#🫀 » an insatiable love for the dead (kenny)

[graveyardmuse]

FOURTEEN DAYS OF CUPID’S ARROW DAY ONE: FLOWERS

ship: kenny mccormick/rhiannon moore word count: one hundred rating: teen and up audiences warnings: implied character death (he’s fine now, though) summary: a dialogue-only drabble in which kenny seeks forgiveness after ghosting rhiannon.

“Ken, it’s the middle of the night, what do you even want?”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry for waking you up. But I feel really bad about flaking out on our date yesterday, so, I… I, uh, brought you flowers?”

“You pretty much disappeared off of the face of the planet.”

“…yeah, I know. Sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. C’mon, get your ass inside. I’m not letting you walk home in the dark— it can wait ‘til morning.”

“You’re the best. You know that, right?”

“Oh, I’m fully aware. Here, lemme put these in water, and then I’ll make some tea.”

[graveyardmuse]

SEI THIS IS SUCH A CUTE IDEA WHAT? mori kei soap forever… it’s real and true! to me!

I would like to submit my silly little freak for consideration, (in one of my favorite little outfits of his, as a bonus!)

Selfship reblog game :3

Reblog with an image of your f/o and i'll assign them a j-fashion style based on their vibes and/or color scheme!!

Exemple : Soap gets Mori Kei

Status : Open

[graveyardmuse]

FOURTEEN DAYS OF CUPID’S ARROW DAY SEVEN: SOFTER LANDINGS

ship: kenny mccormick/rhiannon moore word count: four hundred and fifty rating: teen and up audiences warnings: n/a summary: kenny needs to take a break. academic burnout is no joke.

“Ugh, why didn’t anyone tell me college was going to be this hard?”

“Ken, baby, I think we all told you.”

Kenny just sighs, burying his face in his hands and spinning in his chair so that he doesn’t have to look at the laptop anymore. It’s just taunting him at this point, the infernal machine— his head is so full of numbers and theory that it’s all starting to blur together, and he’s almost certain that if he tries to read one more sentence he’s going to get a hemorrhoid in his brain. Or a migraine. Or both.

“Peanut?”

“Yes, dear?” Rhiannon asks, voice soft and lilting in a way that’s immediate balm to his misery.

She’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, her video game long since abandoned in favor of watching him with unabashed fondness, and catching her eye through the gaps in his fingers makes his face feel quite warm.

(He wishes she’d keep looking at him like that forever.)

“I think I’m dying,” he mumbles. “I think this course is actually going to kill me for good.”

“You’re not dying.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure. C’mon, you don’t have to finish this tonight— take a break. I’ll order pizza, we can put on a movie. It’ll be nice.”

Tempting. Extremely tempting, especially when she was making eyes at him like that. But he’d hate to leave a project unfinished, and…

Oh, what the hell. He needs to give the concepts time to marinate, anyway.

“So, when you say pizza, do you mean greasy nonsense from a chain restaurant or the really good stuff from the shop down the block?”

“The good stuff, obviously. God knows you need it right now.”

Curled up in bed with an arm around his girl’s waist, watching trashy comedies and eating some of the best pizza he’s ever tasted… yeah, a guy could get used to this, for sure.

He could sit and watch her nestle into his side for hours, honestly. She was so sweet, so peaceful—

“What are you staring at me for, huh? Do I have something on my face?”

Never mind.

“Yeah, cuteness. And a smudge of marinara— here, let me just—”

“Kenneth! Did you just lick me?!”

He cackles, head falling back and almost slamming into the wall in the process. Karma, he supposes, for deliberately grossing her out.

“You’re lucky I love you, you butt.”

“The luckiest boy in the world. And I love you too, for the record.”

Things were hard, of course they were. But as long as they had each other—and they’d always have each other, no matter what—there would be a soft place to land.

Of that, at least, he was certain.

[graveyardmuse]

FOURTEEN DAYS OF CUPID’S ARROW DAY FOUR: NOT A DATE

ship: kenny mccormick/rhiannon moore word count: three hundred and fifty rating: teen and up audiences warnings: discussion of cults; specifically the fictional cult of cthulhu as depicted in canon. summary: two teenage vigilantes scope out a suspicious location. it's not a date, they swear.

“Remember, this is reconnaissance. We’re not actually on a date.”

That’s true, at least on paper. This isn’t a date; it’s teenage vigilantes scoping out a suspicious location together, heads on swivels and dorky superhero costumes hidden under their coats.

“Oh, ‘course not, sweetheart. Have you decided what you want yet? My treat.”

Rhiannon probably shouldn’t tease, not when this is such a touchy subject for Kenny— a pop-up café themed after Lovecraft’s body of work, in this town of all places? Definitely tied to the Cult of Cthulhu, a money laundering scheme at best. He’s twitchy, and rightfully so.

But he just makes it so easy, turning pink and scratching at the back of his neck, trying to play it cool and failing miserably.

“Uh…”

He lets out a harsh exhale through his teeth, brow furrowing. God, he’s so obscenely cute.

“I dunno, actually. Looks like they don’t have any plain coffee or anythin’.”

“Call of the Void Dark Roast, it’s on the first page of the menu.”

She taps the page they’re poring over together to show him and he makes a face, which makes her giggle.

The glare he cuts her in turn has absolutely zero heat to it. She doesn’t think he could actually look angry with her even if he tried.

“I’ll show them a fuckin’ call of the— ahem. Yeah, that. I’m getting that. What about you, huh?”

“Mm… same. It’s probably the least risky thing on the menu.”

His eyes go wide.

“Oh, shit, yeah. I wouldn’t drink it if I were you— that’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

There could be any number of mind-altering substances in the food, should the worst case scenario come to fruition. They need to be on alert.

“I won’t,” she assures, and her word is enough to make him relax, thank fuck. The last thing they need is to draw undue attention to themselves, and Kenny gets weird when he gets tense.

“Good. I owe you a better date when this is all over.”

“So this is a date?”

“Absolutely not. This sucks; I have standards.”

[graveyardmuse]

To take my mind off of my frustrations, I went ahead and made Kenny, Leo, and Rhi in this cool picrew— it’s inspired by the spiderverse movies, which I find extremely fitting because their superhero personas are my favorite sandbox to play in!

I’d put them around their early twenties here, since Ken’s working on the beard and failing miserably so far, whereas the thought of growing that stupid mustache (affectionate) has yet to cross Leo’s mind. They’re balancing growing into their own as young adults with living and working in the most fucked up place on earth, and it is going… questionably.

But they make it work. They’ll always make it work, no matter what.

(Make sure to click the images for best resolution!)

[graveyardmuse]

oh my goodness, this is adorable! and don't worry about your examples being feminine—

I promise, he doesn't mind at all. ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

(yes i made this gif specifically for this. no, i'm not very practiced at making pretty gifs, but i <3 having fun and being extra. and again, tysm!!)

Selfship reblog game :3

Reblog with an image of your f/o and i'll assign them a j-fashion style based on their vibes and/or color scheme!!

Exemple : Soap gets Mori Kei

Status : Open