#I feel like I’ve been in this funk ever since I moved

[rosicheeks]

*hops back in bed*

[thecuriousquest]

Could u do a erasermic fic where the reader hates them as they kidnapped her and she constantly tells them that she does. Like she even stopped eating because of her stress. And then one day something happens and she warms up to them. Thank you!

The Grace Period

Yandere EraserMic x Fem!Reader

Tag List: @issamomma

Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, kidnapping, blood, mentions of spanking, mouth washing with soap, Aizawa’s a hard ass, hair pulling in a platonic way

Checkout my Master List here.

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Mic drags you into the living room by your ear. Aizawa quirks his brow, wondering what you could have done this time. He sets his coffee mug down on the table in front of him and sits back.

“What happened?” The Eraser Hero asks.

“I found her trying to chip at the window again. Look at her fingers! They’re all bloody again.”

Your lip curls as you glare at them. Rage pours into your words. “Maybe if you would just let me go-”

Hizashi isn’t gracious enough to let you finish that sentence. He grabs you by the jaw and squeezes hard enough to leave bruises.

“I’ve heard enough out of you for the rest of the day. We are not letting you go! Is that understood?”

“I hate you! I hate you both so much, you fucking assholes!”

Shouta stands up and walks over to you. He grabs you by your hair, pulling you from Mic’s grip.

“Ah, fuck! Let go of me, you son of a bitch!” you cry out in pain.

He drags you over to the sink in the kitchen. The pro hero turns on the faucet, getting a used bar of soap wet.

You know what’s about to happen next, so you clamp your mouth shut. He knows how to combat this move, and he pinches your nose until you gasp for air. Once your lips part far enough, he shoves the soap into your mouth, washing all of the nasty words from it.

The taste is worse than you could ever imagine. It’s bitter and clean, a tang of funk bubbling on your tongue. He scrubs every inch of the cavern, making sure to cleanse your cheeks, teeth, and roof. Nothing is left unwashed.

Every time you try to pull away from him, you’re forced back over the sink by a strong pull on your locks.

Fuck, he’s going to rip it out with how harsh his grip is.

It’s not fair to be in this position. It’s not fair that you can’t sleep or eat because of how much stress you’re under. It’s not fair that they make you cuddle with them at night!

You gag on the soap, droplets leaking from your eyes, snot dripping from your nose. To you, he’s been going at this for at least an hour. In reality, it’s only been a few minutes.

Finally, the soap drops into the sink, and the grip on your hair is released. Shouta kindly allows you to rinse your mouth out.

“Be grateful I’m not sending you to bed with those suds in your mouth. Rinse up and go apologize to Zashi,” he says as he refers to his partner’s nickname.

You want to tell him to fuck off. You want to tell him that he’s a crazy bastard and that you have nothing to apologize for. However, one glance at the soap in the sink forces you to bite your tongue. You gladly rinse away the awful bubbles in your mouth, but you find that as you try rid your mouth of them with water, the bubbles only multiply. It takes a while before you feel like all of the suds are gone, but the bitter taste continues to linger like a ghost.

Walking out of the kitchen to go find the Voice Hero, you miss Shouta shaking his head as he watches you leave.

———

Weeks have passed since the soap incident. It weighs heavily on your chest. As you sit in the garden, you can’t stop thinking about the spanking you also received later that night from both pros when you decided you weren’t going to eat another dinner. It’s the first one they have ever given you, and you’re sure it won’t be the last one since they are so good at finding things to punish you over.

The only reason you’re allowed outside on your own is because of the security measures they have which is a shock collar and an invisible fence line.

“Be happy we only put this on you when you’re outside,” Shouta told you as you sulked while he fastened the latch around your neck.

The property seems endless as it is so secluded from any neighbors. However, you know that your ability to roam isn’t limitless. You remember that very well from the last time you tried to find the fence’s edge. You had almost pissed yourself from the gut wrenching shock it gave you.

So, here you are, sitting on a bench, enjoying your thirty minutes of free time. They seem to believe that it’s good for all of you to have something to do by yourself during the day. Hizashi has his podcast, Shouta has his books, and you have the garden.

Something catches the corner of your eye. A slight movement. If you weren’t looking that way, you definitely would have missed it.

A puppy has wondered into the backyard. It doesn’t surprise you. All types of animals come back here because the area is so isolated. It’s peaceful, a sanctuary from the bustling city.

You notice something off about the puppy, though. The poor creature seems too skinny. Its back is emaciated, patches of fur missing. Also, its back leg is broken. You walk over to the black pup, picking it up and holding it in your arms. With the tiny thing staring up at you with dark brown eyes, you notice it’s a boy.

Completely unsure of what to do, you walk inside and yell for Shouta and Hizashi to come downstairs quickly.

The two race over to you as fast as they can thinking something is wrong. You’ve never yelled for them before, so it must be an emergency. They stop upon seeing you with the puppy in your arms.

“He needs help. He’s walking funny, and he’s itchy,” is all you can think of to say.

“Oh no, you put that thing back where you found him. I don’t want a dog in my house,” Shouta explains.

“Aw, come on. We’re heroes. We should save the little guy. Let’s at least take him to the vet. We can figure out what to do from there. Alright?” Hizashi attempts to argue.

Contemplating this, Aizawa crosses his arms and sighs. “Fine, he’ll go to the vet and then the pound.”

The dog was only in the pound for two days before Hizashi convinced Shouta to let them bring him home. The dog didn’t belong to anyone because nobody claimed him after the grace period.

“He needs us? Please? It might make Y/N come around if we bring him home. He’s so adorable. How could you be so heartless?!”

After relentless pestering, Shouta drives the two of you to the shelter to pickup the dog. As you get into the backseat with the puppy in your arms, you hold him like a little baby, cuddling him closely.

“Can I name him Razor?”

Huffing, Shouta tells you that you can do whatever you want.

Hizashi elbows his partner before looking over his shoulder at you. “Razor sounds like an awesome name, sweetie,” he beams at you. “Next stop, the pet store!”

Before Shouta starts up the car, you scooch forward and lean past the console that divides the raven haired man from the blonde.

“Thank you so much,” you say as you give Aizawa a kiss on the cheek before landing a peck on Hizashi’s.

———

Bonus:

Three weeks later, it makes you laugh when you see Shouta asleep on the couch with the puppy held snugly against his chest.

[laureliciousdefinition]

Two Liars | Cassian Andor x Reader

Summary: two strangers meet in a bar.

Rating: M

Tags/warnings: smut, unprotected sex, genitalia description

a/n: this took me a comically long time to write. I’ve been in such a bad writing funk recently but I did it!!! Dedicating this to my beloved @guess-my-next-obsession for always being so encouraging of my works, I would die without u<3

I’ve never written cassa before so be gentle on me! Enjoy!!!

The brightly colored liquid moved smoothly down your throat, the empty glass clinking against the bar top far too soon after you’d received it. You glanced around the dimly lit room; not much in the way of decor, a few silver couches and tables were dispersed throughout the small lounge. The rounded bar, which was emanating a white glow, was the main source of light in the space, causing most of the patrons to stick to the corners where they could hide under the cover of darkness. You, however, chose to sit right at the source, deciding the best way to stay undercover would be to stay in plain sight. You’d changed your appearance, of course- this time opting for a darker hair color, and a more intense makeup look than you’d ever wear normally. That was what all the rich women on this planet did, anyone else tended to stick out considerably. 

As you scanned the room, your eyes drew to a man sitting a few stools away. He was busying himself in his drink, pretending he hadn’t been looking at you moments before your eyes fell on him. He was undeniably handsome, from what you could see- though you couldn’t decide if he was the type to bother with. His dark clothing didn’t look particularly expensive, so you guessed that he was a traveler like yourself, just not masking it as well. Travelers were easy targets, your usual go-to, but on this planet, you knew there were much heavier pockets waiting for you elsewhere.

You looked back towards your own drink for a moment, then decided to glance back over at him. This time your eyes met, and you felt the tiniest hint of a smile pull at your lips. That was all he needed, apparently, before he stood from his chair and moved casually to the one on your left.

“Was wondering when you were gonna come over and buy me a drink.” You drew smoothly, crossing your legs, revealing more of your thigh.

His eyebrows twitched up as a shocked smile came to his face, as if he weren’t expecting you to be so blunt. You liked that. 

“Who said I was going to buy you a drink?” He retorted, putting the ball back in your court. This time it was you who raised your brows at him, used to men caving immediately when you got flirty. You liked this even more.

You gave a soft laugh before responding. “Careful now. I could just tell the barkeep that you’re harassing me and get you thrown out,” you tutted.

He inched closer to you. You willed yourself to keep your face even, a smile threatening to crack through during this cat and mouse game. It had been so long- too long- since you’d gotten to act like this. To be the flirty, mysterious stranger in a bar. Life had kept you on the run too much for this anymore. 

“No need for that. I’m just teasing.” He shifted so he was facing the bartender, raising his hand to signal the man down before he paused.  

“Can I at least get your name?” He asked. “Y’know, so I can know who I’m buying a drink for?”

You turned your torso to face him fully, taking him in completely for the first time. He was even more handsome than you’d imagined when glancing at him from the corner of your eye; tousled hair that had your fingers twitching with an urge to comb it down, rake your fingers through it, and a light beard that you could tell he’d grown to appear older. A sharp nose, resting just under the softest pair of eyes you’d ever seen. They held… something in them, though you couldn’t pinpoint what. Secrets, you decided.

“Lina.”

A lie. 

He smiled at you then, those sweet brown eyes crinkling when he did so. But the smile he gave you felt reserved, as if he were holding back what he was feeling. Sussing you out, even. You briefly wondered if he was onto you, but you kept yourself calm.

“A lovely name for a lovely woman.” He responded, and suddenly any suspicious thoughts you’d been having about the man came dangerously close to slipping from your mind as he moved closer to you in his seat, slotting his knees between yours.

You rested on your elbow as he ordered another drink for you, plus one for him. He moved with a cool confidence, the practiced kind. You guessed that he’d worked hard on it over the years, most likely as a defense mechanism. It was a classic trick, and an old one; pretend you know what you’re doing and you’ll get just about anywhere in life. It was one you loved to employ, and had been doing so for most of your life. It was how you’d sweet talked your way into this exclusive, overpriced bar. 

When he turned back to you, you spoke. “Well? I gave you my name, aren’t you going to give me yours?”

He chuckled lightly. “My apologies. You can call me Venka.”

Another lie. 

You could sense it immediately, one liar to another. There’s always a tiny bit of hesitation when someone gives a fake name, sometimes so minuscule you wouldn’t notice unless you were looking for it. But you felt it in him- he probably rotated through a variety of aliases. The spark of curiosity you held for the man was quickly being fanned into a large flame; who was he? More importantly, who- or what- was he hiding from? 

“Mm. Well, Venka,” you poured his not-name off of your tongue with a teasing lilt, “What brings you to Calfa?”

“Ah, just some business. Nothing I want to bore you with. You?” He sipped his drink, raising his brows over the rim of the glass. 

You shrugged. “Just traveling.” You kept it short. 

He tilted his head slightly. “A beautiful woman traveling the galaxy alone? Seems a bit unsafe.”

“Are you suggesting I don’t know how to hold my own?” You bristled, brows furrowing.

His featured softened as he chuckled again. “No, no. I meant unsafe for whomever crosses your path.” Venka raised his drink towards you. 

You rolled your eyes and huffed out a laugh. “Nice save.”

When he smiled at you this time, it felt more real. His chest bounced as he laughed at your words, his head tilted back. As your conversation continued, you were both clearly holding back, unwilling to give up too much of yourself to the other. It was the way you had to be. And yet, even with the restrictions, you were also unwilling to stop talking to him. He was entrancing. You allowed yourself to be charmed by him, whether you meant to or not. Your will was slipping- what was the problem with having just one night of fun?  

 You knew you should’ve taken the drink and left him sitting there, told him to have a good night, but you couldn’t. Instead, you found yourself with your hand on his knee, slowly inching up his thigh.

“Care for another round?” You purred, leaning closer to him. You could smell him from here; a maddening combination of pine and sage. Cologne he’d probably swiped from someone rich enough to not even notice it was missing. 

His eyelids were low, a slanted smirk on his face. “Only if you do.” 

Your head quirked to the side as you raised a brow. “Something else in mind?” 

When he responded, his voice was low and rough. It sent a chill down your spine.

“We stop dancing around it and go back to your place.” 

Heat blossomed through your chest and sizzled down your body. Any inhibitions you’d felt previously were now fully gone- his large hand overtook yours as he helped you step down from the tall barstool. The heels you wore clicked against the metal floor, making a satisfying sound that let everyone in the room know you were on your way out. Though your goal was usually to remain unnoticed, you couldn’t help but feel a smug pride as you soaked in the attention. 

Venka’s hand gently floated behind your back, guiding you as you walked together. Not much was said on the short journey to your tiny studio, though an electricity was undeniably thrumming between the two of you. He let you lead the way, leaning against the wall with his hands tucked in his pockets as he patiently waited for you to unlock the door. You stepped in first, motioning for him to come in, before locking the door behind him. You reminded yourself to remain calm- though it was proving to be difficult with the way he was looking at you, brown eyes impossibly dark.

There wasn’t much to the space- a small couch in the middle of the room with an even smaller table in front of it, both provided with the lease. In the corner was a kitchen, white counters and appliances untouched. Towards the back of the space was the bedroom, which you set your sights on as soon as you heard the lock click. 

“Can I kiss you now?” He asked, pressing his forehead to yours and slinking his hands around your back.

You couldn’t help but let out a small puff of a chuckle at him asking permission, the intimacy of it warming your heart. 

“Yes please.”

You draped your arms over his shoulders, grabbing hold of his jacket collar. He tugged you closer, pressing his lips to yours with a sigh. His lips tasted of the bitter liquid he’d been drinking at the bar; it mixed intoxicatingly well with the sweet nature of your own drink that still lingered on your own lips. Venka- or whatever his real name was, you were finding it harder and harder to care- was a dangerously good kisser. The way his tongue slipped into your mouth felt almost natural, as if it belonged there. He pulled you in closer with a gentle grip on your neck, melding your bodies together.

“You are…” he began as he pulled back from you with a sigh. “A very beautiful woman.” 

You bit back a smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere, sir.” 

He gave you a smirk. “Whatever you say.” 

Stepping back, he slipped a finger under the silver strap of the dress you’d donned. It was overpriced, and most definitely not your style, but allowed you to blend in on a variety of these gaudy planets you tended to haunt, so you kept it around. His eyes were raking over you hungrily, eagerly awaiting your permission to continue- you were very glad you’d decided to wear it tonight. 

After you gave him a small nod he continued, sliding the strap down your shoulder and repeating the action on the other side. His fingers were rough in texture, a tell that he was someone who had worked with them a lot, but they moved over your skin with a surprising fluidity and gentle nature. The dress now only clung to your breasts, so you met his eyes and gave a small tug until you were completely bare before him aside from your underwear. He ran a hand down his face, catching his breath a moment, before closing the space between your bodies again and meeting your mouth with his. He kissed you with so much intensity- it was overwhelming and taking over your senses in every way possible. His hands gripped the base of your neck and the small of your back, holding you as if you’d slip away at any moment. 

As he kissed you, you tugged on his thick jacket, desperate to shed him of the layers. He obliged happily, not breaking the rhythm he’d made as he shrugged it off. You slipped your hands between your bodies, working the buttons on his chest with an eagerness that was almost embarrassing; you stopped caring when he pressed his thigh between your legs. The fabric was rough- not quite denim, but enough to make your hips roll against it. He smirked against your lips, knowing the effect he was having on you. Not willing to let him win, you pushed off the wall with your foot, catching him off guard and using his surprise to your advantage to switch your places. 

His hair had fallen onto his face a bit, framing his eyes and making them appear softer. You briefly noted that he looked younger in this light, before brushing it away from his forehead and getting back to work untucking his shirt and pulling it down his arms. His chest had a light dusting of hair on it, so irresistibly tempting you couldn’t help but place a small kiss to it. From there you set on his pants buckle, one that was overly complicated but you thankfully figured out with minimal embarrassment. You sank down, looking up at him with round eyes, pulling the fabric of his trousers down with you. His bulge was evident- pressing eagerly against the soft fabric of his underwear. Although he was a relatively lean man, you could see that his cock was anything but. It was thick- mighty, even. You stuck your fingers in the band of the garment, pressing a kiss to his clothed member before pulling it down. 

His eyes were trained sharply on you, watching your every move. He was waiting, anticipating what you’d do next. You moved deliberately slowly, enjoying being the one in power. All part of the persona, of course- but he didn’t need to know that. As far as he was concerned, this was who you were all the time.

Gripping the base of his stiff erection, you held it in place to take only the very tip into your mouth. Your lips circled around it, and your tongue slid forward to trace a pattern on the sensitive area. You pulled back a moment, keeping his eye, before returning and pulling more of him into your mouth. You began a slow rhythm, sucking him off while moving your hand at the base of him. He was clearly holding back, letting out heavy breaths. His hand had moved to the back of your hair, not pushing on your head, but simply resting there. You were making filthynoises around him- a sultry slurping sound that you knew was driving him crazy by the way his fingers gripped your hair, with a few cooing hums sprinkled in for good measure.

“I wanna hear you,” you purred, pulling your mouth off of him but keeping your hand moving. 

He made to reply with a snarky comment, but you cut him off by returning your mouth to his cock, this time with more urgency. Your hand was gliding up and down the length of him, lubricated by your spit, meeting with your mouth rhythmically. Your cheeks were hollowed around him and your tongue was pressing firmly against the underside of the member, dragging up and down steadily. There it was- the thud of his head back against the wall, the muscles giving out under the pleasure. His hand pressed more into the back of your head to urge you on, and of course, you did.

His hips were starting to move of their own accord; a slight twitch that you could feel all the way where you gripped his thighs. Soft, breaking moans were escaping his barely parted lips, and when you spared a glance upwards, you made a mental note to save the sight forever. His long torso flexing towards you, his abs straining as he held himself back. One arm tucked neatly behind your head, the other trying to find purchase in the wall and grasping at it desperately. And finally, perhaps the most beautiful aspect of the picture- his head, tossed back so his curls flopped away from his face, and his eyes drawn in tight. The image sent heat up your spine and warmed your cheeks, urging you on further and further until-

“Stopstop- stop,” He breathed out, gently pulling your mouth away from him with a heaving chest.

You sat back on your knees, taking a moment to wipe the spit from around your lips. “Did I hurt you?” You asked, out of breath yourself.

He chuckled, eyes still closed. “The furthest from it.” After a moment, he looked down at you, his smug smile from before slowly inching its way across his face. He extended an arm and grabbed your hand, pulling you up until you were level.

Gripping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, he tugged your mouth to his, locking your lips together. You felt the air leave your chest.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

Something in the back of your mind told you to keep up the dominant persona you’d had such a strong grip on before; but the way he was looking at you, somehow both commanding yet comforting, turned that part of your brain off. You only obeyed him, crawling slowly onto your bed and arching your back towards him.

From behind, you heard him hum hungrily.  “Mind if I take these off?” He asked, thumbs popping underneath the band of your underwear.

You twisted your neck, just barely able to see him. “Be my guest.”

He smirked, gripping the underwear and sliding it over the curve of your bottom and down your thighs. He ran a hand in the opposite direction, carefully mapping out the expanse of your skin.

“Now, let’s see…” He started, taking his middle finger and dragging it from your ass inwards towards your center. He was met with wet heat, his finger sliding through it with ease. “Ah, did you like sucking me off, pretty girl? You’re soaking.”

Your cheeks warmed- you oddly felt as if you’d been caught. Perhaps your facade was a bit more see through than you’d thought. 

A small pinch to your ass pulled you back to the moment. “I asked you a question.”

“I did,” you replied sheepishly. 

He chuckled devilishly. He leaned forward, caging you in. He spoke in a hushed tone, the kind that lit your whole body up. 

“I’m going to fuck you now.”

His cock slid into you slowly, causing your walls to clench as you let out a throaty moan. Though it was a shallow fit, he still curved into you so fully your eyes rolled back. He was taking it slow, dragging against you. He balanced himself carefully on one hand, using the other to wrap around your stomach and slide up to squeeze at your chest. Oddly enough, what you noticed most in that moment- aside from the way he was stretching you open, of course- was the way he was so warm. It was as if he were enveloping you fully, melding your bodies into one as you gripped at the soft pillowcases beneath you. 

He was letting out a series of mmms and ahhs, choral noises to score the way he was drilling into you. You wished he would be louder, though you would take what you could get. You didn’t feel a need to keep quiet yourself, allowing your moans to flow freely, and in turn rewarded by his verbal praise.

“Feels good, huh?” He tutted cockily.

You ground yourself back against him, mouth agape as he brushed against something deadly within you. “F-uck,” was all you managed to reply with. 

It was hard to process exactly how much time was passing; all you could clearly feel was him penetrating you so deeply. You were lost in the clouds, gripping at sheets and tears escaping your eyes, when you felt him pat the side of your leg.

“Flip over. I want to see that pretty face.”

In a different context with a different partner, you would’ve scoffed at his command. It was corny and overdone, yet you didn’t find yourself laughing at all. You instead rolled over eagerly, sinking your fingers into his hair and pulling him in for a kiss. Your mouths clashed together eagerly, drinking each other in as if it were your last sip you’d ever take. 

“You’re so big,” you breathed out, eyes shutting again as he slid back into you. 

It was another corny line, one you usually reserved to inflate the ego of whatever sap you were looking to con that evening. But this time, you meant it. He slid impossibly deep into you, dipping down to lick and kiss at your collarbones. 

In this new position, you were able to slid your hands around his sides, moving them down until you could grip at the soft flesh of his ass. It seemed to encourage him, speeding up his strokes when you did so. 

“Shit,” you hissed. “I’m getting close.” 

“Yeah?” He piped up, quirking his brow at you. 

You nodded vigorously. He responded by slipping his hand between you, shuffling his hand around until he found your clit. You sucked in a sharp breath at the contact.

“Is that helping, pretty girl? You like when I touch you?” He soothed, though his voice was tense and strained. 

You could only nod again, feeling the first tingling of an impending orgasm starting in your belly. You sank your nails deeper into his skin- it felt like fire was starting to burn through your whole body and you never wanted it to stop. 

“Oh my god,” you cried, mouth dropped open and brows pulled together. 

“What is your name?” He grunted, the words escaping through his breaths.

Caught off guard by the question, it took you a moment to find the name you’d given him- which one was it? Lia? Heleya? There were too many to keep track of and all of them were the furthest thing from your brain in that moment.

“Lina,” you shot back finally.

He gave you a disapproving grunt, shaking his head. “Your real name.” He looked down at you earnestly, still delivering deep strokes that had any coherent thoughts jumbled and nearly impossible to detangle.

You heart skipped a beat. Of course he was onto you- he was just as much of a liar himself. The two of you had played that game all night.

“Ah- yours first.” You spoke through a moan.

He grinned down at you, and you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh before tugging his head down to yours and kissing him once again. It was an unspoken acknowledgement between the two of you; you had to keep your real identity as close to your chest as you could. This lifestyle, this galaxy, was too unsafe to do otherwise. When you broke away, he remained mere inches from your face. 

“Not a chance.”

He was beginning to stutter in his movements, while you were still barreling towards climax. You were moaning almost pornographically, the kind of moans that are embarrassing when you remember them in the morning, though you felt anything but shame right now. 

“Fuck,” he exclaimed. He was teetering on the edge; you were both waiting to see who would break first. He was getting you dangerously close with every gentle circle of his fingers against your clit. 

“Let it go. Fill me up.” You cooed breathily, panting loudly.

“N-no,” he stuttered. He slowed the movements of his cock down, focusing his efforts on you. 

As you sucked in more and more air, your hips bucking up, he nodded to you in encouragement. “That’s it, there you go,” he uttered sultrily when you finally broke.

You clenched around him over and over, and while he made a valiant effort to allow your climax to finish before giving into his own, it became too much for him and he began quickly pounding into you before finishing with the loudest moan you’d heard him let out all night. It was a heavenly sound, and one you’d probably store in your mind forever.

“Christ,” you huffed out, laying flat as he removed himself from you. He collapsed on the bed silently, save for small puffs of air leaving his chest. 

The two of you remained side by side that way for a moment, completely bare atop your small bed. When your breathing had finally evened out, you turned your head to take in his resting form. 

He had several marks in varying states of healing, some as fully formed scars while others were fresh scrapes. Each one intrigued you, and you found yourself longing to trace them and ask for the story. You knew you couldn’t- feelings like this weren’t allowed. Vulnerability wasn’t allowed. But he looked so soft this way. You tried your best to set the feeling aside, choosing instead to curl yourself into his open arm.

His hand wrapped around your shoulder, rubbing it gently. You briefly pondered how strange this was objectively; two people, probably in lines of business much more similar than you realized, finding release and affection before you would both disappear back into the galaxy. It was almost sad, if you thought about it too hard. Perhaps you would settle down someday- as you laid there you allowed your mind to wander to the idea of normalcy, a family. An honest life, not one where you had to hide and find thrills in crime and rebellion. It shouldn’t have been a comforting idea, yet it was always lurking in the back of your conscious. 

He rolled over so he could hold you from behind, keeping his arm wrapped so it was tucked under you. He linked your fingers on the other arm, holding your hands against your tummy. Silence was rolling over the room, pulling you into sleep, until you heard him mumble something into your hair.

“What?” You asked croakily, not bothering to open your eyes. 

“My name.” He repeated, still at a hushed level. “It’s Cassian.” 

You were silent for a moment, letting the weight of his admission sink into your skin. In another other circumstance, this would be the moment you ran. You didn’t need to get personal like this. But in that moment, you made another choice.

“Cassian,” you echoed back, enjoying the way it rolled off your tongue. 

Though you shouldn’t have, you couldn’t help it.

You told him your real name.

———————————-

Not sure who to tag for this so I’ll just tag my mando ppl!! Feel free to disregard if this isn’t ur cup of tea<3

@guess-my-next-obsession @iamskyereads @grippingbeskar @axshadows @wheresarizona

[callmemana]

For @thesluttyarchivist ‘s 100 follower celebration 💛

The Broken House

Gender neutral reader x Robert Floyd

Angst list prompt : “I hate the way things are right now.”

Word count : 1167

⚡️⚡️⚡️

The rain poured down like a waterfall as they ran out of the house wearing an old college T-shirt and sweatpants only towards their car, two suitcases feeling heavy in their arms as they threw them in the back in a half hazard way. That was the last straw, as the car door slammed shut, tears began to flow. They couldn’t take it anymore, being gone for months on end with no before-mentioned return date. Dating someone in the military was supposed to be hard, they knew what they signed up for on that first date with Robert, but they didn’t read the fine print as it seems. So, like a scared coward, they ran. They ran while he was on a carrier ship, heading towards another dangerous mission.

After three years of being together, you would think that they would be used to it and not as scared as they are now, but fear like this never fades out. They had gone to their parents’ house first, until they could afford Their own apartment nearby. It took a while, but they finally managed to do it. It had been months after the breakup that they had seen him again, longer hair and a five o’clock shadow on his usually clean, baby face, and wearing a Navy issued hoodie and grey sweatpants. Of course it just had to be at the store of all places that they saw each other again, it was like one of those cheesy rom com Hallmark movies. They tried to sneak past the beginning of the aisle without being seen, but as luck would have it, they ran into a different familiar aviator.

“Y/N, what a surprise. I didn’t mean to run into you,” they kept their head towards the ground out of embarrassment, they couldn’t even face her “Nice to see you too, Phoenix.” “At least it would be if you could look at me. He’s not the same without you, you know. He’s been in a funk ever since you left.” “I-I just couldn't take being alone in that big house by myself anymore, I felt like I was going crazy,” Y/N said as they lifted their head, with glassy eyes. “Well, now Bob feels that way,” “He couldn’t get new housing?” Phoenix sighed, “He still thinks you’ll come back, he couldn’t forgive himself if he got a new house when so many memories were made in it.” The guilt felt heavy in their stomach as the information was brought to light, he was feeling the same as you did in that house all by your lonesome. How could you do that to him? “He should just move on, start anew.” “He can’t, not without you. He doesn’t come out with the squad anymore, just sits in his house waiting for you to come back.”

Phoenix put her hand on their shoulder in worry. “He needs to realize that I’m not coming back. I left for a reason, and I’ve made my choice. Was it a bad choice, yes, but I made it and now I got to lie in the bed I made.” “If it was a bad choice, then why not try to make things better? Its hurt both of you and I don’t think I can take seeing either of you like this anymore.” Phoenix gave their shoulder a light squeeze. “What’s done is done, Phoenix. How could I face him when I can’t even talk to you without the guilt of what I’ve done eat at me?” they shifted their eyes back to the cheap, fake tiled flooring of the store. “Bob and you need to talk Y/N. He didn’t get closure; you did the day you left. I got to go, Bob will be looking for me soon. It was nice to see you again, we miss you.” Phoenix gave a short hug before going in the opposite direction to where Bob was, they stayed frozen in the spot for a couple of seconds before finally deciding to finish their shopping trip. Maybe Phoenix is right, we should talk. After that thought, they shook their head, how could they face him, look into those baby blues, and say why they left. It would kill him to hear the truth. It killed them when they left.

It was a couple of weeks later when they finally ran into each other again, this time at the gas station. They were on the opposite sides of the same pump; they caught the shine of his glasses when the sun passed through. Now, rushing to finish before he could recognize them, dropped their card on the ground, more on the other side than their own. “Excuse me, you’ve dropped this.” Their eyes connect, and it seems like no time has passed as they take the card from Bob’s hand. “O-Oh, um well, here you go, I’ll let you be,” he wiped his hands on his pants nervously. “T-Thanks,” they stutter out. As they turn to leave, but before they can open the driver’s side door, Bob speaks again, “I hate the way things are right now, I’m not myself and I hate it so much.”

“Bob,” he cuts them off before they can finish, “I just need to understand why, why you left so suddenly and then went radio silent. Was it me? Did I do something to upset you?” The guilt was back and weighed heavily on you as you heard the confusion and sadness in his voice. “No, Bob, never. You never did anything to upset me, I just couldn't be in that house without you while you were gone for so long. It killed me, and I know that the internet and mail are slow when you’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean, but I couldn’t handle not seeing you, or your handwriting, hearing your voice, for months. It was like you were a dream, and when I woke up, you disappeared from my memory, and I only remembered some fuzzy details of it.”

“I’m sorry you felt that way, if we could go back, I’d try to be better at writing or video chatting. It killed me too, you know. The not being able to see, touch, or hear, you. It was like torture, darlin’ and I never want to feel that way again.” He came closer to gently grab Their hands, but they pulled away slowly. “I don’t either, but I can’t Bob. I just can’t go back to where we were in the relationship,” “So, we start over. As if we just met.” “O-Ok, I guess that can work.” “Hello, my name is Robert, but most people call me Bob.” “Hi Robert, my name is Y/N” “Would you like to maybe go out on a date with me, Y/N?” heat rose from their cheeks at the question just like it did the first time he asked, three years ago, “I would love to go on a date with you Robert.”

[vampireb1tez]

Thought I’d be a little more open regarding my current mental state, and I guess my life situation as a whole.

My parents split up in May of this year, due to reasons I don’t feel comfortable disclosing on a public platform. It was a long time coming, but it still had a big impact on my mental health. Since then I have been stuck in a constant depressive funk, struggling with some really upsetting thoughts and feelings, and it hasn’t really been this bad since I was in middle school. I haven’t been able to draw unless I force myself, and that doesn’t feel good. I barely spend any time out of bed. What’s gotten me through these tough times is little more than fictional media and online friends.

On a more positive note, I’d like to thank these friends for getting me through all of this. You guys make my day, even if it’s just us drooling over animated dudes. I’ve also been attending therapy for a while, and it’s really helping me get my brain in order, especially now more than ever. It feels nice to talk to people about what I’m going through.

Additionally, I’m actually in the process of getting ready to move. My current family situation is very disjointed, and it’s gotten to the point where I need to remove myself from it entirely in order to heal. I haven’t really gotten any balls rolling quite yet, but I’m working on it.

That’s really it for this update. I just thought I’d be open with you guys on what’s been happening in my life and why I haven’t been posting as often as I used to, despite me promising to do so.

In short; I’ve been struggling pretty hard but I’m managing the best I can.

— Harley

[sekaedy]

2023: The Year of Expression

Welcome!

Hey there, person. Someway or another, you’ve found yourself at the personal blog of me, Kayla or Sekaedy, and I welcome you. I hope your 2023 is off to a good start.

I guess I’ll introduce myself a little bit. I’m 24 years old, I live in Edmonton, Alberta, Canada, and I’m in school for web development. It’s not exactly my dream career but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying it so far. And as far as job prospects go, I mean, everyone needs a website nowadays, right?

What I really want to be is a writer. I want to tell stories. To communicate the weird, unique ideas I have in a way that people can actually start to understand and even enjoy them. Mind you, it's not that I'm just beginning writing for the first time at the ripe age of 24, having never touched a keyboard before. I have stacks of notebooks of half-baked concepts, heaps of unfinished fanfiction and plenty more ideas kicking around my head. I even had a short story published in a university anthology!

But I still feel like I haven't earned the right to call myself a 'writer' yet. Mostly because I don't actually write that often. I'd like to think the act of writing this article and posting it is enough to change that, but I don't. Not really. I fell off completely the last few months for all sorts of reasons, but even for a while before that I was barely writing a few paragraphs a day. The mental act of formulating sentences and paragraphs, and the physical act of typing them out feels almost foreign now, because I've been out of the game for so long.

But no longer! Enough is enough!

Why we're here

Starting with this post, my writing funk is over. Throughout 2023, I intend on writing one article a week, for the purpose of reacquainting myself with writing stuff and, equally importantly, posting it. One of my problems is placing way too much importance on the things I write, to the point I get psyched out and paralyzed.

This project is designed to be as low pressure as possible, so every week I can just have fun with it. Maybe one week I'll do a review of something I read or watched, and the next I'll do a writing prompt. Maybe I'll have a thought I want to explore, or god forbid some opinions on current events. The possibilities are endless. The only rule is they have to be at least a thousand words long, so I have to actually write something of substance. As of the end of this paragraph I should be about halfway to 1k, so I'd like to talk about my plans for the new year :)

New year new me

That was one of my favorite videos by one of my favorite YouTubers, CGP Grey. If you didn't watch it, it's about an alternative to New Years Resolutions: themed years. Normally, people set goals for themselves for the new year that, ideally, feel attainable within that year. But then life gets in the way, you set aside your goal, and by the time December rolls around again, your goal is no longer attainable and you've failed. This video instead proposes that you choose a broad theme for your year to strive toward, that you can adapt to your needs as your circumstances change while still moving in the right direction.

I think it's an amazing concept. CGP Grey didn't invent it, I'm sure, but that video has over four million views. I'm probably not the only one who found out from him. A few years ago (I want to say 2020) I did the Year of Creation, and I actually wrote more that year than I ever had previously. For various reasons I didn't do any themes since then, but I'm revisiting it now because I know which direction I want to grow this year.

My theme

All my life, in all sorts of ways, I've been pushed away from being my true self. I'm not going to spend this article recounting my ~tragic backstory~ or anything like that, except what I have to to make sense. I was always a weird kid. Some people were curious or mystified, but most were annoyed or weirded out by me. I'm almost definitely some flavor of undiagnosed neurodivergent, and I was bullied a lot no matter where I went.

The lesson I learned from that is to push my personality deep down and be agreeable and unobtrusive wherever I went. I definitely had annoying tendencies and bad habits that I needed to improve on, but I think instead of refining my personality to something unique that people could appreciate, I just pushed it all down. And I realized that it was killing me.

Nowadays I actually do have friends who genuinely care about me, but I feel like they don't know the 'real' me. I never really let them know the ‘real’ me, because I don't know the 'real' me. In 2023 I want to be more true to myself, and become more comfortable putting myself - whoever that may be - out into the world. I don't want to live in fear anymore.

I recently realized (or maybe accepted) that I'm trans. I'm at the beginning of a very long journey with respect to transitioning, and I'm sure I'll talk about that experience here. Either way though, I don't think I'll ever get results if I'm not honest with myself about who I am and who I want to be.

I'm also in the middle of a more-or-less mutual breakup of a 3.5 year relationship. I respect my ex and care for her, but I needed to be able to find myself independently of another person. I also want to expand on this experience through articles in the future, because man if that’s not a catalyst for self-reflection and growth I don’t know what is.

So this year, I'm focused on getting to know myself. Understanding myself. Figuring out how I fit in this hellworld by actually putting myself out there in my writing, my actions, and my choices. It's really daunting, and I'm scared of being on my own again, and I'm afraid of alienating people, but I'm also excited. I've suffered from depression for so long but I'm hopeful that there's a light to the end of that tunnel. Sometimes that hope takes more effort than it feels like it's worth, but it's not like I have anything better to do than to strive for it. So my purpose for this year is clear.

2023 is the Year of Expression.

Thanks for reading.

[forfuckssakejim]

WRITER ASKS!

1 & 2

7 & 8

16 & 17

18 & 20

23 & 24

26 & 27

29

Please and Thanks

This uh. Sorta got away from me so here we go:

1. When did you start writing? How?

I’ve always been a writer? I know that sounds strange but ever since I was like. A little kid. I would love filling my notebooks and journals with my writing. In kindergarten I even made the notability wall. A hallway that connected the main part of the school to the classrooms. It was filled with stellar works of creative assignments. The older grades were usually more prominently shown. I had wrote a story (like. 4 pages long) about a leprechaun for St. Patrick’s day (I’m sure my mom might still have it stashed somewhere) that cursed someone and they had to go across the country from California to Maine. I don’t remember much of it but I remember that. “Maine! But we’re in California!” And the leprechaun laughed. “Tough luck, better get walking.” And that was like? The last part of the story that had my poor teacher roaring with laughter that she had to actually walk out of the room for a moment. Mrs M (who also taught my dad and retired next year after realizing she had now taught two generations and was like “I’m too old for this”) had taken it the principal who had put it in on the wall. It had won like, favorite story of the month or something. All the kids had stopped to read it, flipping through the stapled pages that were on the wall. It was really, a very pivotal point in my life that solidified the fact that I wanted to be a writer. It’s been 20 years now and I wish I could thank Mrs M for being my first fan.

2. Has your writing changed over time?

Oh most definitely! When I first started really writing fanfiction in my FF.net days I was okay. People still loved my stories and I slowly, I changed my writing style and it grew and flourished. When I first start a fandom the fics will of course be choppy. It’s why I usually spend time writing more “meta” style fics before moving to more dialogue heavy and then towards action and scenery changes. I like to slowly explore things. I’m proud of where my writing stands today.

7. How would you describe your writing style?

Is chaotic a choice? Lol. But really? I don’t quite know where to begin. It’s messy and raw thoughts thrown into computer binary that somehow swirls and forms into the story that you read. I’m not sure what happens In between, maybe it’s witch craft, but isn’t it beautiful? Sometimes I go back and I realize a paragraph has potential to be fleshed out. Next thing I know the story is 10 paragraphs longer and I forgot where I was going with the original thought. Sometimes I’m able to bridge them back together. Sometimes I’m not successful. See if you can spot them next time you read a fic. (There’s a lot in A Love You Hate)

8. Have any comments/tags/responses on a fic of yours ever made you laugh, cry or both?

Honestly 95% of the comments I get make me so happy. But there are some that make me laugh and cry. I keep a folder of screenshots to look at when I get into a funk with my writing; if it’s just old fashioned writers block or not feeling like I’m worthy of the words (or vice versa, not feeling that my words are worthy of the story I’m trying to write) I find looking back at them helps me and gives me confidence to write more.

16. What is your favorite character (or characters) to write for?

Ohhhh that’s hard. I love writing for Spock. Always. I guess tho? Each fandom has a certain character I can relate to most which makes it easier for me? I guess? Lol.

17. What piece of writing are you most proud of?

Ohhhh. That’s a tough one hmmm. I’m really proud of From Eden, Help Me Not To Be, Okay, and Misery Business.

18. Which is more difficult, the title or the summary?

The summary totally. When in doubt with a title I usually go for song lyrics (if the fic wasn’t inspired by a song in the first place) or a line from the fic itself. Summaries are just. They’re easier if it’s a longer fic; where you can just copy and paste a paragraph and call it Gucci. But if it’s a shorter one you have to find just the right thing ton say.

20. Do you prefer to edit as you go, or once the piece is finished?

It’s funny cuz I do both! To expand on #7, if I edit once the piece is finished I tend to accidentally add another 500+ words to the story. But sometimes I edit as I write which, as I’ve learned in my writing classes, is actually a bad writing habit as it can distract your thought process from the task at hand which can actually lead to writers block. Did I try to do as my professor said and avoid editing as I wrote? Yes, and I wrote a lot of fics that way? Did I feel like I was less proud of the work I did? Yes. Because the draft/rough copy I had composed was nothing of what I wanted it to be. Mixed results on that one, some were posted; some are lost in my google drive folder.

23. Have you ever stopped yourself from writing something? Why?

Yes. Shame. Shame that I would be judged and criticized harshly for something that I had brought forth into creation’s spotlight. Feelings of dread and inadequacy also play a key role, one that I wish I could recast into joy and appreciation for what I’ve created. But sometimes, cringe culture still reaches deep inside of my brain and sometimes makes me reevaluate my whole reason for writing something in the first place. I’ve learned to step past it, labeling things as “crack” or “crack taken seriously.” And it gives me a chance. It gives me a chance to breathe.

24. Would you ever collaborate with another writer for a story?

OF FUCKING COURSE!!!!! I love collaborating with other authors!!!! Or even with artists!!!!! Literally whenever!!! Hit me up please I beg you. (Also uh. Pro tip. If I like a post; be it art or a head canon chances are I’m writing it and will be sheepishly sending you a message if I could write it. Or if we’re friends/mutuals/you’ve interacted with me while I hid in your closet admiring your wares from afar, I will literally just inbox you a link to my google folder and be like “I, Sir James, have presented an offering for their majesty! May it bring honor to your house.” There is no in between. And if we’re super duper friends and Mutuals across 5 different social media platforms (and may or may not know my dead name) I will just straight up type it all into your inbox after a solitary conversation like the greedy keyboard slut I am all while screaming as I type as you look horrified at your screen as it continues to say “Jim is typing” for twenty minutes and you are not sure which emotion you should be feeling in that span of forever.

26. Is there a specific scene or scenario you’re looking forward to most? (No, you don’t have to give away spoilers!)

Hmmmmmm. Yes. I may be working on a string of projects which is just “Normal Title of the fic that is already posted” (Jim’s Version) which is literally the unedited, full throttle angst/fluff/smut fest that the gods intended for but I was too much of a coward to go through with it.

27. Are there certain types of writing you won’t do? (style, pov, genre, tropes, etc)

(Insert Aslan Gif here of “do not cite the old magic to me witch; I was there when it was written”) I’ve been writing fanfiction for a decade. What haven’t I written? Lmao. But really??? I’m not sure if anything is not on or off the table? Merely hanging in a state of unknown levitation, leaving someone asking if it’s even there at all.

29. Best writing advice for other writers?

Just like any skill, writing takes time. You’re knot naturaly going to be good at something the first time u put you’re words into tangible form. You’re going to make missteaks, your going to misspell simple words, use the wrong form of the word. Your going to look at it and think to yourself ‘is that even makes sense?” And the answer will be know. Know that it won’t make sense, know that it’s going to look bad. You’re still learning and that’s okay. And as you learn and grow, you’ll see that things are looking better. The sentences flow better. You learn new little tips and tricks to make simple sentence structures feel like an ice pick through the heart. You’ll get there. Just know that your writing will suck. And embrace it. It’s okay to be bad. It’s okay to be awful. What isn’t okay is not have tried at all.

[just-here-for-fun-i-guess]

Space Dogs

(Hey! This fic was also posted on ao3 here, it would mean so much if you could give it a like and/or comment there)

Jade knocked on the outside of the pod and waved. Through the thick paned window, she could see the Russian space dog barking. Both their tails wagged in delight.

In an instant, Jade was in the pod with the dog. “Laika! Hi, oh, hi you! Look at you! You’re so friendly, so nice, you’re such a good dog!”

Laika barked and whined. It had been a day or two since she’d seen anyone. She jumped up onto Jade, sniffing her all over.

“Oh, you are just the sweetest!” Jade squealed. “Your coat is so soft, and you’re just so pretty! Come here!” Jade ruffled Laika’s face around, scratching behind her ears and kissing her nose.

“You know, you remind me of an old friend of mine!” She said, pointing to her ears. “His name was Bec, and he was the best dog a girl like me could ever ask for!”

Jade’s smile faltered, and her eyes saddened somewhat. She shook her head, breaking herself out of her funk. “Here, I brought something for you!” In a flash of green, Jade produced two milkbones, which Laika readily lapped up. “You like those? I have to admit, I’ve tried them myself, and I can see why you like them.”

Jade giggled, and gazed warmly at Laika, who in turn gazed adoringly back up at her. Jade sighed and sit down, patting the spot next to her. “Come here girl, sit with me.” Laika bounded over, circled a few times, and curled up next to Jade, laying her head in the girl’s lap.

Jade pet her head idly. “Oh, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to meet you.” She sighed. “You know, back when I was younger, I would look out the window at night, wondering if you were up there, looking down on me.

“I’ve been obsessed with your story ever since I heard it. A brave creature, off to the unknown, yet ready to face it.” Jade shook her head. “Did you know, girl? That you’d never be able to go back? That you’d simply float out here alone, no one to take care of you?”

Laika didn’t stir. Her breathing was even and steady. She was fed and cared for.

“I don’t think anyone understands what it’s like to be out here. They could have set up radios, screens, hell, even holograms in your pod, but they wouldn’t understand how it feels to be out here forever. Slowly drifting away from everything and everyone you ever knew, the infinity between you only growing bigger.”

Again, Laika didn’t move. Jade simply laughed ruefully. “Of course you didn’t. You’re a dog. Loyal to a fault, doing whatever the people around you think is best. I bet there's no one you want to be with more than them right now. It would be so much easier if everything just went back to the way it was before.”

Jade sniffed, and Laika felt tears drop onto her back. She looked up at Jade, tilting her head. Getting up tentatively, she licked Jade’s face. Through her sobs, Jade laughed. “Good girl, Laika. Gosh, you’re sweet.”

Suddenly, something caught Jade’s attention. She put a finger up to her ear. “What? Dave, please, I only just- to hell with the damn timeline!”

The anger in Jade’s voice made Laika recede for a moment. Jade made a face as if she’d just stepped on the dog’s paw on accident. Reluctantly, she put her hand back up to her ear. “Fine, just… just another minute. Thank you.”

Jade wiped the tears from her face, but they continued to fall. She held her arms out to the dog, who in turn placed her head on the girl’s shoulder. She sobbed into Laika’s coat.

Jade composed herself to the best of her ability. In another flash of green, a small stuffed dog showed up. “Here,” Jade said shakily. “So you’re not completely alone.”

Jade looked Laika once more in the eyes, and she felt true understanding. More than from any of her endless ramblings to her friends, more than from Kanaya, more than from even Calliope. All she could do was break into another wide grin, though tears still streamed down her face. “Thank you, Laika. You are such a good dog.”

She stood up and placed her hand on her ear. “Ok Dave, I’m ready.” In a flash of red, she was gone.

Laika tilted her head at where the girl had been. After a moment, she went to inspect the toy. She curled up and laid her head on it. It smelled like that nice girl.

(If you liked this, drop a like and reblog! It helps so much!)

[sorrycory]

We were on a beach. It might’ve been the little one near my house, but it looked a lot cleaner than it ever had been before. It’s funny who shows up in my dreams and who doesn’t, because the friends in this one aren’t even people I’ve met in real life yet. They’re internet friends I don’t even think entirely like me because I’m off my rocker.

I over share a lot. It’s why I started this account, actually- guess you could say it’s a coping mechanism.

B was over near the beach, lying on a towel. She might’ve been suntanning. That seems like something she would do. B is the type of person who likes wearing perfumes, and having a specific signature scent. I’d be into that thing, if I ever got over my discomfort of spending money on fun short term items. I don’t really go outside all that much, anyways. I probably have a scent of funk- I’ve been told I smell like incense before. Not really sure what that smells like.

G was hanging out with W, which I guess makes sense since they’re dating. Well- not really dating, but you know- they’re kind of nervous to go public currently, which is fair.

W asked if I would make a YouTube video, which is honestly kinda funny, because neither of us have YouTube channels. O tagged a long, and at some point I saw G with us again. I think we were tubing? But there wasn’t any kind of boat dragging us, the tube was just moving all on its own. It was fairly big- fit all four of us, though O was hanging off the back. W was laying off on his side with a big smile on his face, but I noticed that all the sudden we took a really sharp turn, and I got thrown off into darker sectors of the water. Shore was too far- I couldn’t make it if I tried. I can’t exactly properly swim- I look like a dog with a missing back leg half the time.

I just watched them uncontrollably drift away. I might’ve drowned, I don’t really remember. I remember there was a wooden cabin at some point, but I think I only saw it at the beginning of the dream. I just remember it felt like I was laying on the floor, and W was smiling and laughing in the corner of my eye that I just couldn’t quite see.

I woke up at 6:55 sharp. Usually I wake up at 10:00, or somewhere around that time when I’m up late. I have sleeping issues, so I’m always kind of up late because of them.

No one’s seeing this. I’m sure it’s safe to be at least somewhat vulnerable, right? I’m already documenting my dreams. You can’t really get any more vulnerable.

My name isn’t actually Cory. Not legally, anyways- I go by a couple names online, but Cory will do just fine here. I’m turning 17 in a month, and I’m not really sure if I should be excited or not. My past 3 or 4 birthdays have always gone wrong in some way. I jokingly call it “The birthday curse”. Note to self: stop consuming so much caffeine before/during the party. I wear a lot of green- and I mean a lot, but my favorite color’s pink. I can’t really explain why, but green just feels right on me. It’s something that makes me feel like myself.

That’s probably enough over sharing on the internet for one post. I’ll probably talk more on my next post- the next time I have a dream.

[milo-is-rambling]

Couldn’t sleep so I went to get up thinking oh I’ll have to grind weed so I can fall back asleep and then I thought no I’ll take a a dab but I thought no that’s too much I’ll just smoke flower and then I went to get up and I accidentally lifted my blanket too high and knocked over the little jar I had on my bedside table that had ALLL OF THE INCENSE STICKS IVE COLLECTED FROM THE LAST TWO YEARS IN IT. So I breathed. And I breathed. And I turned my light on. And I got really annoyed and picked up small sticks that blend in with my floor for five minutes and then I breathed some more and couldn’t fit all the sticks back in the jar bc they’d been placed meticulously so they all laid perfectly against one side so there was still room to put more and I was not about to individually put all those sticks in that jar when all I wanted to do was to smoke and take off the heavier blanket and pass out. So I moved the incense sticks to my skull jar that I haven’t used in a while and now it looks like this.

But I did earn a dab being allowed from my brain in the process. So yay me. Also funk has been absolutely SCREAMING at me at the top of his little bird lungs bc I turned the light on to smoke and play accidental pick up sticks for twenty minutes and it’s giving me a headache and it’s just like godddddd how can everything go so wrong so fast not just me knocking over a jar of sticks but like. Life. Something about me collecting all my incense sticks and ash since I first moved into this house two years ago and then accidentally dropping the sticks like two days after I accidentally spilled incense ash all over my bed and didn’t even tell anyone cause it made me so annoyed and ashamed for some reason and I can’t even explain why I’m collecting the sticks or the ash. Like I have no fucking clue what I’m doing or why. I started collecting incense ash like three years ago when my friend and I went thru a ooo witchcraft phase and I just never stopped dumping the ash from my ashtray into a cheese container with a small plastic spoon like I don’t even know why I’m doing it I just set myself down this path and now I’m here and I’m attached to a jar of fucking kindling at this point like why did I cry over knocking over a jar of sticks what is wrong with me does it ever get easier why have I been taking my meds for almost 100 days and I still lose my shit over little things I feel like I will never be normal I will never get to be the person that will make my parents proud I feel like I’m constantly gonna be finding myself making one wrong move and ruin the thing I’m doing just to pretend I’m doing something with my life like I don’t even know what I want to do in the future there’s so many options everything is so scary forever I went to Walmart and I wanted to crawl into the squishmallow display and just die like if one more person looks at me and acknowledges I have a body I feel like I’ll lose my shit like oh my god I know I’m mentally ill but fucking hell. Just give me a break (I say while not having a job not doing school not even doing theater rn I’m just sitting at home in my brain and losing my mind waiting for therapy on the third) I’m so close to having someone to help me untangle my brain I really want to open up I want to feel like I can I want to remember shit I always forget I want to avoid crisis modes and be normal I want to get a job I want to shut up. Literally ever. If I could ever at any point learn to shut my fucking mouth and brain mouth up at the same time. Would be fucking fantastic. It seems impossible. Either I’m not thinking when I’m talking and then I’m an asshole or I’m not talking bc I’m thinking so hard about how I’m an asshole. Like either way in my head I am a shitty person forever and like I know I’ve been shitty like I know I’ve done shitty things but like I’m not broken forever I know there’s food in here but I need someone else to force me to see it bc I can’t find it on my own and I don’t trust it when it comes from my family or friends and a part of my brain says oh ur paying ur therapist to say that

But i want a therapist who will call me out on my bullshit and would tell me if I was being the asshole in the situation yknow. Anyways this is a lot of text and I’m not going to reread it all have fun going to the internet rambling blog void block of text goodbye gonna smoke a bowl and pass the fuck out hopefully my back and neck will stop hurting and I will stop being too hot and too cold at the same time and I will not have nightmares about past relationships or future relationships or picking incense sticks up for forever and they all match the color of the carpet and also it’s fine cause they look better in the skull jar and it’s fine and it doesn’t make me irrationally mad still even tho I picked them all up but I don’t know for sure if I got them all but I think I did but it’s going to bother me if I find them on my floor tomorrow. Okay bye

[burntoasters]

Tw depressing thoughts/I hate the holidays

I feel replaceable

I don’t know why recently I have just felt so… replaceable. Like I am just a place holder untill someone better comes along. Or like I am just there for when people don’t have anyone else but don’t want to be alone?

Since my partner and I broke up a few weeks ago, I thought I would feel much better. And I did for a bit, almost like a dead weight was lifted off my shoulders. Still I feel… I feel really fucking lonely. There’s such a vast difference in loneliness of a person who says they love you but doesn’t have time for you, and being genuinely alone. Even if they were a shitty partner… I wasn’t alone.

But now I am

2 people who were only temporarily staying at my house finally moved out, and then a few days later my roommate of 2 years went to go house sit for almost 2 weeks so the only people I have interacted with is my coworkers and most of us don’t really get along (and they are all at least 6 plus years older than me). I also live in butt fuck nowhere Deep South so everyone is… redneck 🤮

Don’t get me wrong, there are some genuinely good redneck folks who just want to help others. Unfortunately the bad ones are so much more common they tend to overshadow anyone else, and even those rednecks are exactly “friendly” to any lgbtqia+

I was really hoping I could find something to do or someone to hang out with that could maybe pull me out of my funk. And I thought I would get that opportunity when my best friend from high school asked if we could spend a whole day together on a day we were both off. Obviously I said yes, I hadn’t seen them in forever. I’ve been doing their hair for almost a year now I think maybe less. They had asked me to touch it up for Christmas, and also go with them to do some holiday shopping.

I don’t love Christian cause of uhh… ✨trauma✨ but they knew so much about my history that I knew I would feel safe enough with them that I wouldn’t have a complete breakdown. I was actually looking forward to it a lot, I even told the couple coworkers I talk to about it. The day before we were supposed to hang out I texted them and I asked if we were still on. They replied a few hours later with a “heck yeah”

Within a minute of their text I quickly asked if it was possible if they could pick me up since I have been having car trouble, I even offered to give gas money.

I guess that was too much to ask for, because they proceeded to not respond for the next 5 days… They waited until Christmas afternoon to finally text me.

Now this is the first time they have ever flaked on plans, but to me this is just a huge issue. I hate saying that because I just feel so gross about being upset by someone’s actions (I’m a people pleaser with massive anxiety and had a narcissistic single mom) but I just honestly can’t let it go.

It’s not the issue of being busy, I completely get that. It was 5 days before Christmas, I knew they are in school and they also work. I wouldn’t have had any problems rescheduling or just saying we can hang out another day. I wasn’t even getting anything out of it really other than just hanging out with them, I was the one doing something for them (for free I might add). I just…

I don’t get many days off from my job. This week I was off for Christmas and because we are so behind I don’t even know when my next day off is. Because of that, my days off aren’t really even days off they are more like chore days or adulting days where I get non work related shit done. Which I feel like is how most people my age live in this economy so I’m not fucking special but I’m just gonna say it for all of us doing this shit every week…

THIS. SHIT. FUCKING. SUCKS.

I am so tired of being and doing and going on and on for days just to get almost nothing out of it. I make shit money and I don’t even enjoy what I do but I don’t have the ability to just go somewhere else

All that to say: I spent a day of my life being unproductive because I was waiting on someone who didn’t even seem to have the time to spare a simple “I am so sorry can we reschedule today?”

I have massive ocd so if I start a task, I can’t just stop what I’m doing and go do something else. (Unless my adhd kicks in it’s not my fault ok I’m just built different not good but different) And obviously they don’t know that and I’m not gonna stand there and be like “Omg you made me lazy today you bitch!” Cause like obviously that’s not how it works

But I did however choose to put aside my responsibilities to spend time with someone that I genuinely care about and was excited to spend time with, and that person not only ghosted me for that day, it went on for 5 more days.

And like… it fucking hurts

I also get super insecure about our friendship just because they were “the popular kid” in our school and has a ton of friends even to this day. Like every time we hang out most of it is them spilling tea about their friendships, and I think it’s fucking great. But then I sit their and realize that they have so many people that talk to them and check on them and want to interact with them and… I don’t have that

They are pretty much my only outside contact and we talk maybe once a week

I just feel like maybe I’m convenient

Like I’m just there to fill voids for people

And I have such horrible trust issues from it. I’m at a point in life that I just refuse to try and date or social because I’m convinced that people will leave…

Because they always do

No matter how much you stay in contact. Whether you talk everyday or every month, eventually you get to a point where they are no longer in your life.

And I think that’s why I continue to cut people out, even when I can tell they are good for me

Especially when I can tell they might be good

Because I don’t deserve good

For I am just a place holder

[fahrni]

Why do companies hire me?

TL;DR

• I bring a lot of industry experience • I know how to ship software • I can work at all levels of the Software Development Lifecycle • I’ll do the work people don’t care to do • I’ll get down in the mud to get things accomplished • I’m not the best developer in the room, ever • I love mentoring younger developers • I’m collaborative • I’m empathetic • I don’t give up • I tell random stories, like the one you’re reading

That is a really good question. My answer is, I don’t know. My amazing wife — whose put up with me for over 36 years — would say something like ”Because you’re smart and know what you’re doing.” She’s always been my biggest supporter and I love her dearly for it. Anywho, I’ve always been my biggest critic and I can get down on myself, especially as I’ve aged.

After a failed attempt to run my own consulting company in 2014 I was really down and found it difficult to pull myself out of the funk that followed. Agrian saved me and I’m forever grateful for that and will never forget.

Moving forward to getting my gig here at WillowTree I was absolutely thrilled to make it through the interview process. I am a horrible interview. Sure, I do fine with the basic stuff; interacting with the interviewers, talking about general software development things, but the white boarding sessions are MURDER for me. There no other way to put it, I suck at them. They’re nerve wracking. I’m a slow coder, always have been, so that is an instant strike against me. I’m pragmatic and iterate on code until I’m happy with it. That often means I will chose an easier implementation that doesn’t go right to the best algorithm, but it written in a way that would allow for that later, perhaps during code review, perhaps in the next release. Maybe never if the code is easy to read, maintain, and is performant. Remember, premature optimization is not a good thing.

I can point to my feed reader Stream as an example of how I work. It took me two years to complete the first release of it and it’s a very bare bones app. As one reviewer said of it:

Very basic, unintuitive app, lika an experiment of a beginner de­vel­op­er

At first I was devastated by that. After some time to think on it and some encouragement from friend I came to realize it was a compliment in some regards. I’d made the app ”Very basic.” Yes, that was my intent from the beginning. I can fix the unintuitive bit and I believe I know what they’re talking about.

I’ve worked on and succeeded at developing large scale software projects. Two I can think of right off the top of my head are Visio, I was the 19th employee there, and worked on the project in various capacities for over 10 years. The second was Pelco where day one I was put on the embedded Linux version of our video decoding and viewing software. I was only there for five years, the first time, but feel like I accomplished a lot during my tenure.

Those were my heydays. I wrote a lot of C++ code on top of the Windows API and at Pelco the C++ code was shared between Windows and Linux. We had some really amazing devs there who I helped build a video decoding and encoding pipeline and base class framework for Windows and Linux. Those were good times.

But time marches on and so did my thirst for knowledge. At the end of 2008 I sat down to learn Xcode, Objective-C, and Cocoa/UIKit so I could become a mobile developer. After much frustration I shipped my first iOS app in mid-June of 2009 and it was approved on July 4th. It was a great day.

Since then I’ve learned Swift and various frameworks and as of this writing I’m just starting to dip into SwiftUI (worst technology name ever.) I may even have some Roku in my future, which I welcome! Yes, the one constant in Software Development is change. Embrace it!

Some select blog posts:

• Confessions of an Old Developer • A Kind Word • Reusing your code investment • Stream 1.0 • Scripting iOS • Old C++ Code

[skinnyducky]

lullaby (pt. 2 to cherry) // v.h.

This part went through so many changes. Originally, they weren't getting back together but I ultimately decided for Y/n to take Vinnie back because I'm a sucker for happy endings and second chances. Kinda came out longer than I wanted it too, but meh. This part is heavily inspired by the song "Lullaby" by Mariah Carey. Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

link to part 1

Word Count: 2219, unedited

WARNING: language, mentions of partying, alcohol, drugs, and a very fluffy yet cheesy ending.

---------

It had been a few months since you and Vinnie had bid your goodbyes. Within those months, you were doing great. You had aced your first semester classes, you just moved into your apartment, and you were at the highlight of your life. The only thing you lacked was someone to bask in the happiness with. To say you missed Vinnie was an understatement, but you were too prideful to actually tell yourself that.

You tried dating again, but no one could hold a candle to your Vinnie. Plus, you hadn’t been keeping up with him on social media or anything, so you didn’t know if he had moved on and forgotten you. You didn’t want to reopen old wounds, so you refrained from contacting him.

But little did you know, not a day went by that Vinnie didn’t think about you. He constantly thought about what he did, beating himself up for even having the thought of another girl while he was with you. But he didn’t know what to do. Your relationship was dying, and none of you bothered to even talk about it. So, to him, he thought there was nothing that he could do…thus causing him to do what he did. Thankfully, he didn’t go too far with the girl, but still…he knew what he did was terrible.

Dating for him was pretty much impossible. Much similar to your situation, there was no one who could fill your shoes. The way you danced around in his head during the day and ruled his dreams at night…no one could do that for him. You were one of a kind, and with as many offers he got, he was torn that none of them were from you. He was a funk…a really bad one.

His friends and housemates took notice of this and being the best friends they were, they decided to drag him out of the house and to a party at Triller Compound because that’s what every heartbroken friend needed when they’re down. To be surrounded by booze, loud music, and sweaty people…oh yeah, that’s what he definitely needed right at this moment.

“C’mon, at least smile a little bit.” Alex said, looking back the upset boy through the rearview mirror.

“Smile about what? Going to some party that I didn’t even want to go to.”

“You seriously need to get over, Y/n.” Thomas sighed, turning to Vinnie from the passenger seat. “What happened between to you two happened for a reason. You just gotta let it go.”

Mia scoffed from beside Vinnie and slapped Thomas on the shoulder. “Thomas, it’s not that easy!”

“I’m just saying, if it were me, I wouldn’t be all upset and everything.”

“So, you’re saying if we broke up…you wouldn’t be sad?” Mia responded sharply, obviously joking.

Thomas nearly choked, looking back at his girlfriend. “I-I’m not saying that. I mean, if…it’s just that…it’s different, okay. He cheated.”

“Did you have to bring that up?” Mia rolled her eyes and turned to Vinnie. “Don’t listen to him, okay. It was your relationship, and sure you messed it up, but…you still can be sad about it. I think.”

Vinnie huffed and stayed silent, no bothering to listen to anyone. He didn’t need people reminding him of his mistakes, that was the whole reason why he was being a downer. He just couldn’t forgive himself. There were no ounce of words or speeches that anyone could give him that would make him feel better. This was just something that he’d have to get over with time.

It was only minutes before they pulled up to the packed mansion and stumbled out of Alex’s car, Vinnie being the last out. He watched as his friends rushed to the house before heading inside. Upon entering the house, scenes of people grinding and drinking came into his sights. The sound of trap music filled his ears as the strong stench of weed brushed across his nose. He sneered before walking to the backyard. He scanned the area for any sober person he knew, hoping to find someone to complain about his situation to.

As he searched, his eyes landed on a familiar head of y/h/c hair. He furrowed his brows, trying to get a better view of the person. “That can’t be who I think it is,” he thought to himself as he moved in closer.

That was when you looked to side, and he caught a glimpse of your profile. His heart nearly stopped beating the minute he saw your face. He breathed hitched in his threat as he tried to keep himself from hyperventilating. He never thought he’d see you again, yet here you were…just a few feet away from him. He had forgotten the fact that you two had mutual acquaintances, so it came to no surprise that you’d come to this party.

Vinnie watched as you threw you head back in laughter at something one of your friend’s said. There wasn’t much he could do but stare at you. He didn’t know what to do. It’d be risky to even think you’d want to talk to him, so he refrained from walking up to you. He didn’t want to bring up painful memories. It was a good thing you hadn’t seen him yet.

---------

“You’re joking!” You smiled. “Come to think of it though, Bryce would be the one to try and drink tequila off your tits.”

Your friend, Y/bff/n snorted, “I know right!? I was like…sir, I am not that kind of a girl. Please have a good night.”

The two of you continued to laugh at her situation before you heard her go silent. You calmed yourself down, looking at her shocked face. Confused, you followed her eyes and turned around to see what had her so shook up. At that moment, your eyes met the very person you had least expected to see tonight…

Vinnie.

He was staring right back at you. The minute he realized you were looking back at him, he nearly freaked out. He attempted to look around, playing as if he hadn’t been eyeing you, but you had already caught him in the act.

“Is that…?”

“Vinnie, yep. That’s him.” You said, placing a hand on your hip. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”

Y/bff/n snickered. “It’s a party, Y/n.”

“I know that, but I honestly didn’t expect him to be here tonight.”

You two watched the boy look around frantically and you couldn’t help but smile a bit. You missed him and judging from the sight in front of you…it seemed as if he did too. But still, you were a bit out of the loop. Who’s to say he hasn’t already moved on. You couldn’t intrude on his happiness, that wouldn’t be fair.

“You should go talk to him.” Y/bff/n said.

You looked at her with your eyebrows raised. “You really think so?”

“It’s obvious he’s still into you, babes. And considering the fact you’ve been looking at him with those goo-goo eyes, I think you’re still into him too.”

“I don’t know, Y/bff/n. I mean…what if he’s seeing someone else.”

“There’s no way. If he’s trying that hard to pretend that he wasn’t just staring at you, he’s still hung up on you. And, even if he is seeing someone, that doesn’t mean you can’t just go and talk to him.”

You shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”

“Atta girl. Oh, and on your way back, make sure you grab me one of those little mini cakes. I’ve been craving one since we got here.”

Rolling your eyes at the foolish girl, you proceeded to leave her side and head over to Vinnie. The moment he saw you, he practically froze. You could tell he was nervous; his awkward stance and wide eyes told it all.

Within seconds, you stood before the boy, a slight grin on your face.

“Hey, Vinnie.” You greeted, placing your arms behind your back.

“Y/n, didn’t see you there!” He laughed. “Well, I did see you there but like, I wasn’t watching you or anything…yeah, totally wasn’t watching you.”

Your smile grew wider. “Yeah, sure. So, how’ve you been?”

“Good, uh…definitely good. You?”

“Um, my classes are going well, and I just got a new place…so, can’t complain.”

“That’s dope, Y/n. Glad to hear you’re doing good.”

You nodded, looking down at your feet. “Same to you. I’m sure you’re, y’know…enjoying everything with your girlfriend.”

Vinnie looked at you with a puzzled expression, your statement taking him back a bit. To be honest, he couldn’t be surprised that you thought he’d be taken by now because he thought the same about you. However, at the same time, with the way he was acting right now, he was shocked you didn’t realize he was still head-over-heels for you.

“I don’t, um…I’m not seeing anyone.”

You grinned to yourself, trying to keep your cool as you tilted your head at him. “I’m sorry, I just thought you’d be with someone.”

“It’s fine. I definitely get it. To be honest, I thought you’d be here with someone.”

“Technically, I am.” You replied.

It was at that moment Vinnie felt his heart explode and despair run through his system. He weakly put on a happy face, shooting you a thumbs up.

“That’s g-great.”

“Yeah, Y/bff/n just was dying to come with me. She’s been begging to go to one of these parties, so I thought why not?”

“Oh,” Vinnie breathed, feeling his heart piece itself back together. “So, you’re not seeing anyone?”

You shook your head. “Not right now. I’ve been on a few dates and stuff, but no one has ever made me feel like y-”

You stopped yourself, locking your lips together to keep that last word from leaving your mouth. You didn’t know why, but something in you didn’t want you sharing your feelings with Vinnie. Maybe it was the small ounce of hurt that clung to your heart like a child from Vinnie’s infidelity. Or maybe it was the slight fear that he may not want to get back together. There were so many thoughts in your head, all speaking at once. It was so loud, that you didn’t even catch what Vinnie had said to you.

“…and-…Y/n? You listening?” He tapped you gently, bringing you out of your head.

“Sorry about that. I was in my head for a moment. What were you saying?”

“I was just saying that I’m sorry for what I did. I was just so confused on where we stood in our relationship, not saying that it justifies my actions, but instead of coming to talk to you, I went and…well, did what I did. Believe me, I never meant to hurt you, and I totally understand if you don’t forgive me.”

You sighed, “I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t know where our relationship was headed either. Honestly, I was planning to break up with you that night.”

“And I ended up giving you even more of a reason to do so.”

You both laughed before meeting each other’s eyes.

“I wish we had talked about it, y’know? Communicated and all of that suff. It would’ve saved us both a heap of heartache.” You continued. “I can’t lie, even though life has been good, it sucks not being able to share it with you.”

Vinnie smirked, taking your hands in his. “Y/n, ever since we broke up…I haven’t been able to think about anything but you. I hadn’t streamed, I barely left the house…I couldn’t do anything. I just didn’t know how to function without you. You have such a hold over me…I didn’t know how to get over you.”

“I guess this whole goodbye thing really wasn’t a good idea after all.”

“No, I think it was. I think it happened for a reason. That reason being, so we can fall in love all over again.”

At this point, you were a smiling mess and there was nothing you could do to hide it. Vinnie wasn’t any better, you could tell he was in pain by the way he hadn’t stopped showing his pearly whites. It clear to both of you now that you two were still in love, if not more than before.

“That’s so sweet, Vin.” You said. “But also, cheesy. You were always the sappy one in the relationship.”

“As if, Miss Hopeless Romantic. I’m not the one who freaks out over Valentine’s Day.”

“Mmhm, sure you don’t.”

The two of you stood there for minute in silence, your hands entangled, and your gazes planted on each other. It felt good, and it was almost as if all that hurt…that fear…it was completely gone and now replaced with passion and security.

“Y/n, I know you probably have some resentment towards me, but I love you too much to care. So, if you’re willing and there’s enough forgiveness in your heart…I wanna restart, right from the beginning.”

Without much thought or hesitation, you said, “We can restart. For sure.”

“Well, in that case…Hi, I’m Vinnie.”

You smiled as the feeling of love washed over you. To say you were happy was an understatement, you were in paradise. Life was great, and now you had your boy back to share it with.

“Nice to meet you, Vinnie. I’m Y/n.”

[redrobin-detective]

handknit sweater, never worn

How did Valerie end up in these kinds of situations? Of course there had to be a large scale ghost attack at her school. Val had gotten rid of most of the ghosts, weak mindless things when part of the auditorium collapsed, trapping her inside. Normally she’d blast her way out but the old building was creaking ominously from who know how many fights. Her rockets might collapse the whole south side of the school, meaning she was stuck here while the Fentons cleaned up the rest of the small fry. And to make matters worse, Danny’s dad had had the brilliant idea to put up a portable ghost shield around parts of the school to contain the ghosts. Meaning Phantom and the spooky vampire ghost were stuck with her too.

“Ugh this sucks,” Phantom whined, leaning petulantly against the ghost shield. His arms were crossed and his eyes lidded with annoyance, he almost could have passed for a normal, annoyed high schooler if you ignored his unnatural glow. “They really increased the power on these shields, I hope they’re okay out there by themselves. I think most of the students were evacuated already.” He glanced subtlety over at her which only increased her irritation. It was so aggravating he knew everything about her while she knew nothing about him.

“Madeline’s handiwork no doubt,” The vampire guy, Plasmius, commented flippantly. “I don’t believe Jack could assemble a sandwich without her assistance.” Phantom bristled a bit at the comment but just turned to glare at empty air. While she’d once mistaken them for friends, it was clear there was serious bad blood between Plasmius and Phantom. 

“What are you even doing here, Plasmius?” Phantom hissed, crossing his arms closer to his chest in aggravation. “I’ve told you a million times to stay out of Amity.”

“Or you’ll do what, dear boy?” Plasmius grinned, flashing his fangs, like Phantom had told a particularly funny joke. Val privately considered the ghost boy to be one of the strongest ghosts she’d ever fought so if this guy was treating him like an annoying fly... Valerie kept her weapons up just in case but otherwise stayed away from the two volatile ghosts. She could take them down if she had to but there might be collateral. Right, that’s what she was going to go with.

“Actually,” Plasmius said, his cruel red eyes twinkling with smug glee. “I popped into town to check in on some of my old college friends. See what they’d been up to while I’d been busy with my various projects.”

Phantom kept his casual posture but went rigid, he did a quick glance over at her before moving back over to the ghost. “Now? You’re doing this now?”

“It’s always a good time to hurt you and besides,” another throaty chuckle, “I thought Ms. Grey might be interested.” Ok, was there any ghost that didn’t know her identity?

“Anyway, the wife was out but I found my fat, stupid old friend,” another twitch from Phantom, “back at his old favorite past time of knitting. It looked like he was making a sweater.”

“You’re a real bastard, you know that?” Phantom hissed, his form looking more and more defensive by the minute. Valerie had no idea what they were talking about but it clearly was upsetting the Ghost Kid. Usually she’d be pleased but it was kind of uncomfortable to watch.

“Hmm,” the vampire ghost hummed, still radiating cruel satisfaction. “I’m sure you’ve seen it too considering how often you’re in that house. He was working so hard on it, so furiously. No doubt trying to get it done in time for Christmas. A beautiful, handmade sweater for his wayward son who’s never going to get the chance to wear it.”

Oh shit, Plasmius was talking about Phantom’s dad. She’d assumed the beef between them started once they’d become ghosts but clearly there was history that extended to when they’d both been alive. Imagining Phantom alive, with parents... it was too weird.

“Shut up, I’m going to wear the sweater,” Phantom muttered weakly, curling in on himself. He’d scooted as far away from Plasmius as he could get. 

“Oh but he’s not making it for you, Danny Phantom,” Plasmius lilted with a smirk causing Phantom to wince. “He’s making it for his normal, human son who he doesn’t even have the brains to realize doesn’t exist anymore. Would he bother to spend so much time and energy on a sweater that could only be worn by a ghost? To see proof of his own failure as a father?”

“Hey, it was my fault,” Phantom defended, finally snapping out of his sad and guilty funk. He balled his fists and glared at Plasmius with all he had. “I don’t blame them for what happened, I love them and they love me and nothing you say will ever change that!”

“Then why don’t you tell them, Daniel,” Plasmius asked with a raised eyebrow. “If you’re so confident in their love, then tell them. Tell them the sweater is pointless because you thrive in the cold. Tell them that their mistakes and negligence led to you becoming an unnatural abomination not fit to exist in either world.”

“Only-” Phantom’s voice caught and he cleared his throat and tried again. “Only if you tell them first. You may have been their friend at one point a long time ago but all you’ve done since then is hurt people, hurt me. For all their flaws, I don’t think they’ll ever forgive you for that.”

“Touché, son,” Plasmius scoffed. “Now then, I’m afraid our discussion will have to continue another time. I believe the power on the ghosts shield should be fading right about...” a low whine and the green wall surrounding them disappeared. “Ta ta for now you petulant child. Ms. Grey, a pleasure as always. Be careful with this one, he’s an experienced cheat and a liar.” With those parting words, Plasmius disappeared in a swirl of pink.

Valerie thought Phantom would leave too but instead he let out a long breath and ran his gloved fingers through his hair. After a moment he straightened himself up and looked as cool and confident as he ever did. 

“The Fentons have probably rounded up the rest of the ghost but we might as well check, you check by the cafeteria and I’ll go through the classrooms.”

“Why?” Valerie found herself asking, not sure what she meant. Why did Phantom die? Why was he so afraid to let his apparently still living parents know what happened? Why did he try so hard to help people when everyone, including her, was so against him?

“It’s the right thing I guess,” Phantom shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck. “My uh my parents raised me that way and if it lost that after everything, well, then the person I was before really will be gone.” He floated over to her, gently phasing them both through the wreckage connecting them to the rest of the school and, for a second Valerie saw a scared, human kid in over his head. Then the illusion was gone and it was just Phantom, annoying as always.

“Check the classrooms and if there’s no ghosts then I’m gunning for you,” Val said instead, activating her hoverboard and speeding off before he could answer. She readied her weapons and didn’t think of childless parents living in ignorance of what they’d lost or lonely sons who were too afraid to ask if their parents would love them even as a monster. 

She just wanted to get the ghost scum out of her school and move on with her life. But still, she couldn’t help but think that, come Christmas time, she’d find Phantom in a handknit sweater intended to ward off a chill he could not longer feel. 

[iibonniee]

Happy Birthday Hyungwon (Chae Hyungwon drabble)

A/N: Aha I need to get out of this writing funk 😕 I’ve been so stressed with school it’s driving me wild. I’m like 80+ years late for his birthday (when can I ever post when I say I do? That wouldn’t be a me move) but it’s posted regardless. I swear Changkyun’s will be posted (hopefully) on his actual birthday. I also hate how it’s so short. Like I really went all out on Minhyuk’s and Kihyun’s birthday then there’s Hyungwon. Literally my second favorite member but we won’t speak about it. I also hate how this ended tbh I might re-write it.

Upon his early arrival home, Hyungwon attempts to help his girlfriend bake his birthday cake. The introductions never said to dump flower over each other and eat the batter, however.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 0.8k

Masterlist

E/C eyes focused solely on one thing, and that one thing was getting the perfect measurement. Her lip was caught easily between her lips as her focus was solely on that simple thing. The soft music that played lowly in the background now forgotten as she attempted what was to assume to be her fourth measurement.

Happiness shot through her when she noticed it was just about perfect.

Smiling to herself she repeated the process one more time just as the instructions told her to. She was undoubtedly nervous about what her boyfriend would think upon his return home. In truth, she was never all too good at cooking. Especially when it came down to sweets. Asking his bandmate would defeat the whole purpose of this birthday surprise. So she attacked the challenge alone.

“Y/N? I’m home.” The sound of Hyungwon’s voice traveled throughout the apartment and into her ears. Slightly cursing to herself as panic filled her blood, she licked her fingers turning towards the direction of her lover's voice.

The simple question was: Why was he home so early?

Her eyes flicked from the bowel on the counter to the kitchen door. There was no doubt he was making his way to where she was. The silence that came from here wasn’t the dead giveaway. It was simply the light and the soft melody of the music.

“I was calling you.” Hyungwon laughed as he rounded the corner. His smile was wide. It always was when he saw her. The moment their gaze met his brow tugged upward in question. “What’s this?”

Upon hearing his question, she groaned out. Shoulders falling slack in defeat.

“It was going to be one of your birthays presents,” She frowned, turning her attention back to the abandoned bowl. “But you came home early and ruined it.”

His chuckle was heard easily over the soft music. He was closer, she noted. If his close sounding chuckle wasn’t the dead giveaway. It was the way he wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her body closer to his own.

“I’m sorry love,” His words were mumbled as his lips pressed soft kisses to the back of her head. Upon feeling his lips against her head, the frown that laid soft on her face slowly etched into a smile. “How about I help?”

His proposal seemed rather nice. But his “help” often led to a disaster. On her own she could manage. She wasn’t good by all means, but she also wasn’t Hyungwon bad either.

“I…”

She started, unsure whether or not to simply decline on his offer to join. His whine however cut off her train of thought.

“It’s my birthday. Please?”

She turned in his arms, a fake pout evident on his beautiful face. Of course, he pulled the birthday card. The card that ultimately had her admit defeat.

“Ok, fine. But you’re helping Chae Hyungwon! And no fooling around.”

It was only ten minutes in had she regretted her decision. It was the fastest she had regretted agreeing to do something since she had started dating Hyungwon but her regret was justified. She had turned her attention away for only a mere moment hoping that he could take care of mixing the batter together while she focused her attention elsewhere when she flinched, the sudden feeling of the white powder clinging to anything and everything it could.

Did he really just…?

“Hyungwon…” She let out slowly. Her eyes flicked between the small cup held firmly within his hand to the growing smile that he tried so hard to contain. “What did I say?”

Her question was ignored in favor of laughing. His laughter filled up the kitchen with ease, easily overtaking the music that was playing. She huffed, grabbing some flour and tossing it at him in return. His eyes quickly flashed with different types of emotions. First confusion, then shock, and lastly happiness.

“It’s on!”

It was her turn to join in on the laughter. It was no surprise they both attempted to reach for the once forgotten bag of flour. Ultimately the winner being her lover who was just a bit stronger than her.

It didn’t take long for the kitchen to fall victim to a floury mess. Each second the couple yelled nonsense amongst each other with bouts of laughter to follow behind.

“Ok, ok!” She cried after a minute. Her hands were held in surrendering as she rounded the corner to face him. If they continued on anymore their whole apartment would be a mess. “You win.”

“The winner gets a kiss then. And we get to eat the batter together.”

She smiled, happy with the terms given.

“Alright, I can work with that.” One giant step had her arms wrapping around his neck, their lips meeting with a quick peck. “Happy Birthday Woonie.”

[vendettaparker]

Talking to the Moon [P.P]

Summary: When Peter’s identity is leaked, he is forced to leave you and his old life behind, shattering your heart in the process. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: ANGST, like straight up rip your heart out. Far From Home spoiler (kinda), Endgame spoiler (kinda)

a/n: so if you couldn’t tell this is based off of the song ‘Talking to the Moon’ by Bruno Mars. its a loose interpretation. i’ve been planning an angsty fic like this for a while. angst is my favorite genre of fic, especially when it has a hopeful or fluffy ending. so this one DOES have a hopeful ending and potential for a sequel,, so yuh, enjoy! <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Three years, two months, and 14 days. That’s how long it had been since Peter’s identity was leaked. That’s how long it had been since he left you. For good. 

     Peter had been frantic after that news broadcast aired. He webbed back to the compound immediately, crying the whole way. He was scared for himself, sure, but the fear he felt in the pit of his stomach for May, Ned, MJ, you. That was the reason for his tears now. He could hardly breathe by the time he made it to the compound. Happy, Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky meeting him as he burst through the large floor to wall windows in the main room. The frantic yelling, pleas, and cries coming from the main room were what alerted you to his presence. When you walked in he was a mess. Crying, heaving with anxiety about how scared he was. Peter had always been a sensitive, emotional boy, but he always got over his shit eventually. But this? This, seemed like the end for him. 

     You ran up to him, shushing him and holding him. Trying to tell him to simply “breathe”. All he could say, over and over again like a mantra was a schloo of “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your heart broke. How could fate be so cruel to the sweetest boy? The one who was the most deserving of all the happiness life could possibly offer. The rest of the team had shown up within the next hour. Happy, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and Pepper also present. Peter had calmed down slightly, but he knew, he just knew, this was the day he had to say goodbye. He had had this talk with Mr. Stark back when he had stopped his first villain, Vulture. Tony knew the type of sick monsters out there who would love to get their hands on the boy behind the Spider-man mask. He and Peter had developed a plan in the tragic case that Peter’s identity should be released, at least, not on his own terms. Tony’s plan was for Peter to run away. Leave. Take nothing with him but the clothes on his back, and even then burn those clothes the minute he could. Tony knew. He knew these dangers. And worse, he knew the consequences. 

     May had come to the compound the second she got the call. She knew as well. Peter knew. She knew. Tony, even in his grave, knew. Everyone knew. Everyone but you. 

     Peter had a getaway car and a destination ready within another hour. He wouldn’t disclose it to anyone. He took you aside, gently stroking your cheek to wipe the hot tears that never seemed to cease. “Hey, hey, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.” He whispered, choking up on every other word, trying to be stronger, just a little stronger, for you. “I have to go now. I’m so so sorry. I love you so much.”

     “It’s okay Peter,” You sniffled, pushing his bangs back and giving him a sad smile. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be here when you get back. Don’t worry.” 

     Peter’s lips quivered and he heaved another sob. “No, (Y/N). I-I’m not coming back.” You took your hand back as you felt the pressure of tears building behind your eyes. 

     “W-what? No, this—it’s just temporary. Until we can—Fury and Pepper—We can fix this.” You stuttered anxiously, hoping your words would convince him that this was okay. That everything would be okay. 

     “We can’t, (Y/N). It’s done.” Peter spoke, his voice hardly making it to a whisper. 

     “No!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to hold him closer. “Please. Please. Please. I-I can’t! You can’t! I—You’re all I have!” You were sobbing uncontrollably now. The weight of the situation finally caving in and crushing your heart and soul. “Please! I’ll do anything, I’ll protect you! Please!” 

     Your meltdown didn’t help Peter one bit, if anything, seeing how desperate you were to keep hold of him, to just love him; that broke him more. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. Please.”

     “How can I? You’re killing me.” You whimpered into his chest, tears soaking through his black sweatshirt. “I can’t— I just— I can’t!”

     The whole team heard. No walls were thick enough to block out the heartbroken sobs from the two teenagers in love. Fury was the one to finally bring an end to it. Nobody else having the heart to pry you from each other. Even Fury felt his own stoic exterior cracking. 

     You were in hysterics, clawing, and grabbing at Peter’s sweatshirt, hair, face, anything you could grab. It didn’t matter if you hurt him at this point, he’d heal. But if he left you, you knew you’d never recover. Fury had put you in a chokehold while yanking you back. Peter just heaved and heaved, his sobs getting louder and his chest getting tighter. May rushed over to him and took his hand, placing his head in her chest. 

     Fury yanked you back more, but you still refused to quit. Fury released his chokehold, not wanting to do any real damage to you. Right as you were released, Wanda came up behind you and placed her hands on your head, red magic already starting to swirl. 

     “No, please.” You wheezed, trying to get a fresh breath of air. “He’s all I have.”

     Wanda looked at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.”

     Without so much as a flick of her wrist, you were out, descending into darkness. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter left after that. The car taking him away, and you hadn’t seen him since. As the months went on you never really recovered. Never really felt whole again. You just survived. That was all. You went through the motions of everyday life, but never truly felt like you were living. Two weeks after Peter left, May left with Happy. They moved to California, living there ever since as well. They got married last year. You were all invited and everyone went. Everyone but you. You missed May and Happy, but it still hurt. Plus, you were busy anyway. After you graduated high school, you flung yourself into the avenger lifestyle, fully immersing yourself in it. You went on every mission possible. Did all the paperwork you could. You did anything and everything you could to keep yourself busy. Stop yourself from feeling the pain that had stopped feeling like a searing stab and had now turned into a dull ache. A new constant in your life. 

     Nights were the worst though. The only time you couldn’t be constantly avenging or working yourself to the bone on new suit technology. The only time you had to think and feel. The only thing keeping you going was the hope that Peter was still out there. Somewhere, anywhere, missing you as much as you were missing him. Watching the same moon you watched. Basking in the same sun that shined on you every day. Every horrible, miserable day. 

     “(Y/N)?” the quiet, soft voice of Pepper breaking you out of your headspace. You hummed a response and looked up at her, waiting for her to continue. “Did you hear what I said?”

     “No, sorry.” You responded sheepishly. Pepper’s gaze softened. She took in your lean figure and pale face, eyes seeming to be sunken in from the dark circles. “I was just finishing up this briefing of my last mission.” 

     “You went alone?” Pepper asked, concern washing over her features.

     “It was a simple one. Just took out a mob, was done in like, four hours.” 

      Pepper sighed. “(Y/N)—”

     “Pep, it’s fine. It was so easy, anyone could have done it.” You cut her off, turning back to your laptop, typing away. 

     “It’s not just that though. It’s all of this. This whole funk you’re in. The same one you’ve been in for years, (Y/N).” Pepper waved her hands around to emphasize her point. “We all see it. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. He wouldn’t want this.” 

     Your whole demeanor changed. The solemn, yet calm veneer breaking. “It doesn’t matter what he wants, Pepper! I didn’t want this. All I wanted was him. For the rest of my life. Nothing else would matter, as long as I had him to get me through it. But I don’t have him. I have nothing. He was it for me. He—” You sobbed, tears finally running down your face in an uncontrollable waterfall. “I feel like I died. Like I am just a spectator, no longer doing anything of interest to myself.” 

     Pepper pulled you into her so fast. She was always quick to console you. The months after Peter left she was the only one you could stomach seeing. “It’s okay. I know, shh, I know.” Pepper was tearing up now too. She knew you never got over it. But now seeing with her own eyes how broken you’d really become. The reality hurt. “He’s out there, okay? And it’s going to be okay. He’s okay. We’re okay.” 

     You just cried. That’s all you could do. The more you tried to talk about it the stronger the urge to cry was. Pepper just hummed and held you. Stroking your hair until you fell asleep. 

     When you woke up you were in your room. It was dark and the moon was shining through the opened window. You just stared at it, closing your eyes and imagining Peter was staring at it too. The same one. Thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Another few weeks went by. The same routine, the same empty feeling consistent in your body. Nothing changed. The revelation that you were, in fact, not okay didn’t fix anything. It still hurt. You were still broken.

     You were in the training room, sparring with Wanda when the melodic tune of your ringtone rang through the gym, echoing off the walls. You put your hands up in defense to stop Wanda from continuing the match. Wanda whipped her hands around and brought your phone to you in a wisp of red magic. 

     “Thanks.” You mumbled, wiping your sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand and taking the phone from the air. Wanda nodded and jumped out of the ring to grab her water bottle. 

     You looked at your phone still ringing, seeing an unfamiliar number, but taking in the location: Budapest, Hungary. You answered the call bringing the phone up to your ear “Hello?” You asked, shifting from one foot to the other waiting for a reply. A beat of silence pasted before you heard a tired, yet all too familiar voice on the other end. 

     “(Y/N)?”