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show-us-kaidenshenandoah · 2 months

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ill eventually make a proper, pretty intro-post

but hello, hi, i am Kaiden-Shenandoah Knapp

also, yes, Kaiden-Shenandoah is my first name. the hyphen is optional, but you still have to type/say the whole thing. no, you may not call me "Kaiden". yes, i am aware it is a mouthful lol

(probably gonna change my surname is "Knapping" in a few years. i wanna distance myself from some shitty family while making the Indigeneity in my surname more apparent. dont be surprised when that happens. im just putting it off bc i got a lot on my plate rn lol)

(also if you knew me as "Kayleen", hi, hello, i no longer go by that childhood nickname. it is retired, wave goodbye, better to have loved and lost and all that)

this is my messily mindless "welcome to my head" blog, we do things very casually here. im making it my new Main (as of 24 March 2024). my professional/art blog is @kaidenshenandoahknapp

but the real point of this post is: i am not a bot lol

and also, stuff is on a queue (until i do a mass-reblog binge but, typically, i am on queue)

everything in my queue is now 2 post per 24 hours (as of: 20 April 2024)

ive been on tumblr before, but since this is a new Main, im just going through my favorite content-creation blogs i know and mass-queueing loads of the op's projects. (if you are one of those said blogs and find this nth new notes a day from me annoying, please let me know; and i will just spam them all to Post Now so i can get out of your hair asap) i'm also just not good at regularly keeping up with creators' new stuff week-by-week, so instead i generally mass-queue because i assume mass-reblogging is a bit more overwhelming, idk, maybe im just overthinking lol

tags guide: (mostly for me, ngl lol i need reminders of what i tag what when i do my mass-queues)

#me - me posting something

#relatable - "omg that is so me" at someone else's post

#aesthetic - me just really liking the vibes, which sometimes just also happens to be pretty to look at lmao

#canines wolves and werewolves i love - i know what i am about. ill probably have more "niche My Special Interest tags" as i find posts that fit them

#nutty nutcrackers / #the nutcracker - another Special Interest tag. pretty self-explanatory, i like The Nutcracker a lot lmao

#betty boop - you would think this belongs with fandom tags, but no. part of why i am obsessed with her (and have been since i was, like, 14) is because she was the popularization of the very next tag's trend

#infantalization in animation - it's when you apply baby facial proportions to an adult bodied character, it's most often done in female characters. i'll be using this tag outside of animated stuff btw. but yeah, anything that examines that visual design choice i am all 👀 over lmao

#other people's art - any individual person, not counting final version of studio work (like ill tag "Lilo and Stitch"'s exploratory concept art with this, sure, but i wont tag stills of the "Lilo and Stitch" film)

↳ #animal art

↳ #background art

↳ #oc art - is all "my original character in a canon piece" kind of ocs, not the "my original character in my original story" type

↳ there are also specifically listed artists here and there if they have influenced me/my style in the past or recently (such as but not limited to: #rvsa). almost all of them are indies with social media (aka: no Van Gogh, no Hayao Miyazaki. if they have their own fandom, i tag said fandom and not the specific artist, usually. it depends. there are some gray areas)

#brushes - the (digital) brushes people i like use

#art tips

#writing tips - is about actually doing the practice

#on writing - is the philsophy about the practice

#[insert fandom here]

#[insert fandom here] analysis

(here are the tags i chose for some fandoms that had multiple possible tags. this is not all of my fandom tags)

● #studio ghibli, #[insert studio ghibli title here] (i tag both the movie itself and studio. because sometimes i want something from the original movie, so i go into those tags; and i also go to the studio to look at overarching things since the studio has such a strong overall aesthetic/visual brand)

● #[insert disney title] (here, i do tag the specific movies and i dont just use the studio. because im usually looking for specific things this one disney movie has)

● #moomin (as opposed to "moominvalley", "tales of moominvalley", or the like)

● #my hero academia (so many different options for one work)

● #trigun (so many different branching creations from one source lmao im just gonna lump them together)

● #into the spiderverse (i dont use "across the spiderverse" for simplicity's sake, and i don't use the hyphen/space between "spider(-)verse" also for simplicity. its easier for me to be consistent if i just go "nah, its all one word")

● #marvel comics (i do not tag the mcu specifically)

● #dc comics, #batman (i tag both. but i dont tag any other dc comics property. i just know im esp obsessed with the batfam enough that, sure, they should get their own tag)

#me

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beaversatemygrandma · 9 months

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Many things here. There may be a life change. Idk when, but holy hell is it coming. It may be good.

Alright, so. The guy I've been talking to for a good while now. Basically a long distance relationship. Basically suddenly realizing I could have feelings for the guy who had a crush on me in high school. And the only one who was respectful about it and nowhere near annoying enough that I just try to get away from him immediately. He's soft. He's sweet. He did it the right way by connecting with me as a friend and getting into the things I was into. He did it RIGHT. Didn't just go in with intention of flirting and getting somewhere and failing because I literally had a boyfriend and Would Say That. But yeah. Him. The one who did it right back then but I was basically too shallow to really get into the idea that my type is a soft and sweet nerdy type. (Didn't want to be "The Nerd" back then, but honestly, tf was wrong with me?)

Anyways. Feels serious. Especially when there's straight up talk of moving in together. Like my mom is an agent of chaos and wants to quit her job without notice and go up to another state for a good couple weeks (I haven't got a call? Is she even going home??) and she was all "I'm selling the house NOW. Can't stand this place. We're getting a small house in TN and you're coming with me." And I'm just here like "???? I wanted to go HOME??? That's not HOME???" Well, I'm hoping she doesn't outright buy some random house within the next six months. Or at least has a good while of just being back home for a bit so I can get my bearing straight in town. BECAUSE this guy managed to get a one bedroom apartment. Sure sure, it's literally connected to his mom's house which is a huge repurposed warehouse in the middle of nowhere outside of town. BUT AN APARTMENT. FOR CHEAP. LIKE HUNDRED BUCKS A MONTH CHEAP. He keeps telling me how he wants me to have a landing pad if my mom decides to just leave my sister alone in the state at college. And me one so i can finally be back in a place I know with people I Know. AND THEN if my sister ends up needing a couch to crash on for a bit, she's got one. Hell, it's got the space to set up an air mattress in the living room. He showed me a walkthrough over a video call earlier. Like he's genuine about wanting me there.

So, what I'm hoping is that I can still have a proper landing pad with my mom. THEN making sure I can handle being with him for 24 hours straight in person. THEN meeting his family, seeing if his mom would allow that. (she seems open to having me over often. That's already been brought up. Hell, this is the woman who he told her about me and she flat out told him to marry me. I mean fuck. That's supportive.) And then, yeah, breaking it to my mom that i don't want to uproot myself and live in a new town out in the middle of nowhere. But instead out in the middle of nowhere about 10 miles from my hometown. I'm GREAT with that. I love those backroads out there and it's nowhere near the hellish areas of that town that are just Packed with tourist. Nah, these are the weird uncharted woods off the highway. I'm IN. There's a BALCONY. And a firepit out in the yard. It's down a dirt road in the woods. Very Green. Very close to nature. Other than the fact that he's got to clean out the entirety of the mess his sister left behind before she finished her "stepdad hunting" for her kid, it's right there and ready. It's a lot of sifting through literal garbage and ditched items. And deep cleaning. The place is wrecked. She did not leave that in a way that's livable.

Either way, it sounds great. I do think that I can deal with his shit for a long period of time. He's got that flirting type that's being purposely annoying. I do the same fucking thing. Literally not even a con here. The only thing i find annoying is when he'll overthink something and anxiously backtrack on it. So I have to tell him that he literally didn't make a mistake there and he's fine. Especially when he can't read my sarcastic annoyance over a phone call. Would probably be different in person tbh. Idk, I think I could genuinely date him. and live with him. He's a little childish at times but it's kind of charming. And I also can't say shit there with living in a pile of plushies at the tender age of 24. Can't say shit about him collecting lego sets lol I think I could do all that and not hate him after a year like my last roommate. He's very organized and kinda meticulous. Like, he'd be clean and easy to deal with in that sense. Ntm, if I'm this into him just talking to him this much. Shit, I'm already in deep, might as well.

And THEN. Because of his mom sending him referrals for a certain site, we know have income doing online work. Yeah, it took for fucking ever to get through these assessments and then hasn't paid the promised $50 for passing it yet after a week. And then having an issue where they saw my score and put me in a project that REQUIRED a DEGREE that I DON'T have. Like, thanks for telling me that I'm smart enough to be a college graduate I guess. But after that whole issue, i was booted from the project within 24 hours and today I got an email telling me my new one. So I fucked around for about 2 and a half hours. The training was literally like 15 minutes of reading. It's cut and dry and simple. And I was already doing the little tasks. Within that time I earned over $20. Just that already paid more than my job at Panera. Came to about 10 and some change an hour and that was just because I was getting used to the tasks themselves. So I could probably do more an hour than I was. Those things take maybe 10-15 minutes each and payout around $3 each. Paired with my quick typing, I might be able to make a living wage on this. At least enough money to essentially let me live on my own money until I'm there. And likely keep me up while I'm there. I might actually be fine. I might just have a plan going. I think I'll be okay. And it's actually thanks to this guy. All of it really.

#taks speaks #btw if anyone is interested i do have referral links to a good task site #it takes some time to get into but basically after making a certain amount on it we both get $150 which is great #mutuals/followers DM me if you're looking for some mindless online job #i'll tell you what i know #well not mindless. it does require a entry college level grasp on english and grammar

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napitali · 2 years

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Kids are naturally designed for you to question youself in the matters of philosophy and meaning of mundanity.

So let me tell you a story

My little cousin was staying with me for the holidays and obviously I couldn't babysat her all the time, not to mention I'm not the best with kids, which unfortunately doesn't stop them from liking me for some reason- but that's besides the point.

Since she wasn't leaving my side from the morning to the night and I didn't want to stay up for another whole 24 hours to get some work done, I used the ultimate, revolutionary babysitting technique called "Yes, You Can Download Some Games On My Phone"

Let me tell you, it works remarkably well.

She's got my phone and I've taken my laptop - all is good. But you see, she's that kind of kid who loves to bury you under a pile of questions, so of course she eventually asks what I'm doing.

What I was doing, in fact, was writing a chapter for Calm After the Storm.

Don't get me wrong, normally I would, although awkwardly, start to ramble with all the love and affection this story is always getting from me, but at that time even my nerdy brain figured that excitedly talking about murder to a 6-year-old wouldn't be the greatest idea of mine.

So I go with "Just writing"

And bless her soul she asks "To whom?" instead of "about what?"

At that I, in a purely socially inept fashion, start overthinking and second guessing my life choices, because that's just my thing. I couldn't answer with "my readers". First of, it souned as if I was so full of myself when I rolled it around in my head lol; second - she assumed I was texting and if I've went with that answer she could view it as if I was some legitimate author and kids don't see those often (at least I haven't). Futher questioning would be inescapable and I was really not looking forward to having to say "I write books for adults".

My aunts and their romantic novel loving hearts would eat me alive.

"A friend" wasn't right as well. She would simply hit me with "Your boyfriend?". I would know, because for some reason, little girls these days are obsessed with boyfriends. Don't ask me why; at her age I was searching for a husband for my barbie not myself! But I digress. Anyway, being mocked for my single status by some little shit wasn't on my to-do-list either.

Sure, I could lie and say "It's an important business e-mail I need a vast levels of concentration and undisturbed attention for", but seriously? I can scam responsible adults, but little girls? What am I, a supervillain?

That's how my thought process had become dumb enough to consider "to myself" an excellent answer.

Curiously, my cousin didn't view it as such and went with "how does that even work!?" in the most scandalised voice I've ever heard. Lmao, it was hilarious. So I've teased her a little and we've gone back to our things.

But then she totally nuked me with a petulant "What's fun about writing to yourself?"

And I don't even know what my answer was because my whole head was like:

That's so deep!

Like, my inner philosopher has woken up from slumber and went You. Shall. Not. Pass. on the electrical signals stuck on my brain highway.

While now, I partially write for my readers - because, duh! when you share your stories you can't escape that mindset even if it's just a bit - it started by writing just because. In CAtS case I was writing it for a full year before posting it. I wasn't even considering it before. It happened only because I knew I had the tendency to eventually throw away the things I write and since I've fallen in love with that one I decided that "nah, I won't let you perish".

And now that I think about it, there's something freeing in writing? In my case it's something in the shape of Catharsis perhaps. I don't write my own feelings, my ideals or my own experiences (usually at least), but I always feel better afterwards.

It's like the expressionism but you don't express yourself. You go full analysis mode without even trying.

The next thing is the beauty of what you can come up with. That unexpected creativity, making something thrilling from the scratch and just looking at it blossom into a full-blown story, a whole plot that keeps even you - the author, awake at night. That unknown of "what will I fuck up this time?"

It's great because you can take your time to just sit and notice how great you are. How amazing your thinking is. And it sounds like I'm boosting my ego, which - okay, fair. But seriously, I suck at thinking in a day-to-day life, exactly when it matters, so having the comfort of knowing that "Hey, you. Yes, you. You came up with that. That blast of the story was written by you. This shit's your creation" is something I never knew I needed, but am glad I have it

#rambles #writing #life stories #among other things I'm too lazy to tag #oh!#kids are enlightning #can't forget about that one

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delicrieux · 3 years

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 24: OH...HI

after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k

author’s note: we did it joe.

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on.

Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish.

She is not impressed.

“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”

Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy.

“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.

“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”

“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”

And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands).

So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding.

“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.

“That implies that I’m always tactless.”

“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”

“And I can!”

“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”

...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”

Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”

“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”

She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”

“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”

“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”

“I’m not nervous!”

“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”

You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.”

And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all.

Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t.

You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.

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[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]

The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world.

A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.

The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.

You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about.

“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.

His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.

Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease.

You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do.

You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.

He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind.

You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.

He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.

Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”

He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.

Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!

“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.”

Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.

“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”

“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”

“...Touche.”

Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused.

So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.

You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”

Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.

After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves.

“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”

He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”

“Side hoe, then-”

“-No.”

You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop.

The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.

“But I’d be a worm.”

“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”

“But you’d be human.”

He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”

“Those are the rules.”

“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”

“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”

Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.

“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.

“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”

“Sure.”

You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening.

Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”

“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”

“...Fuck you.”

“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”

His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”

Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse social media au #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #fluff #wtf i have never been this soft no one hmu

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cynettic · 3 years

Note

Hii,I’d like to request a fanfic about kaeya and venti(seperate) comforting a gn!reader after losing their pet

Summary - Venti and Kaeya comfort you after the loss of your pet.

Pairings - Reader x Venti / Kaeya

Warnings - Pet angst

Penpal - Sorry for getting to you late! If you did by chance lose a pet like that I’m so sorry to hear that- I tried to make it extra comforting for that case. If not and I’m just overthinking it- I hope you enjoy it either way :)

A/N - Ahhhh- I havent posted in so long ;-; sorry sorry, been stuck with 40-50 hours of work this entire week, and when I get home I just grind Inazuma. I havent even caught up to the archon quest, just exploring lol

Comfort after Losing a Pet

Venti

Venti has lived for a very long time, and even with his cheerful chatter and harmless jokes, he’s gained a strong sense of wisdom from these years. He has no doubt attached himself to people throughout these years and lost them, but instead of feeling sad for them, I feel like Venti would keep them close to his heart instead.

He’d urge you to do the same.

Things like these take time, taking in the death of someone important to you is not easy, he understands that.

Venti can be incredibly patient, even though it might be hard for him to put himself exactly in your shoes, he will wait alongside you.

Unless it’s a cat.

He’s allergic to those little fuckers- and even if he doesn’t share a particular hatred towards them…

Jk jk he’ll comfort you and mourn your pet with you either way, he just wants to see you smile again.

What Venti could best give you is words and time, he doesn’t really have much archon duties so he’ll spend the day doing things with you. He’ll even skip a few nights at the bar just to cuddle with you and make you feel safe and like you have someone to rely on.

As for words, we all know Venti is a smooth talker- who’s to say he isn’t good at soothing someone either?

He probably won’t be as touchy as Kaeya will, and will rely on the things he can do to cheer you up. Playing his lyre, telling you jokes, and just being by you.

_-_-_-_

"People and animals come and go, I know for sure that -pet name- loved you dearly Y/n. And even if they can’t be here with you," Venti pressed a loving kiss to your chest right where your heart was. "They’ll always be right here with you.”

_-_-_-_

“They’re gone.”

You slowly sank to your knees, lips pressed firmly shut as you tried to blink away the tears. Shock coursed your body as you tried to understand just what had happened. But every time you thought about it, your heart thud a bit too loudly against your chest, and suddenly you wanted to cry all over again.

Venti, who was right beside you didn’t know what to do. His hands were outstretched to bring you into his arms, but he was unsure of whether it was the contact you need at the moment.

He decided to simply rest his hand on your back.

The two of you had just been on your way back home after having to put your pet down, something you’d been trying to delay, but knew you had to with their age and actions. Venti had stood with you through it all, but you hadn’t shed a tear back then.

But the shock gradually faded away, and you were a sobbing mess.

Venti rubbed his hand on your back, whispering soft promises and loving words into your ear. It hurt him to see you like this, and even if he was close and had known your pet well, it didnt affect him nearly as much as it did you. However, when you continued to sit crouched on the floor, he knew he needed to take action.

Slowly, he lifted you to your feet, opening the door to your home and slowly helping you inside. Tears continued to trickle down your face as he walked you over to your bedroom, a firm grip on your arm so you wouldnt fall. His thumb gently brushed the skin of your arm, a contact that reminded you he was there.

He gently sat you on the bed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Y/n,” he began gingerly, already taking off your boots and unnecessary accessories. “Take a deep breath in.”

You did just that, but another sob broke past your lips and suddenly you were wiping them away.

“No no,” he took your hands in his, your wrists encased in his gentle grip. “I’m not asking you to stop crying… I just want you to clear your head a little.” His gaze was soft as he looked up at you from his crouched position. “Being sad over this is completely normal, I’ll be with you through it all.”

He slowly brought your fingertips to his lips, pressing a featherlike kiss to each of them. So soft that by the time he’d finished, you’d stopped crying. His touch made you feel warm, a bright reminder that he was here with you, that you wouldnt be alone during this.

“(Pet Name) loved you Y/n. I want you to know that they were happy till the end, happy with you. I know you need to grieve, but don’t ever think that you’ll have to do it alone.”

Kaeya

Kaeya may not as lived as much as Venti, but he has certainly gone through enough to understand handling a loss. He’s lost a great amount of family, and has lost his relationship with his brother. He probably hasnt had a pet before, but knows the importance they hold.

He probably got to know your pet too, formed memories and came to love them as well.

It wont hit him as hard though .

Kaeya will also be patient with you, theres no rush to heal over what happened or finish your grievances. Expect him to be there with you for the majority of the time, he might ask for a couple of days just to stay with you.

But Kaeya still needs to work, hence time not being one of the main providers he can give you. Instead, he would wrap you in his arms and wouldnt let go. Physical contact and giving are what he’s gonna be doing.

You feel hungry for eggs and bacon? Chef Kaeya to the rescue-

Tbh I dont even know if he can cook.

Like Venti, he will remind you constantly that he’s there. Because he knows that its exactly what he needed back when Crepus died. He’ll remind you through his words, actions, and contact.

24/7 Cuddle buddy.

He most definitely calls you nicknames all the time, but the names before the death of your pet might have been more like, babe, doll, honey. He might’ve switched to love, dear, dearest, stuff like that for a little.

Idk- but ‘Your pet loved you doll,’ doesnt sound as nice as, ‘Your pet loved you dear.

_-_-_-_

“We made so many memories with them,” he whispered into your ear, arms around you. “You were always there with them, loved and took care of them, I know they loved and appreciated you for it.”

_-_-_-_

“I’m fine Kaeya,” you mumbled as he held the cup of tea to your lips. Your hands could easily grasp the sides, but for some odd reasons he insisted on being the one to do everything for you. You knew it was partly because he’d have to start going back to work soon, and he just wanted you to feel comfortable.

“I know,” he simply said, a smile playing at his lips. “But I want to spoil you with love, just take it.”

You felt your throat go dry and your chest thud painfully, something you’d gotten used to since yesterday. The loss of your pet struck hard, but you found it all the more bearable with Kaeya, who stood alongside you through it all.

Finishing the tea, he climbed into bed with you, hand coming to pull you close to his chest. His fingers slowly brushed the skin of your back, soothing patterns that would send you to sleep right away. But instead, you nuzzled your head deeper into his chest.

“I miss them,” you spoke softly.

Kaeya didnt stop with the motions on your back, but instead drifted his other hand to the back of your head. He brushed his fingers through your locks, lowering how own head down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I know you do,” was what he said in a whisper. “Theres nothing wrong with it either, you will miss them for an eternity.” He spoke from experience, but was never harsh with his words as if he expected you to know. “But eventually, you will solely remember those good memories with (Pet name). Those are the only ones that matter, because you made them happy, and they made you happy.”

The deep breath you took in was painful.

But he was right, you knew well that their memories and your yearning for them would turn into a past adoration. You would never forget them, but you’d come to accept their loss and always remember them in a happy light.

“Thank you,” you mumbled softly to the boy, wrapping your hands around his waist. “You always know what to say and do… thank your for being here for me.”

“I will always be here for you,” was his answer.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin hc #genshin headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin oneshot #genshin fanfic #genshin kaeya #genshin venti #kaeya x reader #venti x reader #kaeya fluff #venti fluff #cynshealthysfw

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allthingsfangirl101 · 3 years

Text

Soulmate Tattoos–Zac Efron

Your Soulmate Tattoo is your soulmate's first words to you. For girls, their tattoo is on the underside of their left wrist. For boys, their tattoo is on the underside of their right wrist. The year before you meet your soulmate, your tattoo begins to appear. There is no ink, no colors, and no words. Instead, there is a red splotch where the tattoo will appear on the exact day the following year.

The month that you are going to meet your soulmate, your red splotch becomes more defined. It begins to softly outline the edges. Seven days before you meet them, the words slowly start to form. The day before you meet your soulmate, the words finally appear in brown. That brown doesn't change to black until you're standing right in front of your soulmate and they have spoken the words to you.

My tattoo didn't start to appear until the summer after my third year of teaching. The minute the red splotch appeared, I couldn't stop glancing at it. That next year was horrible. I made note of the day, hoping it would help with the nerves, but it only made them worse.

When it got to the week I would meet him, I constantly rubbed the outline of my tattoo. And the second the words appeared on my arm the day before, I memorized them.

I'm so sorry, beautiful. I hope I didn't spill my coffee on you and ruin your nice dress.

I bit my lip when I first read his words. I couldn't help but start to imagine what he might be like. I spent the entire day thinking about him and our first interaction.

He's going to call me beautiful. He's going to spill or almost spill his coffee on me at a coffee shop. And I'm wearing a dress.

I woke up that morning, fighting the urge to go to the coffee shop right away. They don't tell us what time we meet our soulmate. I didn't want to sit in a coffee shop all day, waiting for him to show up. But I didn't want to miss him either.

Instead of overthinking this, I got ready at my normal pace. I took my shower, got dressed (making sure to wear my favorite sundress), curled my hair, and did a little more makeup than I normally wear.

There were positives and negatives to knowing the day you meet your soulmate. You can make sure you look nice, but it also leads to a lot of overthinking and anxiety.

I headed to the coffee shop, my hands shaking as I walked in. I got in line, nervously playing with my dress as I waited.

I gasped when I felt the burning. I looked down to see my tattoo changing color. My heart started beating really fast when I noticed the color was turning darker. Which means. . .

I was brought away from my tattoo when the guy who was in front of me turned around and bumped into me.

"I'm so sorry, beautiful," the guy said, his voice light and soft. "I hope I didn't spill my coffee on you and ruin your nice dress."

I could hear my blood pumping when I noticed the words this man just said were the words I'd spent the last 24 hours staring at. I looked up, my eyes widening when I saw who said the words on my arm.

This can't be right. There is no way this is my soulmate. I'm a high school history teacher. And he's. . .

My soulmate cannot be Zac Efron.

"It's alright," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "No harm, no foul."

Suddenly, he sucked in a breath. He slowly looked down at his wrist and let out a small chuckle. He looked up at me, his eyes filling with tears.

When his eyes drifted down to my left wrist, I rolled it so he could see it. He laughed and reached over, grabbing my left hand in his as he read the words on my wrist. I bit my lip when he intertwined our fingers, slowly looking up at me. I glanced down at our hands, our tattoos almost touching.

"Can I buy you some coffee?" He asked, his voice low. I hesitated, a small part of me thinking this was a weird twisted joke.

"I guess we should," I whispered.

Without letting go of my hand, Zac led me to the counter. I ordered my usual latte, my whole arm burning from his touch. I went to pay for my drink, but Zac paid for it before I could even get my wallet out of my bag.

Zac led me over to a booth in the corner, our hands never disconnecting. He politely waited for me to sit down first before taking a seat across from me, finally letting go of my hand.

All I could think was; no way. There is no way that Zac Efron is my soulmate. And how is he so relaxed about meeting his soulmate who is a complete stranger?

"So, we're soulmates," he said, laughing awkwardly.

"We are," I nodded. I cleared my throat as I wrapped my hands around my latte.

"This is kinda awkward," he chuckled. I looked up at him to see him smiling at me.

"I don't understand how people expect us to be so relaxed right now," I sighed. "You and I are complete strangers and because of a tattoo, we're soulmates."

"Well," he said, reaching over and grabbed my hands. "It's not like we're expected to run to the nearest church and get married."

I laughed, finally starting to relax. "I mean, we could always go to Vegas. I hear their drive-thru weddings can be quite beautiful."

Zac laughed, both of us relaxing. He let go of my hands and leaned back. When we stopped laughing, he was still smiling at me.

"I'm Zac," he introduced himself.

"I know," I awkwardly giggled. I felt my cheeks burning as I cleared my throat.

"Right," he smirked. "Do I get to know your name, Soulmate?"

"I don't know," I teased. "I kinda like being called, Soulmate."

He sent me a playful pout before breaking. I bit my bottom lip, my nerves resurfacing.

"Y/N," I finally told him.

"Y/N," he repeated. "Not as pretty as Soulmate, but I'll take it."

We both laughed as I playfully pulled my hands out of his. My breath got caught in my throat when the look on his face changed.

"My beautiful Y/N," he said, his voice so low it gave me chills. "Tell me about yourself."

I let out an embarrassed giggle as he leaned his elbows on the table, physically making himself look interested.

"Well," I said, nervously tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. "I was born and raised in Burbank. I moved to LA to go to UCLA and I ended up getting a job at my old high school."

"You're a teacher?" He asked, perking up. I giggled at his excitement.

"Yeah," I said, tucking that same piece of hair behind my ear again. "I teach AP U.S. History."

"AP? Damn!" He laughed. "That's like the top class!"

"Kinda," I giggled.

He cleared his throat, slightly shaking his head. "So, what grades do you teach?"

"Mostly seniors," I smiled. "But I also teach a few freshman classes."

"You get them as they come in and come out."

I tilted my head, biting back a laugh when his eyes widened like he just realized what he said.

"That came out. . . So wrong," he said slowly.

"It's okay," I chuckled.

* * * * *

We spent the next fifteen minutes, talking about ourselves. The more of his life I heard, the more I realized we had nothing in common.

"You alright?" Zac asked after I suddenly went quiet.

"This can't be right," I said under my breath.

"Why not?" He asked, laughing slightly.

"It's just. . . You're the famous Zac Efron. I'm just a high school teacher."

I held my breath when he reached over and gently grabbed my hand, lifting my arm and turning it over to show my left wrist. He smirked as he slowly ran his thumb over my tattoo.

"See?" He said, dropping his voice. "Soulmate tattoos don't lie."

"Your soulmate should be another famous actress or a model," I stuttered. "Not a high school teacher who's been mistaken as one of her students. I mean, what are your fans going to say? Honestly, my students would lose it if they find out my soulmate is Zac Efron, but your fans might not be as excited."

Zac chuckled as he stood up and walked over to my side of the booth, sitting next to me. I sucked in a breath as he reached up and cupped my cheek. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I held in a moan as I kissed him back. Zac slowly pulled away and leaned his forehead against mine.

"As far as I'm concerned," he whispered, "you're just the girl for me, Soulmate."

#zac efron #zac efron imagines #zac efron x reader #soulmates

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corpsedaydream · 3 years

Text

paint wars part 2

OKAY HERE IT IS! PART TWO TO PAINT WARS

if u haven’t read part one, i’ll link it right here

word count: 3k (yikes it’s a long one)

_______________________________

paint wars part 2

Things had been rough lately.

Real fucking rough.

You missed Corpse so much. You hadn’t spoken to each other since that fight at his apartment and that was fifty-four days ago now, almost two thirds of a season you’d been without him.

“I miss you.” You spoke aloud into the emptiness of your apartment, noting that the time on your phone now said 12:01am. It was officially now day fifty-five without speaking to him.

You swiped away all your notifications on your lock screen, ignoring everything and everyone that was trying to reach you right now so you could look at the person who was ignoring you. You wanted to look at the photo that was still your wallpaper. That first photo you’d ever taken together.

You went to change it on day thirty-eight of not speaking. On night thirty-seven of not speaking you’d gone out with your friends, they’d finally convinced you after a whole month of trying and you got absolutely wasted. So of course you’d called Corpse. But he didn’t answer, not any of the fifteen times you’d called. So that next morning, when you woke up hungover and saw that same lock screen photo and not one response from him, you told yourself you were going to change it. You tried to tell yourself you were angry, but it was just a coping mechanism to ignore the hurt that had been tunnelling through your heart since being without him. You spent an hour scouring tumblr and twitter for some aesthetically pleasing lock screen, but you didn’t save a single one. Nothing could compare to that photo of you and Corpse.

You then started to wonder if he’d listened to any of the voicemails you’d left the night before. You couldn’t remember them exactly, but you knew you definitely left four of them and how badly you wanted to know if the curiosity became too much to bear and he’d listened to them.

And he had.

On night thirty-seven, while you were out drinking, Corpse was in a deep sleep. He hadn’t been sleeping a whole lot lately, so finally, he’d crashed hard that night and slept through the calls you’d made to him. But even though he wasn’t aware of the calls in his sleeping state, you were still present in his dreamland. Every adventure his brain took him on was with you, maybe it was something that kept him asleep, the fact that you were right there in this fantasy. You were talking to him again, he could see your smile, hear your laugh, reach out and grab your hand, he could kiss you again. It was happiness. But then he woke up and he went to reach out for you in his bed, still caught up in the false wonder his dreams had provided him, only to find it was just him and reality slapped him fully awake. You weren’t there with him. You hadn’t been for a number of weeks. He missed you.

On day thirty-eight, when he spotted the missed calls from you on his phone, he cursed himself for being asleep and missing it. But would he had answered had he been awake? He wasn’t sure. So instead, he heard you speak to him for the first time in so long, even if it was through a voicemail you had left in the space of him not answering your calls.

“Oh, fuck- oh my god.”

That was it. That was the first voicemail, there was a lot of background noise but he had heard you so clearly. In your drunken state, you didn’t know what to say, so that’s what you had left with him, until you called back and left another.

"Hi.” You started it simple. He had the phone clutched so tightly in his hand, the device pressed so firmly against his ear, he didn’t want to miss a word. “I- I don’know what to say.” He noticed the slight slur to your words then, you were drunk when you had called. “I’m’a just go.”

You hung up again, but alas, there was another.

“Can I just ask... are you ignoring me?” Your voice was so meek, his chest hurt at the sound of it. He almost went to say no, but this was a one sided conversation, he’d missed the opportunity. “I miss you.” You hung up again, and he had to stop himself from replaying it over and over again to hear you say that you missed him.

But there was one last voice mail.

“I should stop calling, huh?” You sighed and he could picture you with a sad pout, your eyes all droopy with a mix emotion and alcohol. “But, I just want’a talk to you.” You confessed, then he heard another voice call your name in the background before they spoke to you and he listened. “(Y/N)! Here you are, what are you doing? That guys wondering where you are, he’s fucking hot-”

Corpse hung up then, he didn’t want to hear anymore. Jealousy was surging through him as the unwanted images of you with someone else plagued his mind and he threw his phone across his room. Wishing he hadn’t of started listening to those fucking voicemails.

What he didn’t know, though, is how the rest of that last voicemail went.

“I really don’t care.” You’d told your friend at the mention of the guy. Yeah, he was attractive and he was buying you drinks, but you wanted no one except Corpse. “Give me a sec.” You’d told your friend before walking away again, bringing your phone back to your ear to talk to the only person you wanted to talk to right now, even if he wasn’t on the other end of that call. “I hope you didn’t hear that, but if you did, don’t worry it. I’m g’na go home now.” You sighed and looked up at the night sky, there was no shooting star, or really any stars at all because of the light pollution from where you currently were, but you were still wishing that by some magic happenstance, Corpse would pick up his phone and speak to you again. “I wish I was going to yours.”

On day thirty-nine you cried so hard. You thought you had made it past this violently sobbing stage, this was exact state you’d cried yourself to sleep to each night for the first few weeks. Your heart was in so much pain, it was torn apart and you swore only one person had the power to stitch it back together, but he wasn’t there. You hadn’t heard a single thing from him. Were you two still together? Had you broken up? You weren’t even sure. But on day thirty-nine you cried that hard again because Corpse hadn’t responded at all to your calls or voicemails, so you convinced yourself he truly wanted nothing to do with you.

You’d been avoiding searching his name on social media, knowing it would send you into a spiral and you’d overthink every little thing but on day forty-two you’d noticed on twitter that he was playing games live. He wasn’t live himself, but you watched someone’s stream just to hear him again. You cried again doing this, because he was being exceptionally quiet, he wasn’t his normal self, he barely laughed once.

You wished you hadn’t clicked on it. The guilt you felt was already immense, but hearing him so not like himself made you feel even worse for causing all of this. You stopped watching, you couldn’t bear it. You knew you were to blame for all of this, you pushed him too far, you couldn’t believe how stupidly you had acted, you knew better and you did it anyway. The self attacking thoughts kept swirling your mind until you gave yourself a headache.

On day fifty-six of still not talking to each other, you ventured out to the beach with just your best friend. She’d been there for you a lot lately, she also felt bad about that night, but you tried to assured her it was your own fault. She didn’t know Corpse like you did, she didn’t know him at all, that’s why you felt to blame for not stopping the idea before it was too late.

“You should put sunscreen on.” Your best friend told you. You were laying on your towel in the direct sun, enjoying the warmth blasting into your skin, you hadn’t been to the beach in such a long time.

“Yeah.” You answered her, but you knew you weren’t going to. Another time, you would have, you knew the familiar sting of sunburn well and you normally put it on to look after your skin, but you hadn’t really been taking care of yourself too well lately, you just didn’t care enough.

On night fifty-six, you stood in front of your bathroom mirror looking over your body. You’d spent a lot longer at the beach than you realised and now you were burnt so badly and as red as a tomato. “Fuck.” You said out loud, turning and looking over your shoulder to inspect your back, it was just as red. You should’ve worn sunscreen. You left your bathroom to go find your aloe vera plant, only to find that it was dead. “Fuck!” You repeated, the one hope you had to help heal your skin even slightly quickly vanishing. “Oh, fuck. What am I going to do?”

That’s how you found yourself heading towards a 24 hour store to purchase whatever aloe vera cream or gel you could find, you knew it wouldn’t be as good as the plant itself, but you needed something. It was late and you were anxious as you neared the shop, you knew about this place from Corpse, he would often go there at odd hours to get whatever he needed. It was close to his place and you hadn’t driven around this area since that disaster of a night.

You squinted your eyes as you walked in and the harsh fluorescent lights pierced into your eyes after walking in from the night time. You were walking quickly and you told yourself it was because you were embarrassed about your skin being so burnt and you didn’t want anyone to see you like this, but it was really because you were so anxious over the thought of who you could potentially run into in this shop. Your swift steps brought you to the skin care isle and you let your eyes scan the shelves for the aloe vera you so desperately sought out.

“(Y/N)?”

You froze completely and you swore you even felt your heart stop beating. Hearing his voice speak your name again felt like lighting had struck right through you. This couldn’t be real, this had to be your imagination playing some sort of sick joke on you. Slowly, you turned towards the direction his voice had come from and sure enough, there he was. Dressed in all black, a beanie on his head and a mask over the bottom half of his face, your eyes locked with his. There was a pull in your chest, your heart had heard him, too and it wanted so badly to be with him, to be healed by him. You had thought up this scenario a million times over these past fifty-six days, of what would happen had you and him had a run in like this and in every single one you had so much to say, but right now, you were speechless.

Before you had a chance to even try to say anything if you managed to stop being stuck in silence, Corpse spoke again.

“Fucking hell,” He neared you and you sucked in a quick breath at his sudden movement. “Look how burnt you are.” You were wearing tights and an oversized hoodie, so your entire body was covered, but your face was just as burnt and clearly he had noticed.

This was another aspect that didn’t fit into your scenarios you’d thought up about this moment. You’d imagined you would’ve look amazing. But instead of looking like some beautiful mermaid, you were the same colour as Ariel’s hair from The Little Mermaid. “I know, don’t look at me.” You huffed and dropped your head down, letting your beach waved hair fall around your face.

“You didn’t wear sunscreen?”

“Obviously not.”

“That was silly.”

“I know.”

“Are you sore?”

“Yeah.” It felt so natural to have this back and forth with him. It was brief, but it was enough for your heart to kick back into gear and speed up.

He stayed silent for a prolonged moment so you looked back to his face and his eyes were on your face but it was his turn to glance away then and you took the opportunity to really soak in his side profile. You’d even missed just being able to look at him.

“Why are you here?” He asked you.

“I need aloe vera and I knew this place would be open.”

“You’re not using your plant?” Butterflies fluttered inside of you that he remembered a simple mundane fact that you preferred the healing touch of the actual plant for sunburn as opposed to what was bought at a store in a bottle.

“It died.”

Corpse suddenly looked back to you and much to your surprise, he laughed.

“Why are you laughing?!”

“How do you kill a succulent?”

“You know I’m not good at gardening and shit like that.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you’d be able to kill a succulent.” He laughed harder and you started to smile, he was teasing you but it felt so right. And hearing his laughter filled you with a warmth you’d been missing.

“Shut up.” You told him, but you were beginning to laugh too. “It’s hard to keep plants alive.”

“(Y/N), succulents are pretty much impossible to kill.”

“Okay, I get it, I didn’t purposely murder my aloe vera plant.”

“Oh, baby.” The pet name slipped so easily from his lips but it caught you both off guard, so the both of you stopped laughing and your postures stiffened.

Briefly, your eyes met but each of you darted your vision elsewhere. However, neither of you made no effort to move away from one another.

“Sorry.” Corpse said softly.

“It’s okay.” And it was, so okay. You wanted to tell him that hearing him call you baby was all you’d been wanting to hear again over these almost fifty-seven days without him. “I should really get this aloe vera gel on me, though.” You really didn’t want to leave him, but you couldn’t stand in this store forever.

“Are you sunburnt all over?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You sighed

And just as instinctively as the pet name had slipped out, his hands started to move towards the sleeve of your jumper. But he stopped himself when you flinched slightly and he quickly realised what he was doing. “Sorry, can I see?”

“I mean, you can, but I don’t want you to do it because it does really fucking hurt. That’s why I jumped, not because I don’t want you to touch me.” You answered him quickly. “I do want you to touch me- wait, I mean, no.” If your face wasn’t already red from the sunburn, it would have become red then from the blush you could feel forming. And if your skin wasn’t in pain you would have facepalmed yourself. “Sorry.” You apologised then.

“It’s okay.”

Shaking your head, you began to gently slide the sleeve of your big hoodie up.

“Fuck, (Y/N).” Corpse cursed, concern filling him as your skin was practically glowing from the burn it had copped. “You can’t do that to yourself.”

“I know.”

“How long were you at the beach?”

“All day pretty much.”

“You’re that burnt all over?”

“Yeah, I mean, some spots are worse. I think my back and shoulders are probably the worst. They hurt the most.”

He moved to step around you then, disappearing out of your sight as he was now standing behind you. “Can I?”

“Yeah, just be careful.”

And he made sure to keep his movements cautious, he decided on looking from the top, his hands grabbing the neck on the back of your hoodie to pull it back ever so gently so he could inspect. His eyes widened in a combination horror, worry and sympathy. He’d seen you get sunburnt before, but never to this extent. “Oh my fucking god.” The contrast between where the strap of your togs sat over your shoulder, blocking a sliver of your skin from the sun to keep it its natural colour versus the red that was brought from the burn was insane. “It looks like someone has painted you.”

“I mean, I guess the sun did. Just in a really painful way.”

“You’re not planning on going to the beach anytime soon, right?” Corpse carefully released your hoodie then and stepped in front of you once more. Distress was so present on his face, despite most of it being covered. He was so worried about you in this moment.

“Definitely not. The only thing I’m planning on is not going outside in any sunlight until my skin is healed.”

“Living like me.”

“Guess so.”

“My aloe vera plant is alive.” He stated.

“Wow, you’re really just going to flex that right now? Trying to kick me while I’m down.” You joked back, assuming he was teasing you.

“No, I mean...” He trailed off, his eyes struggling to stay on yours as he continued. “You could come over and use it, I know you like the real stuff better and I could help do your back, or wherever you can’t reach.” He was nervous, but he really didn’t have to be.

You could feel it happening, your heart beginning to heal.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Do you want to?”

“Yeah.”

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband x reader #writing #mine

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spookysxruca · 3 years

Text

I frowned as I checked my phone again for what felt like the hundredth time. Oscar had said he would be back by 6.30 and it was now nearing almost 9. Usually I wouldn’t overthink this too much, it was part of being in the streets. I didn’t like it but Oscar had to do what he had to do.

Despite the time ticking on, it was still light outside and the sound of crickets and cicadas chirped loudly along side the sound of the Santos on the front porch. Everybody was in high spirits, literally either high or drunk or both. Everybody seemed relaxed and unbothered so I tried to ease my worries and relax, after all the ruca of the head of the Santos can’t be seen to be weak, it sends a bad image.

Summertime on the block meant two things. Firstly, that the neighbourhood would be active almost 24 hours a day from kids playing on their front porches, to gangs dealing business and having cookouts. It also meant that come Fall, most of those gang members would be dead or in jail and that was the reality of living in Freeridge. I had grown up in the height of the gang lifestyle with my Papi being one of the Elders. Well, he had been when I was a kid, then he was shot by a rival gang..

The time turned 9 and after another unanswered call to Oscar, I searched the porch for someone I knew would have answers. Taking a large swig from my bottle of corona I made my way over to Sad Eyes who was sat playing cards with a few of the guys.

“Hey, yo. Can I have a minute?” I asked jerking my head over to a corner away from people.

“Sure, wassup ma?” he replied standing up and following me.

“¿Dónde está mi maldito novio? Eh?” I said making sure to emphasise each word with a finger into his chest. “He said he would be back almost 3 hours ago, you know I don’t like this shit!”

“Chilll ma, it’s Spooky. You know he’s always aight!” Sad Eyes joked as he placed a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to reassure me.

“Sí, I know, but you know how I worry. The streets are getting worse, the block is getting hotter and after what happened to Ruby and that poor little girl…”

“I know Dora, but you have to trust Spooky knows what he’s doing okay?” he said.

I sighed and nodded. It was the same response every single time I expressed any concerns. Sad Eyes would tell me not to worry because ‘Spooky knows best’ and Oscar wouldn’t tell me anything. I know he was trying to keep me safe for my own good but I knew exactly what the block was like. I had grown up in it just as he had. I lost my dad to it in front of my eyes. If anyone could take the truth it was me, but instead he always kept me far from that life.

I rejoined the party and took a seat in one of the deck chairs on my lawn, grabbing another corona from the cooler that sat on the ground next to me , when suddenly a pair of hands covered my eyes. A face pressed against my own and a familiar scent washed over me causing my heart to pick up pace almost tenfold.

“Guess who?”

Immediately I jumped up and wrapped my arms around Oscars neck tightly. I held him tightly for about five seconds before letting him go and slapping the side of his bare arm hard.

“¿Qué diablos te pasa? ¿No sabes hacer una llamada telefónica?” I snapped.

“Hi to you too, mi amor.” Oscar laughed rubbing his arm.

When I finally stood back to take him in, I noticed the cuts on his face and lip and bruises all over his body and I felt horrific guilt for slapping his arm now. This wasn’t the first time Oscar had gone out to “handle business at work” and come back all beat up.

“Oh my baby, I’m so sorry! What happened?” I asked teaching a hand up to his face.

He flinched slightly as my hand ran across his cheek but he shook his head no. “It was nothing mami, work stuff.” Oscar shrugged.

I rolled my eyes. I had heard that line every day for almost five years now.

“Get a new job then.” I replied walking off into the house away from the noise of our friends.

There was no arguing I loved Oscar and he loved me. Everybody knew he was king of the block, king of the Santos. Everybody respected him, the youngers looked up to him. He was their king but I didn’t want to be their queen. I was ride or die, Oscar knew that I would never talk or switch up on him. I had stuck by him when he went to prison for 4 years and everybody said we wouldn’t last. But he also knew that I didn’t want to be part of that lifestyle. I didn’t want to lose him the way I lost my dad but the streets were getting hotter day by day, you could almost taste the electricity in the air. Something was brewing and it was only a matter of time before it bubbled over..

I proceeded to get changed into some comfy pj’s. I hadn’t realised the noise from outside had died down and eventually I heard the last of the Santos make their way off our lawn and Oscar returned inside, making an appearance in our bedroom.

“Amor mio, you know I don’t like being in the streets but this is my life.. I have a code, I know you get that better than anyone.” he sighed.

“You think I don’t know that Oscar!? I had to watch my papi die for some stupid turf wars and you think I wanna see you go out the same way, eh? Are you loco?!” I yelled. “This is the third time this month you’ve come home all jumped up and you want me to just be okay with it? I watched you jump your own brother, your ONLY brother into a gang like that’s normal!”

“For us it is normal!” Oscar snapped. “Born by the streets, live by the streets. It’s all we know! I have to be there for Cesar an I gotta make sure if I can’t be that the Santos will be. That’s family and you should know all this better than anyone, Dora!”

“Can’t you see, I am your family Oscar! Me and Cesar, we are your family. Live by the streets, well the streets are going to fucking kill you! Idiota!” I screamed. “We don’t have to stay, papi.. Please,” I begged him, “we can take Cesar and go. We could go tonight if we wanted baby, no one would even know and we will be safe. We could have a life. A real life.”

Oscar held both hands up to his temples, rubbing them slowly. He was angry and about to blow, that was his telltale sign. Growing up, everyone knew Spooky Diaz was the meanest, scariest kid on our block. Even looking at him the wrong way got your ass whooped back in the day, everyone was scared of him back then. Everyone was scared of him now, except me, except for now. Now was different.

I could see his chest raising and falling rapidly as he paced the room.

“This is the only way..”

“You’re a fucking idiota, Oscar! You are ruining Cesar’s life getting him involved in this Santos shit. An’ you know I will always hold you down but you think I wanna spend my life like some Bonnie an’ Clyde trap house movie? You think one day I wanna have to tell my son or daughter, ‘Oh I’m sorry your daddy didn’t love us enough to give up gang banging and so he died.’ “

“FUCK! You’re fucking suffocating me Dora!” he screamed moving so fast I barely knew what had happened.

I closed my eyes tightly, grimacing and bracing for the connection but it never came. I felt my hair whip around my cheek and the air swoosh as Oscars fist came flashing past the side of my head and into the dry wall behind it.

“Shit.”

I heard Oscar mumble under his breath. He slowly withdrew his hand from the wall as plaster crumbled and fell into a cloud of dust on the floor below it. He went to take a step towards me, arms extended but I stepped back slightly, my entire body still tense. I glanced at his hand that was growing at an aggressive rate and flinched again.

Oscar had never hit me, never raised a hand to me and yet here I was for the first time afraid of him. Growing up, Oscar had always been tough, always fighting and I got that it came with the lifestyle and territory but with me he had always been the exact opposite. He was caring and thoughtful, he was passionate about cooking. He had always been patient and gentle and soft with me, even when we would have arguments he hardly ever raised his voice, always preferring to talk it out and be the voice of reason. All he wanted was to provide for his family like his dad had never.

“Dora.. What the fuck? I wasn’t going to hit you.” he said shakily. “You know I would never.”

I nodded as a tear fell slowly from my eye, “I know Oscar.. It’s just that sometimes I feel like I don’t know you anymore. I feel like more and more these days it’s Spooky coming home. Not Oscar.. And I know you try to keep me safe from that life but I want us all to be safe and we can’t be if we stay here..”

Oscar made towards me again but this time I leaned into his arms and let him wrap them around me, burying my head into him. He held me tight to his chest and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“This,” he said gesturing to our bedroom around him, “this is all temporary Dora. I’m sorry I bring this shit home with me mamas, I am.. but it’s not forever.”

“You promise me?”

“Scouts honour, mami.”

#spooky diaz imagines #oscar diaz #spooky diaz #oscar spooky diaz #omb #omb spoilers #on my block #cesar diaz #monse finnie #ruby martinez #jazmine #jamal turner

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21u004 · 3 years

Text

the last / okkotsu yuuta / april 4th, 2021

okkotsu yuuta is not an early bird.

he doesn’t like getting up before the sun, but he learned to love it when he once watched it rise with you. he doesn’t like cold showers in the morning, but he’s willing to take them to be presentable for you. he doesn’t like alarms, but he’s willing to make as many as he can to wake up with you.

yuuta is not an early bird, but at 5 in the morning, fully-dressed and awake, he’s in front of an old convenience store, six feet away from where you sat down.

reluctant to call out your name, his gaze and shoulders heavy with unnecessary guilt.

he eventually greets you.

“good morning,” he tells you at 5:16 a.m.

his voice is raspy, possibly from how it’s only been 53 minutes since he woke up.

you don’t mind it anyways; you’ve gotten used to hearing its soft whispers of “good morning” whenever he comes by your place to pick you up, or the lighthearted bursts of laughter when he finds himself in a stupid situation, or how he leans into your ear to tell you how wonderful you look when it’s too crowded and you’re struck with unpleasant thoughts.

it takes you minutes to reply, hesitant and distracted with thoughts wondering why he was here even if it had been you that called him over last night.

he figures you haven’t noticed him yet, so he takes three steps towards you.

one for each year you both spent calling and finding home in each other.

the first year, when you first ask him to go stargazing with you even though there were barely even stars at night with how bright the city is.

the second year, when he’s not-so-shy to let you know about how he carries an extra scarf from fall until spring because he’s memorized your forgetfulness.

the third year, when things start to fall apart, but you’re both still able to mend it back together. (or pretend that it’s fixed.)

and the fourth—

“you really came, huh,” your voice is low and almost inaudible except for the pained chuckle at the end of your sentence.

full of regret, your head hangs low. maybe it wasn’t a good idea to have invited him.

he was stupid to have actually come anyway.

and honestly, he didn’t want to come had it been someone else that invited him out at morning.

but it’s you who invited him, and he’s never been able to say no to you. not when he doesn’t like seeing you disappointed.

“of course,” he lowers his gaze to the ground, unable to look at you without feeling his head and chest ache every second. “you know i’d never flake out on you.”

—then why was there never a fourth year?

something stings your eyes and blur your vision for a moment.

they’re gone when you blink, leaving behind a wet trail down your cheek that was quick to dry when the breeze passes you by.

a sore, forced laugh leaves your lips, followed by a cough that has him rushing to your side and patting your back gently while worried eyes watch over you for every second that passed by.

“are you okay?” despite his hoarse and harsh-sounding voice, his tone is sweet and mellow, dipped in genuine concern, rough hands handling you delicately.

everything’s silent other than your cough resonating in the empty parking lot and his soft pats on your back ringing in your ears. it remains empty aside from the two of you.

too bad it wasn’t open for 24 hours so that there would be a few vehicles around or aisles for you to hide behind and then you wouldn’t have to face him.

that’s what you’ve always done though.

run away from reality and its problems.

it’s time for you to face it again.

“sorry,” you cough into your elbow. “yeah, i’m fine.”

yuta knows about how often you lie about your condition, so he asks one more time in hopes of getting an honest answer.

a nod is all he gets. he doesn’t question you again.

he wants to though.

he wants to ask if you’re okay and if you two can try again.

still, he doesn’t because he knows that he’s going to get both a ‘yes’ and a 'no’, and he knows which answer belonged to which question.

backing away from you, he sits when he deems the distance between you two not too far nor too close. you’re more than a hand’s reach, and that’s enough for him. he wants to be closer, but to have you around is already enough for him.

it’s already 5:28.

time passes too quickly.

despite wanting to cherish the moment, sit in silence and hopefully, peace as well, he stops his stalling and questions your need to see him in the morning when there’s so much more time left on the clock.

as he’s fulfilled your desire to meet him, you fulfill his of basking in the stillness of the world—with you.

you, and not someone else.

you, because you’re the one he wants to have around.

you, because he—

—loves you.

he loves you, and not someone else, because he can’t see himself with anyone else other than you.

(and he’ll keep on loving you, even if you tell him to stop for his sake and yours.)

“do you still remember?” you mumble in your folded arms on your knees. “when we first met.”

of course he does. it was somewhat unusual and unforgettable aside from the fact that the place you’re both at right now is where you two met.

a cold, lonely dawn spent at an empty parking lot of a convenience store. two kids feeling empty and drained until he decided to strike up a conversation with you, wondering why you were there when you could ask him the same. neither of you judged each other about it though, understanding one another regardless being in different situations.

that’s when you both got on the same vehicle and drove to a road that led to now.

it was like any other roadtrip, fun yet tiring, but neither of you realized that when everything was romanticized since the moment you two got on. it really was stupid of you two to think that meeting at a convenience store was romantic because it’s not.

it really was stupid of you to ignore the warning signs.

“yeah,” scratching his nape, he tilts his head to get a glimpse of your face, but he only sees your back. “we danced around even though there wasn’t any music playing.”

“it was dumb,” you turn away from him as if you were going to get the urge remake the mistakes you made then if you saw his undeniably pretty features.

“it was fun though,” a shy, embarrassed smile tugs at his lips. he hopes you’re smiling too.

“wanna do it again?”

this was dumber.

though you’re not going to make the same mistakes again. this was the end already, after all. there’s no more mistakes to be made when there’s no choices to be made.

the deep inhale of the cold air stings your lungs as you finally face him for the first time today, standing up and holding a hand out to him.

he swallows the last bit of hesitance that was preventing him from taking your hand, then starts to pull you into him.

“still no music?” one of his hands run to your waist.

you answer him as he’s about to intertwine his other with yours by taking out your phone and a slow, gloomy melody begins to play. it echoes in the empty space lightly when you settle it on the cold cement floor.

no comments were made about the choice of music. his hand rests on your waist while yours on his shoulder, the others laced together.

for a moment, you’re both back to the start.

dwelling in the glum atmosphere, savoring each other’s company.

still unable to look each other in the eye so you two opt for the ground or anywhere other than the eyes or face. stiffly and awkwardly swaying, feet pausing every few seconds in doubt, choosing which steps to take because it’s not used to dancing.

bathing in the lowlight of mornings that turn into something better because that’s what you two are good at: romanticizing the hopeless and the unromantic.

“i wanted to have a last dance with you,” you mutter, afraid he hears it. “that’s why.”

with the little space between your bodies, he does hear it. like your first meeting, he doesn’t judge you for it. he likes dancing with you anyways.

“it doesn’t have to be the last one,” he wishes to say but it remains as a thought, the lack of courage not allowing him to use his voice. knowing he’s going to regret doing so later, he still keeps them to himself.

so instead, he says something else.

“we can always dance again, if you’d like.”

fuck.

that’s even worse. (is it?)

on his shoulder, he feels your fingers claw at him. he wasn’t supposed to say that. at least he doesn’t mind it, but maybe you do.

you said it yourself, this was the last. maybe you said that because you didn’t want to anymore, he overthinks.

with closed eyes, your fingers loosen up on the cotton material, relaxing and exhaling slowly through your nose.

“that's—” he tenses up at your voice.

“that’s cool.”

did he hear you right?

“i don’t mind dancing with you again but,” the corner of your lips curl up, a burning sensation in your lungs when you inhale the cold morning air and finish your sentence. “someone might.”

someone, meaning the person you see himself with in your stead. the person whom you’re convinced is better than you. the person whom you’re convinced is more fitting for him, unlike you.

your eyes meet, and he can see through you.

you always lied about how you felt, until now.

it’s all obvious with the way your voice stutters, eyes falter, and hands tremble; with how you avoid his gaze as much as you can because it’s become unbearable to look at him without having your heart be spared from being torn into little pieces.

yuuta’s done beating around the bushes. biting his lip, his hands squeeze your waist and hand, his gaze shaky.

“you didn’t have to end this.”

having enough of it, too much for him to contain, he bursts into tears and lays his head on your shoulder, shuddering and holding onto you tightly, as if that was ever going to stop you from letting go.

“it was better for the both of us.”

the music gets drowned out by his choked sobs, the sky growing a little brighter than before each minute.

the sun rises slowly and lights up the dark corners of the world, and there’s nothing you can do but watch another day begin again.

there’s nothing you can do to stop yuuta crying.

there was nothing you could do to stop yourself from falling out of love.

(and even if you could prevent it, the road was always going to lead here.)

and as your shoulder gets soaked in tears, while you softly tug at the black tufts of his hair, you remember that there never was a fourth year because you—your insecurities—cut it off before he could. (because he never would, and neither would you.)

at your reply, he wonders why he even came here in the first place. was it because he was hopeful that you’d take him back again? (definitely.)

it’s too early for this, and okkotsu yuuta is not an early bird.

he doesn’t like getting up before the sun, but today, he did just for you. he doesn’t like cold showers in the morning, but today, he took them to be presentable for you. he doesn’t like alarms, but last night, he made as many as he could to make sure he doesn’t wake up late and make you wait for nothing.

yuuta is not an early bird, so he faces the consequences of being left.

(while he’s busy facing his consequences, you’re facing yours: having to wake up knowing he’s someone else’s because of you.)

(you never wanted to leave, but it was better than to have him abandon you.)

(even if he never was going to.)

#unedited #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk angst #okkotsu yuuta x reader

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tinyjeanmarco · 3 years

Note

omg friends to lovers modern au with porco ?? soft porco just gets me in my Feels™

two idiots

note: woof woof. you know just the kind of softness i love 😩🤚 coming right up, darling! this turned out to be one of my favorite things i’ve written. i hope you all enjoy!! here’s some modern friends to lovers with porco x gn!reader!

wc: 2,154

modern!porco x gn!reader

warnings: language, porco being a dork.

porco had been your best friend ever since he adopted you in his social circle in high school. your “friends” at the time were pretty shitty and he convinced you to drop them and join his friend group instead. best decision ever because now you had actual friends who lasted beyond school as well as not feeling like shit 24/7 anymore.

you’ve been friends for what felt like forever, and you even got a job at the same little café. currently, you two had the closing shift. that just spells chaos with porco’s silly antics he always pulls. it was a surprise he hasn’t gotten you two fired yet.

so now, with the “open” sign flipped to “closed,” porco takes it upon himself to fuck around and give himself a whipped cream mustache. which is very irresponsible because you could get in so much trouble if the higher ups find out.

you did nothing to stop him, just laughing to the point you were afraid your lungs would give out from the force of your laughter.

“porco, you’ve got to stop doing that, that’s so unsanitary. plus we have twenty minutes to finish and lock up.” you giggled, making your way over to the sink where all the dishes were waiting to be cleaned.

“can’t be fired if we’re not caught,” he sent a playful wink to you “and it’s fun to make you laugh all the time.” you just rolled your eyes at him.

“you’re absolutely no help, you bafoon. go mop the floors or something.”

“fine, mom. whatever you say.” he groaned and licked the whipped cream off his face. however, on his way to grab the mop, he made sure to splash you with the water running from the faucet.

“you dick! you’ll pay for this!” you shout as you cup your hands under the water, gathering as much as you could, before flinging it in his direction.

“see? there you go. now you’re having fun!” he cackled.

“you’re cleaning that up, dipshit.” he nodded frantically, giving you a salute.

“of course, mom. planned on it.” you couldn’t hold back your laugh after seeing the serious look on his face. you smacked him on the arm.

“stop calling me mom, it’s weird.” with a roll of your eyes, you got back to cleaning the dishes, set on getting out of work on time. you knew messing around wouldn’t exactly get you guys in trouble, but if you didn’t clock out and close up in time, you would be reprimanded.

“i would never stop saying something that makes you so annoyed, so no, mom.” he had the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he went about cleaning the floors. you decided to refrain from giving him the satisfaction of your response, instead focusing on your work.

of course, the peaceful silence would only last so long as porco decided to fill it with his idiotic chatter.

“hey, (y/n), do you remember senior year when zeke made you laugh so hard that you pissed yourself? that’s what this is reminding me of.” his boisterous laugh bounced around all the walls of the small building as your face flushed.

“you said you would never bring that up again! we agreed on that. how would you like if i brought up you pissing the bed when you were a sophomore in high school? you were like fifteen or sixteen and you still peed the bed.” now it was your turn to laugh at him.

“uncool! that was a one time thing! and i chugged a whole bottle of water before bed, okay? not my fault.” now it was his turn to go completely red in the face, the tips of his ears also tinted red. you mocked him, repeating his last sentence under your breath in a dumb voice.

he scoffed at you and then everything was silent again, minus the running water and clanking of dishes. your thoughts kind of took over as you mindlessly worked. you two had been friends for what feels like half of your life, and for a majority of that time, you had a crush on him as well. you still do.

whenever you guys had free time, you would spend it together, as best friends do. there was no doubt that you would catch feelings eventually. sometimes you wish you could do something about it, but you’re content just being his best friend instead of ruining what you have to take a chance on a relationship that probably wouldn’t happen.

porco just had this dorky, boyish charm to him that drew you in immediately. it seemed to attract all kinds of others, too, because he had numerous partners growing up. his relationships never lasted too long though, earning him the title of “heartbreaker.” another reason you didn’t wanna try your luck. you didn’t know if he would break up with you after a month of being together.

being totally absorbed by your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed porco trying to get your attention.

“hellooo? earth to (y/n)?” he waved a hand in front of your face. you startled and ended up splashing water on both of you.

“huh? sorry, i spaced out.” you said sheepishly, turning off the running water. you had finished your task and noticed porco had as well.

“i’ve finished mopping and wiping tables down and shit. you wanna clock out if that’s all?”

“oh, uh, yeah. i think we’ve already gotten to everything. i already sorted out everything in the back so we should be okay. lemme finish up here.” you made sure the sink was cleaned up and porco got to putting the rest of the cleaning supplies away, and worked on shutting the lights off. you snagged your bag from the back and met up with him by the door.

“you need a ride home?” he inquired as you locked the doors and headed out. that got you to stop, remembering that the last bus was around an hour ago, so that left you with walking home as your only option. luckily for you though, porco was always paying attention to your habits, knowing that you wouldn’t have a way home.

“yeah, actually, that would be great. i’m too tired to walk home tonight.” you smiled at him appreciatively, earning a smile back. climbing into his car, you stole the aux cord immediately. you always got control of the tunes when he was driving you somewhere.

you both got to making idle prattle as you scrolled through your playlists to find something to play. you settled on one of your favorite songs, humming along here and there as he drove.

as you neared your apartment, he turned down the music to a low volume and spoke up.

“so, i’ve wanted to talk to you about something for a while and i feel like now is a good a time as any.” you gave an agreeing ‘hm,’ prompting him to continue.

“i uh, think you’re really cool and all, and i’ve kind of sort of had a crush on you since high school which i know is like a long time or whatever, but i got tired of just keeping it to myself for so long and i just wanted to tell you.” you were shocked to say the least. your heart rate picked up, filled with hope and anticipation.

he pulled into your apartment complex and put the car in park before turning to you and continuing to speak.

“i don’t expect it to go anywhere, you don’t even have to feel the same but, i just wanted to kinda lay out my feelings, maybe see if you feel the same?” he phrased it as more of a question. when he began speaking, he was pretty confident, but that slowly wore down the more he said until it was just his nerves left. insecurities rubbing together and creating a spark.

“of course, you don’t have to feel the same. that would be silly to expect that from you. we’re best friends and we always have been. actually, the more i think, that was really stupid to say because you like see me as a brother and stuff and like incest is gross so honestly you ca-” you had to cut him off, as cute as his rambling was, you didn’t want him to start overthinking. a sad porco is a not fun porco.

“shut up and kiss me, dumbass.” you shot out before your nerves got to you.

“-n ignore- what?” he looked at you incredulously, not expecting you to say anything like that. hey, same porco.

“i said kiss me, or i’ll kiss you first, then how would you feel? you’re the one confessing to me.” and the confidence you have just keeps building up. you honestly had no idea what was getting into you anymore, but knowing that your long time crush has liked you back for around the same amount of time you liked him? score.

“oh, yeah i’ll kiss you.” and with that, he leaned over the console and crashed your lips together. your heart was dancing in your chest, crashing into your ribs. you almost worried that he could hear it, but you got lost in the kiss, forgetting and not bothering to care.

his hands came up to cradle your jaw, pulling your face impossibly closer to him as he kissed you even deeper than before. you pulled away, deciding to give him more of a response than telling him to just kiss you.

“i’ve liked you just as long, pock. i never thought you would ever feel the same, i mean, you always dated so many people and stuff so i just assumed that you weren’t interested in me.” you confessed, flushing slightly.

“yeah, but, you know how long each of those lasted. it was because of you. they took up time i wanted to spend with you and i only really wanted you. i was just trying to get over my feelings. i never knew i could have this with you.” he began stroking your cheek with one of his thumbs, the other hand searching for yours to interlock your fingers together.

“i guess this car just has two idiots looking into each other’s eyes then, huh?” you laughed, leaning into his hand on your face. “i never thought i could have this with you, either.”

“yeah, i guess we are kind of dumb, then.” he went in for another kiss, giving it his all before pulling away again. “can i take you out? we work the same shifts usually so we’ll have a day off together soon.”

“yeah, i think i’d like that a lot.” you couldn’t help yourself, you had to kiss him again. now that you could do that, you don’t think you’ll stop anytime soon. you just felt so right when you kissed him, the entire world fell away leaving the two of you melded together, just sharing how much you felt for the other.

pulling away from the kiss, porco pulled you into a crushing hug. he didn’t want to let you go, but realized he probably should. you’d been sitting in his car for a few minutes and he knew you needed your rest. it had been a long day.

“okay, now get out of my car please.” he smiled at you lovingly.

“so sweet, so romantic, my little pock.” he groaned but let out a snort soon after.

“ugh, you ruined the moment.” he rolled his eyes and you stared at him, bewildered.

“me? you’re the one kicking me out of your car.” he laughed at this.

“only because i know you’ll complain if you don’t get enough sleep. i’ll see you at work tomorrow though, babe, don’t worry,” he paused for a second, “i can call you that, right?”

“yeah, and you better keep calling me that or i’ll tell everyone at work about your whipped cream escapades.” he gasped, mocking offense.

“you wouldn’t dare.” his eyes narrowed at you. you let out a loud laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“oh, i would. try me.” he rolled his eyes and gave you a kiss on your nose.

“yeah, yeah, i believe you. but you really should get going. i promise i’ll keep calling you babe, and that i’ll see you tomorrow. babe.” you smiled and reached out to give his hand a squeeze.

“yeah, i’ll see you tomorrow. bye, pock.” and with that you made your way out of his car, giving him a wave and blowing him a kiss before you turned to head inside. he pretended to grab your kiss and pressed it to his lips before waving back.

you giggled to yourself giddily as you walked into the building, not believing the events that unfolded today, or happy they made you. yeah, today was a good day.

#porco x reader #porco galliard x reader #porco #porco galliard #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #aot x reader #snk #aot #attack on titan x reader

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moonlightlullaby · 3 years

Text

For someone who tweets so little, I surely do spend a hideous amount of time on the app, checking artists that I admire, friends and supporters - I always keep an eye on them, they’re wicked and funny and I fuck with them - or reading what people say about me - maybe a bit narcissistic of me, but who cares? Not me.

Today is no different. I’d been working on a new track for hours and it’s starting to stress me - all the overthinking and going from one direction to another and then back -, so I decided to stop for the day - night - and opened bird app. I’ve been scrolling for sometime now when a tweet catches my eye:

It’s not like I haven’t seen a Billie Eilish and I’s mashup, but this one’s new to me. ‘Y/N’... The name sounds familiar, I just can’t remember where I’ve heard it. Let’s check it out.

Fuck. This is the shit!

What an angelic voice. And the lyrics? I felt that. Their voice’s echoing in the back of my mind, I know I’ve heard it before. Where, though? I hate my memory.

I mean, could I just quit being a little bitch and type their name to see what comes up? Yes. Am I going to do that when I have friends who can tell me instead? Please.

Even Karl knows her, what the fuck? Am I living under a rock or something?

‘Y/N phenomena’. Enter. Three separate mixtapes? 24 songs? At once? Let’s go.

Next day

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

🐝 bee-girls are ruining my life 🐝

chapter 2: this is the shit! x2

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Masterlist Previous Next

A/N: Ok, so since I don’t have a life, I’ve actually made a playlist of what I imagine phenomena being like... If that’s something you’d like to see, hit me up (: Also, if everything works out, I’ll post a new chapter this thurday too, just so it feels less spaced out.

Thanks for the response to the first chapter <3 Feel free to comment on this one so I can keep improving. Hope you like/liked it!

Taglist: @callmemaeve-y @victoria-a567 @the-thighs-of-betrayal @tclegane

#corpse husband imagine #corpse husband smau #corpse imagine #corpse smau #corpse x y/n #bgarml

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komfortkiri · 3 years

Text

HELP WANTED (PART 1)

WOLF QUIRK F!READER x HANTA SERO x EIJIRO KIRISHIMA WORD COUNT: 1,724 TW/CW: BULLYING MENTION, PARENTAL ABANDONMENT, PANIC ATTACK MENTION (ONCE)

NOTES: I’ll make a banner for this series whenever I get my shit together on Photoshop, lol. I’ve been on a Sero/Kiri thing lately plus this was brewing in my head so I wanted to hurry and type it all down before I forgot it.

“ HELP WANTED! 3RD AND FINAL ROOMMATE FOR A 3 BEDROOM, 2 BATH HOUSE. — MUST BE RESPONSIBLE AND RELIABLE. TEXT THE NUMBER FOR ANY QUESTIONS. NAME IS KIRI. ”

You had been staring at this ad for a couple of days now. Surely they must have found someone by now, right? You were new around the area and being on your own, wasn’t quite what you had imagined. Your parents? Well, your mom up and decided to leave you behind after bringing you home from the hospital and your dad.. He’s always been there but you wanted to prove you could finally be on your own. You were 24 for God’s sake, of course you could do it, but sometimes— you found yourself wondering if you bit off more than you could chew. Living in this big city full of crazy quirks of all kind, including yours, it was pretty overwhelming.

Oh, your quirk? Well, you were part wolf and people could tell that from looking at you, due to your pointed black ears that rested on either side of the top of your head plus a tail that was pretty fluffy and was also black in color.. Can’t forget the fangs that you have, too. Your howl could deafen someone for a brief amount of time, distracting them. You also had the agility which mean you could run— fast.

Growing up wasn’t easy at all. You were often teased about your appearance. Kids would pull your tail, thinking it didn’t hurt you when in reality, it did. You spent majority of your childhood wondering why you had to have such an awful quirk, blaming your father since he was also part wolf. However, as you got older, you became more mature and focused more on yourself. Of course, you apologized to your father, which brought the two of your closer, allowing you to confess the reasoning behind why your child days were so… dark and why you lashed out in such ways.

Your father was a strong man, taking on a few jobs at a time to support you and his self while also keeping the bills paid on time. You admired him for that but you didn’t want to depend on him anymore which led you to where you are right this second— staring at this damned ad, wondering when you’re going to build up some type of courage to text the number. “Oh, for all that is holy, just do it.” You grew tired of being scared so you brought out your phone and texted the number.

TO KIRI: Hey… I was texting about your ad about needing a third roommate and wanted to inquire about it, if you haven’t found anyone yet.

You thought about it again.. What if it was a scam? Oh, you literally brought your palm to your forehead, tapping it a times then halted when your phone buzzed. You looked at the screen, eyes widening in surprise because it was the number from the ad. You had your phone set to where you wouldn’t be able to see previews of your messages unless you unlocked it fully. You braced yourself for a ‘Sorry, we’ve found someone’ or something along those lines. You wouldn’t be surprised since it did take you forever to even act on this whole thing. You swiped left on the message, unlocked your phone, squeezing your eyes shut then took a deep breath. Your right eye slowly opened, eyesight adjusting to the brightness of your screen then falling amongst the words of this Kiri’s response. Your other eye shot open in shock, both your ears perking up.

FROM KIRI: Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Thinking to yourself, were you reliable? Of course, you were. Responsible? Absolutely. You worked at a local animal shelter, coincidentally. You worked more with dogs than cats, though, which came with the territory. Dogs obviously gravitated more to you given your natural wolf scent that only they detected with their sense of smell. Recently, you were moved into a management position so you were paid pretty well, which struck up this whole idea to be on your own, per se. Before you could think any further, did you work tomorrow? No, perfect. You rolled over onto your stomach on your bed, tail moving from side-to-side.

TO KIRI: Of course! That sounds great. There’s a coffee shop a few blocks from where I currently stay.. called Camille’s Cafe, not sure if you have heard of it or would prefer something else?

Were you coming off pushy? Demanding? At this point, you didn’t know and you were so nervous that it was driving you crazy but before you could go into panic mode— you got a text back, agreeing on the meeting place and everything. That was… easy.. almost too easy.. Either way, you were thankful they wanted to meet in a public setting in case they really were scammers. That’s when the thought had hit you.. What if they were guys? Kiri didn’t necessarily sound like a guy’s name.. did it? You laughed at your overthinking. No way these were guys.

With that, you looked at the clock on your bedroom wall, it reading 9:30 PM. You decided to go ahead and settle into bed to get enough rest so you didn’t look like a walking zombie when you met your potential roommates for coffee. You plugged in your phone to the charger and laid down, laying awake for an extra hour or so before drifting to sleep.

After a long day of getting phone call after phone call, text after text from different people saying they were interested in their ad, Eijiro and Hanta were close to giving up. Everyone who showed interest had some type of flaw about them, whether it be a bad history of paying rent on time or being an awful roommate in the past. It was becoming annoying, to say the very least. After denying everyone who reached out, Eijiro thought it was best to just block all the numbers to prevent further contact.

“Bro, I’m beginning to lose hope. We probably won’t ever find someone else to move in with us.” Hanta sat down on the couch in the living room with a sigh, kicking his feet up on the table in front of him. “Might as well talk to Kats about ditching that condo he’s in to move in over here with us.” They had thought about that a few times but even the slight mention of a roommate the first time, their friend, Katsuki, was the first to say not to even consider him because he valued his privacy. They didn’t press further because they understood and knew how he was.

Eijiro sat on the other end of the couch, directly across from Hanta, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees and his head on his hands. “You know exactly how that’ll go, Sero. I say the next person that texts us, we invite to coffee and really figure shit out. It’s been days since we posted that ad, and you know that we need the help we can get.” Hanta nodded in agreement then both their eyes shot down to Eijiro’s phone that lit up with a unsaved number, inquiring about the roommate situation. Hanta moved over to the same side as where Eijiro was to sit down once the red head picked up his phone to look at the message.

“Huh, look at that! It’s almost like this person heard you.” Hanta chuckled, looking over the message. “What do you think? Coffee?” Eijiro nodded then sent his first text out in response to the inquirer.

TO (YOU): Awesome! We haven’t really had any luck with anyone reliable.. so since that’s the case.. would you mind if me and the other roommate meet you for, say.. coffee? How’s tomorrow morning sound around 8:30-ish?

Sero scowled, “8:30 in the morning, dude? You really must be desperate because we sleep till like noon on our days off. That or you’re hoping it’s a girl.” He laughed then got up to circle around the furniture to head to the kitchen. “I mean, it might be a girl… and it might be good for us. Could teach us a few things.” Kirishima didn’t think about what all that last statement could entail but Sero, thankfully, didn’t catch onto it. “I guess so. Did they respond?” Just as soon as he finished asking his question, another text came through.

“How do you feel about Camille’s down the road?” Kirishima looked over to Sero who thought for a minute then shrugged with a nod, “Alright, yeah. I could go for one of her bagels. We haven’t seen the lady in a while so we should pay her a visit.” Camille was an older woman who had a heart of gold and loved both Kirishima and Sero. They always were such gentleman when they came in but they stopped going once the crime rate escalated the past few weeks.

“That’s true. I told the person it sounded great so. Let’s head to bed so we can actually wake up early and look decent instead of a mess.” Kirishima rose from the sofa to head toward his room. Sero called out, “Wouldn’t have to get beauty sleep at all if you didn’t schedule this meeting at the crack ass of dawn.” With that, Kirishima held out his arm behind him, giving Sero the middle finger. “Stop your bitching and go to bed, princess.”

Sero laughed and both settled into bed for the night. While one went to sleep pretty quick, the other laid awake, wondering who this mystery person could be. The thought of whether it was a female or not, really stuck to Eijiro’s mind. He had hoped that if it was, they wouldn’t be scared away by the fact that they’d be living with two guys should they accept the offer at all. Kirishima wanted them to be as comfortable as possible and that’s what he intended on doing and without noticing, he drifted into a deep sleep.

#eijiro kirishima x reader #Kirishima x reader x Sero #mha x reader #Hanta Sero #Eijiro Kirishima #Hanta Sero x Reader

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