#i think if i keep telling myself it’ll eventually stick
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i like astarion but only just a normal amount
#i’m normal about him#i think if i keep telling myself it’ll eventually stick#manifesting …#echo & lem don’t look at me rn#<//3#⁺. ʚ aims lore ɞ ⋆˙
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similar vein to that other ask but opposite, what do you think enoch and horace would argue about non trivially, like the worst disagreement theyve had
Oh good lord angst time. Buckle up kids today we’re going over why my friends yell at me. Fair warning this one’s also gonna be long
So there are two scenarios. One where Horace is the one hurt, and one where Enoch is.
I think whatever it is either way, it started small. I think generally they’d be good at communication, having picked that up from Hugh and Fiona, but it was, at the time, a small issue. It was not a stupid issue, because if it were a stupid issue it would turn into an argument about the argument itself.
The two things that made the first scenario significantly worse:
1. We have seen how Enoch is just in general. He has zero filter and he’s a jerk and sometimes it’s funny and sometimes he takes it a bit too far. I think, very similarly to myself, he can’t actually tell. He can tell when he’s hurt someone, but he doesn’t actually know what it was that hurt them. We’ve also seen him argue with people quite a lot, which leads me to believe he can be pretty volatile.
2. My headcanon for Horace being upset is that whenever he is, he gets in his head until he’s convinced himself that if he voices his concerns with whoever upset him (especially Enoch) he’s either going to be yelled at again and it’ll go nowhere or he’ll bother them more by bringing it back up and that combined with blaming himself for the whole thing means that eventually he just kind of shuts down. Stops talking. Waits for it to go away.
Normally, if I were writing them in this fashion (surprise surprise, I have a fic draft where I am,) Enoch would pester Horace about whatever he’s upset about until he fesses up, they talk it out, kiss a little, after an hour of trying to get this out of him it’s over in ten minutes.
However, if they were to get into a Big Actual Fight about whatever it was, I think Enoch would not have the patience to sit and deflect Horace’s “I’m fine/nothing’s wrong/you didn’t do anything/I’m just being stupid”s for as long as he usually has to. If Horace’s stubbornness wins out instead of Enoch’s and Enoch is both upset that Horace won’t ever fucking talk to him and doesn’t have near enough patience to keep pushing the issue to be able to have the information to resolve it, Enoch decides fine. If you’re going to be like this, then I’ll let you fucking be like this until you can be a fucking adult and actually fucking talk to me. Except that doesn’t come out like that, it’s Enoch, so it comes out as insults. Horace snaps back because the insults were uncalled for, Enoch snaps back because oh we’re doing this now, and neither knows who raised their voice first but now they’re both yelling. It gets messy. Someone gets called unreasonable, the other asks why he’s even still with him if he’s so horrible, the first asks why the hell he’d even say that when he knows why (the answer is he’s not, they’re both just pissed off and throwing words at each other to see what sticks,) it goes on for maybe twenty minutes tops. They get tired of crying and screaming at each other so depending on how bad they need one, one of them hugs the other and they actually talk about it or one of them goes away to calm himself down and process everything and then they hug and talk about it. Things are a little shaky for a while, but for the most part they’re just relieved it’s over and for some reason the other is still here and still loves them and isn’t leaving anytime soon. They apologized, they solved the issue by sitting down and talking about it, so for the most part everything’s okay now. There might be a day or so of walking on eggshells for fear of it happening again, but for all the hurt and all the shouting, chances are they don’t even remember what they were arguing about in the first place.
The important canon point and headcanon for the second option: Horace is shown in (at least my reading of) the books to be a bit of a people-pleaser. He does not like confrontation, he does not like upsetting people, he is too anxious and would much rather just Not Deal With That. Because of this, I am of the opinion that when he is in a particularly anxious mood or if he can sense that something is going wrong and he needs to fix it, he’ll make something up to hopefully dissipate the situation. (Think Dear Evan Hansen but on a lesser scale. It would not go farther than one person in this instance.) He knows it’s a terrible habit to have, and he is genuinely trying to fix it, but occasionally something slips out involuntarily and he feels horrible about it.
The biggest problem with that, other than the habit of being a compulsive liar: it doesn’t work. It works on people he doesn’t know, because they don’t know what his face means when he says something and then immediately gets even more nervous, but his friends and Miss Peregrine absolutely do. He knows they can tell and he is genuinely trying to fix it, so he just as quickly apologizes and corrects himself. It still hurts the other person, but it’s better than doubling down, which used to be how that would go because this all started to get himself out of trouble.
It hurts everyone involved and Horace absolutely hates that he does it, but the worst person he could do it to is Enoch. Because now his own boyfriend can’t fucking trust him and if there is one thing that pisses off Enoch more than pretty much anything else, it’s being lied to. And Enoch can and will call him on it. Immediately. Horace is doing his best to stop that from happening and chooses his words very carefully when he’s nervous in an effort to prevent it, but occasionally he gets paranoid that he’s done something Enoch won’t like and then he gets careless and forgets and then it’s just about getting out of this and uh oh.
When that happens, Enoch stops talking to him for a while. If Horace tries to say something, they fight about it and it’s an argument Horace cannot win because Enoch’s right. He should be able to trust and be honest with him, but for some reason he was scared enough to convince himself he couldn’t, and now Enoch can’t trust him. Once Enoch comes back from processing everything, they have a serious talk about why he said what he did and the thought process behind it and why Horace thought lying to him about whatever the completely innocent thing was would be a good idea and this cannot happen again. Horace understands and apologizes and tries to make up for it because that’s all he can do, and Enoch’s still upset about it for a while, but eventually he trusts Horace again and the issue is resolved. Neither of them feel good about the situation until it’s all but forgotten in a few weeks, after they’ve built that trust back up.
In writing this I realized that one can very easily lead into the other, so for all intents and purposes if we start with one and it becomes two, the argument stays two and two cannot turn back into one. It’s no longer about whatever actually caused it, it’s about the fact that now one of us is just saying things to appease the other and that habit happens to be the one thing that had it been literally anyone else that relationship of any kind would have been over.
Neither of these happens often. They are very good at communication generally, having been friends and best friends long before they were boyfriends, so 99.9% of the time if something happens that would cause an argument, they sit down and actually talk it out and it’s fine. This is just that .1% where it gets pretty bad. They understand each other better than even they think they do sometimes, so they come out okay, if not for a couple bad memories. They do talk about those bad memories sometimes as well, especially if it started with an insecurity of one of them, and they make sure that whatever it was all is forgiven and nothing is permanently damaged. If there’s damage left over, they talk about it immediately and do whatever needs to be done to resolve it. Neither holds grudges against the other.
#mphfpc#enoch o'connor#horace somnusson#enorace#oh god this was way longer than i thought it would be#my apologies i get very detailed when it comes to angst#dragon’s headcanons
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I have kind of a dark request? It's a modern setting but imagine everyone from like '88-'89 and Kirk and Lars seem like regular dudes (and they were roommates 👀) but they actually run a dark web streaming service where they torture people to death on Livestream at night and they abduct Dave (idk how they go about doing it maybe he's a prostitute or maybe they lure him there with drugs) and they use him for their Livestream BUT they see that this particular Livestream including him is getting much more views and money (because he's so pretty duh) so they decide not to kill him right away and keep him alive to use him for longer BUT they don't realize that James actually knows Dave so after like a week James starts complaining that he hasn't seen his 'friend' (👀) in like a week and he's worried and he shows them a picture of Dave and they're like 'Oh Shit' so now they have to decide if they kill Dave or let him go. This may be too much for a one shot request lmao. I just thought it was an interesting concept but I'm too busy to write it myself and also not as talented as you!
So I know this wasn’t next on my list to write but I couldn’t resist any longer! I just love this idea hahah. Thank you for the ask! I hope you don’t mind that I’m making it into a chaptered fic ❤️
PLEASE READ THE TWs!!!
𝐃𝐢𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 - 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏
Pairings: Kirk/Lars
Tw: torture, murder, blood, gore, violence, kidnapping, drugging
You can also read it here
“Please.”
It’s pleaded, barely there, blood bubbling between dry lips.
Kirk just smirks, digging the knife in deeper as he sinks it into the man’s side, hearing him cry out and writhe slightly in his restraints.
The boy doesn’t really have much strength left, not with how long Lars and Kirk have been playing with him.
Lars tuts, yanking the guy’s head back so that their eyes meet.
Kirk pulls the knife out, wiping it clean on his jeans before looking back at the clock.
They’ve been at this for five hours now, and he knows it’s probably time to call it quits.
He nods at Lars, who smiles, scratching his fingernails into the guy’s cheek.
“You’ve done so well,” Lars murmurs, though still loud enough for the camera in the corner to hear.
The guy shakes, flinching under Lars’s touch.
Kirk brings the knife up, holding it against the man’s throat.
Big, doe eyes plead with him, telling him to just let him go, but Kirk won’t. This guy’s worth too much to let go of now.
But still, Kirk hesitates. He can’t help but let himself get lost in the guy’s dark blue eyes, thinking of what this guy will be leaving behind. Maybe he had a family, maybe he’s got friends looking for him. Normally these things don’t bother Kirk, but something about this kid has him halting.
He hears Lars huff before the knife is pried from his hands, and he watches on as Lars plunges the knife into the centre of the guy’s neck.
The man splutters, bucking against the restraints, a thick gurgling noise pushed from his throat as blood starts to gush down his front. Lars leaves the knife in, and Kirk knows well enough that it’s probably because it’ll get them more money.
Lars bends, sticks his fingers in the pooling blood before gripping the man’s chin in his slick fingers. The guy continues to gargle, frothy, pink spit foaming from his mouth as arteries spurt, skin making a hissing noise. It goes on for longer than Kirk thought it would, but eventually the guy goes limp, head hanging backwards, the but of the knife still jutting out from his neck.
Lars is still holding the guy’s face, smearing blood over his cheeks, pries his slack jaw open, just to stick his fist in, see how far it will go. When Lars pulls his hand back out there’s blood up to his elbow and there’s tendrils of veins and sinew in between his fingers.
Kirk pulls the knife out just to hear that sickening squelching sound, the inside of the guy’s throat spilling out over pale skin, the structure of his neck buckling, slanting inwards.
Lars lets go of the man’s face, letting it whip backwards, mouth still wide open, before giving Kirk a brief smile, walking over to the camera to finish the stream.
Kirk wipes the knife on his jeans again, kicks at the body in the chair just to watch it jostle lifelessly.
“Woah dude, that was awesome,” Lars exclaims, hovering by the computer, blood splashed across his cheek.
“How much did we make?” Kirk asks, tossing the knife to the floor, fingers sticky.
“5 grand,” Lars says, triumphant, raising back up. “That’s two in a row now above 3.”
Kirk laughs, moving to pull Lars against him, their chests sticking together with drying blood.
Lars smiles, cupping his cheek with a bloodied hand before pulling Kirk into a kiss. It’s rough and brutal, but Kirk practically turns into goo in Lars’s grip, the metallic taste almost heaven on his lips.
“Did you get his name?” Lars says when he pulls away, breathless, tucking a piece of hair behind Kirk’s ear.
Kirk tries to think back. He’d found the guy in a bar, all bushy hair and full cheeks, and he’d gone along with Kirk easy enough, had followed him back to the house without any problem. He remembers when he’d bought the guy a drink, that he’d held his hand out, introduced himself.
“Jason,” Kirk says, squeezing Lars’s hips. “Pretty sure it was Jason.”
Lars flicks his eyes over to the body, nodding thoughtfully.
“Yeah he looks like a Jason. Write that on the wall.”
Kirk nods, glancing at the wall behind him. There’s an array of photos from their livestreams, some of them have names, some of them don’t. Kirk knows he should feel sick looking at such diabolical pictures, but all he can feel is pride. He and Lars did that, together, and they’re making money from it. Obviously, they’re not the only sick puppies in the world.
Lars lets go of him, moving to untie Jason from the chair.
“Are we burying him with the last one?”
Kirk shrugs, goes to help Lars untie Jason’s legs.
“May as well. We’re gonna start running out of room soon.”
Lars hums, lets the ropes fall to the floor.
“It’s a shame. I kinda liked him,” he says, thumbing across Jason’s limp cheeks.
Kirk unties the last rope before standing back up, tugging on his arms. They don’t budge, and Kirk looks down to notice that his hands are nailed into the chair, several iron points stacked together, welded and twisted into the guy’s hand.
“When did you use the nail gun?” he asks, pulling a bit on the nails.
“When you went to the bathroom,” Lars says. Kirk just pulls a face.
“What? I was bored,” Lars exclaims with a laugh, and Kirk can’t help but smile too.
He tugs on the guy’s arm twice, hard enough that it rips free from the hand nailed into the wood of the chair, blood gushing from the open wound where his wrist should be. Lars does it to the other arm too, and Kirk guesses they’ll just have to dispose of the hands separately.
“Well, guess it’s your turn to get the next one,” he says, because they always take turns to hunt down their target.
Lars grins, baring his teeth, blood dripping down his front.
“My pleasure.”
— —
They’re scouting out a new bar when Kirk spots him; their next target.
He’s a tall dude, taller than both he and Lars, long red hair flowing past his shoulders, face sour as he sits hunched over at the bar, obviously not really in the mood to talk to anyone. That always makes things difficult, but Kirk knows Lars is the best at persuading people to do things in his favour.
Kirk nudges Lars next to him, nods at the redhead at the bar.
Lars lights up, eyes raking over their new subject.
“Nice choice,” Lars murmurs, squeezing Kirk’s knee gently.
The guy looks strong, muscles bulging out of his arms, shoulders wide and jaw sharp. If this was a fair fight, Kirk knows the guy would probably beat both of them single handedly.
Lars passes him a small bottle under the table.
“Wait until I’ve got him facing the other way,” he says, and Kirk nods, pocketing the bottle, palms sweaty.
This is always the hard part, the hunting, the catching their prey. It’s always a risk, always hard for them not to get caught or worse, but at this point they’re pretty skilled in getting who they want to come with them. It’s just a knack they’ve managed to hone after many missed opportunities.
Lars gives him one last look before kissing his cheek quickly.
“I’ll see you in a bit.”
Kirk nods, watching as Lars gets out of the booth before sauntering over the guy.
Kirk watches as the guy doesn’t even look at Lars as Lars sits next to him, sitting as close as possible.
Kirk thinks at first that the guy’s not gonna take the bait, but then Lars is flipping his hair over his shoulders, giving his best smile, and the guy finally looks interested.
They talk for a while until the guy forgets about his drink, turning to face Lars head on now.
Kirk takes that as his cue, scoots out of the booth, careful not to trip on the table on his way out, holding the small vial in his palm, unscrewing the cap.
He walks in the direction of the toilets, but he purposely passes Lars and his companion, quickly dumping the contents of the bottle in the guy’s drink before anyone can notice, before heading into the bathroom.
That’s it, all they’ve got to do now is get the guy in the car. And then they’re home free.
Kirk goes to the sinks as soon as the door closes, splashes his face with some water to try and quell the heat that’s rising in his cheeks. He can’t tell if it’s from anxiety or excitement, but he doesn’t want people asking questions, so he tries his best to look nonchalant, practicing his face in the mirror to try and look stoic.
When he’s satisfied, he peeks back into the bar.
Lars looks past the guy, and gives Kirk a shallow nod.
It’s time.
Kirk approaches them, putting a hand around the guy’s back.
“Are you okay, man? You look like you’ve had too much to drink.”
The guy blinks at him, dazed.
“I don’t-“ the guy tries, but it’s slurred and quiet, and Kirk just shakes his head.
“Cmon, you can come back to ours. Get yourself cleaned up before you go home.”
The guy doesn’t protest, and Lars gets up to help Kirk pick the guy off the stool, guiding him out of the bar before anyone can catch onto what they’re doing.
The car isn’t too far away, but the guy keeps stumbling, and Kirk has to slug an arm over his shoulders to keep the man upright.
Soon enough though, Lars is unlocking the car, and they bundle the man into the back seat, careful to make sure he doesn’t hurt himself. No, he has to be in perfect condition. No one likes to work with damaged goods.
Lars turns to him then, slipping a hand around his waist.
“Well, that was easy,” he says, and Kirk laughs, bending forwards to kiss him softly. Lars still tastes like blood, but he always does these days. Kirk knows he’s probably no different.
“Did you get his name?” Kirk asks when he pulls away, moving to open the car door.
“Dave. His name is Dave.”
#metallica#metallica fanfiction#asks#my fics#die dead enough#dave mustaine#kirk hammett#lars ulrich#jason newsted#james hetfield#megadeth
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❄️ December Writing Challenge ❄️
Day 20. Ski Resort
Pairing: Jack Daniels x GN!Reader
Words: 655
Warnings: angst (I know its xmas, I'm sorry), Jack calls reader 'darling'
December Writing Challenge masterlist
Fingers swirl softly in a figure of eight up and down his neck, swiping the sharp line of his jawbone, disappearing into the slope of his tendons just shy of his collarbone. Up and down. It’s what he’s choosing to concentrate on. Not the dark clouds of regret, nor the whisper of their names, both of which are trying to infiltrate his mind like a whip cracking through air. Those fingers reach around to the back of his neck and pull him forward until foreheads are touching and two breaths are mingling.
Jack slowly opens his eyes to see yours, concerned and watching him carefully.
You’ve pulled Jack out of his mind before but this time is proving difficult. You’re surrounded by strangers in a ski resort halfway up a mountain, curled up on a beat-up, leather loveseat in a secluded corner of the resorts visitor centre. His hands are shaking where they grip onto your winter coat but he’s a lot calmer than he was.
You’d been taking a walk through the resort, Jack saying a cheery welcome to anyone who passed by. You were planning your day; breakfast at the old pub in the village, Jack was going to teach you beginners skiing in the afternoon, then back to the hotel to dress up for a glamorous dinner date at a French restaurant in the evening.
But something happened before you could even get to breakfast, a curious incident that saw Jack having a panic attack in the middle of the street and you ushering him into the nearest building to calm him down.
Jack can see the questions on your face, the worry in your eyes that were wet at some point, whether from tears or the snow outside he’s not sure. He wets his dry, cracked lips, thinks about what he’ll say, then settles on the truth.
“I did some terrible things in a past life. In a place just like this one. To good people. And I can’t ever forgive myself.”
You have no idea what he’s referring to, knowing only the minimum when it comes to Jack’s history.
He wants to tell you everything but is a coward in the face of your almost certain rejection. Selfishly, he never wants you to find out about the version of himself he’s deeply ashamed of. In a perfect world you’re only to know shiny, improved Jack 2.0 who’s learned from his biggest mistakes and knows how to be a better man. He’s aware relationships don’t last if secrets aren’t told, but these aren’t ordinary secrets and he really wants to hold onto them for as long as you’ll let him.
“Why did we come here if it’s only going to remind you of a bad memory?”
“I thought I was over it. Turns out I’m not.” He sounds disappointed in himself, shaking his head in frustration.
“Let’s go home, Jack.”
Jack blinks, imagines what home means; safety, a quiet mind, unequivocal peace. He longs to be back home.
“You sure, darling?”
“I’m sure I can’t ski.” That makes Jack laugh, a soft release of air that warms your cold face. You’re still huddled closely together, a few feet away from the reception desk and a disgruntled receptionist that keeps eyeing you both with distaste. You want to be like this but a thousand miles away in the privacy of your home, where you can fall asleep together and wake up in a better state of mind. You think about your hotel room in the village, how you’ll get back there eventually, Jack a little worse for wear but lighter in the knowledge that you’re sticking by his side wherever he goes.
“Talk to me,” you whisper, “when you’re ready I’ll be listening. But for now, let’s go home.”
Jack will talk, when he’s ready, and he can feel that it’ll be soon. But as you say, for now ‘let’s go home'.
#wwdilfcember#december writing challenge#agent whiskey#jack daniels#kingsman the golden circle#kingsman: tgc#agent whiskey x reader#jack daniels x reader#agent whiskey x gn!reader#jack daniels x gn!reader#pedro pascal
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Oh! For the mash-up trope ask- 53 and 70 for The Core?
53+70: Mutual Pining+Locked in a Room
Yes yes yes! Good. Excellent. Love it.
Gonna do a quick scaffold then see how excited the muse gets for actual writing.
So the boys are locked in a room. It’s big enough for the three of them but it’s definitely like a walk in closet or a trainers office. This is during training camp. One of the rookies/new guys thought it would be funny. None of the core are laughing.
Sid keeps banging on the door hoping someone will hear him. Kris has already tried texting for help but he’s got no cell service and something is wrong with his phone’s WiFi. Geno, is glaring at the wall in a corner. Eventually someone is gonna have to walk by and realize they’re in there. Or it’ll hit skate time, video review, or some other meeting, and people will notice they’re missing. The person will have to tell someone and he’ll have to let them out. They won’t be locked in here forever.
In the meantime, they’re locked in a room. Kris is annoyed because they should have locked Sid and Geno in a room together years ago (trust him, he and Flower discussed it) so they’d get over their pining, but why’d it have to include him? Kris is under the impression Sid and Geno got together after the 16-17 cups. They did. It didn’t work out.
Sid and Geno dated briefly during the 17-18 season, broke up sometime fall of 18, and have been on-again-off-again sometimes partners sometimes fuckbuddies ever since. They can’t stay away from each other but every time they give the relationship a shot it fizzles after a couple months. They’ve never lasted over a summer and it’s hard. They were in an off period during Geno’s contract negotiations which added a lot of stress. They do love each other and miss each other when they’re not together, hence the mutual pining on their end, but they haven’t figured out how to make it work in a way that sticks.
It’s been a longer than usual off season and they both missed each other terribly. Neither of them wants to suggest getting back together just yet because I do think it ended badly in the spring but the summer apart soothed their hurts and stirred up the pining so they’re back to missing each other. Both of them are trying very hard not to think about how that conversation is on the horizon, especially since they’re locked in a room with their close friend who they’ve never officially told they’re dating.
Fun fact about these two, they’re also both interested in Kris, which Kris doesn’t know. Idk if Sid and Geno have talked to each about their mutual attraction to Kris but it’s there, and it makes the feelings conversation harder.
Kris now, he kinda fell in love with both of them at different points in the last couple years. Between Flower and Duper leaving, stepping up into the alternate captain role, everything about the pandemic and the stuff after, he just ended up spending a lot of time with them organically and feelings started blossoming on his end. He’s not gonna act on it with his two friends that are together.
The time they spent is why he thinks they’re together. They never explained the breakups or makeups or any of the complicated relationship drama. They’ve never even told him they were together, Tanger just knows them well enough to pick up on it and what they stopped hiding.
Having said all of that I have no idea how this fic actually resolves. It’s been a hot minute since my brain wanted to juggle dialogue and I really should stretch myself to write it but it’s midnight and it’s a school night. I have to be up at 8am to go into work.
Sid bangs on the door. Geno snipes at him about it. Sid turns around to yell at him cause calling for help isn’t working. I think they go back and forth for a while and then Tanger makes a joke about getting a room or seven minutes in heaven in an attempt to diffuse the tension and accidentally gets both of them staring at him. They admit they’re not together. Tanger doesn’t know how to react to that. I’m not sure how the convo gets to the feelings admission. Maybe Tanger asks what happened and they have to explain?
I think during the convo Sid admits that even when they’re off he’s not seeing or sleeping with anyone. The one time he tried to hookup he just ended up missing Geno. Geno probably echos the same. It’s cute. Maybe the couple is back together. Maybe they even kiss. Idk.
I’m unclear how we get to Tanger confessing. Does he mumble something about wishing he could have been that rebound hookup that didn’t go anywhere? Does he say something about how he thought they were together so he never said anything? Does Sid try and echo his joke about getting a room and Tanger admits that he doesn’t hate it since it’s them. Idk. Somewhere in there Tanger admits his feelings, maybe before getting Sid and Geno back together, maybe after.
Either way both Sid and Geno are like wait you like me/us? Tanger wants them to forget it but when has Sid ever forgotten a thing once he’s set his eyes on it? When has Geno taken his eyes off the puck? Anyway I think they lock eyes and decide they’re seducing him, which they do. There’s maybe love/feelings confessions in there but there’s also a bunch of kissing and maybe some blow jobs so Kris can see how much they care for him as well. It’s a good moment. Geno suggests that maybe the reason him and Sid never worked out is because they didn’t have Kris. It’s the three of them on the ice, maybe they need the three of them off the ice to work too. Sid likes that very much and Kris just had an orgasm so he’s feeling pretty agreeable.
It’s still not until an hour after that that they get let out of the room. They have time to negotiate and plan their relationship. Also cuddles (geno gets cuddly after orgasms, not that he’d admit it).
#asks answered#veloz-me to#rpf mention#the core#sid/geno/tanger#it’s too close to bedtime to actually figure out the dialogue and write this but have a 500 foot view of what the thing would look like#it’d probably be Kris pov cause I’ve been vibing with his pov lately#my writing
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Hey Wiggs idk if you have any experience in storywriting but i really wanna introduce my own characters to the world but have no clue how. I can't draw to save my life and i'm too insecure about my writings i always delete the drafts. H e l p
STOP DELETING YOUR DRAFTS!!
Like I mean this in the kindest way, but how are you going to share anything you make if you delete it? Especially drafts, because the whole point of a draft is to serve as a stepping stone. How are you going to improve upon a story you no longer have? At the very least, make yourself a hidden folder and save it to that so you can pretend it doesn’t exist without actually deleting it. Or make a burner email or private account somewhere you won’t check often and copy-paste your drafts to it. There’s a butt ton of ways, but I recommend picking one until you’re comfy letting your drafts stay.
Cuz yeh I do have a bit of experience as a writer. I consider myself more of a visual arts person, but I do write a lot, both for college and for myself (and RPs with friends, which is also a practice option). And I started with writing stories years before I pursued art. Neither of which I was particularly good at when I started out. I’m not a savant-type lol, I had to practice and keep working at it. It’s like learning to play an instrument—nobody expects you play Bach the first time you pick up a violin, but if you stick with it, you can learn how to play Bach.
But you’re also gonna be your own worst critic, and you’ll also have to learn how to fight the gremlin in your brain that says you suck. Like if you think I’m a good artist/writer/whatever, know that I still have that voice that tells me I suck, and that I can’t draw or write for shit. There’s artists and writers out there that make me look like a baby by comparison, and they have to fight that gremlin too, because you can always do something better. There is no point at which you can no longer improve. But that’s also kinda cool because it means there’s no limit to what you can make, and no cap to how good you can get if you stick with it. As a creative, it’s both a blessing and a curse, but it takes time to appreciate the blessing side of it.
…weird ramble aside tho, I think you should also lower your expectations when it comes to drafts. Like I mentioned before, drafts are stepping stones. Sometimes my drafts are incoherent word vomit where I just throw up sentences and words as they come to me, or lists of things I want to have in a story. Drafts will never be perfect, and may not even be good, because they’re for sorting out your ideas and trying things. The point is to fuck around and find out. Give yourself permission fuck around. Maybe it’ll go somewhere, maybe it won’t. If you stick with it though, you’ll eventually start revising and honing it down, and it’ll sound more like complete story. Trust the process and give yourself permission to make mistakes. And if your end goal is to post it, figure out how to get it to a point where you’re okay putting it out in the wild. But ultimately, let yourself enjoy the process of creating, even if you think it’s flawed. Perfection is an illusion, so fuck perfection, and have fun instead.
Another thing I’ve found is that sometimes you just need to let a project sit (writing and drawings). I usually let art age a few days where I don’t do anything, and I don’t post it. It lets me come back to it with fresh eyes so I can spot anything I want to fix. But also I’ll dislike it less. Sometimes you just hate something because you’ve been staring at it for too many hours/days/weeks, and need to NOT look at it. Writing especially, sometimes I just need to walk away from a draft for a while, so that instead of being like “THIS IS ALL GARBAGE >:[” I can instead be like “I like the idea, and that last line is 👌, but this dialogue feels a little stale”.
Also if it helps, I’ve rewritten this ask 4 times now. I’ve been drafting, if you will I’mnotsorrylmao. And I’m certain there’s a better, more concise way to say what I want. But if I fixate on that, I’m never gonna post an answer to this ask, am I? And that would suck so much worse that this imperfect response lol.
PS: I know writing and drawing are super complicated and nuanced, along with all the feelings related to them, and there’s a ton I didn’t even touch on cuz otherwise I’d never finish writing this. But if you need any pointers or more specific help on how to start, feel free to ask or reach out.
#asks#anonymous#earwiggy rambles#i am by no means an expert#but hopefully some of this helps#but yeh unfortunately you have to make things to get better at the thing and it sucks lol#so many days I wish I could just snap my fingers and make art/writing happen#but instead it requires this stupid thing called effort and like your entire attention span#also I focused more on writing than drawing but I#defo have pointers for art. as someone that started with literal stick figures#a lot of art is also just drawing the same thing over and over lol#so you have to really like that thing (like drawing Jake’s stupid face for the 10000th time)
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Dear future self... December 26, 22
I figured I should give probably my last dear future self of 2022. So here’s a recap of my life as of today to remember and reflect on. As much as I know and remember this year very clearly and all the changes, I’m still excited to read back on the year and see what I’ve written.
Let’s start with my work because lets be honest, it’s been chaotic. I’m still working for YCH, surprise surprise. My replacement quit a couple weeks back so I stepped in again to pick up the weight and continue with all that I was doing before. I’ve been working roughly 3 days a week while still working “full time” with Ed. Which has also been pretty amazing so far. I’ve been learning a lot and it’s been a vast variety of jobs. I sat down with him Friday to review everything and see where things are going in 2023 and I’m excited. As much as I do love the variety and doing so many different things, I’m actually happy that we’re cutting back on the several different companies and scaling it back to only a couple. He’s burnt out and I really see it. I can’t imagine his workload and it’s refreshing that he reminds me that I do take a lot off his plate but I still feel like I’m constantly harassing him with these little things that I’m not sure how to answer. Regardless, we’re cutting back Havii, Qortex and eventually startups and that will be interesting. It’ll be exciting to work for GSU, honestly, the whole Organizational Development is mind-blowing and so intelligent that I really just hope to be learning this stuff along the way so I can apply it in my own life and areas. I really appreciate Chrystal though, even though I haven’t been hitting my “24″ hours a week she’s still been keeping me on benefits and man is that such a huge relief to not think about. Obviously the extra money is a big bonus as I’m really trying to set my life up financially and for my future. I recall one of my personal goals this year was to pay off my line of credit that Trav helped wrack up and have $5k in savings. I remember at the start of the year I thought that was pathetic. To have a $5k goal, thinking everyone should really have that as a back up at minimum but gave myself grace in understanding the ridiculous world we live in and the debt that everyone carries so I reassured myself that was a pretty reasonable goal for myself considering the $12k line of credit that still hung over my head at the time. I’m proud of myself that I’ve hit that goal. With being paid out from Travis (regardless that I got the absolute SHIT end of the stick here and fucked myself over but at least I’m done with that chapter), my LOC is paid off (again within reason as lawyer fees are damn expensive and I could simply pay the last $2k I put on it a few months ago but am hoping the payments will reflect in bettering my credit that Travis also fucked over royally). But with that being said, with working two jobs just about the entire year so far, I have saved up at least $5k in savings above paying off my LOC. As much as it’s exhausting working two jobs, I don’t know if I’d prefer it differently. Being able to put more money away to provide for myself and my future is my goal and if that means hustling now so that I can set myself up for later than really why wouldn’t I? I just still need to find the balance and take care of myself. - Working on that.
Relationship wise - that’s been a damn interesting one this year. I really deep down know I did make the right call with ending things with Richardt. As hard as it still is. Even the last day or two I’ve been catching myself wondering when he’s online, checking my messages in case he texted. I have to stop. I’m mad at myself because before when I had made my decision and leading upto when I was telling him that my decision was still in place a week later I had felt good. I felt like I was actually emotionally getting over it and had stopped waiting and wondering if he was going to text. Now that we’re “Friends” I’ve found myself going back into always checking on him and fuck do I need to stop. I cut soul ties this morning (should have done a while ago) and really just need to be praying to God that he helps redirect my mind everytime I catch myself thinking I need to check. It’s frustrating. That he tells me that he wants to talk everyday and “why can’t we? Id really love to” and now it’s like I wait for his messages or his replies and when he doesn’t my head spins into distrusting him. Man am I still so damn broken. Not trusting anyone. I went from actually trusting him probably more than I’ve trusted most or ever in a relationship for that matter, to now as much as he wants my entire trust now and to “get to know me” it’s almost like I trust him less. It’s probably anxiety and just creating stories in my head of what might be going on etc but it’s exhausting and I need to stop. I need to care less. I need to focus on God and sorting those distrust and broken spirit as a priority over any man. It sucks as I do feel lonely and I know I’ve somewhat done that to myself but I really hope that this next year will bring some new friendships, healthy ones, to build into.
Which this leads into friendships. I know I’ve sucked royally at being a friend this year, again trying to balance everything while understanding about being a Highly Sensitive Person has been a struggle to balance. It’s been too much for me and I know I’ve always been the one to have few friendships because I rather them go deep than go “wide” in multiple but I really crave that connection. I made one pretty good one with Amber the last few months. She’s really sweet and so much fun. We literally just talk for hours and it’s been refreshing that she’s put in effort into making plans.
As nerve-wracking as it is, I am going to reach out to the Young Adults group with church so that I can really connect with Christians. I really need that in my life.
Family - that’s been an interesting one this year. I felt real alone this year with our family dynamic dwindling. It honestly probably was the hardest year in having to deal with that. Almost reminds me back to when I left home and Steve reinforced that no one from the family talk to me. BUT I had prayed so much the last few months if I should reach out to Steven and finally when my mom said she reached out and he had responded, I felt that it was time. Thank Jesus for that. I’m honestly so excited to see them tomorrow night. I really pray that we can reconcile and start rebuilding our relationship because I’ve missed them the most this year for sure. My relationship with Meliss has had it’s moments. I still am concerned about her. She’s definitely struggled the last couple years and this last year has been really hard to watch with her. I should be praying for her more. Overall I’m happy and blessed that our relationship has really just gotten so much stronger this year. So many different things have brought us so much closer together. It’s like I keep wondering how we could get any closure and then we do and I’m just amazed and blessed.
Overall, I’m not exactly where I thought I would be at this time. Although, I also didn’t really look forward and think I’d be anywhere specifically and really had no idea what this year had in store for me anyways, but I guess I thought life would look a little different than what it is. It’s still okay. Doesn’t mean I’m not happy.
I am happy. I know a couple weeks back I said I wasn’t but the last couple weeks I’ve feeling blessed and happy that at least I feel that I’m moving back into the right direction again. As much as I can be upset with myself that I’m not farther along in several different aspects, I’m still proud of where I’m at today and how far I have come, especially through all the troubles and messes of this year.
I really want to focus on my relationship with God this next year. I want to get back into focusing on the things that bless my spirit. I did a lot of them earlier this year and I feel like because winter is here and I’m not outside enjoying nature as much that’s why I feel like I haven’t been doing anything I enjoy but I also want to focus back into drawing, reading and building those deep connections.
I’m excited for this next year. I hate making goals because I feel like it’s stupid to be making them at the end of the year and that you don’t need to wait for the year to be over to make goals etc. But I do want to take the time to reflect this week and see what kind of goals that I want to achieve and work todays this next year.
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Life is lonely
i actually don’t know why I am here and what i think i am doing...i just know I want to write a piece today. A piece of my heart, a piece of non-sense words I put together and that I can’t actually tell anyone.
Have you ever felt lonely? Like you are surrounded by people but no one to talk to because you need to weigh around whatever you spill. “maybe I am too much of a burden”, “don’t be such a cry-baby”, “let them talk too, you are not the only one with problems”, “no you can’t tell them about that, too personal maybe they will use it against you”, “no they cannot understand how you feel, what is the point in telling them”...i’m spiraling.
And day by day my life fills more with void, like i am digging my own grave, getting deeper and deeper and no one is or will ever be on the rescue. I tried so hard to trust people but they will just hurt me and i will just hurt them. My therapist told me that it’s good sharing your feelings with others and that it is a gift you willingly give to people but all i got in return was hurt, a kind of pain that burns in your guts and in your brain, too feeble to see but strong enough to work its way in your head devouring you from the inside. The result? I don’t talk anymore or, if i do, i regret it and i think about it for days. how stupid i was. How weak and vulnerable. But people need to talk to others, they need to share things in order to be lighter and fly. maybe i wasn’t born to fly, i tell myself. maybe i am different. But i hurt nonetheless.
It happened i was coming back from having drinks with my colleagues and i was feeling chatty and i wanted to talk to someone, I found myself with no names to tell Siri to call. I called 2 people, two of the people i loved the most but didn’t answer. “Duh they have a life too unlike you piece of shit”, they were out of course. Not like i could expect anything else, just because i was going home and that was one of the only evenings i had something planned in months doesn’t mean people suck like I do. I ended up calling my mom, just to tell her i was omw home.
Stupid. Clueless.
Loneliness is a shitty companion, i must tell you that. I feel like I could be someone to love but somehow I think it’ll hurt me more than how I do already. I cannot trust people to stick around, so better get strong enough to stand on my own two feet alone. But alone sometimes means being lonely. I’ve never understood the difference between these two words when i was little. “how come we have two different words to express the same concept: if you are lonely you are on your own just like being alone” but eventually I understood that there is a fucking difference. Lonely feels like you are on a boat lost in the middle of an ocean and there is no one out there but you, nothing that keeps your hopes up. lonely means you don’t feel sparkles. lonely feels like staying in your room for days in the dark watching people fall in love and give their hearts to their lovers while you cry because you know this is not what it’s meant for you (a bit too specific, you could tell that’s what i was up to these past few days lol)
lonely is asking yourself why you’re going on, why you are here, why we are doing all these things we are doing. lonely is asking yourself why you are the way that you are, lonely is hiding behind a great and warm smile that is the only thing people notice and care about. “I was wondering if that was another you” i was once told when a colleague didn't see me smile for a while. “what? haha - i laugh - sorry I was just focused on tiktok”
I was not. I was spinning in my head.
Have you ever felt lonely? Because i have.
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sun 30th oct 2022 journal 21:50pm.
today has been a good day. I’ve really enjoyed it. I went to see Francis and Natalie (& -Josh-housemate-) today. We went to Honest Burger on Portobello Rd. After walking around for like half an hour looking for a spot to eat we settled for an Honest Burger. I think I paid like £14.71 for my meal. It was decent but I wish I had more ketchup on my plate. The inconsistencies of the ketchup and mayo really let the meal down in my opinion. I had way too much mayo and not enough of that good shit. The burger could’ve done with some relish or chilli jam/burger sauce. I think the meals redeeming quality were the fries. I tried an alcoholic peach tea drink there too. I wanted to like it but couldn’t really grasp the taste fully. It also wasn’t cold enough for me. One thing I realised about Natalie today is that she talks a lot and by that I mean she talks about peoples business infront of other people and feels no way about it. It’s like she wants to bring out every memory she’s had with you individually to tell everyone who’s willing to listen. Albeit despite my reservations for this particular trait, she has quite an interesting life. But then again many people I know are interesting. Anyways. We then went back to Francis’ and he made edibles and we all sang happy birthday to Natalie and took pictures on a Polaroid camera. Nat said I could keep the one we took together. I plan on sticking it on my wall. the start of many more of those pictures. Francis also opened up to me about his experience with Ellie and Shona. And we talked third year stuff and he told me about this tomorrow technique he learnt from Anthony Quinn about how to tell a story with just your eyes (Very important for screen acting). I’ve had a really good day. Tomorrow is the start of Boudica’s rehearsals and I’m not gonna lie I’m abit anxious about it. It’s an early start tomorrow as well. I’m not dreading it but I’m not exactly looking forward to it but this is the life (for now.) I’ve been flirting a lot recently. Seeing the lengths a woman will go sometimes just to get your attention is interesting. A perk of being attractive? maybe? maybe not. I can feel my skull pulsating at the back of my head. It’s currently 22:08pm. I just had a meal and some popcorn. (chicken fillet meal + strawberry mirinda) I think popcorn is one of my new fav snacks. It just makes sense. Low calories and you don’t really get bored of it. I can support that. I wanna be asleep by 12 so I can get at least 7hrs in. Cause I know tomorrow will be a long day. I’ll eventually need to talk to Taneetrah. Tomorrow won’t be the day but one of these days it’ll be the day and when that day comes I’ll be the first and only to document it here just to say that I can do anything I put my mind too not matter how scary. Because I’ve done it before; many times. I can do this. I’ve also thought about Honey recently too. And Sid. And Mariam. I just hope tomorrow is good to me and I’m kind to myself this Rep. i mean I was kind to myself in the last one but this one is a different rep all together. I literally have to be strong(er) than I’ve had to be. I can do it but it really will not be easy. I’m now thinking about that Andre told me in Holland Park about speaking to Taneetrah. His voice looming in the back of my mind telling me to do the right thing. Haha. No but all jokes aside, he has a point so yeah I’ll be doing it soon. I know I’ll have to. Finally come to grips with it. Life. Life man. Life. I don’t know what I want to do with my last hour and a bit before tomorrow but I’m going to enjoy my night and enjoy this rest. Wake feeling ready for the day. I’m high as shit. But in a good way. I’m just way to focused nothing else has really changed. I’m here. Present. I want some head rn I can’t even lie. Ugh. Fuck this. Alright I’m out. I’m not angry by the way. This is internal dia.. I don’t need to explain myself 😂 I know what I mean. future me will know what past me is saying. Anyways sign out time : 22:20.
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Trash Heap Souvenir No. 0
Introduction:
Some folks say a magician should never reveal their tricks. But I’ve always found what’s behind the curtain fascinating. The more I learn about a favorite artist of mine the more I can understand their work. Love nerding out about that stuff…
“Did you know that the reason…?”
Sometimes collaborator and friend Ashlee Elfman was gonna work on an “Oral History of Blvd Du Cinema” book because the behind-the-scenes on all the no-budget stuff I’ve worked on, or how events in life shaped these ideas (domino effects), I think are a lot more interesting, and better, than the movies I make. But it fell apart. It was very ambitious.
So I’ve been toying with the idea of jotting down the history of my zero-budget productions. I’ve gone back-and-forth with it throughout the years— even doing a John Fante/Arturo Bandini sort of thing, changing names. But, eh, I’ve got nothing to hide (well, unless it involves a person who should get a fictional name). Besides, I used to write about my daily encounters on Livejournal (remember that) many moons ago. I always pull from the archives there and reshape incidents to fit whatever made-up story I’m working on. So is it really made-up after all? Hey, I did make a movie called JERRY POWELL that’s all about trusting perceptions, and more over, yourself. How much have we doctored our own memories?
Anyway. I like keeping records of things. And it’s also for any close friend’s sanity. Because I recount the same tales. Repeatedly. I think, as the past has proven, that once I jot something down, I never bring it up again. Besides, quoting a famed author, “I have nothing to offer anybody, except my own confusion.”
Bare with it, tho, if you care to read, ‘cause I speak in tangents just how my movies play out and I’m non-linear. Just know that it’ll all eventually come full circle.
“Please be patient,” says the impatient.
---
No. 1: 2002.
There we were on the 5-freeway headed south and it had just started to drizzle rain. Something was telling me to get off at the next Santa Ana exit, to go to my parent’s house and nab some more CDs for the road; all I had was New Order’s SUBSTANCE and it was a two-hour drive to San Diego. But I didn’t listen. Ignored intuition. It’s a double-album. We’ll be fine.
It was a few days after Halloween and I had just closed shop: Geez Louise. That’s where I had met Poul Johansen a few years earlier. Now I had inherited his gig and responsibilities at said store in downtown Fullerton: drop/pick up the register cash from the bank, open up, steam recent vintage clothing arrivals, keep track of inventory, ring-up customers, tidy up, close-up, you know, the basics. By myself. It was cool. I felt cool. Some nice responsibilities for a whatever-year-old kid. One time I even let a buddy sneak a keg into the dressing room and handed customers empty cups. But that was later.
I used to play a lot of Bo Diddley at Geez Louise. And girl group stuff. I love The Shirelles. Joey, the owner, one day came in and upon hearing the tunes I was serenating the place with joked, “What are we? A vintage clothing store?”
Joey had a stack of totally awesome albums in one of the counter drawers there too. Flipper GENERIC, Christian Death ONLY THEATER OF PAIN, Misfits EARTH A.D., it was the first time I heard all of those. I ripped them onto CD-Rs.
Anyway. There was this cheap digital camera around and I got the idea to dress-up in all the leftover Halloween costumes. I pretended I was dead and Poul snapped photos of me in a cape, head hanging upside down from the counter. Wish I still had those. I then got the even brighter idea—and I get those a ton ‘cause I’m reliably spontaneous and unreliable when it comes to sticking to plans– to hit up my friend Chynna and go visit her and her boyfriend Jon in San Diego. Why? I dunno.
“What kind of beers do you guys like?”
I’m glad she asked that ‘cause I sure wasn’t twenty-one yet and was too embarrassed to admit it, and this meant we weren’t going to hit a bar. Chynna liked Pabst. And Pabst she got.
Chynna’s pretty much the older sister I never had. I was (am) a big fan of her comic books, particularly Blue Monday, which, as the advertisement that drew me to it in the first place noted, was pretty much Archie but with mods, punks, and rockers. I was blown away. I looked at the poster drawings in the background of the ad’s panels. These kids were listening to the same shit I was listening to! No way! I hardly knew anyone into the same things. I was pretty lonely. I wrote to her a gushing email* in which I quoted Ren n’ Stimpy (“Your grandmother sucks eggs!”).
*The email was later printed in the back of one of the issues of Blue Monday.
That got a laugh out of Chynna, and soon we became internet friends (AOL chat). A few years later I met her in person. She invited me to her birthday party in SD which revealed a very small world coincidence, the first time I maybe truly experienced something like that, but if I keep talking about it I’ll never get back to what I was originally saying…
So. Oh, yeah... Poul and I hit the road. In our costumes. And because my memory is a bit frazzled still from the terrible thing that was about to happen, I can’t remember if he was or if I was the one wearing the rainbow-colored clown wig. I’ll never know.
We were near Oceanside. And the cars on the road began to gradually slow down. It’s getting a bit dark now, and the rain is coming down heavier but it’s not pouring, you know? I went into the slow lane. It was clear. Well, save for one car a bit up ahead. And all of a sudden that car just quickly hops over into the right shoulder, as if it could literally hop over to the right. I squint my eyes at this large lump of clothing lying up ahead on the road. That’s what the car in front of me had avoided. What am I looking at here? And as Poul and I speed closer to it, we both drop our jaws, and I yell out, “Oh! Shi---”
Cut off. I didn’t finish my short sentence.
I don’t know which way I swerved. But it was like the movies. Slow-mo. We were spinning on the highway. 360. In circles. I’m seeing headlights, I’m seeing the rain drops on my windshield. My head jerks to the right. BASH!!! We crash right into the center divider.
BLACK.
I’m on the highway. Walking. Blood or rain, or maybe I imagined either or both, like a curtain over my eyes. I was swaying. I look and I see scattered blurry VHS tapes all across the lanes. I stumble.
BLACK.
I’m in an ambulance. I’m on my back. I’m trying to sit up. But I can’t stop talking. I’m wearing an Eater shirt, by the way. The ‘70s UK teen punk band. One of my favorites. I’m asking the paramedic what his favorite punk bands are. He’s keeping me conscious, telling me he loves The Stiff Little Fingers. I laugh loudly, “Stiff Little Fingers are awesome!”
BLACK.
I’m staring at what’s possibly the ceiling of an emergency hospital as I’m wheeled down a hallway.
BLACK.
I look up from a bed. I see a worried Chynna.
BLACK.
(I think) there’s my mom. And Luis, my brother.
What the hell happened?
The car had been hit from every direction. It was a Daewoo. A burgundy Daewoo. My first car. I picked that color ‘cause that was my girlfriend-at-the-time-of-purchasing’s favorite color. When my dad learned that he gave me this look. Not a bad look. Just one of those, “Of course it is”-sorta looks. It was a small car. And in that car I got to know the entire Beatles discography, and Bowie’s HUNKY DORY (and SPACE ODDITY), and the Psychedelic Furs’ TALK TALK TALK. And I bring to mind being stuck in traffic as on my delayed way to go visit that girlfriend (Amanda #1) who lived in Fullerton. I was driving from Costa Mesa where I worked as a truck-to-floor clerk (basically one of the people that got to Borders Books at six in the morning to pull the new stock from the storage rooms and put them on their respective shelves). This was quite a hike for me on that sardines-in-a-can 57-freeway going from Costa Mesa to Fullerton, listening to The Verves URBAN HYMNS on repeat. To this day, when I hear that album, I see myself on the 57-freeway in red break-light-flooded traffic as the afternoon turned into night. But now this car was an accordion. If anyone had been sitting in the backseats, they’d be dead.
This kid Aaron, the first person to get me drunk on scotch, not wasted, but drunk, and the first person to give me my first bump of blow, bragged that he decided at the last minute to not join Poul and I, and that he for sure would have bitten the dust in that accident had he. I’d squint my eyes. He had never even been invited on this impromptu San Diego trip. I Iooked up to Chynna. There’s no way in hell I would have invited Aaron out there. Aaron was one of the first in a long line of people I’ve met who wanted to share credit on something they had nada to do with.
But it was a dead body. There was a dead body on the road. In that slow lane. Before we had crashed, Poul and I had passed one of those big yellow illegal immigration crossings signs that used to appear on the freeway whenever you were nearing the Mexican border. I think they’re gone now. So, this could have been an illegal immigrant that had been crossing the freeway, had gotten hit by a car, and was now just there, dead. I still see the dude. He was on the ground, profiled, facing up, as if in a coffin; the lane, a funeral home. And he was about sixty (?) with salt-and-pepper-hair and beard and maybe a grey suit. I mean, I couldn’t believe my eyes. And I know I wasn’t seeing things because Poul saw him too.
So, what I did was immediately swerved to avoid him, lost control of the car, got hit every which way but loose, and crashed. The VHS tapes all over the place were gifted to me by my sister-in-law when she closed her second-hand shop. They had been sitting in my trunk since who knows when. Now they were decorating the highway. One of the tapes my eyes landed on before I passed out was BACK TO THE FUTURE PART II.
Poul and I had smashed our skulls together. And I had a brain hemorrhage. I was dead. But I’m stubborn and eventually got up.
“You never got me down, Ray.” – Jake LaMotta in RAGING BULL.
Just a few days before this, I had gotten fucked up with this trio of dudes I hung out with. We were all tragic figures of some sort. Well, they were. I just romanticized tragedy. They were Peter K, Lloyd L, and that Aaron dude. Actually, the only tragic one was Lloyd who had lost his sister recently, wore the word “sad” on his shoulders, and was now doing drugs and Hi-Ho Silver’ing while at it. These were the guys I hung out with all.the.time. The people that got me out of the house like no one else could when I’d be working on this one script. A script I wanted to make into a movie and then a comic book and then completely abandoned but not until after actually finishing it. See, that was the thing. I was like I’m never gonna feel accomplished unless I actually, you know, uh, accomplish something. A.k.a. finish whatever the hell I work on. I’m sure even someone older and wiser had told me that shit, “Just finish it.” I had two completed movie scripts down, man. The first one took me forever but now I was on a roll…
…I would watch black-and-white Godard movies all day. And ‘60s spy movies. And got really into both Seijun Suzuki’s TOKYO DRIFTER and BRANDED TO KILL which I’d watch on repeat, taking notes (one time I put on TOKYO DRIFTER at Poul’s house and he, a film aficionado and former aspiring filmmaker, went, “Where do you find all these cool movies?” The Criterion Collection, Poul. The Criterion Collection. But I didn’t say that.) And then I would work on my story, which was inspired by everything I just mentioned…
It was about this aspiring musician who couldn’t get a break and meet the right people to form a band and in shopping around for like-minded folks winds up getting swept up in this totally groovy spy plot that was a tribute to pop art, all the ‘60s go-go stuff I was into (I was an aspiring Mod with no money to spend on the attire—but oh, how did I try), glam rock, X-Ray zap guns, teleportation devices, and spirals ‘cause I have an obsession with black-and-white-spirals. I called it (badly) THE SECRET NOIR (“The Secret Black? Really?”). I recently found the script. Not the movie script, mind you, but the one I had adapted to be a comic book. Thought I had lost both. That rickety-old PC I typed my fingers off on as a teen had crashed. And those floppy discs? Who knows where they wound up. I still dream of making that story into a movie. I kid myself, “If I ever have a big success, that’ll be the movie I make next! It needs a big, great budget!” I mean, I wrote this whole scooter chase sequence cut to “Friday on my Mind” by The Easybeats. There ain’t no compromise here. ‘Cause that’s all I ever do: COMPROMISE.
But every night the trio would ring me up. I’d book it from the house, hop in a car, or got into my own car and we’d roam the streets of Orange County, California (and sometimes LA).
Peter and Lloyd were already friends. And I had worked with Peter at the Boarders I mentioned. Aaron, I knew from The Block, this outdoor mall where, in 1999, a bunch of rando punk kids I wish I’d been friends with hung out. He worked at the Van’s Skate Park there and rolled up on me once when I was wearing a Subhumans tee. He showed me his Subs tattoo in return-- similar to the one I’d get later in Atlanta. Now he had ran into me while I was working at Geez Louise. But he looked different. No longer dressed like an anarcho-punk, but still missing teeth ‘cause they’d been kicked in at a hardcore show or whatever the hell he had said. Now he was dressed kind of sharp. Button up. Nice pants. In all black. He told me he worked down the street. At the In-and-Out Burger on Harbor. What?
“Dude, you know they’re all Christian? There’s bible verses at the bottom of their cups.”
One of my friends growing up, Deez, his cousin worked at an In-and-Out as an entry-level manager and made bank. And I’m talkin’ bank for a teenager. They take care of their employees. $18 bucks an hour in 1999? You kidding me? “If you don’t go to college, you’ll be flipping burgers,” I heard the old-folks saying. Well, that motherfucker makes more money than you do on retirement. I figure Aaron’s doing alright.
On a lunch break I go over there. I see Aaron outside the entrance, back in his dirty punk clothes. He’s spanging, suckering customers to give him change. He tells me he’s made over fifty dollars in a couple hours. He says let’s hang but, “Let me get out of my dirty work clothes.” Aaron goes inside the In-and-Out restroom. Few minutes later he comes out looking all spiffy, shiny, and new; his punk ‘drobe stuffed into a bag.
The rest I’ll skip ‘cause I don’t remember how the four of us all actually started hanging out together. But one night we jumped this grade school’s fence and Aaron offered us blow. I’m pretty sure it was everyone’s first go. I mean, I had only smoked weed once at this point. This stoner friend of mine named Angie who I went to Santa Ana Middle College with (at sixteen), and who had gotten me into The Doors and The Misfits and The Smiths (her three favorite bands), always encouraged me to smoke weed with her. But, nah. I kind of grew up in a bubble, or my own universe of invention, and I was content with my movies and my music and my comic books, and, well I didn’t want my parents to wig the fuck out (again; more on that later). Plus I had all this Catholic guilt. But screw this. I was in a band. I was never at home anymore. My dad and I had stopped trying to kill each other all the time mainly ‘cause I just made sure to avoid him by celebrating my last couple years as a teenager being out with friends and experiencing goddamned things instead of just learning about them from a television screen.
“If I ever catch you with marijuana, I’ll kick you out the house!,” my dad would yell.
Well, he never said anything about cocaine...
We all did huge key bumps. SNIIIIIIIIIIFFFFFFFFFF! SNIFF! SNI—II-FF! SNIFF! SNI-- whuuuuut… the fuck. This thing going down my nostril, dripping into my throat, making my mouth all numb. What is—ohhh, I gt it. Aaron later became ours and everybody else’s coke dealer. I think we all had equal addictions because of this. But days before the big crash – ha-ha, I’ve never referred to it as that, but it may stick—we’d all gone to someone’s place. It’s all foggy now, but I had ripped for the first-and-only-time cocoa puffs. Basically, weed peppered with coke out of a bong. When Peter took a rip, I couldn’t stop laughing. He thought he was on fire and ran outside of the house screaming. We had to calm him down.
So now I was all paranoid…
Oh my God. The hospital is running blood tests. This shit’s gonna show up in my system. They’re gonna know about all the fucking drugs I’ve been doing. My parents are gonna know. Oh, man. I am so fucked. Or was I? I mean, I think my parents at this point were realizing that I was way different from my much older brothers (we’re talking about 20+ years difference) and that since I’m the first one born in the states that, well, dealing with me was gonna be a little bit different and that I took no advice and kind of did what I wanted without permission. I had already been arrested at fifteen. But I graduated out of high school two-years before due date, so they couldn’t hold anything against me. I also always used the band as an excuse: “I’m going to practice in Ventura.” That was usually a two-to-three-day venture. I had a job (I always had a job, since the age of twelve or thirteen). I paid for my own things. I didn’t drink. What’s there to worry about?
If anyone found out anything about any drugs, no one mentioned a word. They were totally devastated because of the accident. But I’m far from a hypochondriac and someone that can’t handle too many unnecessary restrictions so I couldn’t be in that hospital bed any longer. Against the medics’ wishes, I ripped off whatever IV bags were stuck to my veins, got up, got dressed and my mom took me to the junk yard. I can’t even describe my car’s make-over.
Poul thought I had died. He said when he saw me being carted into the ambulance he thought, “That’s it. He’s gone.”
Months later, during band practice, Poul abruptly stopped drumming and let out a huge scream. That’s when he learned he had cracked his ribs in the accident.
He had said, “My cousin’s a lawyer and she basically said the only person I can sue is you, which I’m not going to do.”
“Can we sue the car manufacturer?”
“Why?”
“The air bags never ejected.”
No one did, tho. Or if someone did, I never caught wind.
One thing, tho. One thing. There was one miraculous thing that happened here. Before the accident I had a limp. I walked all funny. And now? If you could believe it, could walk just fine.
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inspirational ~ corpse husband
word count: 1589
request?: yes!
“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a corpse husband imagine where the reader has a feeding tube? If you can’t that’s perfectly fine, I just haven’t been able to find one yet.”
description: in which the group plays with a popular streamer that has a feeding tube and corpse tells her how much she inspires him
pairing: corpse x female!reader
warnings: swearing, mentions of chronic pain and cancer, also i only know a little bit about feedings tubes, i tried to do research in order to make myself more familiar but if there’s a lot of inaccuracies or anything i am very sorry i’m gonna try my best
masterlist (one, two)
Corpse listened to his friends shouting at one another to accuse each other of being sus. As usual, there was no use in trying to get a word in. Corpse spoke so softly that no one would even hear him unless they wanted to hear what he was saying.
“(Y/N)!” Toast suddenly exclaimed. “You’re being very quiet right now.”
“Because my damn tube is mixed up in my headphone wires!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sounding like she was far away from her mic. The group chuckled and continued with their conversation about who they thought the imposter was.
(Y/N) was a known Twitch streamer and YouTuber that rose to popularity when she started a series on her YouTube channel to show her journey through cancer treatments. Long before his own sudden boom in popularity, Corpse had watched all of her videos and became invested in her Twitch streams as well. Being someone who also struggled with chronic illness and pain, Corpse felt a sense of hope watching (Y/N) go through her treatment and still seem to optimistic in life and so productive in her YouTube and Twitch channels.
When Toast messaged the Amigops group to ask if anyone wanted to join his Among Us lobby with (Y/N), Corpse jumped at the chance. He hadn’t had much time to speak with her alone, but he was hoping to be able to tell her how much watching her content lifted him up during his worst times.
The meeting ended with no one being voted and brought them back to the office of the Polus map. Since they were playing with proximity chat, the argument from the meeting immediately continued with Rae and Toast warning everyone to stay away from Sean, who they were susing at the second imposter after already voting out Charlie.
Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink astronaut run out of the office, silent amongst the chaos. He waited a moment before deciding to follow her, hoping he could meet her somewhere alone so he could talk to her.
He ran into O2 and noticed a pink bean in the boiler room stood by the water wheels. He ran in and stood in the doorway a moment before speaking.
“Hello (Y/N).”
“Ah fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Corpse! Don’t scare me like that!”
Corpse chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll warn you next time.”
“Are you here to kill me?”
“Maybe.”
“I’m okay with that. I feel like being killed by Corpse Husband in Among Us is like a rite of passage at this point.”
Corpse slowly approached (Y/N) to which she quickly ran away from him to the other water wheel. He laughed again before assuring her, “I’m not an imposter, you can trust me.”
“I don’t think I can, but I will choose to trust,” she told him.
“I actually came looking for you because I wanted to talk to you.”
“What did you want to talk about?”
There were so many things running through Corpse’s mind. He just wanted to blurt out everything he had thought about (Y/N) and her story, to thank her for giving him hope, to tell her what an inspiration she was. But his words caught in his throat and he struggled to get anything out.
Finally, he said, “What’s it like trying to be a streamer with your...with the um...”
“The feeding tube?” (Y/N) finished for him. “You can say it, Corpse. It’s not exactly a secret.”
He sighed, glad that she had a joking tone about it. “Yeah, with the feeding tube.”
“It’s annoying,” (Y/N) admitted. “Like...I’m assuming you’ve seen my streams or my videos but for the sake of anyone watching your stream who hasn’t: I have a nasogastric feeding tube, or an NG-tube, which is a feeding tube that goes in through the nose. As cliché as it is, just picture Hazel Grace from the Fault in our Stars. Additional cliché, I have it because I had cancer and the treatments left me so malnourished that I need a feeding tube even after I’ve gone into remission. So, because it’s tubes that are connected in my nose, I keep getting my headphone wires tangled in my tube or, very rarely, my mic wires, and it’s fucking annoying. It hurts like a bitch when I go to stand up and I yank the wires by accident or something.”
“Does...does anything else hurt? Because of the cancer or the treatment or anything?”
“Not as much as it used to. I went into remission like nearly a year ago, so I’m doing better. It’s a process, but it’s had an amazing outcome in the end so I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“I find you really inspirational,” Corpse finally blurted.
He felt his face heat up with slight embarrassment as (Y/N) giggled. “You do?”
“Yeah. I followed your series about your recovery and I’ve watched some of your livestreams every now and then. What always stood out to me was when you talked about the negative side effects of your treatment, and eventually having to put the feeding tube in and how you’ve found that effects you, too. Being someone with chronic illness and constant pain, I’ve also had those days where it feels like even getting out of bed is too much work and I don’t feel like I can stream or make a video, but then my anxiety tells me that everyone is going to forget about me if I don’t make some type of content, so it’s just an internal struggle when really I should be resting.”
“Being a content creator and having an illness is tough,” (Y/N) agreed. “It feels like you can’t take a day off. I sometimes regret making that series because on days that I felt absolutely awful, I didn’t want to film or edit anything, but I felt like I had to because so many people were watching. Ironically enough, that became the topic of one of those videos; I just sat in front of my camera looking the worst I think I’ve ever looked on camera and talked about how exhausted I felt just from being alive, but felt like I couldn’t rest because of my channel. That’s when I started taking longer breaks between videos and streaming. Your fans won’t leave you, not the true fans anyways. They’ll always be by your side even if you decide to disappear from the Internet forever.”
Corpse half smiled to himself. “I’ve thought about doing that sometimes.”
“It’ll be easy for you to do that where you’re faceless. No one would bother you even after you left the Internet cause they’d have no idea it was you unless you spoke.”
A brief pause in their conversation caused them to hear Sean yelling as he ran past the room. (Y/N) giggled and walked out of the room. Corpse followed, hoping to continue the conversation somewhere else.
“It means a lot to me that you think that about me, though,” (Y/N) continued as she ran into the storage room. “I find you pretty inspirational too.”
This took Corpse by surprise. He didn’t know how to respond. Sure, he heard that all the time from his fans, and it always meant the world to him to know that people found him to be an inspiration, but it felt different to hear that from someone he had looked up to for so long.
“I wish I could’ve been a faceless creator like you,” she said when Corpse didn’t respond. “One of my biggest regrets is probably showing my face online. Although, it wouldn’t make sense for me not to show my face when I’m making a series about cancer treatment, but people can be mean. Even when someone is struggling with illness or a disease, the Internet doesn’t care. Whatever makes them feel better over someone else feeling like shit.”
“I still get a lot of hateful messages even though I’m faceless, though.”
“You do, but you’re so unbothered by it. Publicly anyways. When I get messages about how sickly I look I get so overwhelmed with sadness and I just wanna delete my channel forever. I can’t even fake not caring because it really does effect me.”
“Stick with me, I’ll teach you my ways. My favorite is trolling the troll.”
(Y/N) chuckled. “I’d like that a lot.”
Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink bean approach his black one. “I’m glad we had this chat, Corpse. It made me really happy, but now it also makes doing this a lot harder.”
Corpse gasped as a kill animation popped up on the screen and (Y/N)’s astronaut quickly disappeared into the nearby vent. He was stunned into silence for a long time, just watching his ghost floating above his dead body. To make matters worse, (Y/N) had closed the door to storage so no one would find his body unless they had to go in there.
Charlie’s ghost floated through the walls and came to float next to Corpse’s. “Figured out Jack wasn’t the other imposter, huh?”
“Yeah,” Corpse said, laughing. “She really had me fooled. Buttered me up with compliments then killed me.”
“I taught her well,” Charlie comments before floating away again.
Corpse couldn’t help but laugh about the situation. He wasn’t mad, more impressed than anything. And he was a little happy; he got to talk to someone that had always been an inspiration to him and he made a new friend.
#corpse husband#corpse husband imagine#corpse husband x reader#corpse#corpse imagine#corpse x reader#imagine#one shot#request#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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Hey!! If ur comfortable with this could u maybe do cherry blossom and joe for sk8 with a s/o that has adhd and is often forgetful
kaoru sakurayashiki x gn!reader, kojiro nanjo x gn!reader
a/n: sure thing!! I don’t think I’ve written for either of them yet, so I do hope it turns out alright-! Thank you so much for requesting!!
The way just listening to the Sk8 into and outro gets me prepared to write for it aaaaaah, it’s so good,,,, those are 2 songs that never fail to make me happy;;;
Benekejdjd I also just realized I call Cherry by his real name, yet call Joe his S name,,,, oh well KSNEKDNDJ sorry for my inconsistency 😭✌️
warnings: none <3
word count: 916
Cherry Blossom/Kaoru Sakurayashiki <3
Honestly? Kaoru is wonderful to be in a relationship with when struggling with forgetfulness.
He’s naturally pretty good at remembering things, but he’s also an avid fan of AI- so, you have both Kaoru and Carla to remind you! Just tell him something important, or something small you feel like you should remember, and he’ll be telling Carla to remember it as well. Human minds are flawed, but Carla surely won’t forget!!
Now, if you forget before telling him/thinking to tell him, he’ll be as calm and understanding as ever.
He isn’t exactly sure how to jog your memory sometimes, but he will do the whole “retrace your steps” thing. Tells you to go back to the other room and enter this one again- try to figure out what you were thinking about beforehand. Maybe being back in the other room will help…?
Or, if it’s during a conversation, and you forget what you were about to say- just tell him you forgot, and he’s calmly listing off things about the conversation. Keywords, almost? Facts about a story one of you just told, words that stick out, etc.
As frustrating as forgetting can be, Kaoru has patience to make up for it. He doesn’t mind doing his best to help you, you’re his s/o after all. If he’s patient and loving (in his own way) towards the kids’ antics, he’s going to be just the same towards you.
If you express your frustration, he isn’t quite sure what exactly to do. He can handle practical things- reminding you, helping you with tasks, but emotions are a bit different.
Despite that, he will try to help. Not out of obligation, but because he genuinely cares, and genuinely wants you to know it’s all right.
“Ah… there, there, (Y/N). It’s completely understandable to be upset, but it’s alright to be forgetful. That’s what I’m for, isn’t it? Why else would you have a boyfriend such as myself, with an assistant such as Carla? If it’s something you can’t remember, it will either come back to you because it’s something you should remember- and, if it doesn’t, I’m sure it wasn’t too important in the first place.”
Doesn’t exactly know how to deal with crying either, so if you do get frustrated to a point of tears, he’ll kind of… pinch your face? Not harshly, but enough to get you to focus on him instead. Once he has your attention, he’ll give his little spiel.
Of course, he isn’t heartless- he’ll comfort you however you need him to. Hugs, kisses, etc <3
“(Y/N), wouldn’t a kiss be more likely to distract you from what you want to remember?”
“It’ll distract me ‘cos I’m upset that I can’t remember..”
“Don’t pout- I’m not denying your request, just questioning your methods a bit.”
Joe/Kojiro Nanjo <3
Joe may not be as effective as Kaoru, but he does try as hard-!!
He may be charismatic and confident, but he’s still a loving boyfriend. He wants to help you in any way he can, and if memory is the way he should help, then he’s on it!!
He has to have decent memory, he works at a restaurant after all? He’s bound to be able to remember orders and recipes, so things that you need him to remember isn’t normally a problem!
Just to be safe, he keeps sticky notes around! On counters, he even has a few set in the kitchen- just in case you walk in, telling him to please remind you of a certain date or something you need to do! He’s pausing whatever he’s doing, if it can be paused, and writing it down, giving you a sweet “got it, baby!”
When he’s not able to see you in person, he doesn’t mind you sending him texts! He’ll write it down just the same, set a reminder in his phone- or, if it’s important enough, or he’s worried he’ll actually forget as well, he’ll (ask?) tell Kaoru to set a reminder on his little machine assistant.
(“She has a name, you idiot gorilla. I’ll do it for (Y/N)’s sake, of course, because they actually remember Carla.”
“Ah, I remember. I just don’t care-“
“You’re on thin freaking ice.”)
If you walk up to him, opening your mouth to say something, then shutting it- your eyebrows furrowing to try and get yourself to remember- he’ll also be very patient. (He’ll also find your expression strangely cute, as if everything about you isn’t.)
“What were you doing before you came in here? Watching anything, searching for something?”
He’s not as great at jogging your memory as Kaoru is, but he certainly won’t give up. Heck, he’ll walk around the entire house with you, or go to the room you were just in. Pointing at things, trying to list anything that may be a keyword- any way he can try and help!!
Now, if you get frustrated because of your forgetfulness, he can handle it a bit better than Kaoru.
If you start to cry, or even if you just need a hug, he’s hugging you, patting your head carefully. Buff gorilla though he is, he’s a loving buff gorilla who definitely gives good hugs (and kisses)!
“Don’t cry, (Y/N), it’s alright. I know you’re frustrated, but I’m sure it’ll come to you eventually. You don’t need to be upset with yourself just because you forgot. It’s not like you chose to forget, so don’t get too worked up… it’ll all be okay, I promise <3.”
#anon#headcanons#x reader#gn!reader#x gn!reader#sk8#sk8 the infinity#cherry blossom#joe sk8 the infinity#kojiro nanjo#kaoru sakurayashiki#sk8 x reader#sk8 the infinity x reader#cherry blossom x reader#joe x reader#kojiro nanjo x reader#Kaoru sakurayashiki x reader#joe headcanons#cherry blossom headcanons#Kaoru Sakurayashiki headcanons#kojiro nanjo headcanons
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Could you repeat the question?
pairing: Taehyung x reader, oc x Yeonjun (TXT)
premise: a joint interview with your group, BTS, and TXT two months after you met your soulmate.
word count: 2k
[2/2] continuation of Can’t Keep My Hands To Myself
requested by anon - a picture of your request will be at the bottom of the post!
------------------------------------------
“Please don’t tell them.”
“Me? Why would I say anything?”
“You...you have that look.”
Yeonjun whirls around to face Taehyung, who just entered the room. “Do I have a look?”
Taehyung winks at you in greeting, something that nearly makes you swoon and your group members snicker.
“A look?” He frowns for a moment before giving his dongsaeng a pitiful smile. “Oh yeah, you do. Definitely.” Taehyung smiles at Jiwoo, my band member who is busy sending death glares at her soulmate. “He’s gonna spill it.”
Yeonjun jumps up from his seat at the same time Taehyung settles down beside you, placing his arm on the back of the couch and brushing your hair off to the side. It’s enough to make goosebumps rise on your skin, which of course he notices.
Oh, how you’d like to wipe that knowing little smirk off his face right now.
“I can’t believe this! I’m not going to say a thing-”
“Yeonjun, and I’m saying this with love, if you say a single thing about it, I will personally unplug your refrigerator when you least expect it.”
Your attention is pulled away when you feel Taehyung leaning in to whisper something in your ear. “So, do we know what they’re arguing about?”
You can’t help but giggle. “Nope. Jiwoo won’t say anything.”
“Neither will Yeonjun.”
The smitten couple have been teasingly arguing for the entirety of the morning, leaving the rest of us in complete and utter confusion.
Oh well, I suppose it’ll help make the broadcast a bit more exciting.
It’s been two months since Jiwoo and I first *ahem* teleported to our soulmates at the MAMA awards. Or rather, since I landed in Taehyung’s lap and Jiwoo was nearly knocked unconscious when Yeonjun was thrown into her at full force. Of course, Jiwoo claims that it was horribly embarrassing, to which I’m always quick to say that she should feel lucky that at least she didn’t end up in a grown man’s lap. For all to see, no less.
Ari, our other group member, just rolls her eyes and tells us that beggars can’t be choosers.
Yeah, whatever that means.
The past two months have been busy, with hardly enough time to spend with my soulmate. Between the busy schedules and BTS and TXT and our own schedule, we’ve had to settle for late-night FaceTimes and the occasional lunch at the Bighit building. I’ve become really good at sneaking in and out of that building in broad daylight - so far I have yet to be discovered.
Today, however, is an important one. It’s our first official schedule together as soulmates. Naturally, all three groups have come together for the interview/variety show.
“Alright, time to head on!” A manager shouts into the room, and suddenly there’s a flurry of movement as we all head toward the door. “I need all the soulmates to stick to their own groups, ok? We don’t want to be causing a riot today.”
Right. With a gloomy expression, Taehyung parts from me to head back to his members. Jiwoo and I glue ourselves to Ari’s side, much to her chagrin. “Ready?”
Both you and Jiwoo respond simultaneously. “Nope.”
Ari just sighs, feigning annoyance. Together, the three of you await your cue as one by one, your groups are introduced.
TXT goes first, the hosts making a big deal out of swooning over Soobin who now has a cult of his own due to his MC abilities. They make a show of handing the microphone over to him, begging him to take it over from there. He politely declines, while the rest of the boys bicker and chat in the background.
Then your group is called out, and you find yourself walking out before a huge crowd. You didn’t realize that many people could fit in this building, but here they are. And all of them are here for the same reason: to get a look at the soulmate couples that have newly formed.
And that have been trending on Twitter and Tumblr for two solid months, breaking all kinds of records.
As BTS is introduced with an almost reverent tone, you understand why you’ve been trending for so long.
It has a lot to do with one of the men walking out right now, smiling at the crowd and waving, graciously bowing his way across the stage.
Taehyung wears a gray casual suit which has him looking like he just stepped off a photoshoot. Hair perfectly styled and eyes glowing with adoration for the fans that roar and wave, he commands the entire room with a single raise of his eyebrows.
Your soulmate, ladies and gentlemen.
Today is the day where you prove to the rest of the world how much of a perfect match you are for this man. The notion is terrifying.
“Wow!” The host, a jovial man named Donghyun shouts out, exaggerating how amazed he is by the crowd’s reaction to all three groups sharing the same stage. Indeed, it’s a rare sight. “Ok! Should we get started?”
After a few minutes of more introductions, a few cursory questions (he asks Yeonjun what he’s been up to recently and you’re pretty sure Jiwoo manages to telepathically threaten him, because he chooses the most vague answer imaginable), and instructions on how to begin the next activities, you’re off to the races.
Painting races, that it.
Donning a frock and eyeing the empty canvas before you, you glare at your opponent across the way. Taehyung, to his credit, refrains from winking at you. He thinks you’re adorable when you’re flustered, but now’s not the time.
“Taehyung-ssi!”
Taehyung blinks up at Donghyun. “Yes?”
“Are you going to let your soulmate win?”
The game is simple: paint the listed object with as much detail as possible in a sixty second period. The others will have to guess what it is.
Taehyung pouts his lips a bit, glancing over at you with a glint in his eye. “I’ll have to see, I think.”
Donghyun chuckles into the mic, turning to face you. “What about you? If Taehyung-ssi falls behind, will you help him win?”
You wiggle your eyebrows at your soulmate, heart soaring when he delivers a boxy grin. “Oh, of course not. I came to compete, not hold hands.”
The crowd bursts out laughing, and someone yells out, “I’ll hold his hand for you!”
You all dissolve into a fit of laughter at that, your cheeks blushing madly. “Yeah, thanks for the offer,” you say between giggles. Readying your paint brush, you wait for the signal.
You’ve been given the word ‘Iceland’, which you figure shouldn’t be too hard.
What you failed to account for was the fact that you’re perhaps the worst painter you know. What should look like a globe looks like a basketball and what should be a cube of ice instead looks like nothing more than a cardboard box.
In the end, you’re pretty sure you laugh more than you paint. Your team members, consisting of a mix from both teams, look utterly confused at the end product. Eventually it’s Jin - who happens to be on Taehyung’s team - that accidentally calls out the answer.
The rest of the games pass by in a blur of laughter and covert glances toward Taehyung. He always manages to find a way to make you laugh, even though he remains on the other side of the stage for the most part. You don’t miss all of the fans that look at him dreamily, and you can only hope that they’re happy with your overall performance today.
At the end, you all squeeze onto a couple of couches. Donghyun makes a fuss over allowing the soulmates to sit together, and you can’t hide your smile as a beet-red Yeonjun sidles down to the couch to sit beside Jiwoo, placing his hands in his lap and trying not to do anything that will go viral.
Taehyung sits on your right, crossing his arms in a way that pulls on his suit jacket enough to expose the outline of his biceps. You catch your eyes wandering, snapping your attention back to the front where Donghyun reads some questions off of a card.
“I believe that this was the first time soulmates have met while performing at MAMA, is that correct? What were your first thoughts when you suddenly found yourselves face to face with your soulmate?”
The four of you that now have all the attention riding on your shoulders look to each other for help. Finally, with a racing heart, you answer first.
“I think the obvious answer is that I was shocked,” you smile as knowing chuckles ripple through the room. “But I was also really grateful, because Taehyung was so kind and understanding. The staff were very professional and helped us quickly. Overall, I really can’t imagine it having happened in any other way.”
There’s a few ooh’s and aww’s that greet your ears, but you look down at your lap as you blush. Taehyung slightly nudges your knee with his own, and in that simple movement you feel the comfort that he’s trying to give you.
“I’d actually been talking to Jiminie earlier about soulmates,” Taehyung pipes up.
“Oh, yeah! That’s right!” Jimin says, giving his friend a slap on the shoulder. “What are the odds?”
Taehyung flashes a shy smile. “I told him that I felt like I was ready. It can be strangely lonely sometimes, and there are times when I just felt like I was missing something. Now, all I have to do is pick up my phone and my missing piece is on the other side, ready to talk with me.”
Now people are really swooning, you included. You dare to peek over at your soulmate, heart nearly melting when you see that his shy smile is paired with pink cheeks. You wish that you could snuggle up to him right now, but that would definitely not end well. Instead, you lightly nudge his knee with your own, returning the little slice of comfort he provided you earlier.
“And you two?” Dongyun asks after wiping fake tears away from his eyes.
Yeonjun chews on his bottom lip, Jiwoo too lost in thought to notice that he has that look again.
“I, er...” Yeonjun begins, squirming a little in his seat. “I was...really happy.”
Donghyun urges Yeonjun to continue. “Of course you were! What about finding Jiwoo made you so happy?”
Jiwoo looks up in horror, but it’s too late. Yeonjun has already opened his mouth and begun to speak.
“I was so happy because the first thing she said to me was that she thought I was so hot.”
Radio silence.
And then-
“Oh-ho!! Yeonjunnie you’re so dead!” Hueningkai laughs, and soon everyone follows suit. Even Donghyun has to throw his hand over his mouth to keep himself from snorting with laughter.
Jiwoo looks at Yeonjun, who completely avoids her gaze as he stares unblinking at the floor. Then, quietly enough for nobody to hear except for you who sits beside her, she whispers, “Say goodbye to all the perishable items in your fridge.”
In the chaos that ensues, Taehyung discreetly traces circles against your arm and mumbles, “Why didn’t you say that to me when we first met?”
You smack his shoulder. “I should be asking you the same thing!”
Just before everything calms down again, Taehyung leans over to grab the abandoned canvas on the ground. Taking the still-wet paint and dipping his finger into it, he draws something out on it. Nudging you to get your attention, he flashes the canvas for you to see, hiding it from the cameras.
It’s hard to keep a neutral expression as you see his handiwork. It’s just six words, but they’re enough to have your entire face flushed a moment later.
I think you’re hotter than Yeonjun ;)
Stifling a laugh, you roll your eyes. “I hope you know I’m keeping that,” you mumble. Taehyung grins.
“Great. We’ll get it framed.”
A few days later, you do. It hangs in the front room of your apartment, for all to see. And for Jiwoo to loathe, as it serves as a constant reminder of her embarrassing first words to her soulmate.
Oh well. In the words of Ari, “Beggars can’t be choosers.”
masterlist
#taehyung x reader#v x reader#v oneshot#taehyung oneshot#bts oneshot#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts soulmate au#taehyung soulmate au#bts fluff#taehyung fluff#txt fluff#txt soulmate au#yeonjun fluff#yeonjun x soulmate#bts sfw
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The Artist and The Musician
→ I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don’t think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.
→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader
→ Genre: Fluff.
→ Words: 5.6k
→ Request: Hey! It’s me again lmao I was curious maybe like sykunno or raes little sister (like 2 or 3 years younger) meets the group and her and corpse just click. How would either of them react to them hearing the news that their little sis is dating corpse and like they’ve moved in together and everything idk I thought it’d be cute💛
→ Warnings: Swearing.
→ Authors Note: Its been a hard couple of weeks and im really sorry that this took so long to be done but depression rlly hit me and I could barely move myself. I hope you enjoy this, and if you do, please comment some words of encouragement or feedback 💛
→ if you have some spare change , consider buying me a coffee.
You sighed as you finally dropped the last box in your new room, stretching to get rid of the pains in your back. Grabbing your phone, you moved over to Sykkunos room, knocking before sticking your head in.
"You want subway?" you asked when he looked up from the computer. He nodded with a quick smile, and as you closed the door behind you, you could hear him talking to the stream, letting them know that it was just his sister. Quickly ordering on Ubereats, you slumped on the sofa, closing your eyes and resting for a bit.
You had decided to move in with Sykkuno a month ago, the same week you'd decided to drop out of college. It wasn't something your parents were happy with, but after seeing how big your art and business had gotten, they had let you drop out. You'd dropped out and moved to LA, moving into an apartment with Sykkuno since he had to leave the OTV house. Sykkuno had moved in a week earlier which was why his room and computer was all set up. You'd only moved in today, spending a few weeks at home with your parents before leaving for LA. Stretching, you grabbed your phone, checking how long it would be until the food came, and then clicking on Instagram. Your most recent post was of this morning, a photo of you sitting on top of half the boxes in your room, throwing a peace sign at the camera. Sykkuno had taken it for you, the whole process taking 10 minutes cuz you made him take it at 45 different angles. Scrolling through the comments, you liked a few, replying to the ones by your best friends.
@selinaissss: "HOW DARE YOU LOOK THIS PERFECT AT 8 IN THE MORNING????"
→ @junefarie: i look like a racoon dont u dare
@onlyalyssa: "we need a house tour"
→ @junefarie: bitch I dont even have a bed yet
You grabbed the subway order when the bell rang, saying a quick thank you to the delivery man. You left yours on the table, and went to Sykkunos room, yelling "Sykkuno catch!" before throwing it at him, giggling as he leapt forward from his chair to catch it. Closing the door softly behind you, you jumped onto the couch, sitting cross-legged, grabbing your sketchbook and pencils from your backpack and setting them on your lap. It was time to wind down a bit.
~
It was a week later and you had unpacked fully, now focusing more on creating new pieces of art for a shop update. You were also working on some designs specifically for shirts and hoodies. Sykkuno found you in front of your computer, blanket wrapped around you and glasses perched on your nose as you emailed the manufacturer you were working with for the hoodies.
"Un, y/n?" he said hesitantly knocking on the door. You spun around in your chair, raising your eyebrows at him. "What's up?"
He walked in, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed and you got your water from the table, taking a sip as you wait for him to talk.
"I um- You know how I- I play Among Us right?" he asked, scratching his neck.
You hummed in response, urging him on with a nod. Sykkuno was almost never this nervous around you. Most of the time, you guys talked normally, joking and teasing each other. For him to be stuttering around you, he must have been extremely nervous.
"Well, you know Rae right? She um, she asked me to make a lobby," he said, standing up and pacing now. You furrowed your brows, confused as to where this was going.
He was explaining what a lobby was (which what the fuck, you watched his streams, of course you knew what a lobby was, why was he explaining that) when you cut him off, getting up and grabbing his shoulders to stop him.
"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, holding his shoulders with both your hands.
He sighed and slumped into you, his head coming to a rest on your shoulder.
"Rae asked me to make a lobby and it's the first time I've ever made one and I'm really nervous about it. I've already invited people, but um I was wondering if you wanted to join as well? I- It would help me to have you there." he muttered, the words muffled as he spoke into your shoulder.
"Me?" you asked, a little shocked because you had never played among us before.
He nodded against your shoulder.
"Um sure!" you said, wrapping your arms around his middle, "It'll be fun!"
"And hey," you added on when he didn't say anything after that, "I can meet all your friends as well!"
He finally lifted his head a little, smiling as he muttered out a quick "Thanks y/n."
"However," you added, jumping back onto your seat and wiggling your eyebrows at him. "You have to buy me pizza for tonight's dinner."
He chuckled, grabbing his phone and already mutterng the order to himself as he opened up the ubereats app and walked out of the room.
You turned back to the laptop humming a tune under your breath. From interactions like this, most people would probably assume that you were older but the truth was that Sykkuno was 5 years older than you. Your roles were reversed and you were probably more protective over him than anyone else. Once in high school a girl had called him cute and asked him for his number only to write it on the bathroom walls. After the first three prank calls, you'd taken the phone from him yelling at anyone who called that if they called again, that you'd personally track them down and shove a dildo up their ass.
Both of you had always been close, but with the amount of bullying and teasing he got in high school, you'd got even closer, eventually becoming his best friend in a way. Seeing Sykkuno grow as a person, get new friends who were genuinely nice and kind made you the happiest person alive. When Sykkuno had first started streaming you'd been worried, scared that people online would say something mean. When he had first started streaming with other streamers and then met Lily and all his other friends, you had been anxious, worrying that they might only be putting up a friendly facade. You were also the happiest though when he grew even closer to them, when he smiled more, laughed more, talked more.
You had yet to meet or talk to any of his friends, mostly because you'd been in college, and the pandemic had made it harder. Maybe it was finally time.
~
The day came and you sat in your room, once again a blanket wrapped around you, glasses perched on your nose as you accepted the discord invite Sykkuno sent you.
"DO I GO IN THE CHAT THINGY?" you yelled to Sykkuno, hearing a "YES" before clicking on the voice chat.
You mumbled a "hello", wondering if your mic was on.
"Hey, yeah I can hear you y/n."
Breathing a sigh of relief, you logged into the game, smiling as you heard sykkuno introduce you to his chat. "Hi everyone," you said, feeling a bit weird only talking to a screen. You rubbed your hands, a little nervous to be doing this.
Just then someone else joined and before you could even speak another three people joined as well, all of them yelling hello as they joined.
"He- Hey guys, how's everyone doing?" started sykkuno.
"Im doing great oh my god, guess what guys, I'm-" started Rae, cutting herself off. "wait, whos um "ms snores a lot"?
You were a bit confused for a second, furrowing you eyebrows for a second before realising what had happened.
"SYKKUNO YOU ASSHOLE WHAT THE FUCK?" you yelled, staring at the name underneath the voice channel that you now realised belonged to you. You could hear Sykkunos laughter from the other room but you just spluttered indignantly. He was the one who had set up everything on your computer yesterday because technology was something that you rarely messed around with.
"Sykkunooo" you whined, when he kept laughing, "How the fuck do I change it now?"
"Um wait, sykkuno who is this?" asked Rae, the other three echoing her. You glanced at the names and from the voices figured out that it was Rae, Toast, Sean and Corpse in the lobby.
"Hey okay, so guys this is my sister, her names y/n and we recently moved in together, so I asked her to be in the lobby because... um.." he said stuttering at the end to find a reason.
"Because he wanted to embarrass me apparently!" you exclaimed, giving him a way out.
"Oh god, um - you can change it in settings, at the bottom near where your name is."
"Ahhh," you said finding it and then simply typing in your art business name.
"Its nice to meet everyone by the way," you started. "I've been watching your videos for ages so it almost fels like I already know you"
Raes voice started in your ears and you winced at the volume befoe turning it down a bit.
"I would love to say that Sykkuno has told us a lot about you, but the truth is that he keeps a lot of secrets and I didnt even know he had a sister, I AM SO SHOCKED RIGHT NOW"
You gasped. "Sykkuno what the fuck, you didn't even tell Rae?"
"You told me not to tell a lot of people!" he protested.
You heard someone saying "they're so different!' but you ignored it and kept talking.
"Yeah at the start! and on stream! I can't believe you never even said you had a sister." you spluttered out, followed by another gasp.
"Are you embarrassed of me?" you whispered dramatically.
"N-What no of course not!" he exclaimed, and you could also imagine how wide his eyes would have gotten.
You giggled before telling him that you were only joking.
"Um since sykkuno is embarrassed of me," you said jokingly, "I'll just tell you myself."
"I'm like five years younger than sykkuno, I'm a June baby, I do art, my star sign is cancer, I'm 5'4, I recently moved in with sykkuno, and my favourite colour is purple!"
"Oh is that why your username is junefarie? Because you were born in June?" asked Sean.
Before you could say yes, someone else cut in.
"Wait, junefarie?" asked corpse, "like the artist?"
Your eyes widened as you realised that he knew you. Sure you had quite a few followers, but you never expected any of Sykkunos friends to know you from there.
"Um yeah," you said letting out a shocked laugh, "I didnt expect anyone here to know about me."
"Dude, your art is fire!" he exclaimed, voice louder now. "I was honestly thinking of buying a piece soon, I've followed you for ages!"
"Wait, I wanna see as well." whined Rae, "Ima look you up, are you on Instagram?"
"Um," you said still shocked by the fact that somone this big knew you. "yeah I'm on instagram, its just junefarie." you said first replying to Rae, "Um corpse, thankyou so much! thats so nice of yo!"
"Um my art isn't that great yet," you chuckled, embarrassed by all the attention now. "I'm hoping to improve a lot more and I have a bunch of ideas for it as well. I'm hoping to work more now that I moved in with Sy."
"Oh my god, this is amazing," whispered Rae, Toast and Sean echoing her. You ducked your head even though no one could see you. Your cheeks were blazing hot and you pressed your hands to them to cool yourself down.
"Thankyou," you mumbled, not sure what to say.
Someone else entered the lobby, and said "hi" and you welcomed the source of distraction.
"Hi! I'm Sykkunos sister, y/n!" you said , wanting to move away from the topic of your art.
The reply of "sykkuno has a SISTER?" made everyone laugh, successfully moving the attention to Sykkuno and off your art. Finally Sykkuno started the game and you breathed as you lost yourself in the art of gaming.
"OH MY GOD!" yelled Rae as the game ended and everyone appeared in the lobby. "That was like amazing, Y/N I cant belive you pulled that off!"
She was talking about the last game where there was 50/50 between corpse and Sykkuno (because you refused to kill sykkuno when you were imposter) and you somehow managed to convince Sykkuno that it was Corpse.
"Honestly, neither can I!" you exclaimed back staring at your screen, eyes blurring the screen because of how tired you were.
"I can't believe Sykkuno," mumbled corpse. "I literally said I saw her vent and kill toast and Sykkuno was still like "hmmm, I don't think so."
Giggling at Sykkunos yell of "SHES MY SISTER" you yelled out a bye as everyone started leaving and then struggled to find a way to end the call.
"Wait, how do I end it," you muttered to yourself.
You jumped as Corpse talked, not expecting anyone to be there.
"You can see yoru name at the bottom left right? Its above that but a little to the right." he said chucling a little.
"Oh." you said, you cheeks heating up. You didnt know if it was because of him or because you were utterly useless with technology.
"Um thankyou," you said awkwardly.
"No problem."
You exited out of the call, a small smile at your lips.
Sykkunos friends were nice.
~
After the stream, your fanbase grew, and with it, the number of orders as well. For the next week, you were buried under orders, only leaving the house to go to the post office.
An Instagram post on @junefarie account:
[ID: A photo of y/n and sykkuno standing in the middle of the living room, packages scattered everywhere. Y/n is hugging Sykkuno tight and Sykkuno is staring at the camera, a distressed look on his face.]
Caption: Thankyou so much for all my supporters and all the love shown to me. Sending out loads of orders and I cant wait for you gusy to get yours! Special thanks to @sykkuno for helping me send out orders. luv yu.
Comments:
@Sykisacutie: best sibling duo!
@valkyrae: hope my order is in their as well.
→ I SCREAMED WHEN SY TOLD ME THAT WAS YOUR NAME.
@corpse_husband: sykkuno looks like he's accepted death.
→ @sykkuno: I would have welcomed death at that point
→ @corpse_husband @sykkuno: okay ill be honest, I would have welcomed death as well.
@ariesin: go best friend, go! we need to get together to paint soon !!
→ SOONNNNNN
~
You flopped onto your bed, every part of your body hurting. Carrying boxes filled with orders down the stairs had tired your whole body, which wasn't used to any exercise at all. That had taken practically the whole day and then you had to clean your room because the mess from the orders had barely left any room to move. You flung your hand to the side, grabbing your phone from the table and bringing it up to your face. The "1:02" was clearly visible on your screen and you unlocked the phone, heading to Twitter. Scrolling through your feed, you liked a few tweets from friends before gearing yourself up and moving to the messages. Ever since you'd played with Corpse, Sykkuno and everyone, you'd been getting a lot of messages. Most of them were just the streamers fans, asking you if you know them or telling you to take care of sykkuno. There were a few though that targeted you, telling you that your art sucked, that they didn't know why Corpse could like my art. You'd taken to deleting them before sleeping so that your inbox wouldn't get cluttered and you could still find any serious requests or messages from your followers. Therefore, you didn't really think anything of it when there was another message from someone with a Corpse icon and you clicked on it only to see the message and gasp, immediately sitting up in bed.
Corpse_Husband → Hey, I was wondering if I could work with you on something? I really love your art and was wanting to commission or collaborate for an album cover or some merch designs. Message me on this number cuz I barely see my dms.
Underneath was a number.
"Oh my god," you whispered, unsure as to what to do.
When you had decided to drop out of college, you had expected hard days. You had expected your normal orders and mostly just improving your art and marketing it more. You had expected long days and not much money in the bank account. You certainly had not expected the immense amount of orders you'd gotten. Along with that, the amount of love and support had taken you by surprise and you had spent the last night crying because of how much love you and your art were getting.
You had also not expected such a big opportunity just landing at your feet.
Quickly you clicked on the number, putting it in your contacts with the name Corpse and then writing a quick message.
"Hey I got your twitter dm! I've personally never done art for merch or album covers but I would love the opportunity!"
You bit your lip, confused as to whether that was enough before deciding it was fine and just sent it.
Your heart beat a little faster as you slumped back onto the bed.
~
@junefarie Instagram story:
[ID: A zoomed-in picture of a drawing, the only part that was visible was curly hair. The text read: "Working on something SO COOL"]
~
Your phone was ringing. Stuffing the rest of the pizza in your mouth, you swept your hand over the covers of your bed, trying to find it. With a muttered "aha", you grabbed it and swiped on the call before it ended. Pressing the phone to your ear, you mumbled a "hello", still chewing the pizza bite.
A low rapsy voice came out of the speaker, one that you definitely didn't expect. You choked on the pizza, coughing out pieces onto the bed. Sure you guys had messaged each other a bit (you kinda had to because of the commission), but you hadn't expected him to call out of nowhere.
"Um I hope this isn't a bad time," he said when you didn't respond for a second. Of course, he didn't exactly know that hearing his voice so close to your ear had you frozen for a second.
"Um no," you replied, coughing slightly to clear your throat. "It's fine! What did you wanna talk about?"
"Oh, um I know you're already working on the commission and its looking great! I can't wait to work with the merch team to create something really cool with it, but um-" he broke off for a second sounding hesitant. "I really wanna get another commission done as well."
"Oh?" you said after a second when he didn't reply. "I'd be happy to do another one for you!"
"Uh yeah, but I'm afraid that I might be a bit late, You see I was wondering if it could be done before Christmas?"
You sucked in a breath as you counted the days in your mind.
"Hmm, it depends on how big it is tbh. There's still 2 weeks to go till Christmas so I could fit it in," you mumbled, biting your lip as you remembered the onslaught of orders you still had to send out.
"Well," he started and you smiled a little as the excitement crept into his voice. "You know that Sykkuno, Rae, Toast and me are called the 4 Amigops right? I kinda wanted a portrait of all 4 of us, in our um among us colors, and I basically wanted to print it out and send to each of them for Christmas."
"Aww, that sounds like such a good idea, I'm sure they'll all love it!" you smiled, thinking about how much Sykkuno would appreciate that.
"Uh thanks," he mumbled, "do you think you can get it done?"
"Sure!" you replied immediately. You did have a lot of orders, yes, but like, you could fit Corpse in. If you pulled a few all-nighters. "I'll send you the sketches soon okay?"
"Oh thank god, thankyu so much for this y/n, I really appreciate it. Youre one of my favourite artists and I'm really happy that I could finally commisison you after so long."
"So long?" you questioned. "Since when have you known about my art?"
There was a moment of silence and then "Um, around the time you still posted your sketches and stuff I guess?"
You furrowed your eyebrows thinking for a second before letting out a gasp.
"Corpse that was 4 years ago!"
"Oh really?"
"Yeah, oh my god, I cant believe you've seen those, I was so bad then!"
"No no, they were really good at that time as well! I was so shocked when Sykkuno told us you were his sister because like, I'd been following you for ages and I had absolutely no idea. You guys are like really different."
"Hah yah, Sykkunos so soft, and then there's me. An actual devil."
"Your usernames so different as well! I remember when I first saw a picture of you on your account and I was kind of shocked because based on the name junefarie, I was expecting someone very soft I guess but then you were literally the opposite and wearing actual devil horns."
"Oh god, that was one of the first few photos I posted of myself. that was on Halloween I think,", you took a deep breath still shocked that Corpse had known about you for that long,
"Yeah, I chose junefarie because...”
It was 2 hours later when Corpse said that he should probably be working on his music.
"Oh I'm so sorry," you apologized, "I didn't mean to keep you,"
"Oh no, I um, I liked talking to you."
Your breath caught for a moment and you smiled like a lunatic at your Pokémon covered bedsheets.
"I liked talking to you as well," you whispered out, heart sinking a little as you realized the call would be ending soon.
"Um, do you, maybe want to stay on call? like I'll just be writing and we can just chill?" he asked and you felt like your prayers had been answered.
"yes" you said quickly, not giving him a chance to back out.
He chuckled, and you fell in love a little.
Just a little.
~
You continued like that, calling each other every few days, talking so much and then at times, not talking at all, simply content with each others company.
He had even started facetiming you, the first time with a mask and then the second without it. You hadn't made a big deal about it, but the first time you saw him, you could barely breathe.
There were five days left until Christmas when you got the idea.
You were entirely not subtle about it, because, well to be honest, there wasn't a subtle bone in your body.
"Hey Corpse, do you like surprises?" you had asked, in the middle of colouring Raes hair (her hair was the last thing left before you could finally print the goddamn thing)
"It depends," he had murmured after a second, voice sending shivers down your spine like every time. Now whether that was because of his voice or because of him, you weren't entirely sure.
"on what?" you prodded when he refused to answer.
"On whether its a good one or a bad one" he had huffed out.
You had hummed, waited for a second and then blurted out that next question because you did not have a cent of patience.
"So what are you doing at Christmas?"
"Sleeping, if I can manage it," he replied, his voice taking on a sardonic tone, eyes flicking to you on the screen. The only thing he could see though was the top of your head because you had your iPad on the bed and were laying over it as you drew.
"Not with that attitude you aren't," you replied right back, making a small smile appear across his face.
"Hmmm, okay!" you said when he didn't reply.
He looked back over, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opening as he started to question you.
"Hey did you see the video I sent you?" you quickly asked distracting him from his question.
He would probably guess the surprise but that was okay. You only wanted to make a smile appear on his face. And honestly, for someone with anxiety, a small warning of a surprise was definitely needed.
~
It was Christmas day and you woke Sykkuno up at 6 in the morning with the promise that you'd buy him McDonald's. 30 minutes later, you were both in the car, yelling the lyrics to "All I want for Christmas" at the top of your lungs.
You had told sykkuno of your plan a few days ago and he had smiled at you with that stupid smile, agreeing with a small "alright."
You'd immediately realised that he knew. Even though you pretended otherwise, Sykkuno was the older one and the thing about older siblings was that they always knew.
They always knew.
So there you were, snacks loaded into your car, McDonald's fries practically everywhere, and a cake you had made in the backseat, on your way to Corpses house.
There was a lull in the music, and you were only 30 minutes away from his place, butterflies fluttering in your stomach when Sykkuno asked you a question.
"You like him right?" he murmured, head leaning against the window, eyes closed.
There was a moment of silence as you thought about what to say. Did you like Corpse? Of course, you liked Corpse! He was funny, he was nice, he made you feel like you were the only person that mattered and your heart beat faster than ever whenever he looked at you. Hell, that was through a screen, in real life, it would probably be even worse. So of course you liked him! The question was, did he like you back?
"Yeah," you answered Sykkuno, eyes straight on the road.
A second passed and then he smiled. "Good," he replied. and well. That was that. You sighed.
At least you had your brothers blessing.
~
Pulling into the apartment building, you breathed in, your heart beating a million times a second and the butterflies in your stomach had turned into snakes. Maybe, maybe this wasn't a good idea at all. I mean, you expected Corpse to get the hint but what if he didn't? and what if he didn't want you to come? Maybe you were being too quick. After all, It'd only been a month since you'd met.
These thoughts plagued your mind as you trudged up the stairs, turning to Sykkuno as you reached the door.
"Maybe we shouldn't have come," you whispered to him.
He looked at you, eyebrows high, "We just travelled two hours to get here. There's no way im going back without at least giving him the print."
"What if he doesn't want us to be here?" you hissed.
"Then we'll go away." he stated, "after we give him the print."
"But what if-"
Before you could even finish your sentence, the door opened and you both jumped, turning to face the person standing in the doorway.
You forced yourself to breathe as you finally saw him. It was him. Wearing a black beanie, half his hair spilling out the sides, stubble clear on his chin... it was him. At that moment, there was only one thought in your mind.
You were gonna marry this man.
"You suck at whispering," he said, and you huffed out a laugh, jumping onto him without even responding. You wrapped your arms around him, not letting go until Sykkuno cleared his throat from behind you.
You turned back immediately, grabbing the stuff in Sykkunos hands so he could greet Corpse too. As they awkwardly did their handshake/fistbump thing, you walked over to the couch behind them, putting down the print and the takeaway bags, and putting the cakebox down on the table.
You turned around to see them both standing there staring at you.
"Surprise?" you said when no one else spoke. That broke the ice a little and you grabbed the print from the couch thrusting it at Corpse.
"Open it. Open it. Open it." you mumbled, your heart beating fast as he carefully ripped the paper off. The smile that overtook his face made your heart immediately calm.
"It's beautiful," he whispered, eyes roaming everywhere, trying to take it all in. Clearing his throat, he nodded his head further into the apartment, mumbling that he was going to put it in the room, eyes still on the print as he walked there.
"You smile is gonna blind me," muttered Sykkuno.
"Oh shut up."
~
A few hours later, you stood in the kitchen, putting the leftover cake into Corpses fridge. You had all chilled, eating cake and the takeout that you and sykkuno had bought, laughing every few minutes. It felt like you were all on an adrenaline rush. You had facetimed Rae and Toast, Rae shrieking when she realised where you guys were. Sykkuno had just fallen into a nap, still tired from being wakened up so early, you assumed.
You leaned against the kitchen bench, smiling as Corpse walked in.
"Thankyou." he said as he came to a stop next to you, matching your position.
"For what?" you mused, even though you had a good enough idea.
"For the print. For coming here. For making my Christmas, a much happier affair than it has been my whole life." he stated, chuckling at the last point.
You turned your head sideways, and you didn't know what it was, but something about his face made you spurn into action. You grabbed his collar, pulled him down, and kissed him before he could even say anything. It would be too cliche to say that fireworks erupted. And if you were being honest they didn't. Instead, it felt like everything was finally right. You fit perfectly in his arms as they wrapped themselves around you, and you smiled into the kiss as he lifted you up, making you sit at the counter. You twirled the hair at the nape of his neck with your left hand, taking a deep breath in as you both slowed down and pulled away.
"Well," he whispered, "that was unexpected."
You raised a single eyebrow. Honesty you'd done a lot for this relationship. You just drove for nearly 3 hours! If he wanted it to progress, he was gonna have to say it himself.
"But not unwelcome," he continued when you didn't speak. A moment passed, where you could see that he was psyching himself up to say something. Finally, with a heaving sigh, he whispered "Darling, would you do me the honour of being called yours?"
You melted right there.
A nod was all he needed before he grabbed your lips with his again, both of you giggling when he accidentally hit the side of your mouth instead of the lips.
The sound of a picture being taken filled the air, making you spring apart and swing your heads over to the doorway, which had sykkuno leaning against it, his phone in his hand.
"Thank god. Rae and Toast bet that you wouldn't confess until after Christmas, so now they both owe me 20 bucks." he said, now fiddling on the phone. "Dont worry Corpse, I'll add a circle over your face or something."
Your mouth dropped open as you stared at your brother.
"You bet on my love life?" you scoffed, still shocked.
At his nod though, you swung off the bench, marching until you were eye to eye to him.
"I want half the winnings."
Rolling his eyes, he turned back to the living room, jumping onto the sofa.
"C'mon, let's watch one more episode before heading back," he said and you jumped in next to him, patting the space next to you as Corpse came in behind you.
You grabbed Sykkunos hand and squeezed it, letting him know that you were grateful that he didn't make it such a big deal. Leaning your head on corpses shoulder, you smiled to yourself.
You'd have to leave in 30 minutes, to drive back to your parents and spend the rest of Christmas with them, leaving Corpse behind. And that made you a bit sad sure, but it couldn't overpower the feeling of pure happiness at being here. At giving him a happier Christmas. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.
Nothing could overpower this feeling of absolute happiness.
fin.
Corpse husband taglist: @mythicalamphitrite @ramble-writes @atsumubabe @anxiouskat5646 @itssierramcquade @xaestheticalien @jotaroslightning @starstruckllamapuppy @gxldenskiez @shinyshimaagain @cavanana @fee-btheweeb (send an ask to be added!)
#corpse x reader#corpse husband x reader#corpse husband#corpse x y/n#corpse x you#corpse husband fanfiction#sykkunos sister#sykkuno fanfic#hope you enjoy#love yous
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Theater Kid
Ted Nivison x reader [she/her used]
It wasn’t odd for me to be left alone in the big open space. Most nights I was there into the late hours when my teachers were too tired to remember I was there. But tonight they’d actually forgotten, so I busied myself by sweeping the giant black stage. The push broom had been left near the side lighting panel, so I chose a few flood lights to turn on to better see the flooring. The lightbulbs hummed to life above me and I went back to take center stage as a starting point. I turned to look towards the house but, as I stared out into the seats, I saw someone standing who hadn’t been there before.
“You turned the fucking floods on.” His voice echoed across the near empty space and I shushed him as quickly as possible. Fucking actors always having to be the loudest.
“Jesus Christ Theodore shut up. Haven’t you ever done this before?”
“No. I don’t stay after school cleaning like a weirdo.”
“Well you’re here. And I’m not a weirdo! It’s a shared space. If anything you should appreciate me.”
I watched as he awkwardly picked up his backpack and walked down the aisles towards me. He stood at the foot of the stage, staring up at me, which wasn’t that much of an angle for him. He was an abnormally tall person, especially for a highschool student. Of course it only added to the strange charismatic spell he held over almost everyone else in our shared department, and I hated it. I hated the way he never talked to me but talked to everyone else. I hated the way he would sit on the desks and the tables in the classroom and the makeup room and on the edge of the stage and when he caught me looking he would give me this wide, crooked smile. I hated how loud his stupid improv club was that he got to lead was because he was the only student good at it. I hated how I spent every day inside the workshop and the prop hallway and the sound booth and the set alley and the lighting booth and he never payed a bit of attention to it. It was everyone else but me. And even knowing how close I’d gotten to being the stage manager, I knew I’d always be one peg under him.
“Did you hear me?”
I blinked myself out of my angry thoughts, trying to catch up with the real world. “I’m sorry?”
“I said you don’t have to call me Theodore. Ted is fine.”
“Oh.” I rolled my shoulders back unsure of what was the appropriate next step. “Well my name is-“
“y/n I know.” He cut me off. I stared at him in confusion, simply having assumed he didn’t know who I was. “We have like five classes together. We’ve done every production together since freshman year. You’re the one in charge when I come to set days. I sit across from you in the makeup room during lunch. And I know you do all your homework at the director’s desk.”
I stared at my feet as I felt my face flush. It felt like I couldn’t make words. It didn’t make sense that this guy I thought was a prick for the last three years knew me? But I knew that I liked him knowing me. And that was the worst part; I’d been fine with thinking he didn’t know me and didn’t want to because it gave me a name to whatever this feeling was. And now I don’t know. I looked back towards him, trying to think of anything to say. “You don’t care about tech.”
“I- what?” I couldn’t tell if he was angry or confused, and I wasn’t sure which was worse. Staring at him again I noticed the strange tint to his face, which seemed to be turning pinker by the second. I could see my reflection in his glasses and I realized how awkward of an angle we were at.
I bent down on my knees to meet his eye level. “You don’t care about tech. You’re the guy who’s a lead character and comes to rehearsal just to fuck around when you’re not needed act all high and mighty when really you never do anything.”
He narrowed his eyes, as if thinking, and then slapped his bag down on the stage near my feet. “Give me a fucking broom.”
We spent the next while peacefully sweeping up the stage. At some point I switched to the nail detector (which was really a long stick with a magnet on the end) and began going around the edges and crevices to try and find anything. We crossed paths a couple times, shoulders brushing together or brooms clinking.
Eventually I had passed him just enough that he stopped me in my tracks. He grasped my forearm gently, but I stared at his hand. I didn’t seem to want him to let go. “Here.” He took an AirPod out of his ear and handed it to me.
“Ooooh fancy actor boy has AirPods.”
“Literally shut up and appreciate me.” I smiled as I walked towards the trash can. I didn’t know what was playing, but it seemed like some indie bullshit I probably would have admitted to liking if it wasn’t coming from Th- Ted.
I sighed as I leaned the broom against the wall. “I think we’re done here. I can put away the broom in the morning if you don’t know where it goes.”
“I got it.” I watched as he took the trash can under one arm and the broom to the designated little outcropping in the workshop.
“I think that’s the first time I’ve seen you in here.”
“Eh.” He shrugged and stood up straight to look down at me better. “Freshman year someone smacked me straight across the face with a roller. Worst acne I’ve ever had.”
“Oh. Ouch. Still on the handle?”
“Nope.”
“Wet or dry?”
“Wet. With paint. Fresh paint.”
“Ooh. What color?”
“Forest green.”
“Euch. Nasty.” I chuckled as I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. It wasn’t uncommon for this part of the school to be the coldest, especially surrounded by walls of exclusively concrete and a single garage door, and the seasons still changing as we neared the end of winter. I felt a shiver run through my spine, and Ted looked at me funny.
“Is it cold in here?”
“For some of us.”
“Here.” Ted shrugged off the heavy bomber jacket he had been wearing and draped it over my shoulders. It was warm on the inside, much warmer than I’d been expecting. It almost fit, but I guess his torso and arms were just slightly larger than mine. I looked back to him to say thank you but instead he was staring at me with this dumb look. He was smiling and his head was tilted slightly, and his face was pink again, but darker this time. I felt my face heat up as we stared at each other.
“We should leave.”
He seemed to snap back to reality. “Right. Yeah no right god it’s- what time?” He flicked his wrist out to move his sleeve in order to see his watch. Of course the pretentious bitch wore a stupid watch. “It’s like 6. I guess it’s eating time.”
I nodded and walked back out towards stage left, Turing off all the lights except for our single ghost light that had to sit center stage. It cast a hazy shadow over everything. I watched Ted walk towards center where the lightbulb stood. He started to reach for his bag but I heard the song change in the AirPod. He made eye contact with me as a slow waltzy song moved through my ear. He extended a hand to me and I tentatively reached for it. His hands felt good in mine. They were soft but worn, I and I could clearly feel the lines that ran through his palms and his fingers.
He took one of my hands in his and his other hand placed itself gently on my waist. “Have you ever waltzed before?” His voice was low and raspy, trying to be as quiet as possible.
I whispered back, “no.” He began to shuffle us around, pulling me left and right and pushing away and pulling me. I felt surrounded by the way he smelled and the way he held me gingerly, like a glass figurine. I stared down at my feet as to not step on him, but he took the hand that was holding mine to gently lift my chin up.
“It’ll be easier if you look up at me. I know you can hear the rhythm.” He began to hum the song as we continued to move. The song began a flourish ending as he threw me out in a twirl, then pulling me back in to his arms. I felt him dip me to the ground as the ending came. I let my self dangle, my head up side down, staring at the ground, then gently lifted my face back upwards. Ted was mere centimeters away from me. I could feel his breathing on my neck.
“Ted. I should-“
“Yeah. No no I know. Yeah.” He lifted me up slowly until I was sure I was flat on the floor. I grabbed my backpack, holding the straps.
“Do you want your jacket-?”
“Keep it. I can get it back tomorrow.”
“Today’s Friday.”
“Right. Monday then.”
I nodded and walked towards the door. I could hear his heavier footsteps behind me, gaining quick due to his longer legs. The door clicked shut behind us, and the cool February air rushed through my skin and hair. I watched Ted take a keychain out from the pocket of his back pack. He looked at me and frowned.
“Did you drive or do you have a ride?”
“Oh yeah. No they’ll uh. They’ll be here in a bit.” I dropped my bag and sat on the curb with it on my lap to try and stay warm. Ted’s jacket was lovely but not lovely enough.
I heard Ted drop his bag and watched as he took a seat next to me. He looked over at me. “What? I’m not gonna leave a pretty girl out alone at 7 at night in the winter. Besides my parents probably think I’m at the game anyways.”
Now that he mentioned it, I could hear the sound of cheering and drum line off in the distance.
Did he call me pretty?
We both waited on the curb for probably another 10 minutes before he started talking again. “There’s no one coming is there?”
“Ted-“
“I never see you leave because you always leave last. After anyone who could possible give you a ride has left. You’re one of those kids.”
“I’m sorry one of those kids?”
“No I didn’t-“ he exhaled and closed his eyes. “You don’t have anyone waiting for you. So you just walk.” We were both quiet for a moment, taking in the cold as it burned your skin. Ted stood up and extended a hand to me. “Get in the car.”
“Im sorry what?”
“Get in my fucking car. I’m not going to leave you to get kidnapped on the way home so you’re coming with me to get food.”
“See now this feels like kidnapping.”
“Oh my GOD get in the car.”
I reluctantly climbed into the passenger seat of his car, looking at the very minimal personalization that had been done: a couple stickers on the back window and a glasses case in the center cup holder. I watched as he reversed out of the parking spot, extending his arm against my seat to better turn around. I did my best not to stare, but I wasn’t sure what else to look at. He stopped before going into drive, asking if I didn’t mind McDonald’s even if there was a long line.
“Sure. It’s not like there’s someone waiting on me.”
He frowned at my response, but nonetheless kept on driving. “Well, there’s also a Dairy Queen, Sherri’s, maybe a Taco Bell-“
“Sherri’s.”
He glanced over at me with a confused look. “Really??”
“Come on, you know sitting in a dirty trashy restaurant at night is the total teenage coming of age moment.”
“Yeah but a Sherri’s? The food isn’t even good enough to justify.”
“You only say that because you haven’t tried those loaded hash browns.” I jokingly placed a hand on his shoulder, but I felt him tense at the contact. I retracted my hand and he sighed, moving to turn on his right blinker.
Ted swiveled his head to check for passing cars, but he grinned at me as we made less than a second of eye contact. I turned my head away towards the window next to me, trying to swallow whatever heat was rising towards my cheeks. I watched us pass cars and headlights as we approached the poorly lit parking lot. I jolted as ted’s plastic bumper lightly scraped the ground. He mumbled something under his breath as he pulled into a spot.
“I hate this stupid lot. Always scratch something coming in.” He unbuckled his seat belt and got out quicker than I expected. I went to unbuckle and get out but as I reached for the door handle, Ted opened it for me from the outside.
“Oh.” I stared at him for a second and he grinned at me.
“I know. Such a gentleman. Now get out of the car before I break your heart.” He winked at me, obviously joking, but I still felt my heart drop out of my chest.
“HA.” I pushed him away from me gently, but my fingers burnt at the touch.
I heard Ted shut the door behind me as I walked into the restaurant. There was really no one inside other than a group of kids tucked away in a booth in a far corner. I watched as the hostess approached me, saying I could sit in any table I wanted. I heard Ted walk in behind me and I turned to look at him, but he was staring at the group of kids in the corner.
He sighed and closed his eyes. “Oh shit-“
“HEY. TED!” One of the kids started yelling at him from the booth. The other boys laughed at him as the maybe two or three other girls giggled. I looked between Ted and the boy, who seemed incredibly belligerent or under some sort of influence. He waved his arms in a wide span over his head, as if telling Ted where he was. “NIVISON! COME SIT OVER HERE! COME ON FUCK THE LOSER! GET OVER HERE.”
Ted looked at me, making a prolonged eye contact, then back to the kid. “No thanks! I’ll see you later.”
He linked arms with me and rushed over to the other side of the restaurant, tucking us into a small booth by the window. He said almost nothing, staring just out at the bushes. A waiter came by, dropping off two thick plastic menus.
“Anything to drink?”
Ted mumbled, but I was sure the waiter wasn’t able to hear. “Water for him please. And how much is a vanilla milkshake?”
“$2.50 for a small.”
“A small vanilla milkshake then. Please.” I smiled gently at him, and the waiter seemed to straighten himself a bit, more self assured than he had been two minutes ago.
“Of course. Right away.”
The waiter walked away and Ted stayed quiet. I slid my hand across the table towards him. “Theodore-“
“I’m not friends with Jake. I mean I was when we were younger.” He was looking me now. Well not exactly me, but my extended hand at least. “He joined the football team and some other sorts and we just stopped hanging out because of time. And he does still wear the lettermen’s jacket but....” he dropped his voice and leaned in, I copied and leaned closer to him. “He got cut from the team because he would show up drunk so now he goes to games just to drink under the bleachers and pick up cheerleaders from the other schools. He tells anyone who asks that he got a brain injury and can’t legally practice but still goes for support.”
“Oh my god.” I blinked, my voice still at a whisper. “That’s terrible.”
Ted nodded eyes wide. He looked over my shoulder, tapped my hand, and then sat up. I sat up too, assuming it was the waiter, but stared at how close his hand was to mine.
“Okayyyyy one ice water and one vanilla milkshake.” I moved my line of vision towards the drink set in front of me. It had the standard glass cup and whipped cream topping, but on top were red and pink heart-shaped sprinkles. I stared at it, and Ted must of noticed it as he took my hand firmly in his, lacing our fingers together on top of the table. The waiter stared at it.
“Hey I think we’re ready to order if you don’t mind.” Ted’s voice was louder than I expected as it took command of our whole corner of the restaurant.
“Uh yeah. What can I get you two?”
“You said you wanted the loaded hash browns, right babe?” He turned to me smiling, but I had no idea what he was thinking.
“Y-Yeah. Those are the ones.”
He gave me a giant goofy smile, and turned back to the waiter. “We’ll have two orders of that please. And an extra straw for this milkshake if you don’t mind?”
“Uh yeah. Coming right up.”
The waiter walked away and Ted sighed, relaxing his grip on my hand but not quite releasing it. “Fucking creep.”
“What?”
He looked back at me, confused. “You didn’t notice he was flirting with you? He put heart shaped sprinkles on your milkshakes.”
“I guess he’s not that good at it then.”
We sat in silence as I drank the thick vanilla shake. Ted cleared his throat and looked towards me. Our hands were still together.
“Well what can we talk about together?”
“I don’t know, theater kid shit?”
“Alright.” He though for a second. “Fine. Movie musicals.”
“Oh. Oh my god I hate the greatest showman.”
“No you don’t!”
“Yes I do! PT Barnum had no excuse to be an asshole and the whole thing is just him being an asshole to his family who somehow accepts him again.”
“I think if you have a shitty life you could have the right to be an asshole, and he wasn’t that bad! He loved his wife, and the music is good!”
“Okay some, some of the songs are good, and the whole kiss with the red head was totally not his fault. But just cause you have a shit home life doesn’t mean you can be an ass. I would think it would make you want to be nicer so other people don’t experience the same treatment, you know?”
Ted pauses, seeming to consider, then nods and moves to take a drink from his water.
We spent the next while talking about random topics: stories, tv shows, movies, books, anything. At some point the waiter came back and set the food down without a word. Ted released his hand from mine to grab his fork, and I stared at the place his fingers had been. My hand felt cold and unfamiliar as I set it closer to my plate. I ate slowly, suddenly feeling uncomfortable, but Ted ate quicker than I thought he could.
“You were right these are delicious.”
“I told you, only good thing they have.”
I was probably close to finishing when the waiter came and slapped the receipt on the table. “We close in ten.”
As he walked away Ted chuckled. “It’s Sherri’s. They’re open 24 hours?”
I shook my head, smiling, as I dug around for some cash. I grimaced at the amount I had, realizing I would have barely two dollars left. I looked up, prepared to go broke, but Ted had already gotten up with cash in hand.
I reached out and grabbed on to his t-shirt as he walked towards the register. “Theodore, wait-“
“If I get to be your fake boyfriend I can pay for our fake date.” He smiled and continued walking. I rustled through all the small bills and coins I had. I was still holding them in my hands when he came back and sat down across from me.
“Y/N, i told you-“
“But, tip-“
“I got it. Finish your food.”
We sat in silence for a little longer, and as soon as I was done he stood up, shouldering the backpack I’d brought in with me. He stood next to me, holding out his arm towards me. I giggled as we linked arms and walked to the door. I made eye contact with the creepy waiter and watched as Ted flipped the guy off.
The air was cold as we exited the building. I probably would have shivered again if not for Ted’s jacket still around me. I used my free hand to pull it closed in front of me. We were silent getting into his car, but as he turned his key over to start the engine he looked to me and smiled.
“Thank you for an amazing fake first date.”
I laughed and felt a small heat rise to my cheeks. “You make an excellent fake boyfriend.”
He turned up the music as we pulled out of the parking lot. I could hear him scrape his bumper again, but he didn’t say anything about it this time. “So, how do I take you home?”
“Oh. You don’t have to! I can just take the bus-“
“y/n. It’s late and it’s dark and it’s cold. Please let me take you home.” We were stopped at a red light, and we paused, staring just at each other. Ted’s face was bright red, and I’m sure mine was too. But even when the light turned green, his face was still red, and I’m sure mine still was.
A car behind us held a sustained honk, and Ted jolted out of his stupor and peeled out across the intersection. Of course Ted wasn’t a bad driver. He was a highschool driver, so he drove to look cool half the time. Meaning right now he was driving with one hand at the top of the wheel and the other arm rested against on top of the center console. I made the judgement call to reach over and take his free hand in mine. I did so loosely, allowing him to let go if he wanted to, but if anything he laced his fingers with mine tighter. I looked down at our hands, smiling, then back towards Ted’s face. He was smiling widely, but when he saw me looking he made a stupid attempt of trying to play it off and act like he wasn’t smiling, but I started laughing so he eventually fell into laughter with me. We didn’t talk much on the way to my house other than me giving directions every now and then. He didn’t let go of my hand the whole time, except when he had to put the car in park.
I stared out his window towards the front of my dark building. I knew no one was home, and it was probably pretty cold inside since I usually forget to turn on the heater before leaving for school.
“I guess this is me.” He watched me throw my bag over my shoulder as I stepped out of the car. “Thank you Theodore. For everything.”
“Ted.”
“What?”
“You can call me Ted.”
I smiled at him. “Right. Thank you. Ted.”
I shut his car door and walked up my sidewalk, but I turned when I heard another car door shutting behind me.
“y/n, wait.” Ted was walking towards me, hands shoved in his pockets as the giant man toward over me. “I, uh, I really enjoyed being your fake boyfriend tonight.”
“I enjoyed it too-“
“And I enjoyed sweeping the stage with you. And holding your hand. And dancing with you. And driving you home. And arguing over food. And laughing. And sharing music. And pretty much everything. And I don’t want it to be because I’m your fake boyfriend you happened to be on a fake date with because we happened to be in the same place at the same time.” He sucked in a breath as he took my hand gently. He stared at our fingers and palms pressed together. “I want to do all that stuff because I’m your real boyfriend. I want to dance with you and take you on dates to shitty diners and act all jealous because it’s real.”
I could feel my face burning. “You were jealous?”
He laughed a little bit. “Oh my God, yes, I was jealous, he was flirting!!” I laughed, gripping his hand a little harder, then pulling it downwards. “Ouch! What the-“
I placed a kiss on his cheek, and I watched him short circuit as his whole face turned red. “Theodore, I would like to let you know, I am free tomorrow night for a date if that’s what your asking.”
“OH. Okay! Yeah is 7 okay?”
“7 is perfect.”
“Yes! Yes yes!” He pulled me in for a hug and kissed the top of my head. “Oh my god! Okay. Tomorrow, 7!”
I laughed, still trapped in his arms. “I expect dancing.”
“Oh absolutely.” He pushed me back a bit, smiling as he stared at me. “I have to go home. I have to get ready!”
“For a date in 24 hours?”
“Yes! I have plans to make!” He kissed me on the forehead again and ran back to the car. Hand on the handle, he looked back at me, smiling. “I can’t wait.”
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Permanent Chaos (5/?)
Pairing: MGK x Female!Reader
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: none
Part Summary: Colson and Y/N talk over coffee and Colson shows her a hint of what it’s like to be a part of his world.
Masterlist
The Starbucks in the courtyard has since emptied out with everyone having to return to work after their breaks. Colson and I are two of the only remaining people inside. My hands are wrapped around cup, it’s nice and warm. I had to remove the lid to cool down the substance. We’ve been going back and forth, sharing facts about ourselves.
"Have you always wanted to be an actress?”
Studying the dark brown drink in my cup I recall memories from before I moved here.“No, in all honesty. I never saw myself as an actress.”
He doesn’t try to hide his surprise. His stunned reaction makes me giggle.
"If you don’t mind me asking, why do you do it then?”
I sway my head from side to side. “It sorta just worked out. I was out shopping with my mom one day when I was in high school. Nicole approached us. She was in town on business and encouraged me to at least visit Los Angeles so we could set up a meeting. The next thing I knew I was in auditions and I got my part on The Seasons of Life a few months later.”
“Wow,” his brows remain raised as he glances down at his drink. “If you weren’t acting what would you be doing?”
Sitting up straight, I remember what I once thought was my dream life. “First I would go to college and…” I wave my hand, dismissing the thought.
Colson presses for me to say it. “you’d what? Come on!” He chuckles, grinning brightly.
Rolling my eyes, I tell him. “I’d go to art school.” I bite my lip timidly. “Yeah... that would be nice.” I pick at the cardboard wrap on the cup.
There’s a comfortable silence between us until I change the subject. “Enough about me! What about you? If you weren’t a singer, where would be right now?”
He looks over in the distance, almost envisioning where his life would be. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” he shrugs but is pleased, “I’ve always loved music. Being in music allows me to do what I love.”
I nod, almost impervious of him and his contentment.
“However,” he adds pointing at me. “If it were up to my parents, I would have some office job probably.”
"Eh, those jobs are so bland. I vote you stick to concerts," I giggle.
He laughs and it’s contagious.
My gaze lands on his arm as he reaches for his coffee. His entire arm is covered in ink. I was taught by my parents to despise tattoos. My mom would say, “why would anyone ever be willing to damage their body like that?” Finn jumped on that bandwagon. Whatever Mom says is considered fact to him. For the longest time, I agreed with them. That is until I met Colson. He was made to have tattoos.
I’ve seen many people in this city with tattoos but his aren’t just markings for the body, they’re art.
“Which one are you interested in?” He questions, watching me as I admire them.
“All of them,” I mumble, examining each one individually in awe.
Back where I’m from tattoos are frowned upon quite frankly. When you grow up in a place no different than Pleasantville, that’s what you get. Especially, in South Carolina.
“Do you have any?” He asks with amusement in his voice.
I shake my head rapidly, “never in a million years!” Comprehending how he could take my response as an insult I’m quick to explain. “I mean, I would never be allowed.”
His brows scrunch together. "Never been allowed? You’re an adult. Who’s stopping you?”
I can’t help but snicker a little. If only it was as simple as he makes it sound. “My parents, brother, Nicole, Steph..."
Colson narrows his eyes at me as he leans forward in his chair. “You’re your own person. You should be able to make your own decisions.” His argument is lacking and quite frankly too optimistic.
“It’s complicated…” My eyes fall onto my fingers picking at the cardboard rim of my coffee cup.
“If you say so… except all of them are keeping you from expressing yourself.”
I roll my eyes as my lips form a smirk. It’s unbelievable, he makes everything sound so black and white. “You’ll never understand,” I conclude.
“I understand more than you think.”
Lifting my eyes up, he stares at me with a sincere expression.
“Prove it,” I challenge him.
Based on the change of his features, I have given him exactly what he wants.
"If you say so, Princess," he chuckles, rising from his chair. I stare at him in confusion and he offers me his hand. "You coming?"
I smirk, slipping my hand into his. He grins and bites down on his lower lip. I'm going to regret this.
_______________________________________________
Driving around with a guy I’m only acquainted to is completely unlike me. Everyone who knows me would be beyond freaked out at the current scene. It's kind of riveting.
“We’ve been driving for almost an hour," I snicker.
“It’ll be worth it, trust me!”
“Where exactly are we going?”
“The mystery is half the fun!” Colson enjoys the antics.
I reach forward and change the radio station. Yungblud's "Parents" plays and I leave it. "Love this song," I mumble to myself.
Colson glances over me, evidently surprised. "You know Dom's music?"
"What? Just because you view me as a 'goody-two-shoes' doesn't mean I live under a rock." I giggle and hold my finger for him to wait a second. He chuckles. I begin to rap the lyrics from memory. "Yeah, the teacher fucked the preacher. But then he had to leave her. Had to wash away the sins of a male cheerleader. Hi, nice to meet ya, got nothing to believe in. So let me know when my breathing stops!"
Colson turns up the volume to blasting and we then shout the chores together. I can’t remember the last time I had the chance to drive with the windows down, blasting music, and acting my age. I’ve forgotten what’s it like to just be a young girl, not working all the time.
Once the song fades out, he turns down the volume.
"So, she can rap too!" Colson looks at me, rather impressed.
I dismiss his compliment with a wave of my hand. "Only if I've listened to a song a dozen times."
"Not gonna lie, that was hot," he chuckles.
Warmth rushes to my cheeks and I struggle not to smile. My head rests against the window as I watch the ocean become a blur as we drive down the PCH.
_______________________________________
Colson drives down the road until there’s a dead end. To my surprise and then confusion, he parks the car.
“We’re here!" He announces before jumping out of the car.
There’s nothing here. Bushes, sad-looking trees, and dirt. I watch as he walks over to a clearing between some bushes.
He peers over his shoulder. “You coming?”
I take a deep breath and swing open the door. Following him to wherever we are, I spot a sign.
No Trespassing!
“Hey Colson, that sign said no trespassing. We should go back.”
He doesn’t even slow down as he walks down a weak path. “I’ve seen it, they never do anything.”
With every passing moment, this road trip becomes more and more out of my comfort zone. Nicole and my entire team for that matter have guided me to prefer the indoors these past few years. I can’t remember the last time I spent an entire day outside in nature or not following a schedule.
There’s a light at the end of the tunnel when the brush ends and the path opens up to a clearing. The sound of waves hitting the cliff before us echoes throughout the area.
I cautiously step closer to the edge and look down to the bottom. “Wow!” I say to myself breathlessly.
Colson peers down to the shoreline beside me. He then suddenly removes his jacket and moves on to his shirt.
My jaw drops and I quickly direct my attention to the coastline far from him. I bring my hand to the side of my face shyly, blocking my sight of him undressing. “What the hell are you doing?”
He chuckles behind me. I’m glad he can find so much amusement in my discomfort. “Cliff diving!” He says a matter of factly.
“What! No you couldn’t! It’s illegal in these parts! You could get killed!”
“Or, I’ll jump, have loads of fun and do it again!” He debates.
I huff, crossing my arms over my chest. “Fine, you live out your death wish. I won’t be participating!” Whipping around and avoiding even sharing a short glance with him, I stomp toward the direction we came.
He drops his shirt on top of his jacket in the grass and jogs to catch up to me. He squeezes my shoulder, using the other hand to plea with me. I whip my head around to face him. That's when I notice his tattoo-covered chest.
“Oh let’s do it, Princess!" He encourages. "It’ll be thrilling! An adventure! Reckless! Something different!”
Did he just call me Princess? No one has ever called me that and he has twice now.
Colson takes my hand into both of his and I’m thrown off by the action. “Be spontaneous with me,” he requests softly.
Currently, I’m debating with myself. The youthful part of me is screaming ‘hell yes! Let’s do this!’ The businesswoman part of me is wiser than to take such a risk. I check over at the edge again. My willingness to do such a rebellious action is new to me. There’s no one here to see us. Paparazzi isn’t around to take pictures. Perhaps the cause of my newfound bravery is because of him.
I take a deep breath and nod. “Okay, let’s do it.”
As if he already knew I would eventually accept, his grin only grows.
“Well then, I suggest you strip unless you prefer to sit around like a wet dog for the hour ride back.” He winks at me, biting his lower lip.
In a normal case, I would be insulted by such a forward request but considering where we stand I find it humorous. After thoroughly checking the area for any cameras or strangers, I slip my dress over my head then kick off my wedges. An odd feeling stirs in my stomach and my heart is pounding. My comfort zone is shot to hell.
Tossing my hair up in a ponytail, Colson scans my appearance.
“Excuse me Mr. Baker, it’s not nice to stare,” I tease, yanking at my finished ponytail to tighten it.
Unfazed, he snaps out of it and faces the shore. His hair wisps around in the breeze, falling over his face. The perfect strands are just as light as his eyes. His jawline could cut a diamond. His skin, as smooth as porcelain but covered in various tattoos.
“Excuse me Miss Voss, it’s not nice to stare,” he repeats my words back to me.
I snap out of my daze. “Wasn’t staring,” I argue, now turning towards the coast.
“Nothing to be ashamed of, I know I'm hot.” His lips curve into a loose smirk.
My time with him is often one big eye roll. I slowly approach the edge of the cliff, peering over.
“Nervous?” He checks, looking down at the water for himself.
“Nope." I lie.
“Scared?”
“No.”
“Have you jumped from a cliff before?”
I exhale deeply. “No.”
He shifts his body to face me and I flicker my eyes to the side to meet his gaze.
“And you’re not afraid?” He checks.
“Not at all,” I admit without hesitation.
He snickers, whether it be because he’s impressed or he doesn’t believe me. “How come?”
I shrug, a brief hum for an answer escaping me. “The unknown doesn’t scare me, only challenges me… and I love a challenge,” I wink with a sly grin.
His warm hand interlocks with mine and I nearly yank mine away yet because of the non-threatening look in his eyes, I stay. In fact, a part of me likes the feeling of his large hand in mine. It makes me feel safer than I have in quite some time.
“On three” he exhales, staring off into the distance.
I nod.
“One," he counts. “Two...”
I exhale. I can't believe I'm doing this!
"Three!" Colson shouts.
I jump. Out of instinct, I squeeze Colson’s hand tighter. My voice travels in a scream as the two of us fall towards the crystal blue surface. He was right, this is such a rush! We torpedo into the water and the cold temperatures engulf me. Colson and I lose touch at some point then I kick to the surface. Wiping the excess water from my face, Colson pops up from under the water in front of me. Somehow even when wet and disheveled his hair still appears effortlessly pristine.
“Wasn't that a rush!” His arm snakes around my waist.
A part of me is begging for me to protest but I suppress that part of me. Instead, I rest my arms over his shoulders. He takes the opportunity to guide my legs around his waist. Shading my eyes from the sun with my hand I measure the height of where we jumped.
Still struggling to catch my breath, I can’t help but smile widely. “It was a one-time opportunity!”
“That’s up to you to decide!” he argues wittily.
I lower my hand and his blue eyes see right through me. My eyes flicker down to his lips and impulsively, I slam my lips to his. I'm not sure what comes over me, but I needed to kiss him. Colson wastes no time, bringing a hand behind my head, deepening the kiss. We break apart only to catch our breath.
“I believe you’ll prove to be a bad influence,” I say lightheartedly but between the lines with the utmost seriousness.
“That depends on how you look at it,” he argues, his breathing inconstant.
Hungrily, he brings his lips back to mine and I melt into it. Colson is everything that’s bad for me. He’s an indulgence that’s disguising itself as a need. He’s toxic and I’m ignoring the warnings. The warmth of his palm radiates onto my face as he cups it.
Against my lips, he grins. “You were spontaneous! Always be spontaneous!” His words, nearly sounding like a beg, settle in me.
His crystal blues eyes stare into mine and I can’t help but be addicted. I'm falling for a fairytale.
________________________________________
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