth.

“I- uh, I have no excuse really- I just clocked off of work and-“

“Can you step out of the vehicle sir?”

Instantly you could tell he had no remorse, nothing. Infact he replaced himself by taking a few steps to the side, allowing you to slowly tug on the one sided handle, unlocking the door to allow yourself out and into his space.

“Please- I can’t- mom’s gonna be pissed”

The words usher out of you as if you had been asked to ramble about your current worries. It had no affect on the sheriff, instead, once you stood fully upward in-front, he scrambles for the small notepad in his pocket which matched the brown of his attire.

“Listen kid, we both know what happened here…”

It eventually settles in as you watch the cop jot down a few things, scribbling his signature somewhere out of your focus. A wave of panic washes over you knowing a scolding was on it’s way but you somehow thought, maybe you could change the sheriff’s mind…somehow.

“Sheriff-“

He pauses before settling his arms, side by side, shoving the notepad back in his pocket.

“It’s Sheriff Grimes, Rick Grimes…”

You had seen in the paper of the newly appointed Sheriff and just how scary he could be up close although that hadn’t managed to change your mind, infact it helped you to gain the confidence you needed to plead playfully.

“Sheriff Grimes…I’d do anything to get this ticket off of my name…anything, I can’t go home with this otherwise-“

He allows a small grunt to surpass his reddened plump lips, feeling the small twitch in his briefs. He watches you closely, how your whole demeanour had changed from shy and shameful to playful and almost lewd if he hadn’t caught that lip bite.

Tilting his head to the side and disregarding his pointed hat on the hood of your car, you close in on him, the same ringing from before had crept upon you stealthily, heart beat as loud as the soft exhales you managed to let out.

Looking down he watches as you extend an arm carefully but lower, low enough that your finger tips graze the slowly growing tent between his crotch.

“What do you think your doing?”

His tone was low, half curious half stern, still trying to hold the slowly dissipating authority he held once before. He grunts when you begin to passionately grope the area, giving him a slight uncertain squeeze, looking up into his darkened eyes for approval.

He steps back momentarily, his held tilting once more in confusion and guilt but the glimmer in his eye suggested otherwise as if he to was just as curious to see where this would go.

“Ya could get into a lot of trouble wasting my time…”

You shudder, the air had gone colder as if the worry had completely left you alone, instead it was replaced by the lack of judgment and how much Rick craved the indwelling of his morals and how much he yearned for that touch.

It had been months, if that since he last had anything, anything worth time away from his busy schedule, this intrigued him, so much so he doesn’t move any further, the risk was the only thing pushing Rick further into the lustful spiral you casted.

Unexpectedly he moves back into place, back into your open palm. He felt heavier than before, filling out the rest of your hand as he settled against your passenger door. Giving him another testy squeeze, you pull back, a pale pink dusting of blush covering both cheeks.

“I- I wouldn’t want to do that…Sheriff”

He composed himself before standing up, not even bothering to ignore the growing ache his erection currently sported, closing in on you this time, he checked both left and right before turning his head bringing most of his focus back onto you.

“You wouldn’t?”

Before you could comply his lips were attacking your own, the same hunger that ate you from the inside out had engulfed Rick entirely, forgetting the risk of being caught and potentially losing his job his tongue rolled against yours, once or twice before pulling away, panting heavily.

Still you lacked the knowledge to understand that this was just to get off of a ticket, not to eagerly attach yourself to the town’s sheriff, but it proved hard when he towered over you, keeping an arm above your lowering form.

Knees hitting the cold concrete of the road, the bulge that continued to grow repeatedly gained your attention. Rick had no idea what had managed to possess him to go such limits to reward his own greed but he couldn’t let this go, not now.

“Y’gonna unzip my trousers…take me out, maybe, just maybe I’ll let you off”

You waste no time in following his instructions, finger tips tampering with the metal zipper before you pull it down, a desperate hand sinking into his confines, easily fishing for the protruding muscle.

Succeeding in your task, you eventually pull him out, fighting with the small hole that you could only pull him through. He was thick, thicker then you had seen before, the tip a dark shade of red, angry, almost as if he was seeking some sort of pleasure out of this also.

You gawk at the view, almost uncertain you couldn’t possibly except such size into your mouth. Meeting his eyes once again he manages to slide you a knowing glare.

“God Rick- how do you even- just how?”

You question before giving him a few teasing tugs, his balls full and heavy at the same time making it much more intimidating. It felt right to have him fully engrossed in your palm, Rick was a fumbling mess already, his own hand couldn’t compare to another’s, to yours.

“Fuck-“

A sense of pride ran through you in waves which inevitably pushes you to wrap your lips around his tip seductively, forcing his attention back down, watching as you slowly surpassed each inch.

“Y’gonna take it all sweetheart, no holding back now”

Anticipating the eventual moment you reach the trimmed levelling of hair, Rick’s hand grow heavier in your hair, bunching up the locks, guiding you down until your nose settled against his pubic bone, taking in the overwhelming, natural musk that spoke nothing but of Rick himself.

The officer above clutched the roof of his cruiser which slightly grounded him before allowing a subtle grunt to surpass his open lips, almost immediately he couldn’t contain his want to see how far you would go with this, how far your limits would take you.

“God you’re sweet- come on honey, show me how much you don’t want this ticket”

Resting the back of your head against his car door, you feel every ridge and vein pull away, just enough until he stood proud again before ushering most of his length back in, cramming the rest into the back of your throat.

Rick was big, to big to not worry about, you convulse, choking around the tip that claimed your awaiting throat which was now full of him and his manhood.

He smirks, almost seeking the moment you would turn into the mess he knew you can become, watching how your lips stretch into an “o” to accompany his size.

“Such a cock slut, wonder what ya daddy would think? How easy you are, how much of a slut ya are”

His mouth was vulgar which resembled the quickened pace he set, rolling his hips back and forth to force your throat to accommodate his size, to worship what he was giving. Trying your best to nod, Rick chuckled at your weak efforts, to busy using the mouth you were so willing to give to bother with his words.

The comforting presence of Rick’s hand lightly on your head had you desperately slurping him between your saliva slicked lips, each glob trickling down your chin with every roll of his hips.

“You were fuckin’ hungry for it sweetheart, look at ya, takin’ it like a champ-“

When he sped up, the noises got louder, lewd and slick which resembled your current state, tear stained cheeks and abused, puffy red lips. You sucked harder, Rick’s voice became strained as a string of profanities fell from his mouth.

“Fuckin’ close-“

He growled, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf, claiming what was his. Each twitch of his manhood followed the rest, the weight of him growing heavier by the second.

“So wet, so fuckin’ inviting- ya were made for me, a fuckin’ dream”

Each pummel of his hips, each pressing of his groin into your face had you achy and leaky between your thighs, making a mess of your jeans. He kept you still, the cool metal of his car door keeping you grounded enough to eye the man above, vision blurred by the continuous tears he created.

His cheeks were flush and his panting grew heavy, each second that passed he grew tired and sloppy, his hips rolling languidly, pressing himself impossibly deeper, triggering your gag reflex until he couldn’t go any more.

“Gonna cum, paint them pretty little features, open wide for me honey-“

Just as you were about to pull off with a pop, he yanks himself back and outwards, hands tugging on his slick cock. Once his eyes roll back and the same low groan from before slips from his chest, deeply, you stick out your tongue, collecting each streak of white liquid that shot from his bulbous tip.

“Take it all- fuck-“

Rolling your tongue back after he stilled, catching his breathe, you finally taste what he was all about, swallowing the thickness that lingered on your tongue, tangy yet sweet, almost earthy.

Pleased with his work, sea-like blues resting back onto the face he just ruined, it couldn’t get any better, his thumb traced over your bottom lip, running through the saliva-cum mix before pressing his thumb upwards into your mouth.

His cock now flaccid still covered with spit and the reminder of his finish, he uses his other hand to tuck himself away before watching you swallow what his thumb offered, pulling away, he wipes it on your shirt, retreating to his trouser pocket to fish out a yellow piece of paper.

Inside was his number, although you had no clue, the indents of numbers on the folded paper had told you enough.

“I have a feelin’ i’ll be seeing you around…”

[your-averagewriter]

"I thought they killed you."

Summary: (y/n) is isolated after the disaster on the beach but luckily she's found just in time but just the right people. (Rick Flag x reader)

Word count: 1.0K

Warnings: Blood, injury, violence, weapons, swearing, (usual Suicide Squad things)

-

-

I stumble through the forest patting the fire out on my arm, the burnt cloth scratching against my wounds. The mission wasn’t meant to go like this - I can’t believe Blackguard sold us out. Actually I can believe it because I don’t know him, barely any of us know each other which is one of our problems, you can’t just trust strangers on a suicide mission.

So far, I imagine most of the squad is dead and those that aren’t are isolated waiting to be picked off by the soldiers hunting us through the forest.

But I keep going in the hopes that someone is alive or finding anyone at this rate would be good, friend or enemy.

Holding onto the branch above I steady myself as I try to make my way down a hill but I trip falling. I can feel my stomach reeling and despite my head feeling heavier than ever I pull myself up off the ground and continue, desperately, not knowing what’s ahead. It would be nice if next time (if there is a next time) Waller would come up with a plan B or an evacuation tactic but she doesn’t care about what happens to us so I doubt she will.

Soon after I realize that I’m bleeding from my arm, a cut, not deep but not shallow either so I rip off some cloth from my dirtied trousers and tie it around the wound, making sure there’s adequate pressure. At this rate I could bleed out from my wounds before I even get anywhere.

I hear footsteps and voices, although my head is pounding so badly that I can’t hear properly and can’t bring myself to care. Maybe if it’s some soldiers they can finish me off.

Turning the corner I can barely hold myself up but I see a familiar face I certainly didn’t expect to see.

“DuBois?” I question quietly, wondering whether I’ve lost enough blood to start hallucinating. But before I can even take another step I feel my body go limp and I collapse on myself, falling to the ground. All I hear is DuBois saying my name, worriedly before I feel my consciousness leave me.

I feel my eyelids flutter open as I’m met with a pale canopy roof. My head is killing me and my mind is fogged over with confusion and questions. I look down at my body and see all my wounds have been properly dressed and some stitched up. My skin is still dirty along with my clothes but all traces of my blood have been removed. I question why I’m here but that’s when I remember what happened before I must have passed out.

“DuBois?” I say again, quietly as I sit up. I instantly regret it as all the blood rushes to my head and I feel myself becoming faint again but it passes after a few moments.

Looking around the room, there are a couple of wooden chairs and the floor is planked - I can see through the slither of the entrance to the canopy that we’re still in a forest.

Suddenly I hear footsteps from outside the canopy and I instantly reach for my weapons but they’ve been removed so I look for the closest, best option which ends up being a syringe - it hasn’t got any liquid in it but any object in my hand becomes a weapon. I realize my shoes have been removed as I place my bare feet onto the planks, it takes me a second to stand up but after, I manage to limp quietly to the entrance.

My back is pressed up against the fabric of the canopy as I await the impending footsteps, ready with the syringe in hand.

Someone pushes the fabric aside and walks in but as soon as they do I throw my arm around their neck, effectively choking them and placing the needle so it presses against the skin of their neck, not quite piercing it but could easily be if needed.

They don’t struggle and I notice by their uniform that they’re not a civilian but whether they’re friend or foe remains unknown.

Another figure walks in behind the uniformed stranger.

Rick Flag.

My face is a painting of confusion as I look at him and then to the stranger. He walks slowly towards me.

“(y/n).” He says gently. “Put the needle down.” He says again in a soft tone as he walks towards me, hands reaching for mine. “You’re okay.”

“Rick?” I question, not entirely sure he’s there or why. “What are you-What are you doing here? I thought you…” Tears start to brim my eyes as I look at him. “I thought they killed you.” I say, my voice wavering, unable to stop the trembling.

“Put the needle down.” He’commands’ but it’s still gentle. I lower the needle slowly and release the person from my grip. Dropping the needle to the ground, Rick immediately wraps me in his arms.

“You’re okay, you’re safe here.” He reassures me, his hand stroking the back of my head as I bury my face in his chest.

“I don’t understand, I saw them, they had you!” I say. “I saw it with my own eyes!” I exclaim, tears flowing from my eyes now. “I tried to help you but they- they.”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter now. I escaped, you escaped. That’s all that matters.”

“And DuBois? I saw him! I swear.” 

“He brought you back here, he said you fainted just after he saw you. You were hurt pretty badly.”

“Why is DuBois here?” I ask and all the confusion is only making my head hurt more.

“Waller went behind our backs and set up a second team. We were a distraction.”

“A distraction? Fucking brilliant.” I mumble, shocked but not surprised at Waller’s actions. “We were sent to die?” He sighs but nods.

“I’m just glad you’re alive.”

“Waller can’t get rid of me that easily.” I say with a small smirk and I can tell that he’s glad I’ve kept my humour throughout this shit show.

-

AN: First piece of writing I've done in a while!

I've been doing exams and working so I haven't posted much but I've finished my exams now so you can expect me to post more (hopefully more Suicide Squad content because I LOVE the movies).

Hope you enjoyed reading and requests are open!

[bluekidchaos]

Kinktober day 6 - Rick Grimes & Daryl Dixon

can't believe i've gotten halfway through these wow

Pairing: Rick Grimes x fem!reader x Daryl Dixon

Prompt: Threesome

Warnings: 18+, idk really know, degradation, oral (m receiving), fingering, rough sex

Words: 1k

Can also be read on AO3!

Kinktober masterlist. Regular masterlist.

You find yourself sandwiched between the two men, Rick is behind you, firm grip on your hips and kissing along your neck. Daryl is in front of you, his fingers slipping below the seam of your panties.

They had already stripped you of most of your clothes the second they had you in private. Almost throwing themselves at you.

His fingers slid over your opening, gathering the wetness there before slipping inside you. Your head falls back onto Rick's shoulder as you let out a moan.

"Feel good, pretty girl?" You don't know which one of them said it but you nodded, no words being able to escape your mouth at the moment.

Daryl's fingers were thrusting at a leisurely pace. The pad of his thumb started rolling over your clit. "Gotta get ya all nice an' wet for us, sunshine." Punctuating his words with a sweet kiss to your temple.

Rick was working on covering your neck in as many bruises and hickeys as he could while roughly groping at your tits, twisting your nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

This was a regular dynamic between them, Rick was rough and fast while Daryl was calm and sweet. It sometimes gave you whiplash but you loved it, loved them. The contrast, the ways they differ from each other.

You felt your stomach tighten, the muscles in your thighs spasmed as you came all over Daryl's fingers. You surely would've collapsed if it were not for the two men holding you up.

Daryl slipped his fingers from your warmth and into his mouth. Moaning at the taste of you.

"Alright, sweetheart? You ready for our cocks now?" Rick whispered into your ear, making shivers run down your spine as he guided you back to the bed and pushed you down so you were lying on your back.

Both of them were looking down on you, Daryl was palming his dick through his trousers while Rick was undressing.

The older man crawled over you, kissing up your stomach as he went. He hooks his thumbs into your panties and pulls them off you.

Daryl had also undressed at this point and he came around to kneel by your head, dick in hand. "Get on your hands and knees, baby."

Rick moved back so you could re-adjust yourself, getting on all fours as Daryl sat against the headboard in front of you stroking himself to the look of you.

You felt giddy as you felt Rick take his place behind you, dragging his tip through your folds, teasing the slit, and using your own wetness to lube himself up. "Rick.. don't tease me.." You pouted back at him and he chuckled.

Daryl treaded his fingers in your hair, petting you almost as Rick pushed into you slowly. Letting himself and you feel the stretch and how you clench around him. Feeling how tight you are and how big he was inside you. "Fuck, sweetie. Always so tight, no matter how many times you take us."

As Rick started pounding into you, setting a fast pace and making sure to angle your hips so he could get deep inside you, Daryl took hold of your chin with his free hand and pulled you close to his cock.

You took the hint and while trying to keep steady on your arms you kitten licked at his tip, making him give out a whimper and make a fist in your hair, pulling you down further on his dick.

Closing your mouth around his tip you started trying to take more of him, Rick's pace made it hard to keep a steady rhythm. An especially hard thrust made you shoot forward and you gagged as Daryl's cock hit the back of your throat. "Oh, fuck! Do that again Rick, she got real deep on my cock."

Rick thrusts into you again and again, making sure your body jolts forward with every move. Daryl was tugging on your hair at the same time, moving your head.

You felt yourself gush around Rick's cock as they basically treated you like a sex toy. Moving you the way they wanted you. You moaned around Daryl's dick, sending vibrations through him and up his spine.

Rick could feel you become wetter with their treatment and with a mocking voice he leaned over you, getting as close to your ear and whispered, "Awe, is princess getting wet being treated like a whore? You like it when we use you like our personal cock-sleeve?"

He had brought a hand under you and was rubbing at your clit at a similar pace. Making you mewl and whine, your hips bucking and fucking back into him as you choked on Daryl's cock. You barely had time to register your muscles tensing as you came hard on Rick.

"Ah, shit, sweetie. You just love it when we fuck you like this, huh." Your thighs were slick with your juices as Rick fucked you through your orgasm, your body was shaking and you knew you'd collapse if they weren't there.

The display of your orgasm tipped Daryl over the edge too, pulling out as he jerked off and spilled his seed into his hand, some of it spurting onto your cheek. You sighed with relief as you could breathe properly again and dropped your head down to rest against Daryl's thigh.

Rick was fucking your even more intensely now, your hips at a higher angle getting him even deeper in your gut. "Oh, ah fuck Rick! Shit, I'm gonna- ahh." You felt your third orgasm of the night flushing over you.

Rick's pace stuttered and he cursed and groaned behind you as he thrust in one, two more times before you felt him fill you up. Pulling out quickly to watch as his seed dripped out of you with the motion of your clenching walls.

He chuckled a little behind you, slapping one side of your ass as he flopped down beside you and Daryl. "That was fucking amazing, princess."

Daryl was holding you firmly in his grasp, hand stroking your back and head. Helping you come down from your high.

You hummed at him and he leaned down to plant a big kiss on your head. "Imma go get a washcloth so we can clean you off and then go to bed. How's that sound?"

"Very good. I love you guys." Your voice came out in a rasp.

Rick gave you his usual charming smile as he hopped off the bed. "We love you too, baby."

[geetimesthree]

This is the final cover I've done this year for Oni Press. The editors let me do any concept I wanted so straight away I was like: "Birding man! Festival! Rick in glittery pink trousers!"

Rick and Morty #9 with interiors written by @alexfirer, drawn by Fred C. Stresing, colours by Andrew Dalhouse and lettering by Crank!

On sale September 27th, 2023

Detail:

[kavat]

If you could design Dan and Phil’s TIT fits what would you put them in 👀

Oh excellent question anon.

I would put Phil in the exact outfit he had in the trailer and promo pics. The leather trousers, the silver jacket, the blue shoes. 10/10 no notes.

Dan however needs some proper trousers. Someone burn all of his too short joggers, please. No more pantaloons.

We know he likes Rick Owens and unconventional zips, so how about these funky flared ones. Pair that with this Jil Sander top, those big stompy boots he has and a dangly silver earring and we have a winner.

[conanssummerchild]

some of the most common prickcest fics i feel like are precanon fics of like young rick from when he was still with diane (theres a lot of young ricks, what are we calling him? wife guy?) and he's cheating on her with prime before he even offers him a portal gun, and i believe ive also seen a few people analysing this scenario, like what if rick actually did know prime before that meeting we see in the show, so i want to add to that by saying that what if that actually happened and yknow how rick reveals to beth in bethic twinstinct that he's also been with other versions of himself, what if beth and space beth reminded him of him and prime and how he was cheating on diane and then he lost her forever at the hands of the man he was having an affair with (at his own hands) :3 and also lost his beth

which is why rick said "remember, its not just your ice cream you're forgetting, it's your family's" or smth. because he forgot his familys ice cream too much, and then he lost them (not that im saying he thinks space beth would do that but also, we dont know.)

space beth and prime are shown as kind of the edgier versions of beth and rick, prime and space beth even have similar sci-fi-ish outfits maroon-ish undershirt, diagonal hanging belt thing, streak in hair, dark leggings/trousers with some kind of leg cuff or something?

ok yeah, thats it really, im only saying this bcs i feel like it could have great angst potential for like rick remembering how he did the same and it went so much worse. maybe even showing another step that pushed him back into his rick prime relapse

(the first being of course solaricks, where he revisits his original dimension, stuck in the day he lost diane and beth, and then comes close to getting prime in that base thing place, then in bethic twinstinct he maybe sees everything i've just said in this post and he feels it pushing him deeper into going back to it, all the bad memories of when he and prime did the same as beth², wanting to avenge diane yk, that stuff, and then in analyse piss we already knew he sympathised with pissmaster because he related to him, he saw himself in him and stuff, well what if that also pushed him into isolation, bcs the worse he felt the more he was willing to destroy himself again, and then ofc in a rick in king morturs mort, when he thinks morty doesnt care abt him its like the final drop that overflows the cup (is that an expression in english? who cares, you get what i mean) like what if its a gradual build up)

anyway this post is getting away from me, but yeah um idk, rick has a lot of trauma is the point. he blames himself for dianes death we already know that but what if in part its bcs he was screwing prime. make that old man suffer :3