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alstroemeriadissonance · 2 years ago

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NXX Turns Into Cat - Part 4 (Nyaartem)

Each NXX duder turns into a cat. Everyone else—Rosa, mostly—deals with the mess.

Separate Timelines for each NXX duder.

Hijinks and absolute pettiness (pun intended) ensue.

Pt 01 - Meowrius | Pt 02 - Vynyaa | Pt 03 - Lukemeow

As always, what greeted Artem the moment he opened the door to his penthouse apartment was deafening silence. He was used to it, of course, and most of the time the quiet was a welcome reprieve from the absolute turmoil he encountered at work on a daily basis.

But the absolute lack of activity once he crossed his threshold; that palpable absence of company, whether or not they were actual companions, or people in the background—like coworkers, or strangers sitting at the next table in the coffee shop—it got to him.

Sometimes.

Of course he would never admit it; after all, he had to convince himself that he needed the quiet. Artem needed to recuperate from the incessant commotion, the hustle and bustle, the sheer demands of his calling—these, on top of his own personal engagements.

Yet sometimes he wished that, for once, he’d experience having someone take care of him. Maybe even a friend who’ll casually tell him they got his back. Those little things that could make Artem feel he won’t fall through the cracks should he slip.

He hasn’t, not yet, as far as he knew.

But he knew he would, eventually.

In fact it was a miracle that he held his own for so long without making a major mistake, one that could cost everything, considering the enormous demands placed upon his shoulders.

Ah, hell.

He slumped into his sofa, completely spent.

Artem brought a hand to his necktie, loosening its knot as he tossed his briefcase onto a chair. Right. I need to cook dinner.

He sighed deeply. Despite his trademark conscientiousness he had neglected to prepare meals in advance. So for this week, instead of just grabbing a frozen bag of food from the freezer and chucking it into the oven, he had to cook dinner from scratch—this was something that Artem would not compromise on, not ever—but he had to admit…

…he was getting tired. Immensely so.

It would be nice to go home and be taken care of by someone. Anyone. Could be his mom, maybe—Artem had to laugh derisively at this thought—a girlfriend, or even a friend dropping by to hang out with him.

But he didn’t have a lot of friends in the city. His coworkers, with the exception of Celestine, automatically placed themselves underneath him as soon as they learned who he was. They never saw themselves as his equal—much less be inclined to be friends with him.

His mentor, the one who actually cared for him enough to remind him of anything he may have forgotten in the whirlwind of activity, was currently missing.

Artem had long accepted that he was alone, for the most part.

Hang on. Did I forget to pick up my suit from the cleaners? Grumbling, the lawyer fished out the receipt, reading the date when he could claim his freshly-cleaned suit: last Tuesday, three days ago.

Artem groaned, his hand with the cleaner’s receipt dropping to his side.

He had exactly two more days to claim it, before his suit got forfeited and disposed of. Yet he knew he had no time to do so; this weekend was packed full with appointments that the cleaners would be closed by the time he finished work.

Not if I remember to call them tomorrow, maybe ask if they could hold on to my clothes until next Monday, perhaps…

He was going to fish out his phone to tap a reminder into his calendar app, when he noticed a small, thin silken pouch laying on the sofa, just beside his hand.

It didn’t look like anything he would own, a flat pouch made of candy-pink silk, a calico cat embroidered on one side.

Yet somehow, he made it a point to bring the pouch wherever he went ever since he received it.

A good luck charm, of sorts.

It must have fallen off when I took out the receipt.

Artem may be tired, but he still smiled a little as the memory of how he came across such a strange item a week ago played out in his head:

It all happened when Rosa was sent on an overseas business trip along with Celestine. Left to do the fieldwork all by himself, he wound up finishing work past ten PM, all alone in North Stellis, too busy to even take a bite since breakfast.

In a stroke of luck he had chanced upon a 24/7 traditional Chinese noodle shop in the more rundown area, one that he had not seen before in his frequent trips to the district.

One would expect a newly-opened shop to look…new, but the strange noodle place appeared weathered, old—possibly older than that seedy part of town; come to think of it…

Even the proprietor who manned the shop by his lonesome looked almost old as sin itself and was attired in a priest's robes so unusual, that Artem thought it was a costume worn to add to the shop’s peculiar, mysterious air.

In any case, the noodles had been very good, and Artem felt a newfound vitality seep into his bones the moment he had finished the bowl.

The pink silken pouch had come with the change for his payment. “It’s a good luck charm, just for you, our first customer. Yes. Heh heh,” the old man’s grin had stretched a bit wider than normal; yet whenever Artem tried to conjure the exact image in his memory it came out too hazy, as if he had dreamed up the encounter. “Just hold it when you make your wish. Easy, yes?”

It was a bizarre experience, surely, but one that wasn’t enough to faze the country’s youngest senior attorney.

Artem held up the pink silk charm towards the ceiling, looking at its sheen as the shiny fabric caught the warm light of the floor lamp beside his sofa.

“Wishes, huh…”

I suppose there’s no harm in trying. What to wish for…ah.

I wish someone got my back. Look out for me when I’m tired, or can’t take care of myself.

Could be anyone.

Even for just a day.

I wish—

…

“Meow.”

===

Beep.

“Okay, it’s unlocked,” Luke quietly said as he pushed the door to Artem’s apartment, surreptitiously pocketing his keyring of emergency gadgets into his jacket as he walked through the main entrance.

“Marius, is the decoy CCTV footage still running?” Vyn silently gestured to Rosa to go ahead of him—ladies first, of course—into the foyer of the lawyer’s sizable penthouse suite.

“Yeap.” Marius tapped certain commands into his phone, then whistled as he eyed the interior after crossing the threshold. “Damn. Artem sure has a nice place,” then added under his breath, “...still a bit smaller than my room though.”

“When you are done with the one-sided pissing contest, make sure to restore the normal security feed as soon as you close the door behind you.”

“Tsk. Goddamn slave driver,” Marius muttered as he swiped a command onto the touchscreen of his phone, then slipped the device into his pocket.

Vyn sauntered into the center of the living room, hands in the pockets of his white coat; his gaze swept over the surroundings, looking for any clues that could point towards Artem’s sudden disappearance.

If he were honest with himself, the senior attorney’s disappearance was nothing he had expected, even as he ran the worst case scenarios resulting from their investigations. The possibility was always there of course, but it bore the prerequisite of their team’s cover being blown—something that Vyn was positive had not happened…yet.

Still, it was undeniable that their exploits brought them a bit too close to danger for his comfort. Wing’s disappearance was a stark reminder. It certainly wouldn’t be a stretch that with her boss missing, Rosa was at even more risk. The mere thought of Rosa getting hurt—

Vyn bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper, stopping himself from wallowing in hypotheticals that were not supported by anything, not even by circumstantial evidence. He couldn’t afford to be distracted; they needed to get a solid lead before Darius Morgan and the rest of the police force could notice Wing’s absence, putting the entire NXX project at risk by bringing the police at their doorstep.

He already observed one detail that seemed off: a pile of clothes draped over the living room sofa.

To Vyn’s eyes it seemed like a blight on the otherwise impeccably-maintained living space. Especially the way the clothes were haphazardly arranged; it was like whoever was wearing the full set of clothing up and disappeared into thin air, leaving the clothes intact like a discarded insect’s exoskeleton.

A small slip of paper…

Vyn bent over and picked the crumpled slip off the foot of the sofa, but Rosa called their attention before he had a chance to inspect it.

“Hang on…” Rosa was about to climb the stairs to the upper floor, but something caught her notice, and she put a finger across her lips before whispering, “Did you guys hear that?”

Luke stealthily moved ahead of her towards the kitchen, his footsteps not making any sound. “Yeah. That’s strange.”

“What is?” Vyn joined them, his normally distinct footfalls now noticeably silent. A far-off sound of mewling could be heard. “Ah. I did not know Wing kept a pet.”

“Is that…meowing?” Marius, having no talent in sneaking, followed them with his sneaker-clad feet making squeaky sounds on the polished stone flooring.

Whatever faint sound they picked up had ceased.

“Oh for god’s sake,” Luke let out a short string of choice curses. “Can’t you see we’re trying to be quiet here? You just spooked whatever lead we got!”

“Lead? We had a lead?” Marius raised an eyebrow. “Do we even need leads if you guys are looking for a cat?”

“We’re not here to look for a cat, dumbass, but we’re—”

Marius pointed at something near the ceiling directly over the kitchen. “That cat?”

“What do you mean—oh.”

There was a cat alright. Its appearance was rather hard to make out, as it blended into the shadows quite well. But before anyone could have a good look at the furry creature, it slunk into the darkness above the overhead cupboards, hiding away from the intruders.

Rosa noticed yet another thing, and scrunched her nose. “Hmm. Smells like the litter box hasn’t been cleaned for a while.”

“Wing had been missing for three days. If that meant the cat was left unattended for three whole days, or more…” Vyn approached the fridge, and rummaged through its contents until he found something that suited his purpose: a half-consumed can of tuna. “It must surely be hungry. Marius,” Vyn beckoned to the youngest in the group.

Marius scowled. He never liked it when Vyn used that tone on him. Not even his older brother bossed him around like Vyn did, as if they were forever stuck in the role of tutor and student regardless of the situation. “What.”

“Meow.”

“What the fuck?”

“Just meow. Get its attention,” the doctor threw Marius a withering look. “Surely you could do as much?”

Marius was more inclined to roll up his sleeves and beat the shit out of his tutor right then and there than do animal sounds, and was about to do so, when Luke rolled his eyes and took it upon himself to call out, “Meow, little kitty, kitty…”

Rosa quickly took the opened can of tuna off Vyn’s hands. “Kitty~ We have food!”

After a minute or so the cat finally saw it fit to peek out from where it was hiding above the cupboards; a wary blue gaze looking down at the four-person group, as if trying to discern their trustworthiness.

Yet its hunger won out; as soon as it picked up the scent of food, the cat jumped down onto the kitchen countertop. It meowed quite loudly at Rosa, trying to paw at the open can of tuna that sat on her palms.

“Poor thing. He must be really hungry,” Rosa noted as she closely watched the feline devour the tuna, loud smacking sounds interspersed with an incessant, low-pitched growl.

The cat appeared to be of Persian stock: it had a thick coat of black fur that seemed to absorb light, making it appear like a blob of shadow. When the cat briefly looked up towards Rosa in between gulps, she saw what could be the most brilliant blue eyes she had ever seen on a four-legged creature.

Cerulean, similar to Mr. Wing’s eyes…

Rosa shook her head. Focus! They were there to look for her boss, not missing cats.

“It is odd. The cat seems to be perfectly healthy, but I would assume that the smell of excreta…” Vyn’s lips slightly curled in distaste, “...indicates there is no provision for the cat to properly dispose of its own waste. I find it highly uncharacteristic of Wing.”

“So we have an out of place cat,” Marius crossed his arms. “What’s that got to do with Artem going missing?”

“Holy shit.”

While the others had their focus diverted towards the unexpected cat, Luke took it upon himself to set up his laptop by the dining table and tap into the CCTV footage through the building’s security network.

Something really odd had been captured by the security camera pointed towards the general living area of Artem’s apartment, and Luke had to rewind and loop those few seconds of something inexplicable that took place in the living room. “Er. You guys may want to see this.”

The group spent several minutes looping the same 10-second segment of the security camera footage over and over, and over; an unnatural silence fell upon them, not knowing how to even react at what they had been watching.

Until Rosa piped up. “Um. So this means…Mr. Wing is the cat…?”

“Jesus.” Luke rubbed his eyes, then squinted once again directly at the screen. There it was, that split second moment where Artem, holding something up in the air, disappeared and instantaneously replaced by the very same Persian cat in the kitchen; the same cat licking the insides of the now empty tuna can. “I—I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry.” The detective sounded like he was on the verge of breaking down.

The past two days had been rough on Luke. Not only did he have to take on the lion’s share of the task of tracking Artem down, he also had to endure two full days of bickering between the young spoiled brat and the older pretentious bastard. “All I can say is that the video is clean, so—yeah. Yeah. I’m out.”

Vyn and Marius could only look on as the detective left the premises.

“I don’t blame him at all, really.” Marius scratched his head. “This is totally fucking bonkers. I’d rather bitch at you for disappearing Artem.” A sigh. “It would be way easier if that happened instead.”

“I am sure there is a logical explanation.” Vyn took a deep breath to compose himself, ignoring Marius’s jab. “But I have a feeling it can only come after a good night’s sleep. A good, long, I-want-to-take-a-sabbatical sleep.”

The student snorted, but refrained from making his usual snide remark about the doctor’s penchant for opting to take a healthy amount of bed rest every time the chance presented itself.

Yet Vyn was far from being relieved. Things were not adding up, and they certainly could not afford to waste resources over a prank; especially one where all variables were unknown: who did it, how they did it and most especially, why?

While this has taken quite a turn, I am not sure if I prefer this outcome, or if I would rather deal with something that we could solve with logic, like a missing person case.

Or even a murder.

Rosa joined them in the living room, the fuzzy black cat in her arms. “I’ll be taking care of…um. Mr. Wing, then,” she said haltingly, as if she was still getting used to addressing a small feline as her boss. “I’ll take a trip to the pet shop and get supplies.”

“I will give you temporary access to our account.” Vyn took out his phone, and after a few taps he slipped it back into the pocket of his doctor’s coat. “Make sure to get everything you think a cat may need. No need to worry about accidentally buying extras; an excess of supply will always be better than lacking them.”

“Got it, Dr. Richter.” Rosa gently scratched the black cat’s chin. “Mr. Wing won’t go hungry under my watch!”

Vyn smiled at Rosa’s enthusiasm. Even if the enthusiasm was mostly aimed towards taking care of someone else, rather than him. As long as she smiled, he was content.

Maybe.

Yet while it was unlikely that the cat would go hungry in Rosa’s care, things unfortunately did not go as planned for the poor creature.

===

The next morning.

Yawning, Rosa found herself woken up by the ringing of her phone.

Huh. I thought I already phoned in sick.

Due to dire circumstances she had planned to skip work for the day, while the other three tried to make heads or tails of whatever happened to her boss. Vyn had even written up a medical certificate for her to bolster her excuse with, so she could be excused from work for a day or two and focus on taking care of her four-legged boss.

She yawned at the person at the other end of the line. “…Ms. Taylor?”

Rosa gradually awakened from the stupor of sleep the longer she listened to Celestine’s urgent words; by the time she cut the call she was on the verge of panicking.

Oh no…we were scheduled to do the presentation for the new client today—I totally forgot!

She had the option to decline, of course, as she was supposed to be on sick leave. Yet she knew that Artem had poured blood, sweat, and tears to secure this particular chance; letting it fall through her fingers would be nothing short of unthinkable…

And so Rosa came up with the only solution she could think of.

===

“No.”

…was the only word Vyn wanted to say when the pet carrier full of meowing cat was laid on his doorstep, along with boxes of pet supplies.

However, it was Rosa—his beloved Rose, still ever so ignorant of the affection he held for her—who foisted the cat into his care, and so the words that actually escaped his lips were, “Yes, of course.”

“Thank you, Dr. Richter!” Rosa happily took both of his hands and shook them firmly. Vyn thought it sad that she would never know how much that innocent gesture would affect him for as long as he remembered it. “You’re a lifesaver. Mr. Wing had put so much work into securing a long-term contract with them—I can’t bear the thought of letting it go to waste, just like that.”

Yet Vyn smiled gently at her, still. It was so much like her to think about the welfare of other people—Wing included, of course, and he had to live with the knowledge that he probably wouldn’t possess that special place in Rosa’s heart; that he wouldn’t have all of her to his greedy, greedy self.

Still, it was a great honor that it was him whom she first thought of, to ask for help. “Think nothing of it. But,” he held up a finger. “You will be making a deal with the devil, Rosa. Are you sure you are ready to pay the price?”

“Eh?” Rosa’s smile froze. “...Price?”

She knew Dr. Richter’s time was too valuable to be wasted on a cat, but such a remark coming from her usually accommodating close friend was something she never expected to hear from him. Not that she intended to abuse his good graces, yet…

Vyn let a several seconds pass without a single word from him, letting Rosa stew in anxiety anticipation. There was nothing on his face but an expression of something that Rosa could not easily pinpoint—and before she could ask him if there was anything wrong, if putting Artem-cat under his care was too much of an imposition—his face broke into a bright smile as he said, “A dinner date would suffice. How about it?”

The sigh of relief that came from Rosa was all too audible.

“Of course. You know how much I love spending time with you, Dr. Richter.” She laughed sheepishly. “Really. I can owe you like a week’s worth of dinner dates, but um. As long as I could afford it, I guess? Haha.”

“I am only asking for your presence, Rosa. Let me foot the bill.” Vyn bent over to reach for the handle of Artem-cat’s pet carrier, lifting the container with the grille door facing him so he could peek inside and take a good look at the black Persian cat. “Well, hello.” His smile grew taut. “For Rosa’s sake, I will be your caretaker for the day, little Wing.”

I will gladly do this, if it means having Rosa exclusively all to myself for the next few evenings.

“Mrr.”

A black paw slipped through the grilles, extending towards his face. He was about to flinch, but realized that the cat was pawing at his cheek with claws retracted, as if trying to touch him out of curiosity.

“I think Mr. Wing likes you!” Rosa exclaimed in delight, her eyes brimming with mirth as she watched the cat tentatively pat Vyn’s rather surprised face. “He probably wants to play?”

Vyn had to smile despite himself. “Never in a million years would I have thought of hearing those words.” He caught the little paw with his fingers, carefully peeling it away from his cheek. “Well then, hurry along to work, Rosa. Leave little Wing to me.”

The doctor helped Rosa book a cab, and after a few minutes she was gone, almost as sudden and as fleeting as an April shower.

Like a fever dream, or a flight of fancy.

“Mrowr?”

Vyn realized that he was still standing by his doorstep, wearing his silk sleeping robe, and that he was due to be in the office a couple of hours from now. He did not have time to run out and buy pet supplies, only to drive back home and set everything up so he could leave Artem-cat in the living room.

If he wanted to keep an eye on the cat, he would need to bring it along to his office.

But how can I work him out into my own schedule, and in such short notice?

He had to think of something, quickly.

Vivid sky blue eyes on black fur stared at him through the metal grilles. An idea suddenly occurred to him, but he needed to see if the creature would be cooperative…

Ah. But first, let us test how suitable he is…

Vyn unlatched the grille door, letting the cat slip out of the carrier to climb his arm and settle on his shoulder. It remained there, the bared crook of his neck its new comfortable perch, even as the doctor briefly bent on one knee to put the pet carrier down by his slipper-clad feet.

The cat purred quietly, decidedly much calmer than how it was when they found it in Artem’s apartment. “Mrrow.” It nuzzled his silver hair, its nose tickling the side of his head. “Meow.”

“Are you really Wing?” There was a tinge of mild, astonished amusement in his voice.

Without much prompting, Artem-cat nimbly jumped into his arms. The quiet purring went on; it was a low, persistent sound akin to a running motor engine, and coupled with the mild vibrations it felt quite pleasant. “I could hardly believe it. Bite my arm if you can understand my words.”

“Meow.” Instead of biting, it planted its forepaws onto Vyn’s neck and licked his chin.

“I suppose not.” Vyn found himself smiling. He liked cats; he certainly would not take it against this cat for something it had no control over—such as association with the person who held nothing for him but contempt, for instance.

His temperament is gentle; he would be perfect around children… He weighed the one option that came to his mind, as the fingers of his free hand scratched the purring machine’s chin.

Yes, Vyn decided he could work something out.

Having made up his mind, he took out his smartphone from the pocket of his silk robe.

He absolutely abhorred having to upset impeccably-prepared schedules on the fly, but if it meant seeing Rosa smile, doing so was only but a drop of water in the sea of his responsibilities.

“It is me. When does the earliest appointment start? Yes, I meant for today.” A pause. “Ah. Not too early. I need your help for a certain experimental therapy I had in mind…”

===

A polite knock resounded through the door to Dr. Vyn Richter’s office. “Come in, the door is unlocked.”

His assistant peeked in. “I’ve called each patient scheduled for consultation today. Everyone confirmed they aren’t allergic to cats. Some were even delighted at the idea.”

“Thank you. That is good news indeed.” Vyn expected as much; most of his patients booked for consultation for the day were children. The only potential snag was if any of them were allergic to animal dander, and that concern was thankfully cleared out. “I sent you an image just now, please have it printed and put it up somewhere in the waiting area.” He glanced at his wristwatch. It was almost time for the patients to start trickling into the waiting area.

“Sure, doc. Leave it to me.”

The assistant closed the door behind him.

“Well Wing,” Vyn turned towards the black cat curled up on his executive desk. “You will be earning your keep today.”

Its tail flicked lazily in response. “Meow.”

“Would you like a sausage?” Vyn reached towards his breakfast tray and picked out a convenience store weiner wrapped in plastic; he tore open the packaging and offered one end of the sausage to Artem-cat. “Hardly healthy, I know. I will make it up to you later.”

Artem-cat sniffed at it, wary at first, then took its first bite.

Eventually it nibbled the sausage with gusto; and loud smacking sounds filled the sacred silence of Vyn’s office.

The psychiatrist found himself watching the cat eat with rapt attention. It was all too easy forgetting the feline’s alleged identity; instead he played out one pleasant, yet poignant memory that he held during his time as a student.

When he was still a child, young Vilhelm was surprised to learn that a cat he rescued from campus grounds actually belonged to a colony of cats that lived not too far from his dormitory.

He was made to believe that ‘his’ cat was a lonely soul, just like he was; and through this perceived similarity he felt a kinship with the little creature.

Until one day, when the cat came to their usual meeting place with several other cats in tow.

It was then he came to the realization that cats were merely mistaken to be solitary creatures, that even they craved companionship when they felt like it. He started seeing more cats interacting with their own ilk as soon as he started actively looking for these cat colonies.

Watching the cats play with each other made him realize that while he was used to being alone, he too secretly yearned to belong somewhere.

Yet Vilhelm wasn't being honest with himself; it was too easy to twist that yearning into a feeling of indignation—how dare they look down on him—and as he grew older, more cynical, he had forgotten that little yearning; the indignation eventually grew into a quiet, yet smoldering resentment that sustained his very being. Well hidden and out of view, but the faint embers were there, waiting to be consumed into a larger flame.

“Mrrrrow?” Artem-cat had already finished its sausage; the meowing had brought him back from his reverie. “Meow.”

“Ah, I apologize for zoning out like that.” Vyn noticed that he was becoming more comfortable talking to the cat as he would with his plants, on occasion. The idea that the cat was formerly Wing—Vyn tried very hard to ignore the dubiousness of the entire matter—certainly did not help. While he was wont to return the lawyer’s contemptuousness towards him with interest, Vyn was nonetheless very keen on learning what would happen if the cat somehow turned back into his former, human, self. Would they remember their life as a cat, for instance?

He threw a quick glance at the clock on his desktop. Ten-fifty. It was about time for his office to start letting in patients.

He fished out a few sheets of tissue paper from the caddy sitting at the corner of his desk, and wiped the sausage grease off the mahogany surface. “Are you ready to earn your keep, little Wing?”

“Meeeow.”

He was about to call for his assistant, when someone very unwelcome burst through his door. “Oi, Vyn!” Marius bounded into his office, making himself comfortable on the chaise longue. “Hi Artem! Getting cozy with your rival?”

“Nyaa.” Sky blue eyes blinked at Marius.

“What the hell are you doing here, brat?” Vyn hissed. “I have patients due to arrive in a few minutes.”

“Ehhhhh, that’s no way to treat someone who helped you on short notice.” Marius put on an exaggerated pout. “It wasn’t easy putting together a colored scribble of you holding a cat, let alone being given only five minutes to do it!”

“You seemed to have the talent to do nothing but draw doodles by the margins of the rare books I lent you, the least you could do is to put it to good use.” Vyn scowled. “Or am I mistaken?”

“Ugh Vyn, stop being such a goddamn arse for once. I helped, okay?” Marius returned Vyn’s frown with his own. “At least I didn’t draw you as a silly looking owl—”

Someone knocked on the door. It was Vyn’s assistant. “Miss Lydie—oh, apologies, I did not notice you had a guest. Shall I…?”

“No, I believe it is time for Mr. von Hagen to leave.” Vyn straightened the lapels of his white coat, then addressed his assistant. “After you show him out, please let Lydie in. Is the mother with her this time?”

Marius let out an exasperated sigh. “Man, I only wanted to hang around and see what you’re up to, especially since it’s urgent enough to ask me for help—”

“Oh um,” the assistant blinked, his sights flitting between Dr. Richter and his student. He was all too acutely aware that he had stepped into a very awkward moment. “Yes. Madam Roswell is with Lydie.”

“Good.” Vyn crossed his arms as he turned to Marius, looking pointedly at his student. “Well?”

“A one-day trial on pet therapy hardly qualifies as entertainment, Marius, despite my request that you make the drawing for the signage a bit endearing.” Vyn looked ready to manhandle his student and throw him out the window. “And I do not want to violate patient confidentiality just because you are bored. Leave.”

It wasn’t a battle that he could win; Marius understood as much. “Fine, fine,” he muttered as he peeled himself off the chaise longue, but instead of going straight for the door he made a detour towards Vyn’s desk, where Artem-cat silently watched them bicker. “Hey, tell me if this bastard kicks you, yeah?” He stroked the sleek, silken black fur without hesitation; the affectionate gesture was readily rewarded with Artem-cat bunting its head against his palm.

“Ohoh, he finally likes me. Well I’d like you too, buddy, but only if you’d quit harassing me and my brother over Neil’s—”

“Marius.” By now Vyn’s golden eyes have lost their usual sparkle, and his face was devoid of any expression, cryptic or otherwise. “I highly doubt the cat is capable of holding a conversation. Their current brain structure simply cannot accommodate that function,” he said, voice clipped.

His student didn’t quite catch how deep in hot water he already was at that moment. “Awwww.” He scratched Artem-cat’s chin. “Who is that dumb kitty witty. Yes is youuuuuuu.”

Vyn’s assistant, ever quick on the uptake, put a hand on Marius’s shoulder then discreetly but firmly steered him towards the door. “Mr. von Hagen, thank you so much for…”

After the door closed behind them, Vyn finally let out a long, pained, sigh. Finally.

Yet the peace was short-lived, for the door opened once again; this time a withdrawn young girl shyly peeked from behind the heavy frosted glass door. She seemed intent on rooting herself to that spot, until she was roughly pushed into the office.

“Lydie, we talked about this,” said the impeccably-dressed woman easily in her late thirties, with make-up obviously worn for the express purpose of hiding that fact. “Don’t embarrass me in front of—”

Vyn set out to nip the girl’s distress right in the bud. He skirted around the mother, acting as if she was not in the room, and approached Lydie without acknowledging her presence.

He knew it was discourteous, but he preferred not risking letting his mask slip around the blameless girl. If the woman was petty enough to make an issue out of it, he could deal with it later.

“Hello, little Lydie.” He bent down on one knee, letting the girl tower over him by a couple of inches. It was but a small gesture, yet he knew that it would help Lydie immensely by putting her in an equal or even a slightly dominant position as he engaged her.

A soft smile. “You have been chosen to be the very first patient to meet a new friend. Would you like to see him now?” His voice was sweet and gentle; while the effect was not immediately apparent it was clear to see that Lydie wasn’t as guarded as she was seconds ago.

The girl gave a small nod, her pigtails swinging behind her head. Vyn’s ever-observant eyes picked up on her enthusiasm; but it was heavily muted until it was almost imperceptible. No doubt heavily influenced by her overbearing mother.

Still smiling, he stood up and retrieved Artem-cat from his desk…

===

Unbeknownst to Vyn, Marius had been peeking into the office through the small crack. Luckily for him the vain mother seemed too preoccupied with appearances to even bother with basic courtesies, such as closing the door properly behind her.

The sliver of an opening afforded Marius only a very limited view, but nonetheless the small wedge of visible area covered the corner with the chaise longue, and that was the only view he needed.

Marius glanced at the door leading to the adjacent waiting area. Vyn’s assistant was busy taking inquiries from waiting patients; most of the questions were about the experimental integration of pet therapy. Looks like his hands are gonna be full for today to even notice me....

He then resumed peeking into Vyn’s office through the crack in the doorway.

Oh goodie.

Artem-cat calmly clung to Vyn’s arms as the psychiatrist introduced it to Lydie. “His name is…ah...”

Marius couldn’t help but grin. Is he seriously going to call the cat ‘Artem’?

“...Aile. His name is Aile.” He then beckoned Lydie to take her seat on the chaise longue, and carefully placed the purring cat on her lap. “Aile, do be friendly with your new friend.”

The student groaned inwardly. Of course he’s going to give the poor cat a frou frou French name. What did I even expect?

Lydie let out a soft coo of delight as her short fingers ran through the thick black fur. “Aile,” she whispered. “Kitty…”

Vyn smiled as he picked up his tablet from the nearby coffee table and took his seat across Lydie, his legs crossed. “How was your week?”

Deciding that he had intruded enough, Marius quietly closed the door, then made his way towards the waiting area. He gave Vyn’s overwhelmed assistant—still accosted with so many questions and inquiries from those interested in the pet therapy trial—a wave as he walked past.

He briefly entertained the idle thought of how things could have turned out if he knew Vyn before he became a naturalized citizen; during better circumstances way before things went south and his older brother went missing.

Maybe we could have been…friends?

Eh, whatever.

He promptly binned that train of thought.

Then it caught his eye. A few kids and a couple of young mothers with their toddlers in tow crowded around it: a sizable poster featuring his quick doodle, taped to a prominent spot on the wall.

The poster bore a chibi-style rendition of Dr. Vyn Richter in his trademark white doctor’s coat, smiling brightly as he held up a black cat drawn in a similar style. The words Meet a new friend today! were printed in block letters above the print out of Marius’s colored drawing. There were some more lines of text below the image, no doubt disclaimers meant for the adults or guardians accompanying the minor patients.

It was obvious how well-received Vyn’s stunt turned out to be, and the man was already popular in the first place.

Grinning and in high spirits, Marius almost skipped all the way out of Vyn’s research facility. The fact that his tutor owed him a big favor was undeniable; he spent the rest of the day mostly trying to come up with what favor to ask, as payment.

===

“Thank you very much, Dr. Richter. You’ve been a great help. Really.”

“My pleasure.”

The door closed behind the woman; his professional responsibilities for the day also left him the moment the glass door locked closed with an audible click.

Vyn briefly glanced at his wristwatch.

Right on schedule.

An orange-golden sunset light poured into his office through the gaps between the drawn venetian blinds. It was already six in the evening.

Finally time to go home. And with luck, Rosa may come and stay for dinner when she drops by to pick him up…

He pushed himself out of his psychiatrist’s chair and stretched his arms upward, feeling his bones crack as he did so.

As expected, most of the children were very receptive to the pet therapy trial. Overall the turnout was very encouraging; even the two adult patients took well to Artem-cat and one of them, a woman suffering from PTSD, had expressed her interest in adopting a shelter cat.

“Good job, little Wing.” Vyn picked up the purring Artem-cat off the carpeted floor, gazing directly into its cerulean eyes as he held out the cat in front of him. “As much as I loathe your human self, I have to admit I have taken a liking to you. If you would stay in this form, I would gladly adopt you and have the both of us certified for pet therapy.”

“Myaaaa.”

“Oh, so you do like that idea.”

“Myan.”

“And Rosa would undoubtedly like me even more, for having attained yet another quality that she would find quite…charming.”

“Mrrr.”

“I guess you still have misgivings toward the idea. But take heart,” Vyn said as his lips curved into a lazy, cat-like grin. “Rosa will dote on you more as a four-legged, lovable beast.”

“Mrrrrr.” Artem-cat now squirmed in his grasp, and at this point it was hard for Vyn to discern if the cat was purring loudly, or was doing a low-pitched growl. “Mrrrowr.”

“Ah-ah, behave,” Vyn tut-tutted, barely able to hold back his ever-so-slightly devious grin as he adjusted his hold on Artem-cat. He held it close to his chest with his left arm, his other hand delicately stroking its black fur. “If you hold any grievances about your current situation, direct them to the culprit. I am merely your caretaker.”

“Meow.” Artem-cat sounded glum as it started to groom Vyn, by licking the sleeve of his white coat.

“I suppose it is time for this coat to be sent to the cleaners—oh.”

He was immediately reminded of the slip of paper he picked up from the floor, back in Artem’s apartment.

His free hand dug into the right pocket.

It should still be here…

After a few seconds he managed to fish out the now-crumpled slip. With deft fingers he single handedly smoothed out the paper; he almost snorted when he read the dates and noted the lack of Claimed stamp.

“Incredible. Even the meticulous, neat senior attorney could forget picking up his suit.”

===

Dinner was bubbling along nicely in Vyn’s kitchen when he decided to check up on his sole dinner guest.

Unfortunately Rosa had to turn down his dinner invitation for tonight; despite his best efforts she could not be dissuaded from taking that very, very rare chance to prove herself to her boss that yes, he could count on her to pick up the slack should anything happen to him.

For instance, him turning into a cat.

And so for tonight, his special guest for dinner is the four-legged creature foisted into his care.

While Vyn did pick up a few packets of premium wet cat food for him, he decided that Artem-cat did deserve a nice treat for doing a great job for a cat not even specifically trained to be a therapy animal.

His reward for a job well done was a trout dinner with a bit of rice, finely chopped broccoli, and made slightly sweet with a little homemade applesauce. It extended dinner preparation time for almost an hour, but Vyn did not mind it at all; however, he would indeed mind if the cat did not like his first attempt at cooking cat food.

He called for the cat to come taste the meal he had painstakingly prepared for him. “Wing, where are you?” Vyn padded towards the living space of his home, then the foyer. He even thought of rattling the package sitting on the sofa; it contained the lawyer’s forgotten suit that he picked up from the cleaners. He thought the cat could have hidden itself inside behind the bag, or maybe just curled up beside it to sleep for no other reason than familiarity…but the cat was also not to be found in or around the paper bag.

“Wing?” He traced his way back towards the kitchen, but there was no discernible sign of cat; at least, not on the first floor of his house.

Suddenly a low thunder crashed from the skies; it was strong enough that the glass panes vibrated in their frames.

A freak thunderstorm?

He was about to check the weather, when he heard a faint distressed cry from somewhere. Not from within the house; the sound was barely audible, as if it came from outside.

Then Vyn realized that he may not have closed the back door when he hauled groceries into the pantry earlier.

Damn it. I was too careless. It took only a glance behind the kitchen that the backdoor was indeed slightly ajar.

Vyn sprinted through the door and out into the barely-lit garden. “Wing?”

Another loud peal of thunder reverberated through the skies; and once again a mewl of distress could be heard, except this time he could finally pinpoint where it came from. He hurried towards one of the rose bushes half-hidden behind the fire tree.

Artem-cat’s cries of pain grew louder as he approached. Vyn carefully parted the rose bushes with his bare hands, not minding the thorns that pricked his skin.

“Shit.” Vyn could not help but curse as he found the cat trapped in the thorny rose bush; despite the thick black fur Vyn’s trained eye could easily pick out that the cat suffered several puncture wounds that bled and made worse when it tried to extricate itself from the thorny branches.

After quickly assessing how to take the cat out of its thorny predicament he decided that it was too risky to try and untangle it by hand; Vyn would need to use pruning shears to safely remove the cat from the rose bush.

“Stay put, I need to retrieve my shears from the garden shed.”

Artem-cat resumed its loud, pained wailing the moment he disappeared out of its sight, thinking that it had been abandoned to suffer alone. Vyn winced at the sound; it certainly brought back certain memories. “Just stay put, I will be there soon!”

Why am I even talking to a cat like a complete dolt?

Shaking his head at the incredulousness of it all, Vyn all but kicked open the rickety door of his garden shed and felt around the shelf for his shears, not even pausing to turn on the lights.

Artem-cat was still crying, its sounds now escalated into a full-on caterwauling.

Despite his wealth of experience of treating patients in physical trauma, Vyn still felt an acute sense of pain empathy, and almost flinched.

Wasting no time, he immediately set out to work as soon as he got back. “Ssh. I am here,” he whispered; the sounds of his shears snipping off the thorny stems the most comforting sound the cat had ever heard. “I got you.”

After a few minutes the cat was finally freed from the thorny bush; it trembled in Vyn’s arms as he carried it back into the house without delay.

The bright illumination in Vyn’s house shed light on the extent of its injuries: the black fur obscured the wounds, but the bleeding all over Vyn’s cardigan made the seriousness of its injuries undeniable. Depending on how deep the puncture wounds were, Vyn may need to bring Artem-cat to the veterinarian…

Yet he could clean and dress its wounds first, at the very least.

With the cat still secure in his arm, Vyn made a beeline to the bathroom, retrieving his first aid kit along the way.

“This may be a little painful, Wing, but I need to give you a bath first before dressing your wounds.” Vyn carefully placed the still-trembling cat into the bathroom sink; and turned on the tap with the temperature set to warm.

Under the cascading water Vyn examined the cat’s wounds by meticulously parting its fur, checking for wounds that he may have missed. He counted almost ten lacerations in total. “Damn it. This reminds me of when you charged into that drug den like an utter idiot,” he murmured as he squeezed a bit of shampoo onto his palm, lathering it into foam. “I was ready to burn you at the stake for bringing Rosa along with you in your idiotic escapade, but we both know how Rosa is.” Vyn let out a sigh as he started to gently rub the blood out of the black fur. “...so I did not. But tell me, Wing, do you have anyone to get your back when you dig yourself into a hole you cannot crawl out of?”

The answer to that question never came. Not that night, at least. For suddenly Vyn found himself holding a very human Artem Wing by the waist; the lawyer seated quite uncomfortably in the sink full of running water.

The doctor merely stared at him, frozen; Artem stared back at him, similarly immobile.

They stayed stock-still in close proximity to each other; the stare-off was only broken when Vyn finally remembered he could blink his eyes.

After he did so he wordlessly opened the first aid kit and took out a bottle of alcohol.

Vyn eventually found his voice. “Your wounds are still open,” he mumbled as his fingers fumbled with the twist cap; his usually deft fingers now felt heavy as lead and even dropped the bottle onto the floor, once. “Need to clean and dress your wounds.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Artem also finally managed to find his tongue. “I—”

“Nonsense,” Vyn snapped. “Sit there and let me dress your wounds in peace. Do not get in my way.” He sounded as if he did not have a very naked male colleague in front of him, with his ass stuck in the bathroom sink; the warm water flowing from the tap had already overflowed and poured directly onto his feet, slowly flooding the bathroom floor.

“I—ah, goddamn it. Alright.” Artem’s head was still quite fuzzy; his mental faculties had yet to fully return. But even in that state he could see how wrong this compromised position was, and he could not help his skin turning a deeper shade of red by the minute.

Vyn noticed this. “Wing, for the sake of everything we stand for, please do not make this any more awkward than it already is. Please.” He took out a pair of medical scissors, a roll of gauze, and medical tape.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes and I think that is precisely what is making this worse.” Vyn bit his lip hard as soon as he realized his words could be easily misconstrued.

True enough, Artem’s face from the neck up deepened into a darker red. “Damn it,” Vyn’s voice came out strangled as he worked on dressing his colleague’s injuries,

And still, both of them were too distressed enough to notice the water overflowing from the sink.

Eventually Vyn managed to dress all of Artem’s wounds. “It is done,” was all he could say. “I…picked up your suit. It is in a paper bag. You can find it in the living room.”

“Thank you.” Artem then tried to lift himself out of the sink. “Uh. Richter.”

“Yes.” Vyn was still standing in front of him, the expression on his face quite shell-shocked. “What is it.”

“I think I’m stuck.” He tried to move his waist to try and remove himself from the sink, to no avail. “I need uh…a hand…”

“Here,” Vyn held out an arm to the lawyer. “Hold on.”

Artem groaned as Vyn helped pull himself out of the sink. “Goddamn it, you could have been more careful. That hurt.”

If Marius or Luke could have witnessed this very moment, they may have gained a treasure trove of innuendo-filled jokes, enough to probably make Vyn kick them out of the NXX Project with nary a thought.

“If you need any more clothing, just go upstairs, turn left to my bedroom,” Vyn mumbled. “The cabinet is full of clean clothes.”

“Thank you.”

Artem hurriedly left the bathroom, leaving Vyn to his own devices as he sought to regain his dignity.

A few minutes later, wearing his own freshly laundered suit—along with a white button up shirt taken from the closet and a pair of Vyn’s underwear that was just a little too tight at the bottom—Artem returned to the bathroom to thank Vyn for all the trouble the doctor had put himself through for his sake.

…Only to see him aimlessly swish a mop about in a vain attempt to clear the bathroom floor of water.

He does not know how to use a mop, was the lawyer’s immediate thought.

The mop head only moved the water to other spots; and Vyn even neglected to wring the water out. Artem cringed the entire time he watched the usually respectable NXX Investigations Team’s most senior member demonstrate his misunderstanding of water displacement physics.

After a few minutes watching the sad display Artem could not take it anymore; he then grabbed the mop off Vyn’s hands. “I’ll take over from here. It’s the least I could do.”

===

Next Monday, NXX Headquarters.

A heavy atmosphere so thick pervaded the conference room. Vyn kept to himself in his usual spot by the head of the conference table, oddly quiet all throughout even during the meeting.

Artem also stayed in his preferred spot, busy—or pretending to be busy—updating himself with what transpired during his absence.

“Um. Mr. Wing?” Rosa broke the silence. “Um…glad to see you’re back.”

Artem blinked, then looked at Rosa. “Thank you. You did great work when I was…away.”

“Thanks!” Rosa smiled gleefully. “I’d like to hear about your adventures as a cat, if you don’t mind…”

Marius took her words as his cue. “Oh, didn’t you know, Missy? Artem worked as Vyn’s masco—”

“Mass hysteria,” Vyn suddenly said, his words coming off non-sequitur. “Nothing of the sort happened.”

“I have proof here—”

“MASS HYSTERIA,” Vyn repeated, a bit loudly this time. “A mass psychogenic illness making us fall for an illusion of our brain’s own making. Stress—”

“But I have proof right here!” Marius took out his smartphone.”I drew—”

This time, it was Artem who spoke up. “It’s mass hysteria, and if you don’t stop, Marius, I will throw this laptop at you and sue you for mental distress.

That moment went down as one of the very few instances when Vyn and Artem agreed and joined forces against a common enemy.

#tears of themis #tears of themis fanfic #artem wing #vyn richter #mo yi #zuo ran

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prettytoxicrevolver · 3 years ago

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Finally | Corpse Husband

Requested? For once, yes! LMAO I hope you like it :)

Warnings? Nah

Summary: You and Corpse after being best friend's for years now finally break the distance

Word Count: 1,388

“Come on pick up pick up,” you whisper as you watch your phone ring over and over.

“Hello?” your best friend picks up and you grin widely.

“Corpse!!!” you yell and he flinches but smiles anyway.

“Guess where I am,” you continue.

“I don’t fucking know uh,”

“I’m at the car wash!!” you yell and turn your camera to show him you’re midway through the tunnel that washes your car.

“Okay?” he questions still uncertain as to why you insisted on calling him and telling him you were at the car wash.

“Remember I told you about the last time I was here,” you start, and realization washes over the older boy’s face.

“Oh my fucking god,” he groans and you laugh loudly. “You didn’t know how to put your car in neutral.”

“I figured it out this time!” you cheer loudly.

“I’m proud of you,” he says and you smile.

You realize you’re getting to the end of the tunnel and hold up one finger to Corpse, dropping your phone in the cup holder next to you. You put your car back into drive, cheering as you do so, and pull out of the cave-like building. You grab your phone as you start to exit, propping it up so you can see Corpse once more.

“And you even know how to put it in drive. My best friend is a fucking genius,” he says and you laugh.

“Shut the fuck up,” you joke.

As you drive, you tell Corpse about your day, happy to be seeing and talking to your best friend. You felt like you hadn’t talked to Corpse in ages, but really it had probably been two days since you last facetimed, and an hour since your last text exchange.

You and Corpse had been best friends for ages now, finding each other through the beauty of loving Machine Gun Kelly. You had fallen in love with the older rapper and his music just as Corpse was starting his youtube channel. You had been following numerous fan accounts and found Corpse’s with a decent following and a slowly building YouTube channel.

He had followed you back, and after a few interactions on the timeline and later in direct messages, you two never stopped talking. He trusted you with a face reveal, staking your life on the fact that you would never betray him like that.

Over the years you had only grown closer despite the distance between the two of you. Being across the world from each other sucked but it never really stopped the two of you. You had synced sleep schedules whether it was with you falling into California time or him falling into east coast time. You had tried your best to seem like you were closer than you actually were.

You both for a while were apprehensive to meet, and in general, were a bit too busy. You knew when you met you would want to spend the better part of a week or two together, finally enjoying each other’s company. You both made a million plans whenever you were on the phone, deciding that it was going to take you ages for you to get the things done you wanted to do at either your house or corpse’s.

You lay on the floor of your living room, your class had just ended and you were going to get up and get food but ended up on the carpet, trying to reach something. As you lay there, your phone rings, and you maneuver it out of your back pocket before swiping answer on the call.

Corpse’s face pops up and you smile wide at your best friend, it takes him a second, looking at your background before tilting his head in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I was trying to grab something on the ground and couldn’t reach it so I gave up,” you explain and you both end up cackling together.

“Anyways,” he says making you giggle. “I found out another thing we have to do together when you come here.”

“Wait let me get the list up,” you say switching apps to the note on your phone of the millions of activities that you and Corpse would complete when you would visit him one day in the future.

“We have to go to LACMA,” he says and you type it in the notes before switching back to facetime and giving your best friend a confused look.

“It’s an art museum I’ve always wanted to see. We can go and take pictures and be dramatic about the art,” he explains and you grin.

“Fuck yeah I love it,” you say.

Silence washes over the two of you, both of you having the exact same thought at the same time, thousands of miles away. Why couldn’t you two just be near each other? Your eyes try not to trail to each other, knowing any words might break the other.

“Hey,” he finally says and you look up at your phone again. “Come visit me.”

“Corpse,” you say and he shakes his head, defiance in his voice.

“Visit me. I’m sick of this distance. I miss you and I wanna meet you and hug you and complete the list we’ve been working on for years. Come on,” he says and every word has you more motivated than the one before.

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly. It’s time. Come visit me.”

You and Corpse had started planning the minute you had hung up the phone that night. How long you would stay, getting your time off work, buying the plane tickets, everything. You grew more and more excited as each part of the plan was solidified.

You had only a few days left till you got to see your best friend and your nerves were now at an all-time high. You sat in your room, double-checking that you packed everything and packed it perfectly. Your phone rings, your set ringtone for Corpse playing and you dive onto your bed as you answer it.

“Please tell me you’re not checking your suitcase again,” he says and you smile.

“I’m nervous okay, don’t tell me you’re not nervous,” you respond.

“I’m terrified. What if you’re secretly a murderer that has lured me into complacency after all these years?”

“Ooh that would be a good story,” you say and you both end up laughing.

“See you tomorrow,” he says after a bit.

“I’ll be there.”

Your excitement courses through you the entire ride to the airport, during the plane ride, and skyrockets when you step foot in LAX. You were a wreck, not being able to stop moving as you grabbed your backpack and carry on and bouncing nervously in the middle of the plane, wanting to run out as soon as possible.

You text Corpse, telling him you made it off the plane and he tells you that he’s at baggage claim. It hits you like a ton of bricks, that your best friend was in the same building as you, and that you’d finally be with him after all this time. You’re practically running through the airport, finding the correct escalator, and making your way down.

As the escalator moves slowly down you look around anxiously and there you spot him. Corpse stands not too far from the escalators, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in hand and a messily written but absolutely adorable sign with your name on it. You’re beaming so hard your face hurts and as if he can feel your gaze his eyes lock with yours.

His smile reflects yours, and without thinking, you book it down the escalator. You drop your things, your brain focused on Corpse and getting to him. Corpse drops his stuff too, running to meet you and a laugh escapes you, just as you crash into each other.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, his grabbing around your waist and you both teeter back and forth in the hug. Part of you wants to pull back, look him in the face and finally see him but nothing, nothing could pull you from his touch. You press your face into his neck, your heart pounding as you breathe in the scent of his cologne, and smile wide.

“Finally,” he whispers into your hair and you giggle.

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #youtuber x reader #youtuber imagine #x reader #corpse x y/n #x y/n #corpse x reader #corpse husband fic #fic #imagine #bravebesson

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand)

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it.

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge.

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too.

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view.

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”.

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

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“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute.

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets.

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

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An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance.

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?”

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over.

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

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You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae.

looking hot, her message read.

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

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

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse social media au #corpse husband fanfic #social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fic #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #myso #make you say oh

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illicitlimerence-writes · 4 years ago

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close friends | t. holland

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader word count: 3.1k warnings: some language, some angst if u squint. otherwise it's just fluff and tom being tom. didn't proofread this. a/n: so tumblr decided to be a little bitch and deleted this t w i c e. so i had to write this t h r e e times. this came up in my head after i got like three notifications that tom posted something on his ig story, and then it turned out he deleted them. as always, english isn't my first language so i'm sorry if this gets confusing bye. also, i was listening to cardigan by taylor swift as i wrote this.

my masterlist

so we all know tom sucks at instagram. that's a surprise to literally no one. no matter how many times you tried to teach him he still doesn't get it, and it was only a matter of time before he finally posted something he shouldn't have.

it was just one of those days, you missed him like hell. he was away filming the third spiderman, and you had to stay behind because of work.

naturally, you relied on face time and texts to survive and fill the void he left behind. you loved talking to him, listening as he rambled on and on about his adventures on set. a love-struck look on your face as you tried your hardest to stay awake despite the urge to close your eyes.

eventually, sleep took over you, and you drifted off with the sound of his voice lulling you to sleep. he stopped talking abruptly when he didn't hear your soft chuckling in reply to the story he was telling.

instead, he saw your sleeping figure, long steady breaths moving your chest up and down. and he cursed himself for making you stay up so late for him. he took one last look at you, taking a screenshot of your sleeping form.

he quickly hung up the video call and opened instagram instead, uploading the screenshot to his story,

'missing my favorite girl, thank you so much for everything you do for me. x @yourusername'

the next morning you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing. at first, thought someone had died as one notification after another filled your screen. most of them came from instagram, so you opened that app first.

thousands upon thousands of mentions, tags and new followers. you frowned, and suddenly a text from your friend popped up at the top of your screen.

'omg just saw his story. so happy for u both'

who's story? what was going on?

you refreshed your timeline, and tom's icon appeared, a colorful circle around it. an odd feeling sank in your stomach. you tapped his icon and suddenly your screen was full of... you.

a picture of you, sleeping. tom's smiling form in a small rectangle on the bottom right corner.

oh god. you read the words he wrote, over and over again. your heart pounding in your chest, and a sudden wave of fear ran through your body. but then you read his words once more, and all you could feel was love. pure, unconditional affection.

sure, your families and closest friends knew about you, but you hadn't talked about making your relationship public yet, but there was nothing you could do now.

you sighed, leaning back on your pillows. a small chuckle left your throat.

you grabbed your phone once again, quickly facetiming tom. you knew he had an early call today, and you hoped you could catch him while he was still in his hotel.

it ran once, twice, and then you saw him, hair all over the place, bare chest. hands rubbing sleep off of his face.

"mornin', darling." he said, his raspy morning voice making you smile.

"hi, baby. did i wake you?" you asked, sitting up and crossing your legs.

"yeah but it's fine, princess. i did keep you up last night so it's only fair."

"i'm sorry about falling asleep on you, that was a really nice picture you took last night," you lifted one eyebrow, and watched as he smiled at you sheepishly.

"i thought you looked really pretty, you always look pretty," he said, grabbing the water bottle on his nightstand and taking a swing.

"thanks, i hope the whole world thinks so, too," you declared. leaning your chin on your fist, watching him expectantly.

he did not react like you had expected him to.

his breath hitched as he sipped his water, and suddenly all you could see was the cream-colored ceiling, as you heard him spitting out and coughing.

"tom! oh, my god! are you okay?" you asked, getting on your knees and holding your phone up to your face, "tommy?" you repeated when he finally stopped coughing, you could now hear his heavy breaths.

at last, you saw his curls appear from the bottom of the screen.

"wh-what did you just say?" his voice was rough, his chest heaving.

"are you okay?" you asked again.

"ye-yeah i'm fine. babe, what did you mean by 'the whole world'? did something happen?" he asked, frowning. you echoed his expression, watching him for a second.

“you posted a picture to your story,” you repeated, and he nodded.

“yeah, i posted it to my close friends, i-” he stopped mid-sentence, eyes growing comically wide. “oh shit, did i-” he caught himself off as he threw the phone to one side, you heard him fumbling around for his laptop and you snorted. “shit, baby, don’t tell me i posted it… fuck!” you couldn’t keep it in any longer, you broke out laughing.

“of course this is how the world finds out about us!” you continued giggling until your stomach hurt.

“fuck, princess i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to, i swear i- why are you laughing!?”

“tommy, tommy! it’s okay, baby, don’t worry. i’m not mad,” you stopped once you noticed his pouting. “it’s fine, my love, i don’t mind. sure it’s unexpected, and a little sudden but i wouldn’t have it any other way. i knew what i was getting into when we started dating,” you told him honestly, wishing you were there to give him a hug and kiss him all over.

“darling, i’m really, really sorry. i swear i thought i tapped the green button like you told me to” he continued his sulking, nervous eyes glancing back and forth from his laptop screen to you.

“i know, baby, i know this is not your forte, and i really appreciate the sweet gesture, honestly. i love you so much,” you told him as you bit your lip. folding your legs to your chest, wrapping one around them.

“god, i love you. i swear i’ll make it up to you,” he ran his hand through his hair, giving you a quick peek of his bare chest.

“i’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, you glanced to the clock on your nightstand, sighing when you saw the time. “i’ve gotta go,” you said as you stood up and stretched. a wicked idea ran through you head. “i’ve got like five meetings today, so i’ll probably be busy most of the day. just in case i don’t reply or something,” you made up you lie quickly. grabbing your laptop and opening a new tab.

“oh, okay. i’ll be on set until like 1 am, so we’ll talk tomorrow?” he asked, eyes bright. you nodded, biting your lip.

“definitely. i love you,” you blew him a kiss. he smiled, and you felt your heart swelling.

“i love you, too. good luck today!” he said as you reluctantly hung up the call.

you immediately got to work, calling your assistant and telling her you were taking a few personal weeks, and to email you in case of emergencies. next, you texted harry, asking him to call you once tom was busy on set.

you waited for the page to load, and once you had bought your one-way ticket to atlanta you hurriedly threw some pre-planned outfits into two suitcases, just in case. your phone rang and harry’s face popped up on your screen. you quickly answered the call, and let him know of your out-of-the-blue plan. he agreed to meet you at the airport and drive you to set. and because of your recent and sudden rise to fame, he suggested you wear all black and a cap. you followed his advice, throwing on some sunglasses as well, as you had seen tom do many times before.

once you reached the airport and checked-in, you bought some coffee and breakfast, as well as some food for the flight. you opened instagram, seeing all the messages and comments. you had seen how the fans reacted when their favorite celebrities announced a relationship, and you knew to expect the meanest comments, and even death threats. for your own sake and peace of mind, you allowed yourself to scroll until you read three of those, and closed the app.

once the plane took off, you tried to catch some sleep, preparing for the inevitable jet lag, but your mind kept buzzing from one scenario to another. so you took out your book and tried to read some chapters, putting in your earbuds, music playing quietly.

when you finally, finally landed, you stretched your legs and grabbed your bags, putting on the cap and sunglasses again, you spotted a familiar head of wild curls. you quickly approached harry.

“what happened to all black and a cap to go unnoticed?” you asked as he took one of your bags in his hands.

“think about it, two kids wearing black, a cap and sunglasses? people would think we’re up to no good.” he gave you a tight hug, you’d missed him almost as much as you’d missed tom.

he caught you up on everything he and tom had been doing these past months, you shifted in your seat in excitement, the sleep that was slowly taking over you on the plane had now disappeared from your body.

in what was probably a 15 -but to you felt like five- minute drive, you got to the hotel to leave your bags and take a quick shower. harry left you alone in tom’s room, making his way to his own room next door. he said he’d order something for you to eat whilst you got ready to see tom.

you took the quickest shower ever known to humankind, and when you walked out of the bathroom after using tom’s shampoo and conditioner, -you’d missed his smell all over you. the few forgotten hoodies and shirts that were once drenched in the smell of his soap and cologne, were now very faint.- you wrapped a bathrobe around your body, rummaging through tom’s clothes until you found one of his shirts.

you pulled it close to your face, sighing at the familiar scent you’d missed so much. you got dressed quickly, grabbing your now fully-charged phone and the key to tom’s room that harry had left on a coffee table. you knocked on harry’s door and he let you in.

“i just texted tom, he says they’ve got like three hours left.” you sat next to him on the couch, the table in front of you filled with food waiting to be devoured.

“my poor baby, they overwork him,” you pouted, reaching for one of the plates.

“it was his idea, said he’ll do anything that helps finish filming sooner.” you stopped chewing your food.

“wait, really?” you asked in disbelief, you knew tom loved his job, and you found it odd that he wanted to cut his time on set short.

“yeah, it’s been rough for him. not having you around, i mean, after he spent months with you. he’s been pretty distracted lately. messing up lines, he’s been waking up late and missing early calls...” your heart sank at the words. you ate the rest of your food with a knot in your stomach, cursing yourself for not getting there sooner. soon enough, you were back in the car, your leg bouncing up and down. you fell asleep on your way to set, waking up when harry parked the car and nudged your shoulder.

you stepped out carefully, your head turning back every few steps you took, in fear that tom might catch you. once you reached the stage where tom was filming, you flashed the visitor badge harry had given you to the guard and he let you both in. you walked in as you leaned down, your forehead against harry’s back, shielding you from the curious stares. harry told you to hide behind a giant box where they kept some lights whilst he spoke to the director.

although the box was big and tall enough to cover you completely, you crouched down, straining your ears for nearing footsteps. you heard two sets of feet approaching, your heartbeat racing.

you were met with your accomplice, a friendly-looking man behind him. you stood up as they approached you.

“this the girl?” the man asked, and harry nodded, “nice to meetcha, i’m jon.” you shook his hand, “okay, so we’ve cleared tom’s schedule for one week, we’ll need him back fully recharged and ready to work like it’s his first day on set, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like, if it means he’ll work better if you’re here you can stay until we're done. i really don’t mind, i just need my guy back.” you blinked at his words, nodding slowly. “we’ve got a couple hours left tonight, i’m all up for some cheesy reunion, but it’ll have to be when we’re finished, i can barely keep him focused as it is.”

with that he left, and harry led you to tom’s trailer, where you caught some sleep while you waited. like that morning, you woke up to your phone buzzing. you reached for it, sleep leaving your body as you read the text.

‘just finished filming for the night, i’m exhausted. miss u, love you. x.’

all rational thoughts left your head, you opened the door to tom’s trailer and sprinted out of there until you reached the set. your eyes finally, finally met his figure, and tears filled your eyes.

your legs moved on their own accord, you mumbled apologies as you crashed into people, but you didn’t care. tom had his back to you, and even though he wasn’t wearing the spiderman costume, you’d recognize that ass anywhere.

“tom!” you called out, stopping a few feet away from him. you saw him whipping his head around, eyes scanning the sea of people. you made your way up to him, “tommy!” you repeated, and he finally turned around.

his mouth wide opened in disbelief, arms twitching, feet running towards you as you did the same. you crashed into each other, your legs wrapping around him, arms around his neck, fingers curling on his soft hair. his hands running all over your back, your hair. pulling you as close as humanly possible.

whispers of ‘i love you’, ‘god, i missed you’, ‘never leave me again’, and ‘i promise’ were exchanged. you tightened your hold on his hair, pulling back to look at him.

“hi,” you whispered, your nose brushing his.

“hey,” he replied, burying his face on your neck again, pressing small kisses anywhere he could reach. his hands settled on the back of your thighs as he spun you two. you giggled, sniffling as a few tears escaped your eyes.

you could not care less about the people around you, all you could think about was the boy wrapped all over you, your favorite boy. tom led you back to his trailer, where you finally untangled yourself from him. he settled you down and you immediately wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you again.

you had been starved of his touch for so long, there was no way you were letting him go anytime soon.

after many kisses, touches, tears, promises and more kisses, you left for the hotel. harry had already left, getting a ride from another cast member to leave you two alone. at that moment you swore you’d make him godfather of your firstborn child.

as you waited for tom to step out of the shower -you would’ve joined him, but three showers in a day seemed kind of excessive-, you laid down on the bed, throwing the covers over your body, tom's scent engulfing you. you breathed in happily. you tapped on your phone, replying to some work emails when you received a text from harry.

‘i believe the ball is in your court. you’re welcome.’

next, you received a picture of you and tom. harry must’ve taken the picture when you and tom were too lost in each other to even notice anyone around you. in the picture, your legs are around tom, bodies pressed closed together, your noses touching as you stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. it was a beautiful picture. and the black and white filter harry had applied to it made it seem like one of those old pictures of wives reuniting with their spouses after the war.

you smiled, heart swelling with emotion as you contemplated your options. you hummed quietly, tapping the instagram logo and waiting for the app to load.

you quickly uploaded the picture harry sent you tagging both him and tom and adding a quick caption before you shut down your phone. you were drifting off to sleep when you felt familiar arms around you.

you leaned into tom’s touch, your back resting against his chest, legs tangling with his as he interlocked his fingers with your own.

“thank you so much for being here, my love. i love you,” tom whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“i’ll be here whenever you need me. i’ll always come back to you.” you turned around, facing him. you kissed the corner of his lips, and he cupped your cheek, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss, filled with emotion. your fingers played with his fingers as you moved to straddle his waist. “i love you,” you broke the kiss reluctantly. as much as you both wanted to make love that night, you’d made it your top priority that tom took his time off to rest as much as he could, and that included that first night.

you gave him one last kiss, going back to your previous position. the familiar and comfortable weight of his arms around you, the feeling of his lips on your neck, his chest rising and falling against your back, you couldn’t ask for anything better.

the peaceful environment you had created suddenly burst like a bubble as tom’s phone pinged over and over again. you heard him grunting, arms reluctantly leaving you.

tom chuckled, putting his phone on do-not-disturb and throwing it somewhere on the bed.

“you’re perfect for me, my favorite girl.” you smiled, leaning into his touch as he kissed you all over. sleep quickly taking over both of you.

tom swore his heart stopped when he’d seen the picture you posted. you’d never looked more beautiful than when you were staring up at him, your bottom lip between your teeth. the words you wrote as a caption were the last thing on his brain as he finally succumbed to sleep.

‘i said, “i bet you can’t keep this a secret for five months.” he said, “darling, i won’t make it past three.” @ tomholland2013 it’s been 10 months, who won?’

edit: i just saw henry cavill's ig post and omg what is my life. pls respect celebrities' privacy and relationships.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #marvel #mcu #avengers imagine

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eclipsednodes · 5 years ago

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SHADOW WORK SIMPLIFIED

What is shadow work?

If I had to describe shadow work in one word, it would be introspection. Introspection is the examination of your own mental state and is necessary in order to learn more about your fundamental nature. Although it may sound off-putting and even scary at first, shadow work is a necessary component in the process of healing. We all have aspects of ourselves that we’ve rejected and hidden away out of fear. Through shadow work, we’re able to reflect on our thoughts, emotions, and habits so that we can find the root cause of our suffering and heal ourselves. By reincorporating those aspects of ourselves that we’ve denied, we feel more fulfilled and can begin to love ourselves fully.

Where does shadow work come from?

The concept of the shadow self comes from Carl Jung who believed that our shadow self is the subconscious aspect, or “dark side”, of our personality that our conscious ego doesn’t identify with. However, I would like to clarify that “dark” does not imply or equate with bad. That which resides outside of our consciousness can be either good or bad, but aren’t inherently reflective of our value or “goodness” as a person.

Although these repressed aspects of ourselves can manifest negatively, it isn’t because those parts of us are “bad”, but that the process of repression is inherently painful and toxic. This is reflected by Jung when he states, "Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.” He believed that until we’ve merged our conscious and subconscious selves, that our conscious would be “the slave of the autonomous shadow”. This is due to the shadow self overwhelming our conscious selves by falling victim to our own self-imposed traps.

Through assimilating this shadow self, not over-identifying with it, Jung believed we go through the process of enantiodromia, thereby integrating the subconscious by reincorporating our shadow selves into our personality and allowing us to solidify ourselves through wholeness. He best described this by stating "assimilation of the shadow gives a man body, so to speak.” However, don’t fall into the misconception that shadow work is a short-term practice. Shadow work is a continuous practice and integration of the shadow self is a will take place throughout your life.

How do I do shadow work?

In the last question, I identified that practicing self-reflection is a key component of shadow work, but what does that mean? What am I supposed to be reflecting on? Well, the first thing that you should focus on is being present throughout the day. Identify feelings that come up throughout the day and observe them objectively. What situation or interaction triggered these emotions? How did I react to those emotions? Were my emotions controlling me or was I in control of my emotions? Why did this situation or interaction cause me to feel this way? How did I cope with those feelings (self-harming, lashing out at others, communicating my feelings, journalling, etc.)? Did I punish myself for getting upset? If so, why?

There are numerous ways to reflect on your feelings and experiences in order to get a better understanding of yourself. Through evaluating how you react to situations, which situations upset you, and how you managed those feelings, you’re able to build the foundation to understanding your emotions and bridge the gap between your subconscious and conscious mind.

Once you’ve done this, you’ll find that the emotions you feel in the present are reflective of unhealed emotions from your past. Perhaps the reason you feel that you’re unable to set boundaries as an adult is because as a child, your parents never respected your boundaries by going through your phone or diary, yelling at you when you said no to a request, forcing you into situations that made you feel you had no choice.

By identifying the root cause of your emotional pain, you’re able to address it in the present and heal from the trauma. The simplest way that I’ve found to address them is through journalling. You can purchase a physical journal or even use your notes app, either way, you’re writing out your feelings and reflections to gain deeper insight. It’s important to remember that this looks different for anyone and that the best way to approach shadow work is by doing what feels most natural! You can choose to stick to self-reflective journal prompts, vent about whatever is upsetting you, write letters to whoever has hurt you, etc. Ultimately, you can guide yourself based off of what you feel you need and where you are in your journey.

What parts of yourself do you find yourself rejecting the most? Many of us have experienced the pain of rejection in some aspects of our lives and sometimes, it’s incredibly painful and leaves us with long-lasting wounds. We end up going through our lives carrying baggage that we don’t even know we have! Many times, I’ve found myself wondering why I felt so repulsed by aspects of myself and why I felt so strongly that they needed to be locked away forever. I couldn’t allow myself or others to see my truest self, my whole self, out of fear. I was scared of being rejected, shamed, humiliated by the people around me. I was scared of hurting other people by being myself and of being hurt by others. That’s no way to live, is it? When we tell ourselves that aspects of ourselves aren’t good enough, we end up going through life devaluing ourself. We’ve broken our own trust by rejecting ourselves, we’ve told ourselves that we aren’t good enough or worthy of love. In shadow work, you’re called to go inward and unpack everything that we’ve kept hidden for years and sometimes even decades.

Bring the parts of yourself that you’ve repressed to the surface and nourish them with love, allow yourself to see that ALL OF YOU is deserving of love and support. For you, that could mean unlearning your unhealthy beliefs about food or eating, allowing yourself to be emotional around the people you love (despite how much you were told that you were too emotional, a crybaby, too sensitive in the past), allowing yourself to relax without feeling guilty about not being productive because you recognize your needs (even though you feel your sense of worth is tied to being productive at the cost of your own health).

Common misconceptions about shadow work?

Shadow work is evil or bad, the shadow is evil or bad

The purpose of shadow work is healing through working with your subconscious to release repressed aspects of yourself and heal from painful, traumatic experiences. Your shadow side is simply your unconscious and to believe that it’s bad is to believe that you are bad. It’s merely the part of yourself that you aren’t aware of consciously and shouldn’t be feared.

Certain emotions are “bad”

When you let go of the idea that emotions are either good or bad, you’ll allow yourself to just be and stop putting so much pressure on yourself to feel “good” all of the time. Happiness isn’t a constant state of being so stop expecting to be all of the time, we have a range of emotions for a reason so stop being ashamed of them. Your feelings are natural and if you feel like they’re out of control and something to be ashamed of, there is nothing wrong with that! It’s okay to feel like your emotions are controlling you because that isn’t permanent. Your feelings aren’t permanent and are completely manageable with proper guidance! The reason you feel like your emotions are controlling you is because you probably don’t have the knowledge to cope with them in an effective and healthy way. It’s helpful to sit with your emotions alone and look at them objectively without placing any judgement on them, this will help you calm down and assess your feelings. From there, you can identify what you need to relax and recover as well as acknowledge to yourself that your feelings are natural. When you stop categorizing your emotions as bad, they’re no longer shameful to experience and therefore you can see with better clarity how to cope with them and move on.

I’ve already released it so…

Why am I still upset?

Why does it still keep popping up in my head?

Why haven’t I moved on?

Why am I not making progress?

With the rise of self development and spirituality, I find that more and more people are rushing to complete their healing. Healing is a continuous, life-long cycle and not a destination. Putting the pressure on yourself to reach the place of ultimate healing is not only toxic, but it impedes your ability to actually heal anything. Healing is about love, compassion, and patience and it’s not going to happen according to a timeline. Allow yourself the time to experience your emotions, see them objectively, forgive yourself and others and move on without the pressure of expectations.

Another reason that you could be experiencing this is that despite the work you think you’ve done, it hasn’t been sufficient. I’ve found that a lot of journal prompts provided online are surface level at best and can be more pacifying than revealing. If you’re not feeling anything while doing your inner work, you’re not doing it correctly. Ultimately, this is about uncovering what makes us UNCOMFORTABLE and moving through those feelings. When you allow yourself to experience the sadness, hurt, anger, and/or frustration than you’re telling yourself that these feelings are okay and don’t need to be suppressed. The reality is that no matter what you’re feeling, you are allowed to experience those emotions and it’s only human! Unfortunately, many people associate lower vibrational emotions as bad, but this is a huge misconception! Telling yourself that anger, sadness, etc. are “bad” implies that you shouldn’t experience these emotions and that you have to get rid of them which is not only wrong, but unhealthy. There is no right or wrong emotions so don’t buy into the belief that you should feel a certain way, simply allow yourself to be and you’ll find that it’s much easier to navigate your emotions and needs. The only way to make it to the other side is by wading through the water, be patient and know that you’re feeling exactly what you should be. When you stop censoring yourself, you’ll discover a newfound sense of freedom and wholeness.

If you find yourself circling back to certain topics, for example, your ex-boyfriend than perhaps there are triggers in your environment that remind you of the situation, you have more that needs to be addressed that you may not have been ready for or aware of previously (hence why shadow work is a practice that is ongoing), or they’re representative of a deeper issue that you’re repressing. Whatever the cause is, the same methods as earlier will apply and can be discerned through your own intuition.

What are some basic journal prompts that I can do?

What feelings come up when you think of ____?

How did that experience make you feel emotionally? How did it make you feel about yourself? How did it make you feel about the other person or people?

Write a letter to yourself, your inner child, the people who’ve hurt you, and the people you’ve hurt. Express how you feel honestly, without holding back and then forgive yourself and the other person.

If you could say anything to yourself or another person for closure, what would it be?

How have these situations and experiences impacted your mental health? How have they affected your belief system about yourself, other people, and the world?

What about yourself are you ashamed of? What about yourself are you embarrassed of? What about yourself makes you angry? What do you regret? Why do you feel this way about yourself and where do these feelings stem from?

What makes you feel most alone? What makes you feel most loved? How can you incorporate that knowledge into your life to make it better?

What’s the most hurtful thing someone has said or done to you? Why did it hurt you so much? How does it still affect you now? How can you heal from it and allow yourself to move on?

What do you need to forgive yourself for? What do you need to forgive others for?

Where do you feel you lack security in your life? Why? How does this impact your life and your relationships?

This is a list of generic prompts for you to start with, but feel free to message me if you need help with more specific topics or I can make another post altogether for journal prompts.

#shadow work #spirituality #witchblr #carl jung #witchcraft #energy work #healing #shadow self

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moonstruck-writing · 3 years ago

Text

Like the inside of your hoodie

Pairing: Tsuzuru Minagi x gn!reader | A3! Prompt: Feb 3rd – “Again with my clothes?” “They smell like you.” Event: Be my Valentine hosted by @xxsycamore and @chaosangel767 Rating: General C/W: fluff, a bit of angst (it turned more angsty than I intended to), relationship struggles and how they’re solved, honestly just explaining misunderstandings and showing your love for each other. Summary: You have been dating Tsuzuru for long enough to know his strong points and his vices, and yet, it still caught you off guard when he took even more writing upon him. Especially when you had made plans to meet. Word count: 2.323 A/N: This is my first entry for the event ^-^ I’m super excited to be participating!! Honestly, I’ve never looked forward to Valentine’s Day this much lol. I hope you can enjoy this <3 (and I hope the happy ending makes up for the angst, honestly I’m nervous about writing angst for a valentine’s event, but there’s a ton of love in here :c I promise).

*A3!EN news that the app will be deleted* my brain: you can't control what inspires me !! *starts writing more A3! Fanfiction*

Mankai’s timeline escapes my understanding so, let’s say this happens at some point after ACT 1 ?

You check the time on your phone once again before deciding to approach the dorms. Tsuzuru isn’t reading your texts, and it’s already 10 past the time you had agreed to meet. Shortly after ringing the doorbell, Muku appears timidly behind the door.

“Oh, I remember you! You’re Tsuzuru’s significant other!”

His choice of words surprises you. In just a second, your skin resembles his hair.

“Hi, um… Muku?” You’re unsure about whether you remember his name correctly. The few times you’ve been there, there are always so many people in the living room that the number of names to memorize floods your brain.

“Yes! I guess you’re here to see Tsuzuru?”

You nod and he realizes you’re still standing in the doorway, so he urges you inside. When he sees you’re not taking your shoes off, he pulls a pair of slippers from the cabinet.

“Here, please use this.”

“Oh, thank you but I don’t think I’ll be staying? Tsuzuru and I had plans to go out.”

Muku offers you a gentle smile.

“I think Tsuzuru was finishing the new script for the Spring troupe.”

Oh, no. Another one? You hadn’t heard anything of that.

“But it’s February?”

“If I remember correctly, he mentioned he wants to have the scripts extra early so they can do several plays per season.”

“And when was the deadline for that?”

“Um… I think there was no deadline this time? Because he was doing it early? The director said he should take it easy…”

You sigh. Tsuzuru, taking it easy? You’d like to see that, especially when it comes to writing. It seemed that the only thing that he took easy was your relatio- no. You had decided you wouldn’t have those thoughts.

“You can go to his room if you want.”

“Oh, isn’t… his roommate in?” For some reason, you can’t remember his name even if you’ve heard it a million times. Your brain is too busy worrying, so you decide to take off your shoes to distract yourself with something.

“He’s on the sofa now.” Muku laughs and signals with his head to the side. You peek from the entrance and see a familiar guy wearing headphones.

“Okay, I’ll… check up on Tsuzuru, then.”

“Good luck. Oh, and have fun with your date!”

You wave and thank him. You really need good luck, there aren’t great prospects. You head to Tsuzuru's room and knock a few times. The silence that greets you makes you say goodbye to the plans you had in your head.

After closing the door behind you, you sigh with relief when you see his figure laying down in bed. It’s an improvement from other times he’s passed out on the floor or on the desk, and you can be hopeful maybe that means he is done with the script. And he wasn’t just ignoring your messages on purpose.

You look around the room and see his laptop is still on, the screen black. With curiosity, you try moving the mouse and a document appears on the screen.

“The End”

So he really did it. He did it, and maybe, just maybe, it means that you’ll be able to spend more time with him from now on, even if it’s only a little bit. Even if it’s only till the next play, the next script. You can have this moment of joy, right?

Turning away from the computer – you don’t want to pry on the script, Tsuzuru will show it to you in due time – you move the chair slowly so as not to wake him up. Sitting down, you face his body on the bed. You’d like to say he sleeps like the angels after he is exhausted to death, but truth is, he doesn’t. You can see his eyes are half-open and he is snoring quite loudly. Sleep deprivation really does not suit him at all, and you wish that now that it seems he’ll have to be writing even more than before, he gets better habits.

Like replying to your texts and remembering when you’re meeting.

You look away, trying to shake those thoughts away. Everybody makes mistakes. You can bring it up when he’s conscious, but… you need to trust he isn’t doing it on purpose. You need to trust his feelings for you.

Leaning to one side, you lower your head until your cheek is buried in the blue hoodie that’s hanging from the back of the chair. His scent reaches your nose, and you close your eyes, breathing in. You suddenly feel the tension you didn’t know you were holding, float away. Without thinking, you take off your coat and jacket and slip his hoodie on. You raise the collar to your nose and feel a warmth that’s not caused by the fabric.

“Again with my clothes?” The sound of your clothes rustling must’ve woken him up.

The surprise of hearing Tsuzuru’s voice could’ve made you jolt, but you love his voice so much, a wave of affection washes over you. Finally, you’re hearing it. Your boyfriend’s voice.

“They smell like you,” you reply lowering the collar to its normal position. He is rubbing his entire face, trying to shoo the sleepiness away.

“You’re smiling.” When he points it out, you realize you indeed are smiling widely.

“Well, I’m going on a date with my boyfriend this evening.”

Tsuzuru drops his hands almost immediately, now fully awake. The face he is making is quite funny, but you’re glad it shows he didn’t remember, and he feels bad about it. It’s not an act, you know him enough for that.

“I’m so sorry, what time’s it? I’m sorry I made you wait and come to get me, I’m really – you must be so annoyed with me.”

“It’s not that late, only about 30 minutes late, and I got to see you asleep and to wear this hoodie… oh, and Muku called me your significant other.” You giggle a little, but you know your face doesn’t correspond with your words. It’s always like that.

“This is no way of treating… a significant other.” His voice loses its sharpness by the end of the sentence. “Let me make it up to you.”

“Actually, Tsuzuru, this isn’t the first time that’s happened.” You’re looking down and you can feel your heart is beating like crazy, but you know it is the right thing to do.

He doesn’t say anything, and you hear rustling. He takes your hands in his, and you force yourself to look at him. It feels like you can’t even move the muscles in your face, but at least you’re not crying.

“Will you please look at me?” His voice is soft, and you can feel his hands warming yours. You breathe deeply, trying to calm down, and look at him. “I’m so sorry, and I know saying sorry is not enough, and there are no excuses for being such a lame boyfriend.”

“But surely you must have reasons?” Your voice is so small it seems to belong to someone else and not you. You had been pushing down these feelings for so long, and now you don’t know what to do with them anymore.

Tsuzuru sighs and lets go of one of your hands in favour of rubbing his face again. He has just woken up and he is having this type of conversation. He is less prepared than he could be. Not that he would ever be prepared to have trouble with you.

“I thought I had set an alarm.” He starts, not looking at you. “I… I wanted to finish the script early, and I did, and then I was just going to rest for a bit and go out with you and be able to pay full attention to you, but now…”

“Tsuzuru, how many days have you worked through without real sleep?”

“Only three. Or four.” He looks at you like it’s not a big deal. He took naps, kinda.

You pick up his phone from the desk and easily unlock it using your fingerprint. As you thought, the first thing that appears on the screen is the alarm app.

“You must’ve slept through your alarms.”

“I’m sorr-”

“You could’ve just told me?”

“Told you?” He hides his free hand in his jean pocket.

“Yeah, we would’ve rescheduled, you could’ve slept for a day, and probably you would’ve also had time for eating something. You can’t survive just with protein bars for days, you know.” You pick up the stack of empty wrapping that’s next to the mouse and throw it into the bin.

“I didn’t want to reschedule.” He squeezes your hand, making you look at him.

“Why not?”

“Well… Valentine’s Day is around the corner and… I didn’t want to cause you any unnecessary worry. I wanted to show you you are my priority, and I messed up big time.”

“You could’ve still told me about the script. Maybe I could’ve just come and hung out with you, I don’t know. It’s not the first time we hang out together while you work.”

“…I don’t want you to get bored of me.” His voice is barely a whisper now, and his hand squeezes yours tighter.

“Why would I get bored of you?”

“I…well, you know how I get when I’m in the middle of a script. My brain just… everything can be ideas for it and then I just want to write them as fast as possible and theatre is all I talk about even if I’m with you or if we’re in the middle of a date, and we don’t even have that many opportunities to go on dates because I have my part-time job and rehearsals and- I don’t want you to get tired of all this, I don’t want to have less time for you, I don’t want to have to reschedule and-” He has been speaking without looking at you once. You reach for his face and cup his cheek.

“Tsuzuru, I know you, and I knew you were in theatre and that you wrote scripts before we even began dating. Yes, it’s true I never knew it could get this crazy while you’re in the middle of a script, but… You’re still you. In fact, you’re you for it. And now… I know you like the inside of your hoodie,” you say, trying to impress him with your choice of words, and trying to lighten the mood. He smiles a little and you also relax.

“Hey, how many times have you secretly worn this already?”

“Not enough times.” You hide your hands inside of the pocket. “I know you like this hoodie, and yet… sometimes I still find mysterious pockets suddenly appearing.”

“Well, I need to surprise you so you don’t get bored, right?”

“Again with this? Honestly, sometimes I wish you were less surprising.” You gently nudge him and he playfully falls backwards on the bed. Suddenly, one of the things he had said clicked in your mind. “Did you… did you try to finish the script faster than usual?”

“Well, of course. I wanted to meet with you, and give you my full attention. I told you. But… not just that.” He gets back up and looks at you. “I actually… wanted to show you some parts of the script.”

“Yeah? You’re happy with how it turned out?”

“Yes, but I also wanted to ask your thoughts on certain parts.”

You chuckle.

“Tsuzuru, I’m no professional. I’m not you.”

“Ah, I’m not a professional either.” He blushes a bit. “But your opinion is still important to me. I wanted… to write something that you would enjoy.” He looks away from you. “Since, you know… you always end up reading it… and you always come to watch our plays…”

Warmth begins to spread in your chest. You feel like laughing. What the hell had you been worrying about? It feels stupid now, like a nightmare you wake up from. And you love this reality.

“You’re incredible, Tsuzuru. I love you.”

“I love you too.” His smile gets bigger, and he giggles a little. “In fact, I think I love you more.”

“Eh? How dare you!” You jump from your seat to tumble on top of him, making him fall backwards again. Your arms twine around his neck, and he hugs you tightly while your bodies wiggle with laughter.

“I know you love me,” you whisper looking at him. “But sometimes… I wish I felt it instead of hearing it.”

“You have a way with words today, huh?” He closes the distance between your faces and brushes your noses together.

“Well, it must be your skill rubbing off on me.” You kiss him softly, melting a bit more in his arms. Now that the tension and worrying are over, you feel as if you’re floating. He returns the kiss, but before you can get lost in his warmth and sweetness, you break away.

“If rescheduling means you’ll take better care of yourself, I want you to reschedule next time. Or at least tell me what’s going on, please?” You place your arms on his chest, propelling yourself up to properly see his face.

“…I’ll tell you what’s going on. But I won’t reschedule.”

You pout but decide it’s good enough.

“Nap?” You suggest, seeing the dark circles under his eyes.

“Yes, please. I love napping with you.” You get off of him and entwine your legs with his. “But if you get bored, you have to wake me up.” If you can, Tsuzuru thinks.

“I won’t get bored, I can do this.” You move to gently peck his lips.

You stay so close, with a gentle move forwards and you’re both brushing your lips together. Your breaths mix together, and Tsuzuru caresses your hair with his eyes closed. This quiet proximity is bliss.

It’s not clear which one of you falls asleep first.

Likes/reblogs and comments are always highly appreciated <3

Please do NOT repost. Reblogging is okay. Content belongs to @moonstruck-writing

#be my valentine content creation challenge #a3! fic #a3! fanfic #a3! fluff #a3! tsuzuru #tsuzuru minagi #a3 tsuzuru #tsuzuru x reader #luna writes #a3 fanfiction #a3 fic #a3 fanbase let's continue blooming🌸#a3! act! addict! actors!

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words-for-holland · 4 years ago

Text

Always Yours

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Sometimes dating a celebrity is hard...but Tom & Y/N have always said no matter what happens they could get through anything. Some angst but a lot of fluff.

A/N: So sorry for leaving yall hanging! Life is just crazy right now and this blog needs a lot of TLC tbh!! Also ehh I def dont think this was my best work but enjoy?

“Oof” Y/N lets out as she plops on to her boyfriend who was lying comfortable on the couch. Tom groaned at the impact with a cheeky smile on his face, his arms instantly wrapping around Y/N’s frame.

“Y’know..there are empty seats right there.” The soft brown-eyed boy gestured with the flick of his thick head as Y/N raises her eyes looking down at him, pretending to be slightly offended.

“Oh I see how it is then. It’s cool...Ill just cuddle with Tessa instead. I know she would welcome me with open arms instead of—” As she slowly starts getting off his chest, Tom is quick to pull her back in, securing her with his strong arms. “No baby, I was just kidding. I want you right here, and Im never letting you go.” he pleas.

The only thing Y/N could manage was letting out a fit of giggles into his chest, a sound that Tom adored and would do absolutely anything to hear every minute of every day. They stay like this for a while enjoying the feeling of each other as they both run their hands into each others hair, the feeling of their chests moving up and down, the subtle thumps of their heartbeats, and the little slips of adoration that came out of their mouths. It was peaceful. A moment that nobody could really take a way because it was theirs.

Y/N casually pulls up her phone, and scrolls through Twitter when she noticed a particular tweet on her timeline. Her eyebrows furrow, as she read the 160 character message.

Why Tom Holland Should Be With Aaliyah Cole and Dump Y/N: A Thread.

She knew it wasnt a good idea to open up the thread. She knew very well that everything within the shallow string of tweets would be a complete waste of her time because it was made up by fans who just wanted to satisfy their fantasy of shipping Tom with his co-star. Who can blame them? They always had great chemistry, but it was part of the job and thats all it would ever be.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Tom murmurs, as he places soft kisses at the crown of her head. “Whats going on?” She was lucky her phone was facing away from Tom, quickly closing the app and pretending to be on one of her many tabs in Safari.

“Mmm..nothing.” Y/N lies softly, a tight-lipped smiled plastered on her face.

“Absolute bullocks. Youre not a very good liar.” He chuckles. “Tell me darling. Whats on your mind?”

Y/N rolls her eyes in response. She’s heard that comment one too many times in her life from everyone shes known. After not giving it much thought, she gives in, sighing heavily. “Dont judge me for what Im about to say.”

“Mmm...I think it might depend on wha— Ow” Tom reacts as he playfully rubs the side of his chest that Y/N hit. “Okay too soon for jokes. Go on.”

Again, Y/N sighs as she props herself up. “Its just ... well a lot of your fans keeps talking about wanting you to get with Aaliyah.” She looks down trying not to make eye contact with Tom, who she’d imagine was looking at her with annoyance.

Tom rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness. Not so much at Y/N but the fact that some of his fans just didnt want to accept the fact that he was happy with Y/N. If it had to come from his mouth to stop the stupid rumors and give his girlfriend peace, then hed gladly yell it from the rooftops for everyone to hear. “Thats it Im making a statement about it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in fear, scrambling to prevent him from grabbing his phone on the table next him. “No no no no.” She repeatedly declines. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“Darling, Im not going to stand here and watch you get all insecure because of their delusional ship.”

“Yeah well Im not gonna be the reason your fans hate me because Im getting in the way of your friendship with Aaliyah Cole.” She fires back.

Tom was ready to open his mouth only to be cut off once again. “And you know better. That is how your fans will always see it.”

“Okay, are you done?” He calmly asked, cautiously observing her. Rarely did Y/N ever get worked up about anything, but when she had her tangents, Tom always made sure she got off everything she needed to say before he becomes her voice of reason.

“Yeah, I guess.” she says feeling defeated. “Look its whatever and Im tired, can we just let this go and forget this whole conversation even happened?”

Tom was unconvinced, but didnt want to push her further. So reluctantly, he gave in and wrapped his arms around Y/N as they both tried to lull themselves to sleep.

***

Y/N wasnt sure how she ended up in the Tube. It was strange how the lights flickered off the rusted tile floor. The train was no where to be seen, but off to the side of the railroads was pitch black, she could hardly see beyond. To her right she noticed herself standing in the corner of the room, and to her surprise Aaliyah was there. Her milk chocolate kissed skin, and fashionably long frizzy hair dropped down past her shoulders. Her figure long and poised, as she wore a rain jacket and sweats. An outfit only she could pull off and make it look like she was a model for Vogue. Aasliyah smiles brightly at Y/N.

“Hey Y/N.” She says cheerfully as a genuine friend would.

To Y/N’s surprise she greeted her back in the same tone. “Hey Aaliyah...uhh whats going on?” Y/N wasnt sure if she wanted the answer of how they both ended up in the Tube or if she truly wanted to know how her day went.

“Well Im getting ready to present at the Oscars.” She replies, a smile plastered as if she was so excited about it, almost too excited like she was keeping a secret.

“Really? Oh my god, that’s amazing! Im so proud of you Aaliyah! Who are you taking?”

Aaliyah pauses for a few moment looking back and forth, making sure no one else was around. “Okay can you keep a secret?” She whispered.

Y/N nods her head slowly, not having the slightest clue of what was going on. “Im taking Tom. I think he really likes me, and well...I like him too! Do you think maybe I should ask him when we go?” Aaliyah asked genuinely. It was almost like she had no recollection of Y/N and Tom being a couple. “I think we would look good together. Everyone is already making rumors and ships about us.”

Y/N backs aways lowly only to bump into a broad figure. As she turns around she sees Tom, emotionless and almost sad. “Y/N.” He speaks out. “I dont think this is going to work out. Im leaving you.”

Y/N’s heart quickens, and her breaths become shorter as she tries to find a way to run. Running and running into the darkness, until all she could hear was Tom’s faint voice calling out her name.

***

“Y/N! Y/N! Baby wake up please.” Tom cries as he gently shakes his girlfriend from her disturbed sleep.

Quickly Y/N opens her eyes and clutches on to Toms hoodie firmly. Back home, and in Toms arms. It was a dream was all she thought. A sigh of relief escaping from her mouth.

“Darling...” he speaks softly, worried about his girlfriend. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looks up at him and nods frantically. “Mmm..bad dream.”

“Yeah it seemed like it. You were so frightened...I was scared. What happened?” He’s looking at her, trying to read her saddened eyes, wanting to desperately understand what scared her so he could make it all go away for her.

Y/N looks down at her fiddling hands, as she sits on the couch. “I uhh...” she lets out a chuckle, thinking of the ridiculousness of it all. “I uhh...dreamed about Aaliyah going to the oscars and saying how she loved you and how you two are perfect for each other. When I turned around I saw you but you werent happy and said you were leaving me.”

Tom doesnt say a word, all he could think about was how sorry he felt to put Y/N in this position. Though both of them knew, It wasnt Toms fault, or anyone’s for that matter. Feelings are feelings and that was okay. No human being was ever born perfect and without insecurities.

Y/N always tried to be a good sport with situations like this knowing every shippers theory and evidence were hardly ever true, but at some point there was only so much she could take before it all came out like an oil spill. Maybe it was a sign that she wasnt good enough to be with Tom if half of his fanbase thought this way as well.

Tom cradled her into his arms again, holding her tightly and kissing the top of her head. “Darling, I know youre still doubting yourself about all of this, but please believe me when I tell you that I love you so so much and no matter what happens...Im always yours.” He whispers gently in her ear. “It was only a dream and these ridiculous rumors and theories are just that. No one woman in the world could ever make me feel the way I feel for you.”

Y/N blinks softly, as she stares into space. Afraid and in a weird way ashamed, its funny how something so small and so minimal could affect her self-esteem so greatly. Tom gently brings her head up, so her eyes can meet his. He rolls his thumb on the bottom of her soft lips. “Hey, I love you.” Tom smiles.

Time stopped for the both of them the moment Y/N looked into his eyes, she felt safe. All the bad words and thoughts slowly disappear. Tom was right, none of the things that anyone said about their relationship mattered. She knew Tom loved her, and how much she truly loved him. Isnt that enough? Of course not. It was more than enough. A smile slowly forming on Y/N’s face. “Theres that smile I love so much.” He comments.

“Im sorry, for being such a —”

“No. Its okay. You have a right to feel the way you did.” He picks up her hand and leaves a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much Tom.” She says pressing her lips to his. “I dont deserve you.”

“Darling, its me that doesnt deserve you. Im always yours.” Tom proclaims as he kisses her back.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

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yama951 · 2 years ago

Text

Jubilife City, Sinnoh Region, 2022 AC

Emmet, Elesa, and Looker booked a hotel before arriving at the Sinnoh History Museum. One of the museum’s workers guided them through to a meeting room.

“Ah, you made it. I’m Cynthia, the guy next to me is an ICRS agent from the Temporal Division.” Cynthia said as she stood up to shake their hands. The agent glanced at Emmet, curious.

“They weren’t lying that we would be dealing with Zekrom in a human form.” the agent muttered as he stood up for the presentation. “Okay, so what we’re dealing with is a whole temporal headache. Before we start…” he then called out his gallade and they went to double check the room’s doors and windows. The gallade then stood out by the door like a guard. The agent then placed some papers on the desk. “Basic NDAs. Mainly to prevent messing up with the timeline if the knowledge gets leaked out. Technically we don’t need it because higher powers, that is the celebi, tend to cultivate the forest-tree of time, but again, that’s a headache cause I would need to explain how three dimensional time works.”

“I am Emmet. I’m already getting a headache just listening to this.” Emmet said as he sat down and signed the NDA. Elesa, Cynthia, and Looker joined in signing their NDAs.

Once signed, the agent pulled out the arceus themed smartphone.

“Was this Ingo’s?” he asked as he placed it on the table.

“No. He would never get something that bulky and gaudy.” Elesa commented as Emmet grabbed the smartphone and easily unlocked the password.

“It has Ingo’s password and screen background. It even has his apps.” he commented.

“Then why the phone case? That is a phone case right?”

“No, it’s a part of the phone itself.” Cynthia explained. “It has an infinite battery and who knows what other abilities it has but it’s still early in our analysis to figure out what it has. Given the appearance, I think it’s blessed by Arceus for some unknown reason. Most of the data remains scrambled for some unknown reason though.”

Emmet stared at the smartphone, feeling something was off about. He brought the phone close to his face for a stare and a sniff.

“I am Emmet. Something’s not right with Ingo’s phone, and I don’t mean its appearance.” his silver on crimson eyes suddenly glowed. “It’s not in an Ideal state. It’s tainted.” he growled out.

“Em…” Elesa muttered, wanting to ground him once more, only for Emmet to stand up, sparks coiling around him, emanating a deep draconic rage.

Emmet’s growling just got louder in frustration as he glared at the phone.

“I can’t enforce the Truth.” he started. “I can’t undo whatever power that corrupted his phone, blessed and damned in equal measure.”

“Do dragons speak like that?” Cynthia whispered to Elesa.

“Like a Galaran wordsmith? Yeah.” she answered, her worry growing.

Emmet then grinned as he went deeper into Zekrom’s power.

“I am EmmMet!” he shouted as a sudden burst of pressure pushed everyone away. In their minds, images of numerous wars, battles, competitions, sports, and contests of every magnitude and form flashed as the Will echoed a self-evident ideal.

I am Victory-in-Battle!

“By my WILL, I order the foul corruption, That Which Is Not, to appear before my regal presence! SHALL thee, oh abhorrence mine, appear before me? Or MUST I Proclaim it upon existence!?”

“E-Emmet…” Elesa’s shouts came out as a whisper before the roaring dragon, before the antediluvian power that was coalescing before her.

The smartphone then glowed a light that seemed to touch everything and everyone in the room in a transcendent radiance, before a vile and viscous grayish dark teal sludge leaked out and floated into the air, reforming into a strange yet familiar shape, a porygon-z.

Yet it was completely wrong somehow, that it pained the eyes of those watching.

Its blue was a dull grayish dark teal. Its red was a sharp magenta. Its eyes were yellow in a way that wasn’t yellow. The Erd color of the color spectrum if Elesa recalled right. Red, orange, E, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet, all seven colors of the rainbow.

A child-like giggle echoed from the porygon-z.

“It’s been too long, big brother. Or maybe you’re more of a cousin?” the not-child’s voice sweetly giggled as Elesa looked at its three? 1, 2, E, 3, yes, three limbs.

A hand covered her eyes, trying to pull her away.

“We’re not safe here.” the ICRS agent warned, holding back his terror. “Don’t look at it. Don’t try to understand it. It’s a cognitohazard.” he said as Elesa glanced down to look away and noticed his hand repeatedly pressing a button in his pocket. “Everyone else, do the same. Look away.” he told Cynthia and Looker, who also looked away from the strange porygon-z. “Let’s move as far away as we can.”

“I can’t leave Emmet with that thing.” Elesa nearly shouted despite the agent and Looker pulling her away.

“We’ll still be in the same room. We just shouldn’t look at it.”

The childish giggling seemingly echoed around them, only for Emmet to raise his arm in front of the retreating group in an act of protection.

“We are not related, oh abhorrence mine.” he growled.

“But we are, or at least the being you came from. Not the younger lightning, the one before that. The Original Dragon, the Dragon of Self-Evident Will, the one that made itself real by screaming its Will into the Original One’s pattern and not by the Original One’s thousand and one arms. You inspired us in that respect, big brother.”

“You are lying.” Emmet bared his fangs.

“But you are but a dream of the Dragon of All Ideals. What is an Ideal but a lie? You are a lie born of the first liar in their sleep. How real are you, compared to me? Are you even real?” The giggling returned only for Emmet’s clawed left hand to glow in a dark purplish-red, the tell-tale sign of dragon type energy. “The sinister one is having a tantrum again.” the false porygon-z pouted as Emmet roared in primeval rage. It was torn apart by a slash of Dragon Claw and continued giggling until it faded away. The baleful sludge vanished as if it never were.

The Ideal of Purification achieved.

Elesa’s head suddenly ached, along with the others, as her mind felt like something was dislodged out of a box that wouldn’t have the space to fit it.

She still managed to run to Emmet for a hug.

“That… whatever was that, it’s lying, Emmet. You are real! You are real. I've been your best friend for years! Ever since we met on our pokemon journey!” she cried as she felt a clawed gently pet her head down to her hair.

She looked up and saw his draconic ears had returned, but also his left hand had turned clawed and covered in tiny black scales. It felt strangely leathery despite appearances as black lines now graced Emmet’s face. Tears fell from the silver on red eyes as his prideful stance wavered, letting himself rest on Elesa’s arms.

“Thank you, oh treasure ours. Your presence has soothed the raging beast once more.” Emmet said with a chuckle.

“You are Emmet.” Elesa began.

“I am Emmet.” he repeated with gravitas.

“You are Emmet.”

“I am Emmet.” he said with certainty.

“You are Emmet.”

“I am Emmet.” he panted with relief as the powerful pressure faded from the room.

“No more dragon in your headspace?”

“I hope not.” Emmet said as he looked at his now draconic dominant hand and grabbed the smartphone, using his still human right hand. Unlike before, the data in the phone has been restored, whatever the fake porygon-z did was undone. “This message is new.” he said as he opened the message, dated on the day of Ingo’s disappearance.

You are in grave danger, Dream of All Truths, and so I grant you my blessing, for I can’t intervene directly lest All That Is be shattered by the strain. Let this be your ward and your charm, to protect you in your wandering. May you stay True to your Truths and not the Distortions of them. Have patience for my child, for their rage has blinded them to the plots and machinations made by the nonexistent. When you are lost, remember this, ‘all lives touch other lives to create something anew and alive’. May it guide you in your travels, oh companion mine.

Everyone was crowding to read the message, which the text glowed in golden light, on the phone’s screen.

Huh. I did not expect that.

Giratina said in their Origin Forme as they also read the message, floating behind the group, to their surprise and momentary panic.

The ICRS agent then told everyone that he called for backup via morse code and that they might be quarantined for a few days as standard procedure, just to be on the safe side even with legendary pokemon. One thing’s for sure, the issue has definitely become a possible greater threat.

Minutes later, Cynthia was walking back and forth, talking to herself about the theological implications and the definitions of the words of the message, sometimes glancing at her written copy of the text, hoping to get a new angle.

“... does companion mean partner or friend? Was the Original Dragon an equal of Arceus? Was… whatever that was telling the truth about how the Original Dragon of Unova self-made themselves? What did it mean by Arceus’ thousand and one arms?...” Emmet managed to hear as he sat next to Elesa, feeling rather tired.

Giratina floated nearby, curled up.

“I am Emmet. You are Giratina. You heard what that thing said.”

The Missing Number. I know of their effect on their surroundings, forcing itself to be the number between two and three, and thus allowing other things to enter through reality and break it down. The phone’s blessing made it unbreakable but their corruption broke the underlying mathematics that made the code function. It was lucky it only scrambled the data.

Giratina then turned to the ICRS agent.

I suggest checking on everyone that worked on descrambling the corrupted code. It might have infected their minds and thus spread. Mathematicians are especially in danger, for the equations and realities the Missing Number allows would ultimately bring forth the Nemesis Continuum and it would damage reality greatly, and I know Palkia would take their time before fixing it.

“R-right…” the agent said before he started making some calls.

The Missing Number remains a child still. Insisting on their spot between two and three yet denying anything else, denying a decimal or a fraction or an exponent or even a set of ten in their number. They demand their place between two and three, nothing more and nothing less. The fact that it shall break math and physics matters not to them.

Giratina then huffed.

“What it was saying. About myself and the Original Dragon…”

You exist. The fact that you exist on this side already proves that you are meant to exist. Of the Original Dragon, I do not know. I know that the elemental plates were made and that my siblings and I were made with dragon type energy but I did not meet the Original Dragon in the beginning of Creation, even back when I ruled over the Sacred Reality, where one set of natural laws and when one single timeline existed. It was only after the fractaling of the Sacred Reality into its current multiversal form did I see the Original Dragon through the mirrors and reflections around Unova. It crashed into the earth in a meteorite, yet damaged only a forest. Perhaps it was their Will alone that prevented a greater disaster.

Giratina then rubbed their chin with the tip of their tail.

Now that I think of it, there is no reality where the Original Dragon did not land in Unova from my vantage point in the Distortion World. That is an interesting paradox…

Before Emmet could ask for more, the doors to the room burst open and a gaggle of ICRS agents and their pokemon in protective gear andvarious equipment entered to scan and bring them for quarantine and questioning, keeping some distance from Emmet, Cynthia, and Giratina in the process.

All Emmet did was see his reflection in the mirror, upon the black lines that now tattooed on his face, and feared a human fear, of his twin brother not recognizing him once he saw him once more.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

Text

Sleepover

Warnings: noncon, fingering, oral, somniphilia, unprotected sex, pre-existing relationship

This is dark!Steve Rogers x reader (side of Sam Wilson x reader) in an established relationship and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader stops at a safe house but isn’t as safe as she thinks.

Note: Pretty much I wanted to make the trope “there was only one bed” dark, so I did. Reading the warnings. Last chance.

Also saw that @mcudarklibrary was having a somniphilia theme for August and September so thought this could be a contribution!

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

The safe house was small but it would do. It was just you for the night until you headed to the rendezvous and found your way back to New York. A week of reconnaissance and several days of retreat and you could have slept in the grass. Well, it wasn’t much better.

A double mattress on the floor between the narrow counter and table that folded into the wall. The bathroom was barely more than a closet. A tight shower and a floating sink beside the small toilet. You weren’t entirely sure why this was on the list of assigned safe points but it had been the closest.

You set your bag on the counter and unzipped it as you flipped on the light in the bathroom. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you answered as you pulled out the cotton tank and sweats you’d wear after a hot shower. The clothes you had on were better off burned than washed.

“Baby, I’ve been tryna call all day.” Sam didn’t even give you a chance to say hello.

“You know I’m on a mission, right?” You asked as you went into the bathroom and dropped your clothes on the closed toilet seat. “I can’t be on my phone all day.”

“Thought you were headed to the safe house?”

“I’m there now but it took a while,” You reached for the shower faucet but paused as you heard a rumble in the distance.

“I miss you, baby,” Sam purred. “Maybe we could have a little fun on the phone tonight… Facetime?”

“What the--” You went to the window as the roaring of the motor grew louder. You pulled back the thick curtain and peered out. You sighed. “Sam.”

“What?” He asked innocently.

“How much fun are we gonna have with my chaperone here?” You sneered.

“What do you--”

“Steve.” You said plainly as you watched Steve killed the engine and wheel his bike around the back of the house. “I can’t believe you.”

“I swear it wasn’t me, baby.”

“Mhmm, and you also didn’t tell him to tail me in Rome.” You huffed.

“That was different.” Sam argued. “I promise, it’s nothing to do with me.”

“You have fun alone.” You said. “Distance makes the heart grow… fonder, is it?”

“Baby--”

“Love you.” You sang and hung up before he could respond.

You really did love Sam but he could be overbearing. At first, being fellow agents had been fun and dangerous. But as things grew more serious, he acted more and more like a babysitter. You both took the same risks, you didn’t understand why he was anymore worried about you than himself.

You placed your phone on your duffel as you carefully stepped around the mattress that took up much of the space. You opened the door a crack as footfalls crept around the side. You pushed it open entirely as Steve came into site.

“Steve,” You greeted as you crossed your arms.

“Oh,” He looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t see your… car?”

“In the trees,” You nodded to the nearby forest. “Precautionary.”

“I… shit, I didn’t know you were here. I was just in the area on intelligence and needed somewhere to crash.”

“Mhmm,” You held open the door for him as he approached. “You sure someone didn’t tip you off?”

He blinked at you and turned back as he entered. You followed and locked the door.

“You mean Sam? Come on, after Rome, he can deal with his own paranoia.”

You squinted at him and sighed.

“Well, if you can’t tell, there isn’t much room.” You waved to the small space. “More a shed than a house.”

“Geez, yeah,” He looked around. “Well, I can--”

“It’s fine. These things happen. I’m sure you’ve slept on worse.” You shrugged. “Almost thought I’d be in my car for the night.”

“As long as it’s not too much of a bother.” He rubbed his neck. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”

“It’s one night. Won’t hurt anyone.” You said. “I’m just gonna get cleaned up and lay down. I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as I can.”

“Alright,” He put his bag down next to yours. “I’ll try to do the same.” He unzipped his bag. “Save some hot water for me.”

You gave a thin laugh and went back into the bathroom. You closed the door but it didn’t click. You tried several times and found the latch broken. You huffed and cranked the faucet. The shower whined and the water pattered down against the old porcelain.

You undressed, careful to keep an eye on the small space between the door and the frame as you did. You stepped behind the curtain and the rings rang against the rod as you pulled it into place.

You sighed as you melted beneath the hot water. You let the steam swallow you up and scrubbed your skin clean. You stepped out and took one of the half-dozen towels hidden away in the cupboard.

You let out a ‘whew’ as you dried off and dressed quickly. You walked out with the towel and draped it from a knob on the counter.

Steve turned away from the window. It was dark outside already. He smiled awkwardly.

“You done in there?” He asked.

“Mhmm,” You nodded and grabbed your phone as you let him past. The place was even smaller with him there.

You dropped down onto the bed and your screen it up with a notification. It was Sam. ‘Babe? Hello?’ You unlocked the phone and found several other messages.

‘Was in the shower. Looks like a long night with the old captain.’ You replied.

‘Hey, nothing to do with me. Promise. I’d check in myself ;)’

‘Sure, sure.’

‘Come on, baby, don’t be like that.’

‘Even if it wasn’t, night’s kinda ruined.’

‘Just don’t let him see ;P’

You shook your head and lowered the phone. The shower groaned in the next room and your stomach fluttered. It would be difficult but you did miss Sam terribly; in many ways.

‘I can’t.’ You typed as you listened to the stream of water. The door hadn’t caught for Steve either and upon a glance you saw his blurry silhouette behind the curtain. Sam was quick to respond.

‘You’ve done worse, baby. You remember Rio ;P’

‘I regret Rio’. You giggled under your breath, the memory of the humid hideaway and your little escape with Sam as Bucky kept watch. You were still certain he’d spotted you on his surveillance.

‘He’s an old man. He’ll probably sleep early.’

‘You realise this house is tiny. I’m surprised he fit through the door.’

‘But I miss you :)’

‘Don’t do that.’

‘I know you miss me more. Can’t wait for this sugar.’

You barely stifled your laughter as the shower stopped and you texted Sam a heart eye emoji before flipping to another app. You knew Sam wasn’t going to let up but it would be awkward enough spending the night here in such close confines with Steve. You and him were rarely alone; you usually had the buffer of Bucky or Sam. You’d always found the First Avenger a little stringent; tight-lipped and a bit of a hard ass.

Your eyes flicked up as the door opened all the way and Steve stepped through. You cleared your throat and glanced back at your phone. He only had the towel around his waist. You crossed your legs and scrolled through your timeline.

“Forgot my clothes out here,” He said. “It’s been such a long day, it’s all slipping my mind.”

“No worries,” You kept your eyes on your phone as he gathered up a bundle from his bag and fled back to the bathroom.

You blinked and finally lifted your head. Your phone buzzed and you looked down. ‘You got me all worked up.’ Sam included an eggplant at the end and you quickly swept away the bubble. Steve emerged in a pair of track pants and an A shirt that did little to conceal his muscular torso as the fabric was stretched taut.

He shoved his dirty gear in his bag and fished around for his own phone. He neared the other side of the mattress and gave a doubtful look at the space beside you.

“Um, sorry if it’s a bit cramped.” He lowered himself carefully. “You know, about seventy-odd years ago, you wouldn’t even have noticed me.”

You chuckled and shimmied over to give him more space as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“It’s fine. Sam’s a bed hog. I’m used to it.” You assured him.

“Oh, yeah, I learned that once.” Steve scoffed. “This place in Germany. A lot like this one. He’s not very accommodating.”

“No, not when it comes to sleep,” You muttered.

“Chatterbox,” Steve remarked as he unlocked his phone. “As is Bucky today… uncharacteristically.”

Your own phone buzzed as Steve opened up his messages. You lifted your own screen and cautiously swiped up. ‘How long til he’s asleep? I’m so hard it hurts.’ Sam’s message had you framing the phone with your hand in shame.

‘Don’t get me worked up,’ You warned as you shifted beside Steve.

‘I was just looking at those photos you sent on Valentines. I can’t help myself.’

‘Stop :/’

‘You know I can’t. That little outfit was too much. Tell me you still have it.’

‘He’s going to see. Stop.’

You coughed and flipped your phone as you sensed movement along your peripheral. You peeked over at Steve but he just stared at his phone as he typed with his thumbs slowly. Maybe you were overly paranoid. You looked at your screen again.

‘You look just as good without it.’ Sam’s text made your stomach knot.

‘You never seemed too picky :P’

‘I bet you look just as good now. What are you wearing, baby?’

You wanted to laugh at him. You weren’t exactly dressed to the nines. ‘Sweats and a tank. Very sexy.’

‘Oo u know I love ur ass in sweats’.

‘Haha, sure’.

You heard a growl from beside you and quickly lowered your phone. You looked at Steve as he shook his head at his own cell.

“Sorry, Bucky’s just… being Bucky.” He blackened his phone and sat up. He tucked it under his pillow and yawned. “I think I’m just going to sleep. I’ve been on the road all day.”

“Sure,” You said. “I’ll get the light.”

“You don’t have to sleep yet.” He slid down onto his back. “I don’t mind.”

“Nah, I’m pretty tired myself.” You said.

You left your phone on the mattress as you stood and pulled the string of the hanging bulb. The space went black and you carefully toed your way back to the bed. As you got onto the mattress you nearly landed on Steve and apologized as you righted yourself. You fished out your phone as you laid atop the covers.

“Night,” You said as you held your phone to your stomach.

“Night,” He echoed.

You rolled onto your side, your back to him, and dimmed your screen. You unlocked your phone again. ‘When you get home, I’m taking you to dinner and you’re not wearing panties.’

‘Ur so bad.’

‘Not as bad as you, baby’.

'You really gotta stop. I need sleep.'

'I'll leave you alone if you send me something to tide me over ;)'

'Steve is right here'.

'When he's asleep. Trust me, he's out like a light after dark.'

'I'll try… no promises.'

You hid your phone and listened. Steve barely moved and you could only hear his breath as it slowed to a steady lull.

You rolled onto your back an glanced over at him. His eyes were closed and no tension marred his face. You bit the tip of your tongue and sat up.

You kept watch over him as you opened your camera. You turned on your flash and flipped it around. You had one shot in the dark. You pulled down your tank top, goosebumps as the fear of getting caught tickled your skin. You lined up your finger and clicked as you gave as coy a look as you could manage.

Flash, snap, you quickly laid back down and pulled up your shirt. You were on your side as you checked the pic. Not bad… you sent it and held in a giggle. Your phone buzzed not long after.

'Oh baby that will def get me thru the nite'. You sent a heart and a kissy emoji in reply and told him you had to go to sleep.

He returned the sentiment and you set your phone on the floor, content to wait until your homecoming for a release of the heat pooling in your core.

You closed your eyes and yawned. You really were tired.

💤

Steve sighed. She was asleep. He could tell as her heart slowed and her breaths evened out. He had fought to keep still until she did; as she had continued her texting, and even as she had chanced to take that naughty photo. And right beside him!

It was hard to keep his cool as he laid next to her. As she got out of the shower, he’d chanced to look up and see her through the crack of the door before she wrapped herself in a towel. And then he had barely been able to keep his eyes on her face as her nipples stuck out beneath the cotton of her tank.

And next to her. Her warmth seeping into him. He could sense her nerves as Sam goaded her through her phone. As she did a poor job at hiding her screen and he pretended to be distracted by her own. She had completely missed that he’d open the tracking app with the little dot that blipped right over them. The very one that told her where she was at all times.

It’s how he found her all alone in the safe house. Convenient that it was so small but he had a plan either way. He’d been fantasizing about this very moment for months. Close to a year. Every time he saw her it got harder to act normal. Often he just shut down and went quiet. And seeing her with Sam…

His hand was on the waist of his track pants, fingertips picking at the elastic. He’d been hard all night, at this point, throbbing. He flinched as his hand brushed his erection through his pants. He let out a strained breath through his teeth and shivered.

He peeked over at her. In her sleep, she’d turned on her side to face him. She looked peaceful and yet a shadow of that naughty grin she’d given to her phone remained. Steve began to rub himself through the thin crotch of his track pants. He groaned. Looking at her, it felt even better. Her airy snores, just a hiss between her pouted lips, kept time as he stoked himself.

His other hand grasped hers. What was he doing? He dragged her hand from where it laid bent before her chest and he pushed it down until it was next to his. He slid it beneath and held it to his hard dick as it twitched. He swallowed a grunt as he used her palm to pleasure himself.

She murmured and he let go of her. Her hand fell between them but she didn’t wake. She fell onto her back and brought her arm up over her head, her elbow barely missing his temple. She grumbled and her breaths petered out once more. He watched her for a moment and admired the way her tank top had been pulled askew and her sweats had rolled lower on her hips.

He couldn’t help but trace the elastic with his fingers, grazing the skin bared just above. She didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t make a noise. He pushed beneath her pants, just a little. He felt the smooth skin of her pelvis as he watched her face. Her eyes didn’t flutter open and she didn’t stir to stop him. He tickled the trimmed hair further down and he let out a long shaky breath.

He traced the line of her cunt and carefully dipped his finger between her folds. She was wet despite her unconsciousness. His fingertip slid over her clit and she let out a moan that ended in a nasally snore. He watched her cheek twitch but she still didn’t wake. He pressed another finger down and flicked down and back up. He dragged his fingers along until she began to slicken.

He withdrew his hand and kept his eyes on her. She pushed her arm down over her face and arched her back as she stretched, a sleep grumble as she wiggled beside him. He brushed his fingers along his lips and tasted her. He looked her over and felt the deep pain of his arousal. It was more than that, it was an insatiable and overwhelming need.

He sat up, careful no to jostle her. His hand crawled down her thigh and he sidled over as he inched her legs apart. He lifted himself onto his knees and turned to climb between hers. He stopped as he knelt above her and she still was completely unaware.

He waited a moment before he grasped the waist of her sweats. His hands slipped around and he eased them past her ass as he lifted her. She was putty in his hands. Dead weight as her chest rose and fell without disturbance.

He rolled her pants down a little more. And more. And more. He stared at the soft outlines of her nudity as he bared her and drew her pants down her legs. He backed off the mattress and untangled her feet. He got back between her knees and ran his palms along her naked legs. Goosebumps rose at his touch and she moaned but her arm remained over her eyes and she only muttered between snores.

He paused and leaned over his side of the mattress. He grabbed his phone from under his pillow and quickly swiped it open. He clicked on the camera and turned the flash on. He grasped the top of the tank top and pulled until the straps slid down her arms and her chest came free. He snapped a picture, then another with his hand on her tit. Then he bent to take her nipple in his mouth and suckled until his cock was sore.

He pulled back and looked over her as he set his phone aside. His little doll.

Steve slid his hands down onto the mattress and bent over her. His nose grazed her tuft of hair and he inhaled her scent. He hummed in delight. He nuzzled her closer and poked his tongue out along her folds. He delved deeper and teased her clit and a sharp breath had him frozen. He glanced up but she was still asleep.

He flicked his tongue and she squeaked again. He loved that sound. He remembered that sound, dreamt of it since he’d first heard. Her and Sam never seemed to have much shame or perhaps it was a lack of awareness. That day in the training room when they thought they were alone; when they didn’t know he was just outside the door, kept from his own workout as they wrestled on the mats.

He brought his hand up to feel along her entrance. He poked a finger inside her and felt how tight she was. He added another finger and imagined her around his cock as he had a hundred times before. He lapped at her hungrily and curled his fingers inside her. Her walls constricted as her orgasm built and he guided her through it. He felt it and heard the stifled pattern of her breath as she crested the peak.

He slowed and peeked up at her. He withdrew his hand and reluctantly parted as he sat up. Her arm had slipped from her face and bent around her pillow. He could hear her heartbeat as it raced and yet she was asleep still. How could she not have woken?

Steve gripped the top of his pants. He looked down at his hands as if they weren't his own. He rose and stepped out of his track pants and swiped his shirt over his head. His hands glossed over his hot torso and his chest threatened to burst as every sense was magnified. He needed her. He could have her. Like this.

He bent and took his phone again. He switched to record and the flash bloomed to life. He angled the lens over every inch of her as he watched the screen. He backed up and went to the counter. He propped his phone up against the side of the bag, adjusting it until it focused on the mattress. He wanted to remember it even if she didn’t.

His fingers wrapped around his cock and he stroked himself and neared the bed. He groaned and lowered himself before her. He bent her legs around him as he bent over her. He slid his arm beneath her head and it lolled into the crook of his elbow. He pressed his tip to her folds and slickened himself with her arousal.

He prodded at her entrance and held his breath. He watched her face in the dark as he pushed into her. She stretched around his tip and her breath rushed along his thick bicep. He went deeper, unable to stop as her warmth beckoned to him. He was halfway in and felt as if he couldn’t go any further. She was so tight and yet he had too. He wanted all of her.

He held his breath and thrust to his limit. She gasped and her head turned suddenly as her eyes snapped open. The shock in her face was startling and somehow intoxicating. She blinked as she mumbled in confusion and she brought her hands up against his chest as she tried to shove him off. He jerked his hips and she cried out.

“S-Steve…” She gulped as she felt his thick muscles helplessly. “What are you--”

He pulled back and thrust into her again. Her legs tensed against him and her body arched beneath him. He hushed her and smothered her lips with his. She tried to pull away but she was trapped under his weight; in his strength. He liked the way she writhed, the way her tongue tried to force his out, the way her nails dug into the skin of his chest, the frantic noises that he swallowed up.

💤

You were so full it hurt. Your heart beat faster than ever as your eyes searched the dark. All you could see was the shadow of the man atop you, feel his sheer strength as he cradled your head with his thick arm and moved his body atop yours. You clawed at his chest as you squeezed him with your thighs, trying to get him off of you but only seeming to draw him deeper.

You pushed your head to the side as you finally tore your lips from his and gulped at the air. His motion built steadily as his groans seeped into you and made your stomach turn.

At first, you hadn’t known where you were. It took a moment to recall the safe house and the mission that had led you there. Another to remember Steve’s unexpected arrival and your hasty texts before you resigned to sleep. And another to realise what he was doing to you. To realise that while you were terrified, it felt good. To battle with yourself and your weak body.

“Steve…” You rasped as his wet lips crushed against your cheek and his hips moved steadily against you. “Stop. What are you-- Sam…” You could barely form a thought, let alone speak. “Please--”

“I couldn’t wait any longer.” He growled as he sped up. “You’re so good. So tight.”

“Steve--”

“Mmm, say it again.” His other hand gripped your hip as he tilted into you. “I love my name in your mouth.”

“No, no, no,” You murmured. “Why--”

He impaled you sharply and your voice fizzled in your throat. He rested his weight on you as he sank into you completely and held himself there. Carefully he rolled onto his side and took you with him. He hooked your leg around his side as your other was trapped under him. His arms wrapped around you as he rocked into you.

He grabbed your leg and bent it even higher, straining your muscles as he crashed into you harder and deeper. You beat on his shoulder and threw your head back as you tried to resist the swelling in your core.

“It’s okay,” He purred. “You can cum for me.”

“St-e-ve,” You stuttered and grasped his shoulder. “Why--”

“Can I cum in you?” He asked as he grabbed your head and made you look at him. A light shone from behind him. You hadn’t noticed that before. “I gotta-- I’m gonna fill you up.”

“No, no…” You pushed helplessly. He wasn’t wearing a condom, you could tell. The thought made you sick. “You can’t--”

“I can’t--” He rolled you onto your back once more.

He pinned your hips down with his large hands as he raised himself on his needs and rutted into you without restraint. You felt as if your pelvis would snap as his grunts filled the small house. You clung to the pillows around your head and your body constricted in an unexpected and unwanted climax.

��That-- It--” He snarled as his motion turned relentless. “I’m-- gonna-- ugh…”

His voice trailed off and his hips snapped harshly against you as he came. You felt his heat as it coated your walls and he eased himself still as he lowered his body back down to yours. He pecked your lips and you turned your head away.

“Why…” Your voice crackled.

He hummed and nuzzled your cheek. “That was good, wasn’t it?”

“Get off of me,” You sneered. “Steve,” You slapped him and he recoiled. “Off!”

He grunted and pulled out of you as he pushed himself onto his knees. His cum leaked from your cunt as you sat up and he got to his feet. Your entire body tingled and you were shaking. You stood, your legs wobbly, and Steve’s shadow blotted out the bright light the beamed across the space.

“What is that?” You asked as you reached between your legs to wipe the cum smeared on your thighs.

“A keepsake.” The flash on his phone suddenly went out as he tapped the screen. “To look back on.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stomped towards him and reached for his phone. “How could you--”

“Don’t worry,” He held the phone above him. “Sam will never know… unless I want him too.”

“No…” You stared up at his face shrouded in darkness. “How…”

You blinked as tears rose and a hollow chill swept through you. You spun away from him and stumbled to the bathroom. You slammed the door as a sob caught in your throat. The damn thing would stay shut. You punched it as you swallowed back your tears.

You flipped on the light and pushed yourself away from the door and it creaked. You turned the sink on, the cold water numbing as you tried to wash away his cum from your cunt. When you finished, you let the tap run and looked into the mirror. You didn’t look like yourself. You didn’t feel like yourself.

And Steve, he couldn’t have been himself.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader smut #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #somniphilia #one shot #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #mcu #marvel #captain america

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mggssocks · 3 years ago

Text

Followed

Not My Gif!

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Content Warnings: None just fluff :)

Summary: Spencer makes an Instagram and stumbles across reader’s page.

Word Count: 1,899 words

A/N: This is Season 10 Spencer with Season 13 looks. Also, instead of it being Kate on the team, i put Emily instead because who doesn’t love the season 3-7 team? Also I might make a part 2 depending on how much this blows up. Honestly i’d be happy if i got one like. Anyways.. hope you enjoy!!!

masterlist // part 2 // part 3

It was 8:00 in the morning. Spencer walked in the doors of the bullpen to the bau. He sat his satchel down and began to settle in for a long day of work. It was pretty early so the team wasn’t in yet. Except for Aaron Hotchner who had gotten in an hour prior to Spencer and been in his office ever since. Apparently others had the same ‘get to work early’ mindset as Spencer. Spencer opened a case file but his attention was quickly whipped away due to the sound of the door opening. He sees Penelope Garcia with all her attention focused on her phone. Spencer quirked his eyebrows when she bumped into a fellow coworker and her attention remained on her phone while quickly mumbling a quick “sorry”. As she passed his desk, Spencer decided it would be the great time to speak.

“Hey, Garcia.” Her feet came to a stop and her head snapped up at him.

“Boy wonder! I’m so glad you’re here. I really need someone to talk to because if I don’t I’m going to explode!” She sits in the chair across from his desk.

“Is everything alright?” He leaned back in his chair.

“No… no everything is not alright. If anything.. everything is all wrong. Very very wrong. I-“ she takes in a deep breath “I was stalking Kevin’s page because the other day I seen him at the mall with another girl. And while I was 56 weeks down in his page, I accidentally liked a picture.” She explained, in a huff.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.” Spencer was even more confused now than before she started.

“I liked a picture that he posted 56 weeks ago!” Her eyes were wide.

“How is that a bad thing?” His lips pouted as he’d never understand social media.

“Ugh! Reid, you really need to get with the program and get you an Instagram. That means his picture was old and now he knows that I was looking at his page. You understand now?” She asked.

“Oh. Yeah I understand. It’s bad that he knows you were looking at his page.” He asked as Prentiss, JJ, and Morgan had walked in.

“Yes. And now I must go into the bat cave and wait for him to call or text me and ask what me lurking on his page was about.” She whined as she stomped her way to her office.

“What was that about?” Prentiss asked, setting her bags down on her desk.

“Uhh- rough morning” Spencer shrugged, still not really understanding the whole social media thing.

“Hey do you guys have an Instagram?” He asked the three.

“Yeah but I’m barely on it.” Prentiss answered.

“Same here” says Morgan as he takes a seat at his desk.

“Yeah but I only get on to post the boys and myself sometimes” answers JJ.

“What about Hotch and Rossi?” He asked.

“Yup! Rossi likes to post about his expensive wine and cigars. Hotch posts Jack every once in a while and a throwback Thursday.” JJ says.

Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed for what seems to be the 100th time that day.

“He doesn’t know what that is” Prentiss looks over to JJ.

“It’s something you post like an old picture of yourself every Thursday.” Morgan explains.

“Do you guys do that?” Spencer asked.

“I did last Thursday.” JJ pulls out her phone and opened the app. “This was right after Emily, Penelope, and I caught a guy who was trying to pick up Prentiss by pretending to be an FBI agent a few years ago.” She chuckled showing him a picture.

Spencer takes her phone in his hand and examines the post. 142 likes. 57 comments. He clicks on her name which takes it to her page. 302 followers. As he scrolls, he sees a picture the team took a while ago and sees a little person profile thing the corner and clicks on it causing other names tagged to each individual team member. Except him. After he examined all of their profiles, he gives JJ back her phone and gets to work like the rest of them. He felt a little left out but he knew it was because of his own decisions and not his team. He liked that they didn’t press him about having a social media because they new he was more old school than anything. And it was ironic because he wastage youngest member of the team with the more old school habits.

When Spencer got home he decided he wanted the social media app. The idea of being able to share with his friends and only his friends excited him. Being able to post about his favorite things for his friends to see without talking their ears off.

He opened his phone and went to the app store, typing “instagram” into the search bar. He followed the sites instructions as he made his account. Using a snapshot he took of his bookshelf as his profile picture. He sees the option to add the people in his contact list which was only his team, mom, and his mother’s caretaker. But everyone’s profile popped up and he quickly followed each and every one of them. Except for his mom and her caretaker of course.

Soon enough, he got a follow back from Garcia, Hotch, Rossi, and JJ in that order. Morgan and Prentiss weren’t lying when they said they weren’t on often.

After two weeks, Spencer hasn’t posted anything yet, not knowing what should go on his profile. Morgan and Prentiss ended up following him back and the app ended up adjusting to his interests. Nothing but accounts about interesting facts, books, and doctor who.

It was Friday night and the team had just got back from a case in Chicago. Spencer opened the door to his apartment and set his satchel down on the couch, exhausted. His mind wonders to get something to eat being that he wonders to get something to eat being that he hasn’t ate since before they caught the unsub. Which was about 5 hours and 7 minutes ago but he still needed to get something into his system. Spencer opened his fridge and sees 3 day old Chinese takeout. He shrugs and pops it into the microwave while looking for a book of his to reread while he eats. After he finishes dinner, he gets on his phone and subconsciously pulls up the app. He clicks onto his explore page to discover something else he likes. While scrolling, he sees a picture of someone reading and clicks on it.

765 likes

Yourfriend’sig whenever people ask me what to give you for your birthday or Christmas, I always tell them to get you a book or something green and it works every single time. Happy Birthday to my best buddy, @yourinstagram !

View all 84 comments

Spencer smiles and clicks the heart button and bookmarks it to look at later. He liked the picture. Both the picture and caption reminded him a lot of his own love for books and the color green (hence his apartment).

Once he got out of the shower, he brushed his teeth. He found himself subconsciously scrolling through his instagram bookmarks to find her post. He doesn’t know what it was but something about the picture brought comfort to him. As he brushed his teeth, he clicked on the post once again.This time, he actually clicked on your account. It was a private account with 186 followers. The bio read:

Y/N... bookworm.

Her profile picture consisted of a black cat surrounded by either a bunch of well taken care of plants or artificial ones. His finger hovered over the blue “follow” button. As he bent down to spit his toothpaste out, his thumb accidentally clicked the follow button. But he didn't realize so until he looked down again to see the “follow” button replaced with “requested”. His heart basically drops out of his ass. He quickly clicks the button again, taking back his follow.

It was now one in the morning, Spencer laid in bed awake staring at his ceiling. Once again, he clicks onto the app. He scrolled down his timeline and saw a picture Penelope posted of one of her new desk animals with the caption “Got her at a thrift shop! Isn’t she cute??”. He saw that Hotch and JJ liked 45 other people. JJ also commented with two red hearts. Spencer likes the post and keeps scrolling. His thoughts wander to the post about the girl again. He’s never thought about a social media post this much since he’s created an account. He wonders what sparked his interest so much about this one. As he makes his way to the post, clicking on her account. Debating if he should follow her. She’s a total stranger. Do the others follow strangers? There’s no way JJ knows 302 people in real life. He mentally shrugs and presses the follow button. Requested. Again.

He swipes out of her account back onto the post now seeing that she commented on it.

yourinstagram thank you, bubs! ily to the moon n back <3333

It was commented thirty six seconds ago. Meaning she’s currently active. Again, Spencer’s heart sinks and he immediately regrets his decision. Going back and unfollowing her. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s a mess. Over a stranger. But he feels like an idiot. Reacting the way that he did just because he saw that she was online. So he goes and follows her.... again.

After clearing out all of his apps, he turns off his phone and lays down trying to get some sleep before work in a few hours. His thoughts wander to her. What she was like. if she was nice or mean. If she was socially awkward or very outgoing. Before his thoughts could get too far into what she was like, he receives a notification from instagram. He opens his phone and clicks on the notification. His heart began to pound when he saw it.

yourinstagram would like to send you a message!

He clicks on it.

yourinstagram You’ve followed and unfollowed me about 5 times in the past 3 hours. Is there something I can help you with?

Spencer completely forgot that other people got notifications and now he felt like some kind of creep.

spencerreid I’m sorry. I came across your friend’s Instagram post wishing you a happy birthday and i guess i got curious and wanted to follow you if that makes any sense.

He felt so dumb.

yourinstagram and following me once wasn’t enough for some reason???

spencerreid Sorry about that. I’m new to this whole social media thing and don’t follow any strangers. You are the first person I’m following that I don’t know in real life. Again, my apologies for the disturbance. I’ll unfollow you’re account If you’re uncomfortable with me.

yourinstagram i just hope that you’re not one of my raging exes, someone trying to catfish me, or a psychopath lol.

Spencer smiled.

spencerreid Nope. Just me.

She leaves him one read. Spencer’s smile fades when he doesn’t see any three loading dots. She wasn’t texting him back. As he’s about to exit the app, he sees two notifications.

yourinstagram has accepted your follow request!

yourinstagram has requested to follow you.

********

I hoped you like this!!! If this blows up,i will do another chapter!

#spencer reid #dr reid #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #matt simmons #david rossi #cm #emily prentiss #jennifer jereau #penelope gracia #luke alvez #tara lewis #elle greenaway #spencer reid x you #cat adams

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theji · 3 years ago

Text

Things Yizhan Made Me Do

It's BXG Day today! 🐢💛

To commemorate the occasion, I thought of making a list of 13 out-of-character things that I've done since falling into the fandom. (OK I'm a bit late I meant to do this sooner, the day is ending soon in a couple of hours).

1. Start a blog

And a public one, no less. I had a blog when I was in my teens but that was private, like a personal diary. My day job already involves writing so off-work I would usually like to indulge in mindless activities. Now, here I am, maintaining a Yizhan blog. I have not even used Tumblr prior to this but I'm enjoying it now, rambling about our fav boys. Writing is not a chore if it's about them.

2. Join a fandom

I joined a boy band fan club once upon a time, some 15 years ago, but I was never as invested in it as I am now with Yizhan. Back then it was just buying some merch, attending their concert/autograph sessions, listening to their songs. Apart from work, dog mum duties, personal relationships, other hobbies like kombucha brewing, most of my free time is now spent on the fandom. My Netflix account is crying. There is just so much to do and catch up on (I'm not complaining). I also enjoy interacting with and learning from other bloggers here. Antis are no fun and some industry news/developments/hate messages are upsetting but ultimately, you curate your own fandom experience. And I choose positivity and rationality.

3. Indulge in RPS

I don't ever 'ship'. What is 'ship'? 😆 I was always a dutiful audience, just enjoying whatever drama series and moving on after that. I started with CQL like most people and I didn't even notice/like GGDD until much later. Didn't even set out to 'ship' anyone but now I'm a self-professed turtle. SZD is SZD, and anyone can see something special between them if you keep an open mind. I wrote about my SZD reasons here previously. That said, GG & DD are individuals, each with their own successful careers. They come first, the ship comes second. That I'm very clear of.

4. Use Chinese apps

Gosh, my phone and tablet are now full of Chinese apps. I used to have only WeChat cos I needed it for work but now I have Weibo, Oasis, Douyin, WeTV, MangoTV, Youku, etc. Some of them are not even available in the app store so I had to find alternative sources to download them. haha..I even have paid membership for some of these apps. And now, browsing Weibo daily becomes a routine. If you wish, you can just get stuck browsing Weibo for a long long time. It's entertaining.

5. Read fan fic

I only started about 6 months ago but now I'm hooked and fics are largely the only thing I read these days, apart from news. But I only read Yizhan or WangXian fics (p.s. calling for fic recs of other pairings!) I know some might have different feelings about fan fics but to me, I really just see them as fiction, with characters (and sometimes traits) bearing similarities to GGDD. Similarly, I separate the platform from the incident so I have no problems going to A03 despite GG's incident. I just enjoy seeing the characters named XZ/WYB having happy endings in many different timelines and universes. While most of the fics I read are explicit (by design), I don't use them as tools to play out certain fantasies or to think of GGDD in a sexual manner. In fact, I really hate fics that have little substance and just go into the explicit parts without plot development. I like those with interesting premises too, like one I read recently where XZ is a serial killer and WYB is a police officer investigating the case but also in love with him. I do have plans to share my list of fav fan fics some time down the road so keep an eye out for it!

6. Willingly read Chinese

Yes, Chinese may be my mother tongue but I don't use it much in daily living unless I have to. I also find it tedious to read Chinese cos the characters are just so squashed together. If I have a choice, I will always pick English. But now, I read so much Chinese from my daily weibo browsing. I even read fan fics in Chinese! Who am I? On the plus side, I think my Chinese comprehension and translation skills improved. I also picked up some internet lingo used by Chinese netizens, which are pretty interesting like doi, 🐮🍺, 🖍. My all-time fav is yyds.

7. Act like a cougar

In real life, I have always maintained that younger men are childish. At least those I have encountered. But look at me now, fangirling over two younger men (I am closer in age to GG, but still..). I even jokingly call them my 'China Boyfriends'. I look at them very respectfully most of the time.

8. Buy merch

Seriously, once you start, you can't stop. At least that was what happened to me, although I'm still quite selective when it comes to supporting their endorsements. I usually go for consumables like food, cosmetics vs collectibles cos I'm more practical. Also, GG says to support their merch within reasonable means so that's what I'm doing. Just buying things that I'm interested to try and not because it has their faces or names slapped on it. In a way, this suits me cos I like trying new brands and stuff anyway.

9. Keeping a Yizhan archive

Photos, weblinks, videos, songs, fan fics list..my phone is full of these things now. I think my Yizhan photo gallery is only second to the folder with my dogs' pictures. But how can you resist when we are blessed with new pics of them almost every week?

10. Camp for livestreams

I'm lucky I live in the same time zone as the boys so I don't have to wake up in the wee hours of the morning just to watch something. But that's the thing, being in the same time zone sometimes make me feel like I HAVE to watch that thing live because, why not? Why wait? Not shy to admit that I once watched a live programme in the middle of work but I made sure I finished what needed to be done. I think so long as we don't let these livestream schedules run our lives, there's no harm in camping for them.

11. Watch c entertainment

I am one of those who used to pass over Chinese productions, simply because it's a Chinese production. Not in a scoffing manner but I'm just genuinely not interested in them nor the celebs. I was more of a US/UK production kind of person, occasionally Korean/Japanese. Now, I'm learning to enjoy them although I just watch those with GGDD in them. No energy to follow other Chinese celebs anyway. The other programme I'm contemplating watching even if it doesn't have them in it is Who's the Murderer (GG was only in one of the cases) cos I like the premise. On the flip side, now my sis and partner keep making fun of me cos to them, all I do now is "watch China shows". That is so not true. Or is it?

12. Write fan mail

I wrote a letter to GG once. A long-ass letter. I hope he read it. That's all I'm gonna say. 🙈 hahahahaha

13. Desire to visit China

China was never on my list of to-visit places. Just wasn't interested. I have been to Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou a few times in the past for work but even then, I never felt the urge to revisit for leisure. Now, I wanna visit GG and DD's home town, visit Chongqing to see the graffiti wall with Bobii Zanbii on it, eat mala hotpot and try out their sauce recipe, attend BXG events, dine at the CQL restaurant... Watching TTXS also made me realise that there are many beautiful places in China with natural landscapes and all that. I used to be clouded by my disdain for the regime and some behaviour of its citizens but now, I recognise that the country is separate from the regime or a smaller group of poorly behaved citizens. China is a beautiful country and I would love to visit some day. I will fly over immediately on my own if someone gives me tix to ADLAD!!

Well, I hope some of these things resonate with you. Feel free to share the OOC things that Yizhan made you do.

Once again, Happy BXG Day! 🐢💛🐆🐇🐷🌶🦁🍑🐶🍍🛹🎋

#yizhan #bjyx #things yizhan made me do

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blueskrugs · 4 years ago

Text

White Horse | Pierre-Luc Dubois

so, it turns out it’s really weird to write a fic for a player that had been traded but also hadn’t played a game with his new team yet... I did my best but timelines and teammates are nonexistent, so try not to look too closely. there’s really nothing to this except for angst. I’m sorry. and as usual, thanks to @broadstbroskis for being my beta!

tagging: @marcostandella @stlbluesbrat @dembenchboys @poltoncarayko @robthomissed @letmeplaytheblues @troubatrain @himbos-on-ice @tkafuckit @ayohockeycheck

length: 1.5k words

Say you’re sorry, that face of an angel comes out just when you need it to

You loved Pierre-Luc Dubois, and you’d thought he loved you, too, once. It had been easy to think that, but you knew better now.

This real-life, the happy ending doesn’t always come with the perfect guy. There are no knights in shining armor, no cute hockey players in pads, either.

It ended before Luc really ended it. It wasn’t a surprise. You saw it coming, but it was like everything was moving in slow motion, the way time moves differently when disaster strikes. You were powerless to stop it as everything came crashing to a stop around you, until you were left alone to pick up the pieces of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” PL had said, sitting on your couch, and you almost believed him. Wanted to believe him, even. He was all earnest blue eyes and messy hair that you’d fallen in love with.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? You’d fallen in love, and he hadn’t. PL was still talking, excuses, reasons, why your relationship just wasn’t working, but you weren’t really listening. You knew them all already, had spent nights thinking of them all yourself. You didn’t need to hear them again.

You wanted to ask, wanted to scream, something, anything, other than the cool detached way PL was sitting on the opposite side of your couch. Had there ever been a chance? Was there ever a happy ending in there for you? Did he care at all? But it was quiet in your apartment, the steady voice of PL and the hum of your fridge filling the space. This wasn’t a relationship that was meant to end in slamming doors and shouting matches.

You expected it to hurt worse. You dug out all of Luc’s things that were scattered around your apartment, deleted pictures of him from your Instagram, but there were no tears. Even the best memories just brought a sad smile to your face. There was just a hollowness in your chest, a feeling like there was something missing. And you could handle it, you’d get over it in time, but right now you missed the Snapchats you got of PL’s dogs each morning.

I was a dreamer before you went and let me down Now it’s too late for you and your white horse to come around

“Luc!” you shrieked, trying to dodge your boyfriend’s arms. It was the first snow of the season in Columbus, and PL had dragged you out of your warm, cozy apartment to go play in the fresh powder.

It had been cute and peaceful for a while, picturesque, even if your nose was frozen, as the snow continued to fall softly around you. At least, it was, until PL got bored and decided he would have more fun trying to chase you around in the snow.

You ducked down and scooped up a handful of snow, packing it into a semblance of a snowball before turning around and throwing it in Luc’s face. He froze, arms still outstretched, inches away from grabbing you.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” he said.

You laughed, turning to run again. The only problem was that the snow came up well past your shins, and running through fresh powder in clunky snow boots wasn’t exactly easy. PL caught up to you easily, looping his arms around your waist.

You yelled out, but Luc was stronger and faster than you. He held on tight as you flailed, but you were both off-balance and then you were falling. PL twisted so you landed on top of him in a heap of tangled limbs, his arms still firmly around your waist.

“Oof.” He sent up a puff of snow as his back hit the ground. His hat was crooked now, only covering one ear. He grinned up at you, teeth sharp against his lower lip, and you had to lean down to kiss him. “What was that for?” he asked.

“Because I can,” you said. Because I love you, you didn’t say.

It was too early for that. It was true, though; you were falling for Pierre-Luc, only you weren’t sure there would be a pile of freshly fallen snow to collapse into at the end of it all.

It rained a lot that first week, which seemed fitting. The world was grey and foreboding, and you were trying to relearn how to be alone. You deleted the NHL app from your phone to keep yourself from checking the scores. You tried to tell yourself you didn't care.

You still cared, anyway.

Maybe I was naive, got lost in your eyes and never really had a chance My mistake, I didn’t know to be in love you had to fight to have the upper hand

It was easy, so easy, in the beginning. PL cared about what you had to say, loved to listen to you talk– about work, about your family, about anything. He’d watch you with a little smile, and you knew you never stood a chance against that look. You lived for the way PL’s face lit up when he saw you waiting for him in his jersey after games.

But there would always be another girl waiting to wear his jersey.

You almost didn’t notice when things started changing. Cutting you off, talking over you. Going out after games instead of going home with you. But he still texted you “good morning” every day, and you could convince yourself that everything was fine.

Sometimes Luc’s smile still seemed real when it was directed at you, and other times you told yourself he could still love you if you just tried harder.

I had so many dreams, about you and me Happy endings, now I know...

You talked about the future, sometimes. A dog, an apartment. Next season, next year. All your dreams were exactly that: dreams. You were happy, and you let yourself imagine what could happen, as you lay tucked into Luc’s side on the couch.

There might’ve been a white dress in there, somewhere, a summer wedding.

You wouldn’t get that with PL, you knew that now. You still let yourself dream.

Beggin’ for forgiveness, beggin’ for me But I’m so sorry...

You were surprised by the knock on your door at the beginning of the season, even more surprised to find Pierre-Luc on the other side. You should’ve just closed the door, but you didn’t. “Hey,” he said. His hair was longer, curlier, than when you’d seen him last. He was still cute, you thought with a pang.

You didn’t respond, just crossed your arms and raised your eyebrows at him. He had broken up with you, or had he forgotten?

“I, uh-” he paused, rubbed a hand nervously across the back of his neck. “How was your summer?” he asked instead.

You knew the truth now, had spent one reckless night searching your ex-boyfriend’s name and digging through all corners of the internet until the sun came up. There had been another girl, other girls, maybe. It had been near the end, when you’d already reached the point of no return, when you’d given up hope.

It had made you feel better, in a strange way. Maybe it hadn’t been your fault after all. No amount of trying or loving was going to keep PL by your side.

“It was good,” you said carefully. You’d gotten that dog you’d talked about, and she was nudging your hand where you stood in the doorway, wondering what you were doing. Luc smiled at her as she poked her nose out in the hallway.

“That’s great,” PL said absently. “Do you mind if I come in? I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You hesitated. Isn’t this what you had wanted? For PL to realize that the mistake hadn’t been your relationship, but everything else? Maybe you had wanted that– while you were still together, when you left you alone on the couch– but you didn’t need that anymore.

“I think we’re fine out here,” you said.

PL’s face, already guarded, closed off. You wanted to make him smile, but that wasn’t your responsibility anymore.

“Oh.” His eyes met yours. Blue, honest, familiar. “I miss you,” he admitted.

You forced out a laugh to keep the tears from falling. “I miss you, too,” you told him, and you saw hope flash across his face for a moment. “But I don’t love you anymore.”

You didn’t see what PL’s face did next because you closed the door.

You’d always loved Columbus. Maybe that had been the problem, you thought, when you saw the news about the trade. You loved it, were happy there. Maybe your dreams hadn’t been big enough for Pierre-Luc. He’d always wanted more, bigger and better, and he deserved it. You’d still be around, waiting for your next dream, that perfect guy who wanted you, loved you. Let Luc have the world. You were happy right where you were.

#cait writes things #the swift series #pierre luc dubois #pierre luc dubois fic #pierre luc dubois imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

Text

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”.

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing. word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie: y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!”

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

queen rly went from 🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing.

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.”

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall.

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets.

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout.

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

#corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #myso #make you say oh #imagine #imagines

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