#buttersnitzle

[home-and-having-tea]

@phonoix @buttersnitzle @bigpeepee

idk if elon will kill his new chatbot grok when he finds out its woke, but he'll definitely kill it once he discovers it's funnier than him

[skaikruswan]

I walk beside you - Chapter 3

Summary: “I have not heard these words in ages,” a deep, male voice says, and before you can answer, you wake up.Your dreams start changing once you realize that you’re not alone as you think. Who is this man and why does he know you? How do you know him?

Pairing: Dream / Morpheus x reader

Chapter 1       Chapter 2               My other fics / prompts 

AO3: May everyone who leaves a kudo (or even a comment) awake well-rested. 

Chapter 3 

You wish you could say that you were ready to fall asleep, but you weren’t. You arrived at your home, your head full of questions, with your heart demanding answers.

Morpheus. The name has rung a bell, and one quick research later has revealed that in Greek mythology, he’s the god of dreams. You sat in stupor for a while, blankly staring at the screen. You managed to meet the god of dreams, and somehow share a profound history with him. A history you want to unravel.

You let out a long sigh as you pace around in your bedroom. You’re not stupid. From what he has told you, you have concluded that he has met several versions of you, each one unique, each one meeting him without any past knowledge. Incarnations. If you’re not completely wrong, this means that you’re the most recent reincarnation. This sounds like something out a supernatural tv show or book, and for your state of mind, you try not to think too much about it.

You grab a pillow and throw it up like a ball, eager to occupy your hands. You still have so many questions, but there is one only you can answer.

Do you want to get involved with him? You’ve always liked fantasy and know many stories of mortals giving their hearts to immortals. It often ended in tragedy, for the mortal and the immortal. Does he miss and mourn each incarnation? Wouldn’t it be a kindness to spare him the pain of losing you? Then again, you feel as if he remembers your past incarnations fondly. He had been nothing but kind and understanding as he answered your questions, a soft look on his eternal face as he seems to sink into his memories.

He may be fond of them, but will he be fond of you? That is another question that plagues you. Then again, if you don’t try, you will never know.

You squeeze the pillow, your mind made up. You’ve accepted this challenge, and you will see it through. Maybe the next dream can be something like a first date? You smush your face in the pillow, your cheek already growing hot.

Lying down on your bed, pulling your soft blanket over you, you are ready.

The beach is still beautiful, but you couldn’t care less as your toes sink into the white sand. Twirling around, you race towards the forest. This is a dream, your dream. You assume that it is Morpheus who intervenes, conjuring up the storm, but how certain are you? Maybe it is a part of being an incarnation?

After running down the path, you take a deep breath. Part of you wonders what will happen if you continue without saying the phrase, but you have a hunch that it won’t work. Moreover, it would be boring and anti-climactic.

“The path before me doesn’t frighten me, I want to forever walk beside you.” You don’t wait for the storm to start, you just walk. You walk until every step feels like you’ve run a marathon, your lungs heaving for air as you walk inside the eye of a storm.

Enough of that. Time to take control and make some progress. Will it work? Hopefully. But right now, it’s your best shot.

You close your eyes, comfortable in the darkness that seems to drown out everything else. You picture a meadow, the grass soft and swaying in the faint breeze. Red, blue, white, yellow, purple, pink, every color you like fills your vision as flowers, from simple daisies to fancy orchids, bloom. You see it so vividly that you can almost smell the floral fragrance.

You open your eyes, and the storm is gone as you’re standing inside that meadow.

“Wohoo!” you cheer, savoring your victory. For a moment, you think that you hear a deep chuckle. The meadow really is lovely, and you’re almost tempted to stay for a while, but you have places to go. The palace and Morpheus are waiting.

To your surprise, you see one path leading you away from the meadow. You don’t know if you have been walking for a minute or for hours; time is weird anyhow in dreams. You walk through a desert, scrambling up and down the dunes. You walk over a snowy mountain, the snowflakes melting on your cheeks. You walk through a big city, feeling almost back in reality, if it weren’t for the fact that there is not a soul around you.

How big is the dream world? It feels endless, and you can’t even see the palace. But you know that if you stop, even just for a little break, that it will be hell to get back. So you suck it up and march on.

You arrive at a massive gate, stretching as far as you can see. Fantastic beings, animals, and figures are carved in awe-inspiring detail, gleaming like finest ivory. If this is another challenge, you’re going to force yourself to wake up and come back the next night, you decide as you carefully knock three times.

“You have made it. Impressive.” You hoped that he would appear, but seeing Morpheus appear at your side still startles you. You lean over, your hands resting on your knees as you take a deep breath. As you stand up straight, you see something almost like pride gleaming inside these fathomless eyes. He still looks like a dark vision, messy inky hair matching his black clothes. His face is hard to put into words, and you suddenly understand why ancient artists spend centuries trying to capture the splendor of the gods.

“I could have done it in my sleep,” you say with a nonchalant shrug. After that journey, you deserve to brag a little. You wonder how long the other incarnations have taken to reach the castle, before stopping that train of thought. You’re not comparing yourself.

“You did well.” It’s easy to miss, but there was a small smile on his lips, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Allow me to bring us into the palace,” Morpheus asks, extending his hand. You give him high credit for asking, for letting you choose. You figure that a god isn’t used to considering other people. You nod, laying your hand on his, feeling his long fingers hold onto you.

The next moment, you’re standing inside the palace, a long staircase winding upside to a platform where a dark throne stands. You’ve been in churches and cathedrals, but their windows can’t hold a candle to these three massive glass artworks. Each time you blink they seem to change: a sky of twinkling stars, a garden full of roses, the northern lights, your favorite picture of you and your best friend. It is almost fascinating enough to rip you away from the man next to you.

“This is a palace worthy of a god,” you whisper, before covering your hand with your mouth. You meant what you said, but you don’t know why you said it out loud. You don’t want to reduce Morpheus to his palace or his godhood.

“I am not a god,” Morpheus states, and yet you feel his power, the core of his limitless force vibrating in this place. You have no doubt that he’s the ruler of this palace, of this realm.

“Aren’t you Morpheus, the Greek god of dreams?” you ask, your curiosity boundless and you self-preservation non-existent. In this moment, you choose to ignore all the terrible fates you’ve read about mortals who offended or defied gods.

“No. I am older than your gods. Morpheus is only one of the many names humanity has given me: Kaikul, Oneiros, Tutu, to name a few. I am Dream of the Endless.”

You open your mouth, and close it again. He’s more than a god. What kind of being stands over gods? You swallow thickly, wishing for a moment that you had never brought up the subject. You like to believe that this is normal, that your mortal mind just needs time to come to terms with that. You think that you will stick to calling him Morpheus, since that name suits him.

He’s standing still, his arms crossed, seemingly waiting for you to react. How often did he have that conversation? Did the other incarnations react better or worse than you? Questions upon questions, and you want to scream into the abyss.

“Great boss, I think you broke her,” a voice snarks, and you latch onto that comment, eager for some diversion. A familiar raven soars above the throne before flying down and landing one the bottom stair.

“Birdie?” you ask, taking one step forward to give the raven an inquiring look. You’re no expert on ravens, but this one really looks like the one from the previous days.

“It’s Matthew, thank you very much. Oh, and thanks for the treat,” the raven answers. Even while dreaming, talking animals remain amazing, and you let out a stupefied laugh.

“Do we know each other?” you ask Matthew and Morpheus, only for both to shake their heads. You deflate a little; having somebody other than Morpheus to talk to would have been nice.

“Sorry, I am very new at the job, and this is just as exciting to me than it is to you. I didn’t know that the boss had…” His answer was cut short by a withering glare from Morpheus, and you grin. You need to have a solo conversation with Matthew.

“Matthew’s predecessor, Jessamy, used to know some of your incarnations. Most of them considered her a friend. I think she would have liked you,” Morpheus explains, his voice filled with sorrow, the grief almost palpable on his face. Matthew lets out a doleful caw.

“I am sorry,” you say, hesitantly reaching out to hold his hand. He lets you, and you circle your thumb over the smooth back of his hand. You hope that you didn’t overstep, but as you steal a glance at him, his expression a little less pained, you think that you didn’t.

“So am I.” He squeezes your hand before letting go. The moment has passed, but you know that there will be others.

“There is a place I would like you to see,” Morpheus says, and once again your reach for his extended hand.

This time, you find yourself in the center of a great library, bookshelves upon bookshelves stretching far and high, the scent of paper and leather filling your nose.

“Wow.”

[dreamhot]

Since you’re the local Dream expert do you know if he’s apple juice team or orange juice team. This is important

admittedly i do not know u_u does anyone have any idea if this has been discussed before?

[fraseris]

I am LIVING for the absolutely unhinged Tubbo content and theories. Amazing

thank you thank you

[taxolotl]

For the Spotify wrapped post, 69 cause why not :)))

69: would that i - hozier

[anarchiststories]

Hello I found u on ao3 and I just wanted to say love ur works! They’re all very well written and swag :)

well thank you haha!

i try my hardest to write good things ^^ speaking of which..

i'm currently rewriting a piglin and a dream bc i don't like it that much and i know i can do better, as well as writing a horror sbi story that randomly sprung out while reading through prompts

idk when piglin will be finished being rewritten, but i do know it'll have 4-5 chapters total. the sbi thing will have 13-15 (you'll understand why so many when it gets released)

welcome to soup uses an ask to promote things :,) /j

[katyasrussianaccent]

you're so golden

Summary: You're a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

So I think we've got one final part and then we are done! Let me know what you think 💖

Masterlist

The view from the top of the hill is beautiful, a whole city reduced to nothing but lights. It’s a little chilly, the once warm air below is now replaced by a breeze that wraps itself around your bare arms. You curse yourself for not bringing a jacket as you watch Corpse unfold a blanket and placing it on the grass. Sitting down, you cross your legs underneath yourself and rub your arms in a poor attempt to warm yourself up.

“Oh, no. I’m fine, thanks,” you say.

He scoffs. “You’re shivering. Just take the jacket.”

He scoffs. “You’re shivering. Just take the jacket.”

“But you’ll be cold,” you reply as you wrap it round yourself. It smells like him and you resist the urge to bury your nose in it, to cover yourself in the scent of him. A bold idea runs through your mind and you know it could either way by suggesting it. “We could share it?”

Corpse looks at you in questioning and you open the jacket, showing the space beside you. You can see him thinking it over and you’re about to change the subject but he moves close to you, pulling the jacket over his shoulder. You’re not quite touching, but the close proximity radiates heat against the side of you.

You sit in silence as you watch the city move below you, though unlike before, it’s not awkward but comfortable.

“I’m glad you came,” Corpse says, and you turn to face him. He’s beautiful up close, like no-one you had ever seen before.

“Me too,” you reply smiling. He glances briefly to your lips, but it’s so quick you would’ve missed it had your eyes not been glued to his face. There’s a tension between you, like the moment’s about to happen but neither one of you wants to make the first move. You sit staring at each other when his fingers move to your cheek.

“Eyelash,” he states simply and you’re holding your breath as he brushes it off, fighting every urge to shiver at this slightest of touch.

“Thanks.” The tension is still there, more so now that he’s crossed the boundary of physical touch and you can’t help but sneak a glance at his lips and when you look back up, he’s still staring at you.

You decide to listen to your heart rather than your head, and move into his space, pressing a chaste kiss before retreating, your heart beating wildly in your chest. It’s barely a kiss, more a quick touch of lips but you just had to see what it was like. He looks surprised, but not confused or angry.

“What’d you do that for?” he asks, a smile forming on his lips, and your body releases tension you didn’t realise you had. Maybe you should listen to your heart more often.

Placing a finger against your chin, you pretend to think. “Hmm just wanted to see if I liked it.”

He raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his face and you blush slightly. “And? What’s the verdict?”

“I think more testing is needed,” you reply, laughing as he pulls you close, his hand on your waist, the jacket falling from both of your shoulders as he peppers your cheeks in kisses. He pulls away, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows before he leans in, kissing you once, twice.

You’ve kissed before; boys and girls, strangers and friends. But this, this felt different. It wasn’t fireworks, it was warm and comforting, like a cup of tea on a cold morning. The rest of the night is filled with stupid conversation and sneaking glances at each other. As the night draws to a close, you begin to feel sadness at the prospect of not being around him until you meet again.

“Wait, give me your phone,” Corpse says as you stand. You look at him puzzled before unlocking it and handing it over. He snaps a picture of himself before grabbing a bottle and leaning the phone against it. You watch in amused bewilderment as he stands behind the phone, leaning so far down he may aswell be lying on the ground. Jumping over the bottle, he grabs your hand and positions you both so your back’s facing the camera.

“We make a very attractive shadow couple,” you comment as he hands your phone back.

He hums in agreement. “We do. I’m glad you didn’t write me off after the first time.” You’re touched at the genuine tone to his words, and you smile at him.

“Well, I kinda like you.” you reply, shrugging.

You take a few more pictures together, and you take one of just him, his back to you, the city below him like he’s a ruler. You’re packing up to leave when he turns to you.

“Want to know a secret? I kind of like you too,” he says.

You grin and scrunch your nose up. “Ew, we’re bordering on simp territory.”

“I’m okay with that.”

You walk down together in silence, your hands brushing against each other with each step, and eventually Corpse grabs your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You glance down at your intertwined hands and smile.

“Guess I should head back,” you say as you reach your car. You feel that sadness again, this heaviness in your heart that you try to swallow down, offering a tight smile at him.

“You could,” he starts before pausing, like he’s trying to work out what to say. “You could come to my place? If you wanted, get some sleep and leave in the morning.”

“Oh I -”

“It’s fine. I can sleep on the couch, you can take the bed,” he interrupts.

You mull his words over, a little nervousness creeping into your head. “I didn’t bring anything though.”

His brow furrows in confusion before he realises what you mean. “Oh, uh, you could borrow a t-shirt or something?”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.”

He grins at your response and you walk back together, a lightness in your steps at the thought of spending more time with him.

Taglist: (CLOSED)

@genshinglitter @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @clubfairy @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmarvel @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @hydrate-tion @oi-itsemily @letsloveimagines @softforqiankun @evilunicorns4minions @captain-willowwitch @afuckingunicornn @theroyalbrownbarbie @buttersnitzle @officiallyunofficialperson @frostbitelokii @butterfly-skinnylegend @sofianunes10 @ghostfacefricker6969 @alienvarmint @helena-way07 @woah2pointo @jasmine2042003 @youhyakuya @adore-holland @hyunjinhugs @finahja @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @only-corpse-hands @crystal-bear @open-minded-chip-101 @daveedfanfics @justakpopstans @majasophieanna @meowtella @lizzylynch1 @chesca-791 @anescapefromtheworld @lost--in--the--moon @golden-ghost @captnrogers @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @xoxohannahlee @strobe-edge

[home-and-having-tea]

@bigpeepee @buttersnitzle @phonoix

[phrog-prince-ess]

New Follower!!!

@buttersnitzle !! Thank you for the follow! I hope you are having a great day, love, and take care!

[katyasrussianaccent]

you're so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You're a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors note: Next part! Im debating whether to make the next part the last part or not but we'll see cos I want to write the 2nd meeting and idk I have ideas!

Masterlist

Taglist (CLOSED) @genshinglitter @fanworrior@cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @clubfairy @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmarvel @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @hydrate-tion @oi-itsemily @letsloveimagines @softforqiankun @evilunicorns4minions @captain-willowwitch @afuckingunicornn @theroyalbrownbarbie @buttersnitzle @officiallyunofficialperson @frostbitelokii @butterfly-skinnylegend @sofianunes10 @ghostfacefricker6969 @alienvarmint @helena-way07 @woah2pointo @jasmine2042003 @youhyakuya @adore-holland @hyunjinhugs @finahja @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @only-corpse-hands @crystal-bear @open-minded-chip-101 @daveedfanfics @justakpopstans @majasophieanna @meowtella @lizzylynch1 @chesca-791 @anescapefromtheworld @lost--in--the--moon @golden-ghost @captnrogers @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @xoxohannahlee @strobe-edge

[ibelonginthepast]

r u and buttersnitzle the same person

nope babe i never knew them before this. did u just ask that because of our swirl paint backgrounds lol? me and @krishnas-sugarbaby-wannabe are the same person.

anyways, you better be taking care, have some water when u see this and try to eat a fruit today cause it's healthy <3

[home-and-having-tea]

@phonoix @buttersnitzle @bigpeepee

[katyasrussianaccent]

you're so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You're a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors Note: Sorry for the delay in uploading! Hopefully this makes up for it 👀 We still have a few more parts before this is finished so lemme know what you think!

Masterlist

Taglist: @genshinglitter @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @clubfairy @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmarvel @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @hydrate-tion @oi-itsemily @letsloveimagines @softforqiankun @evilunicorns4minions @captain-willowwitch @afuckingunicornn @theroyalbrownbarbie @buttersnitzle @officiallyunofficialperson @frostbitelokii @butterfly-skinnylegend @sofianunes10 @ghostfacefricker6969 @alienvarmint @helena-way07 @woah2pointo @jasmine2042003 @youhyakuya @adore-holland @hyunjinhugs @finahja @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @only-corpse-hands @crystal-bear @open-minded-chip-101 @daveedfanfics @justakpopstans @majasophieanna @meowtella @lizzylynch1 @chesca-791 @anescapefromtheworld @lost--in--the--moon @golden-ghost @captnrogers @backseat-serenade-dizzyhurricane @xoxohannahlee @strobe-edge

[katyasrussianaccent]

you're so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You're a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Author's Note: Don't hate me! This was gonna be a cute chapter but then I decided against that. Credit to @moontwinkles for the spilling scene idea. Let me know what you think!

Masterlist

The sound of your alarm wakes you from your slumber with a suddenness. Bleary-eyed, you roll over to turn it off, letting out a small sigh as your body and brain start to awaken. You’re going to meet Corpse. You’re going to meet Corpse. It bares repeating in your mind; the prospect still not quite registering.

You haven’t had the greatest sleep, your mind racing most of the night; skittish little thoughts that had you tapping your toes on the mattress in agitation as you struggled to turn them off. Sunlight streams through the cracks in your blinds, a warm glow painted in stripes on your wall. It was going to be a good day, tiredness be damned.

You get up, stretching your arms out as wide as possible and relishing in the relief as your muscles unclench themselves. There’s a little spring in your step as you walk to the bathroom, to wash your face and brush your teeth. You aren’t nervous as you pick out your favourite outfit, instead you feel excited. It’s funny how little scraps of fabric and thread can impact your mood so much, but you smile at your reflection, the feeling of confidence is nice, albeit rare.

The rumbling in your stomach signals that you need to eat something before you leave. Nothing too fancy, just some toast and a glass of juice. You can feel the nerves start to grow a little, the food sits heavy on your tongue, forcing you to swallow it. You grab your phone, scrolling as you chew. You go onto Corpse’s twitter, smiling at the picture he’s posted.

Out of curiosity, you go onto his likes. You always find his likes interesting; the random things he’s added gives you more of an insight to his thoughts and feelings. You chew the inside of your cheek as you scroll down past girls with perfect skin and bodies; your previous confidence now feels a little misplaced.

Deciding against letting it ruin your mood, you close the tab and go to grab your bag before locking your door and heading to your car. You text Rae to let her know you’re leaving and she replies almost immediately to wish you luck. Sitting in front of the steering wheel, you exhale as you start the engine and begin to drive. This was really happening. When Corpse had asked to meet, you were shocked. While you had discussed it, you had been under the assumption it would be a while before it happened. You just hope you don’t make an idiot of yourself; a tendency you had when you were nervous.

While you love the city, there’s something about driving on the open road. No noise, just the sound of tires on concrete. The scenery remains the same; nothing but trees and the occasional house far in the horizon. You’re meeting him in Santa Barbara; a place you’ve been to once in your life, so it might as well be brand new. It’s halfway between both of you, and while it’s still a few hours drive, you’ve got good music and some sunshine to keep you happy.

The drive flies in and before you know it, you’ve arrived. You’re meeting at a cafe that sells bubble tea; it was Corpse’s recommendation. It’s a charming little place, with white table and chairs on a cobbled patio area. The building itself is white brick, plant pots decorate the window sills and there’s a small crowd of people waiting in line. You turn off the engine, and grab the perfume out your bag, the smell of peaches invading your nostrils. With one last look at yourself, you exit your car and make your way to the cafe.

You’re not sure how you’ll find him, being faceless and all. A quick scan of the people around you, your eyes zero in on a figure dressed all in black, leaning against a wall that’s slightly in the shade. There’s butterflies in your stomach as you look at him from afar, your feet apparently unable to move on their own accord. He stands out amongst the brightly coloured outfits of everyone else, and you can see the sun glint against the chains on his jeans.

“Hi,” you greet, your hand going up to half-wave at him. He’s handsome; pale skin and cheekbones that disappear under the fabric of his mask. A mop of black curls are atop his head, falling out in different directions, and he brushes one off his forehead as he looks at you.

“Hey,” he replies and you smile a little. There’s a thick fog of awkwardness between you as you both take each other in, though trying not to look so obvious about it. You feel under scrutiny as his eyes move over you, and you meet his gaze before you both look down at the ground, a faint blush on your cheeks.

“How was the drive?,” you ask at the same time he does, causing you both to laugh. “Oh. Uh yeah it was good, thanks, how was yours?”

“Yeah it was good,” he replies, his eyes still on the ground.

“That’s good.”

“Yeah.”

You scream internally as your eyes dart around, looking for something, anything to break this awkwardness. It shouldn’t be like this, you have such great chemistry on the phone and online, but there’s nothing right now. Is it you? There’s a niggling in your brain that says he was fine until now; until he saw you.

“We could go, uh, into the cafe? Get some food?” he suggests, breaking you from your self deprecating thoughts. You nod and you follow him to the door. He opens it and you dodge out the way as it narrowly escapes hitting you in the face. Corpse mutters an apology as he walks in, his eyes glued to the ground.

You order together; you get yourself a boba tea and a burger and Corpse does the same. He pays without saying anything to you, and while the day’s isn’t going quite as you pictured, the gesture makes your cheeks warm. You desperately hope it gets better. Maybe you’ve misread the situation and the chemistry you felt you had was just friendship on his part. Friends flirt all the time, and it doesn’t have to mean anything.

Your food arrives and you sit in relative silence as you eat. The times you do speak is stilted, full of one word answers and obvious observations. You go to reach for your boba as Corpse goes to grab salt, and the movement of his hand plus the crampedness of the table pushes your own hand back towards you, knocking the cup all over your neck and chest. Corpse shoots up in a speed that shouldn’t be human, his hand full of napkins as he comes towards you. The liquid is cold against your skin, and you look down to see your outfit now ruined, the fabric sticking to you in wet patches.

“I’m such a fucking idiot, I’m so sorry,” Corpse says, his tone panicky as he dabs at your neck. He continues to dab, his hands pressing at the neckline of your top and if this was another time, you’d feel all fluttery at his hands on your skin. But it’s not, you’re uncomfortable and the day has sucked so far and all you want to do is go home. He discards the napkin onto the table and grabs another, his fingers warm against your collarbone as he presses the tissue. He doesn’t realise that he’s travelling downwards to your chest before he presses once, twice, before retracting his hand back like he’s been burned, the napkin falling to the floor. “Uh fuck, sorry, I didn’t realise I - “

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. “I’ve always wanted apple scented boobs, guess I can check that off my bucket list.” It’s a failed joke but humour is a defence mechanism for you, even if it’s not very funny. Corpse widens his eyes a little, his gaze fixed on the napkin that’s on the floor.

He hands you some more napkins and you clean up a little more. Your skin feels sticky, and you smell of artificial apple; but the apple isn’t sweet, it’s bitter and slightly unpleasant.

“Uh, I should probably go home and get a shower, I feel like I fell into a vat of sugar,” you say, standing up and grabbing your bag.

“Oh, yeah, I’m so fucking sorry, I’m so clumsy,” Corpse replies. You can tell he feels awful, and while you sympathise, he’s not the one that’s just had almost a full cup of boba spilled on him.

You shake your head, “It’s fine, really. I just feel really gross. Don’t worry about it.” You smile in what you hope comes across as reassurance.

“Let me walk you back to your car,” he says. You nod and walk out together in silence; something you had gotten used to throughout the day.

“Have a safe drive back,” you say as you get to your car.

“I will. Let me know when you get home?” he asks, and you nod.

“Shall do. Goodbye Corpse,” you say, opening the door and waving at him through the window. He waves back and you watch him through the rearview mirror as he disappears out of sight. You feel like an idiot for believing this was going to be good, like you ever had a chance with him. You’d been saying it since the start; that it wouldn’t work, you had nothing in common, nothing to talk about. And you were right. Sometimes you hated being right.

You turn the engine on and sit there for a second, your head pressing against the steering wheel. What a waste of time this was. Grabbing your phone, you tweet quickly.

“Oh well, let’s go wallow in self pity,” you whisper before driving off.

Taglist: @genshinglitter @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @oi-itsemily @letsloveimagines @softforqiankun @evilunicorns4minions @captain-willowwitch @afuckingunicornn @theroyalbrownbarbie @buttersnitzle @officiallyunofficialperson @aha-red @frostbitelokii @butterfly-skinnylegend @sofianunes10 @ghostfacefricker6969 @alienvarmint @helena-way07 @woah2pointo @jasmine2042003 @youhyakuya @adore-holland @hyunjinhugs @finahja @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker @only-corpse-hands @remugoodgirl @gowhiteboygo-poggers @open-minded-chip-101 @daveedfanfics @justakpopstans @majasophieanna @mxjetlagcity @strawberrydonkey @meowtella @lizzylynch1 @chesca-791 @anescapefromtheworld @unded-bride @majasophieanna @adorkably @lost--in--the--moon @euphoricseokjin

[home-and-having-tea]

@phonoix @bigpeepee @buttersnitzle

[home-and-having-tea]

@phonoix @bigpeepee @buttersnitzle

i feel like i'm going Italian