#and i barely got anything useable

[femmeterypolka]

i HATE music

[weatherman667]

The Last Spell

Basically, everything that can go wrong with a game.

First off, the premise, The Last Spell. Basically, magic got a little out of hand, and basically created a nuclear holocaust. There are now only a few havens of Humanity left. The few surviving mages are working on creating The Last Spell, a spell which will end magic forever!

Why would I want to play a game in a setting with magic, and be on the side trying to stop the magic? It's like being Canadian and trying to do everything I could to stop hockey. The presence of magic is the only thing making this not be a zombie apocalypse game, and, in all honesty, that would be preferable.

Every haven apparently has the last mages making The Last Spell. Which would mean The Last Spell is not The Last Spell. It's like giving everyone in Super Mario a super mushroom.

I really hate when the entire premise of a game is the worst part of it. Like FUGA having a cannon that fires loveable war orphans.

Next, it was not designed for consoles, and the console controls are just terrible. At best it's barely useable, and at worst it makes every single thing you do frustrating.

Next, they heavily went woke, and have zero idea how to make female characters interesting. All it does is turn male characters into boring female characters. They could pick an ethnicity for each haven, and have all of the models be distinct. Step it up a bit by letting you use any characters you have unlocked. The removal of magic makes having women on the front lines to be so incredibly stupid, and doesn't make any effort to actually make them likeable or interesting.

Hell, XCOM2 gave the tutorial girl unique dialogue because of how memorable and popular she was.

If you are thinking about playing this game, I'd say play Disgaea D2 instead.

If you play it on the console, it's probably more playable, but I haven't seen anything to say it's good. The promise of the strategic gameplay added onto the tactical one is good, but this only works if some part of the game is actually good. XCOM2 has fantastic tactical gameplay, and deep strategic components. Nothing like Age of Empires of anything, but both sides are done extremely well.

Unicorn Overlord has the best tactical gameplay I've seen, but also has well done long term strategic elements.

The Last Spell instead is outdone by a twenty year old flash game that I would link if I could remember the name of. It was a zombie apocalypse, but the focus was on rebuilding. You had a walled off area. You could send fighters to scout surrounding areas, bring back supplies or survivors. You could expand the walled off area, (after first clearing it of Zombies). You build buildings, retrain people for different jobs, manage resources, etc.

(note: I apparently still have a login and password saved in my vault, but Newgrounds doesn't recognize it).

[songsofwaterandnight]

With discount season upon us, remember to avoid Google products, guys. Not because of data collection and privacy or anything like that. It's just that they're really really shitty.

Google's phone series and streaming devices suck but you'll see a lot of fanfare around them because tech bros love to circle jerk about how cool it is that Google makes hardware. In this manner Google is essentially the Tesla(MUSK not Nikola) of personal tech. I've used a Chromecast with Google TV(this is the name of the product and yeah I have to specify like that because the Chromecast by itself is a whole other device with different capabilities) and a Pixel and both felt like I was beta testing them because of all the bugs and barely useful features. When I would look online for fixes and tips I found that a lot of the issues and questions I had were widespread and Google either didn't care or would release updates that would break something else. That last bit applies to the phone more than the Chromecast. The Chromecast was useable but all the advertised features sucked real bad. (I've made a post about this before and I'll probably reblog it or make a new one with extra tech shopping tips soon) It blocks certain websites when you try to cast them and so on. You are way better off just buying a very long HDMI cord if your reason for getting it is to stream from your PC. The HDMI cable won't police your content and the lower latency (lag) is really nice.

The Pixel was a hot (quite literally) mess with lots of bugs that made it so unusable I traded it in shortly after I got it. Camera was great though. I will give it that. When it wasn't overheating or not messing with my calls, it would take some great pictures even in low light. It really can claim that whole best camera on android title. Shame about everything else around the camera though.

[stitchthesewords]

Any specific part of Iskall and Vault Hunters that you are feeing particularly normal about? Because I am very normal about the names of vault gems and vault gem ores. Also Iskall and the Vault Hunters sounds like a really cool band name.

Alas, dear anon, I have taken my Total Normalcy in a completely different direction. Observe.

Etho's hand was soft where it found itself just under the hem of Iskall's shirt. This was home. This was familiar. He nudged Etho's mask down, eyes tracing over the scar that went through his lip before leaning in for a kiss. Etho's lips were soft, pliable, and all Iskall could her was that his beard wasn't too itchy.

The cold seeping out from his gut was like waking up because he started falling. The familiar bite of something sharp buried in his stomach as the eyes of his loved one stared back at him. For a moment he couldn’t process anything but Etho’s face. A whimper made itself known past his lips, unable to ask the question he so wanted the answer to; ‘why?’

Iskall collapsed, the ground never coming to meet his body. Instead he fell past a cascade of familiar faces, familiar hands, feeling as cuts rained down upon his body as the hermits had their fill for blood. That was the only reason he was here. Bloodlust.

Iskall sat up in his bed, the quiet and desolate moon casting long shadows on the room. He clutched his chest, the other hand coming up to rub over his good eye. These nightmares were depriving him of much needed sleep. Ah well, there was always another day as he crawled free from the comforter to begin anew. To find better comfort in the arms of his lovers.

----

“You look exhausted,” Etho said, huffing and pushing some of Iskall’s hair out of his eyes. A tired chuckled pushed out of Iskall and dissipated into Etho’s chest. Iskall pressed his head just up into Etho’s neck, just a bit, feeling the soft fabric of his mask/shirt rub against his forehead.

“I feel exhausted, I suppose,” he replied. Iskall cleared his throat and turned to press a kiss into the underside of Etho’s cheek. “And - while this has been nice, I really need to get back out there...there’s so many missing still, and – Bdubs and Cleo need more materials to make half this base even useable.” He sighed and tried to lean away from Etho, but that masked man’s hand found its way to the back of Iskall’s head and held him in place.

“We’re all capable of doing things on our own, Iskall...You don’t have to do everything. Let them work, let yourself rest just a little bit longer.”

“The longer I rest, the longer someone stays trapped.”

He moved, just slightly, in Etho’s arms to look at the man’s face. Even with his mouth hidden, Iskall could see how worried he looked. “You won’t be any good to someone exhausted in one of those vaults...The two of us barely made it out when you saved me, how are you supposed to help someone in the state you’re in. Rest, let them build, let us work, let us help,” Etho shook his head as he spoke, his mouth pressed into Iskall’s forehead and the words escaping around the skin. Iskall took a deep breath, angry that he couldn’t really argue with that logic.

“...Only for a bit. Only for a bit, until I feel like getting back on my feet,” he muttered. Etho shuffled to free one of his hands and pull his mask down, wanting to kiss Iskall without the barrier in the way. He was beautiuful, was all Iskall could think as Etho dragged him up to give him a real kiss, one with all the love and support pulled into it the other man could muster.

He ended with his head rested on Etho’s shoulder and the sound of Cleo and Bdubs working outside broken up by the sounds of wind and wildlife before finally closing his eyes and letting himself be taken by warm, comfortable slumber. The first real sleep Iskall got since this ordeal began

----

"Wh-BDUBS- Oh my god-" Etho untangled one arm from where he pulled Iskall to safety in order to wrap it around Bdubs. His moss cloak was tattered and it looked patched up, but as far as Etho could tell, bdubs was okay. The shorter man scrambled to press as close to him as possible and it registered, as everyone talked over each other, that bdubs was thanking Iskall like his very life depended on it. Iskall, slumped into Etho's side, gave a small smile and a thumbs up. "I had to keep him from going into the vaults," Iskall muttered into Etho's shoulder. Etho couldn't answer, mouth blocked by bdubs's own, two small hands cradling his cheeks in desperation

----

"I'm going with you! The vaults can be run cooperatively and we have a better chance with two people going!" False snapped a stick and threw it over her shoulder as she spoke, watching the two ends disappear into the vault portal she blocked Iskall from accessing. "Then two people might die instead of just one! There's no point-" iskall huffed, trying and failing yet again to move around her. False was quick, stepping in from of him and shouldering him back from the portal. "Not gonna work on me, bud. I know what I'm getting into! I have all the same supplies you have. Let's do this together." False blew some hair from her face as Iskall started to argue. She felt the need to roll her eyes, looking back at the multichromatic swirls emminating from the portal itself. It felt like she was looking at her own stomach. With a deep breath in, iskall still trying to argue with her, she turned on her ankle and dived through before he could stop her.

[nobrain-nothoughts]

@a-mag-a-day for mag100

So I had this idea ever since I first listened to mag100, and thought this to be the perfect time to bother others with it. I don't know if it's something, I've just been playing around with it for a while

The archives clearly don't function without the archivist, and this doesn't sound very effective for collecting people's fears. So I think it would be incredibly funny if the archival assistants, in Jon's absence, had gotten some beholding powers, but barely useable and extremely unreliable. Jon in the beginning got really tired after recording statements, iirc, so the assistants would have that even more.

All of them trying (and failing) for almost the entire day to locate a statement someone from research requested, but it's not in Jon's mess, which is at least semistructured, but in what is still basically Gertrude's mess, so it could be anywhere. Martin decides they need a break, so he goes to make tea, but when he comes back, he blankly sets the tea down, walks over to a seemingly random cabinet, grabs the statement, hands or over to basira, lies down on the floor, and goes to sleep. (They almost go to the hospital, as he won't wake up, but they decide against it since anything having to do with the institute just lands people in the waiting room until they give up)

Melanie having a conversation with someone also working at the institute who she forgot the name of, and while she is trying to remember it The Beholding beams the knowledge of it into her head so hard that she falls down the stairs. (This time they do go to the hospital, in fear for a concussion and very carefully never mentioning the institute to any of the staff.)

Tim manages to compel one (1) statement out of someone, and sleeps through the entire thing. If you listen carefully to the recording you can hear him snoring.

[static-sulker]

Small things that got noticed (Science party!)

Basically a jumble of things that Dell and Ludwig noticed about the other after spending more and more time together <3

And yes I've done nothing but think about this for hours now

during a rather angry rant from a certain pissed off engineer--which in itself is rather rare-- Medic noticed how Engie had a habit of scrunching his nose up and almost squishing his face together. If you asked Medic to describe why Engie was angry at that moment, he couldn't tell you. But he could tell you that collectively he scrunched his nose about 48 times throughout the entire rant.

----

Dell noticed rather quickly into the relationship is that whenever Medic thought he was alone, he would talk to his birds. Dell was about to enter their now shared lab, but heard Medic complain to his dove Archimedes. For a moment, Dell thought that Medic had company but nope. Just a man with his birds

----

During a somewhat stressful and aggressive meeting of the administrator yelling at the team for losing...again....(BLU was just on a lucky streak, okay?) Dell took out a small pen from under the table, and quietly wrote on his forearm. It wasn't anything in particular, but a series of small models of his sentry's, his gunslinger, and a small doodle of a certain doctor. It was quickly smudged away after meeting the eyes of Medic.

----

Engineer realized that Medic wasn't the greatest at holding his alcohol. It was around a team break after a rather good day of fighting, and drinks were passed around. Medic was confident in his drinking, and started the night strong with a few too many glasses. Dell was great at holding beer, being on his ninth at the time that Medic was fully out of it. He was whiny and a very touchy drunk. He was basically melting onto Engie. He swatted at anybody who tried to talk or get close to Dell after that, and Dell didn't make a peep. He didn't try to do anything, knowing how intoxicated Medic was obviously. After the party,He got Medic into bed and let him rest. Needless to say, but the beers were not the only thing making the texan's cheeks pink

----

Very easy one they both agreed on is that they name a lot of their machinery and tools. Obviously there are the big brand names like the Quick-Fix and Gunslinger, but around the lab there are a some heavy duty machinery that have some sweet baby names or german names that Ludwig likes

----

Dell Is pretty hard of seeing. Even before the explosion that caused his right eye to become barely useable, he has to squint at fine print and don't get him started with somebody's handwriting. He was almost embarrassed by it, constantly brushing it off for lighting or the quality of the text. Nowadays, he bought reading glasses and Medic couldn't agree more that it's absolutely adorable. It wasn't any big move, it was slowly just happening in front of everybody and then bam it happened. Medic was very proud.

(I HAVE MORE BUT I'LL MAKE A PART TWO)

[nokingsonlyfooles]

The menus don't work, the menus don't work, the menus DON'T WORK...

OK, my few readers. I took a break, I went back to fix the navigation, it's unfixable as-written.

I need some complex stuff in places, I was willing to forgive WP for putting out a new site editing interface that barely works - as long as it has the basic features someone would use on a storefront. I'm an outlier. I know this.

BUT IT IS NO LONGER POSSIBLE TO CREATE A MENU WITH A WORKING SUB-MENU IN IT. IF YOU TRY, THE SUB-MENU LINKS ARE UNCLICKABLE.

I am using their site editor and their 2024 theme, I should say.

I crossed my fingers and looked for the (now liable to vanish from anything more complicated than a paragraph) "edit as html" option. Nope! It's gone! I can't fix it. I would have to hack the interface somehow to fix this for WordPress, within WordPress.

I had to go looking for plugins. I HAD TO GO LOOKING FOR 3RD PARTY SOFTWARE TO GET A FUNCTIONAL MENU. And, of course, they paywall features I need. I found a "floating" menu that actually does work well enough (it's a little cramped on mobile unless you put the screen in landscape mode, but at this point you should really do that anyway, I can only format so much) but the sub-menu function is paywalled. And I'm actually fucking tempted to buy (haha, I mean "rent") it. Because the damn thing works in dark mode and across devices. And it sticks to the side in a fairly unobtrusive way, which WP's menu will not. It won't stick anywhere. And it sure as hell won't do that thing where you scroll up and it plops down for your convenience.

But if I use that floating menu without sub-menus, it's gonna get longer, and longer, and longer, until it doesn't fit on your mobile screen anymore, or potentially your tablet or desktop, and then I dunno what happens. Also, in order to keep it small, everything is a cryptic icon that displays a title when you tap it (on mobile) or hover over it (on desktop). That's kinda counterintuitive, I don't know if I want my one working menu to be like that.

I might keep looking and find another plugin that also works that well but... it's not likely. Or, if I do, I may run into another paywall. They gotta get their rent somehow!

This is a stupid problem and so far I am unable to come with with a non-stupid solution. I can:

Put all the links in the header menu, and you'll have to scroll through EVERYTHING to find the actual content every time.

Put all the links in the content area, in different places and different combinations depending on the page. (And this would mean doing some reformatting on every instalment AGAIN.)

Start fucking around with the sidebar - I don't know if it works and I'd have to rip up every template I've already made to add it.

Put all the links in the footer menu, and nobody will notice them.

Put all the links in the floating menu (see above for the issues with that).

Make sub-pages for Misc/Notes and similar that are just lists of links and serve the function of a sub-menu.

Actually put the content on the sub-page and have it navigable via anchors (this seems like it would be a bitch to load, but most of my content is just text).

Make a list of links that isn't actually tagged as a menu, thus losing the collapsible function for small screens.

Kill God.

That last one is probably the most doable but I feel like someone would get mad at me. Like, Hazbin Hotel finally got its first season on Amazon, and if God dies they might have to rewrite some shit.

If I don't lay out the money for the cryptic icon menu, we're probably going to end up with three or four accordions that are not technically menus at the top of every page. And I'll hafta check back every once in a while to see if WP fixed their shit yet.

If they don't stick with that site editor and make it useable, all this work is going to vanish like chalk marks in the rain.

I WANTED to put up another six-pack in February. I have it ready to go! But the site doesn't work. If I can't fix it this week, I won't even be able to put things up without illustrations. And forget having time to fill in the missing artwork. I got enough to do trying to kill God!

[hearts4golbach]

Zombified. (Larry Johnson x Fem!Reader.)

part 7.

co-written by @cupid-isgone

we wandered down the empty streets of a miscellaneous ghost town. Shattered glass and destroyed cars covered most of the street, meanwhile the rest of the open road was filled with heads and other organs.

We wandered around, looking for some extra supplies and a place to spend the night. there werent much useable supplies, but we found a decent house in a saferarea to sleep. All The Entire town didn't have power, unfortunatly, but we had flashlights and stuff to make do.

larry held the flashlight to his chain, illuminating his entire face" how about we tell ghost stories?"

"I think we are already paranoid enough." I said bouncing, attempting to take the excessive weight off my leg.

"don't be a pussy, y/n/n." Sal pushed me gently, making sure to avoid my bandaged arm.

"its not my fault there's zombies literally everywhere, I shrugged.

"S'not my fault there's zombies literally everywhere," I shrugged. I winced as I half-tripped over my next step, barely catching myself. "Ow, fuck!"

"Here, let me help." Larry's voice softened as he wrapped his arm around my waist to steady me, like how he did before my injuries started healing at all. I rolled my eyes and feigned exasperation, but leaned into him a little bit anyway.

"you're so annoying." I complained. I mean, he was. but, my leg was also giving me a hard time.

"just for you, babe." he winked at me.

"I don't think that's how that works.." sal trailed off.

Larry shook his head and rolled his eyes. we had explored half of the town before nightfall with no sign of zombies; which is fucking hilarious because as soon as we had just got comfortable, we heard a loud moan come from behind us.

"Damnit!"

We had to rush into a nearby house to settle for the night, since it was too dangerous to keep going with my injuries holding us back. Larry was practically half-dragging me into the house.

Sal sighed heavily. "Well, I guess we'll have to stay here for the night. Larry, do you think you can get up on the roof through the second floor windows? We should check to see how many zombies there are."

"we could just take turns keeping watch." I brought up.

sal looked at me. "that's a really good idea. we could switch off every couple hours."

"and get some sleep." Todd added.

"sounds like a plan. me and y/n will take first shift. is that cool?"

"yeah, I guess." I shrugged. "are you two okay with that?"

"you don't have to stick with Larry, you can come with me and I'll make sal deal with him." Todd shot me a smile.

"uh- no. that's not how this works. you guys stuck me with y/n in the first place." Larry rolled his eyes.

Sal raised an eyebrow at him, but said didn't argue. "If you say so," he shrugged.

Larry helped me climb out the window and onto the roof without breaking anything. Why did we think this was a good idea? No clue. Thankfully, we both made it up there safely.

We sat staring down at the sea of zombies for a moment.

"Damn, we got lucky, huh? Just barely made it in time," Larry joked.

"yeah." I breathed, mesmerized by the hoard moving and melting together like a waterfall. "you think we're safe in this... house?" I wasn't sure whether or not to call it a house, considering half of it had been burnt down.

"oh yeah, we're good, babe. they don't know how to unlock doors." he joked, nudging my arm.

I rolled my eyes. "I know THAT, smart-ass. but if they can find a way, they will."

"we're safe, I promise. and I will protect you if shit hits the fan." he announced heroically, puffing out his chest.

"wow. my knight in shining armor." I said sarcastically, laying down on my back.

I put my hands on my stomach, taking a deep breath of the cool night air- mixed with the stench of zombies, of course.

Larry layed back next to me. We sat watching the stars in silence for a few minutes.

"It's warm tonight," I commented idly. I raised an arm and lazily traced vague constellations.

"Yeah. You can see the stars so clearly now, without all that light pollution." I hummed in agreement, still waving my arm slightly.

While the night was warmer than it had been previously, it was still chilly. I moved until I was pressed against Larry's side, lowering my hand to intertwine it with his.

"this is my broken arm, don't try anything dipshit." I spat, hoping to annoy him a little. I loved it when he was annoyed, the way his brows furrowed and pursed his lips together never failed to amuse me.

"oh yeah, cause I'm going to drag you off the roof or some shit." he retorted with an eye roll.

"I wouldn't be surprised." I snickered, laying my head on his shoulder.

"so you think I would push you off the roof like you weren't just eye fucking me earlier?"

I prop myself up on my good arm to see him better. "I have so many questions. 1, what in the ever living fuck is 'eye fucking.' 2, if anything, you've been eye fucking ME."

"eye fucking is when you mentally fuck someone while looking at them." he said matter-of-factly. "also, yes I have."

I slapped his arm. "you're so gross, dude. get a life."

"you are my life." Larry shot me puppy dog eyes.

"uh, that doesn't even sound right." I scrunch my eyebrows together.

"you're the only reason I haven't gone insane this past few days, does that make sense?" he gripped my hand a little tighter, like he was afraid that if he let go I'd run away.

"you have a way of changing the mood." I smiled softly, laying back down.

I gazed up at the stars, wondering if in some other universe that we were looking at the stars too. no zombies, no hatred, just a pure relationship, untainted by the stress and anxiety of our current world.

"whenever we save the world," he dreamed, "I'm going to take you out on a real date, okay?"

I looked at him, tears stinging the back of my eyes. "there's no way to save us, Larry."

Larry's face turned serious as he turned to look at me. "You really think that? Do you not have any hope for the future?"

I blinked back my tears and tilted my head slightly away so he wouldn't see. "It just doesn't seem realistic. Most of the world is dead by now, you guys are the first people I've seen in ages."

Larry hummed, seemingly contemplating something.

"Well, I think we can do it. Plus, maybe we'll just have to repopulate the earth ourselves-" I cut him off quickly, slapping my free hand over his mouth. I could hear his muffled snickers as he brushed my hand away. "In all seriousness, though, I think it's possible."

This time, the silence was more stilted rather than the comfortable atmosphere that we were in earlier. The moans of the zombies became ever more present as I shivered. Due to the cold or fear of the future, I couldn't say.

Everything felt so uncertain, I barely even knew what my relationship with Larry was, let alone thinking about the future beyond the apocalypse!

"...I promise you, I *will* take you out on a real date some day."

Instead of voicing my many doubts, I simply breathed in. "Some day."

-

my feet slapped the pavement, half limping as I ran down the bloodied streets. chaos spread quickly, as if the world had fallen out from under my feet *again.* Larry ran beside me, sobbing.

"what's wrong?!" I panicked, I had never seen Larry cry so hard.

"sal, he's g-gone." his anger clearly present in his voice, as well as greif for his step brother and best friend.

"how?" I choked out through pants.

I felt a flash of grief, Sal was my friend, after all, but I pushed it away. We weren't safe. I could feel my feelings later, I had to get Larry safe, first.

I gently grapsed his shoulder, trying to direct him towards a safer area.

Nowhere seemed safe, though, with zombies and pandemonium seemingly everywhere. We weaved through the streets, somehow not getting caught yet.

"They got him- There, there were too many, I couldn't save him in time, I-" he cut himself off with another violent sob.

"larry!" I shouted, trying to get his attention. "we need to take care of ourselves first, for fucks sake!"

he violently shook his head. "I can't do this without him."

"Larry, what the fuck are you saying!?" I asked as he slowed his pace, glancing back at the group of zombies not far behind us.

"y/n-"

"Larry, no! what are you doing?" I choked on tears, gripping onto his arm.

he came to a complete stop, looking between me and the zombies which were even closer now. he calmly sat down, closing his eyes.

"Larry, get up!" I shouted, sobbing. "please, get up!" I yanked on his arm.

he ignored me, lost in his own mind.

"no, no, Larry, baby, please listen to me. it's not worth it, get up! we can honor sal, he wants us to keep going! please just get up!" I looked back at Todd, who was further down the road. he was hunched over, panting and looking at me confused.

a strong force shoved me back. I began to fall endlessly, my stomach falling out of my ass as I fell into darkness with only Larry getting torn limb from limb in my vision. I screamed and kicked, but nothing happened. everything was quiet except for the snapping and tearing. I pulled my knees up to my chest. I felt like an empty shell, falling into eternity.

I choked on a sob, struggling to breath. It all just felt so *wrong*, like Larry wasn't supposed to just give up like that.

There was nothing I could do, though, falling and falling into oblivion.

I felt something hit my shoulder, jolting my broken arm as-

I bolted upright, clutching my injured arm to my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut as tears streamed from them. I bit my lip until it felt like it might split, desperately trying quiet my erratic breathing.

I could feel the roughness of the roof below me- right, I was with Larry! The cold wind hit my face, made worse by the fact that my entire face felt wet with tears.

I tried to focus on those feelings, to get rid of the lingering touch of the void. I was slowly coming back to my senses, but everything still felt *wrong*. Like I was forgetting something. Like...

Larry! My eyes shot open as I snapped fully back to reality. I'm surprised I didn't get whiplash with how fast I turned my head to look at Larry.

He was sitting in front of me, hands up at his chest in a placating manner. "That's it, in one-two-three-four, out one-two-three-four..."

I vigorously waved my hand. "I'm fine, what the fuck." I muttered, putting my head in my bends.

"if you're fine, then why are you shaking?" he looked at me like I was fragile, and I *hated* that.

"I don't know, shut up."

"y/n, tell me what happened. please, I'm kind of worried." he pleaded.

"i- I don't even know. I do not want to talk about it." I huffed, carefully laying back down.

"why do you push me away?" he asked, a pained look on his face.

I whipped my head to look at him. "I do not push you away."

"yes, you do. I try to talk to you about things you seem bothered about and you just brush it off. why do you do that?"

he stumped me. "i-"

"say I don't know one more time and I swear to go-"

"I wasn't going to say I don't know." I sighed. "I just.. don't like being vulnerable. I don't want to get attached and then lose you."

"you're not going to lose me." he cooed.

"no, Larry. fuck, you don't understand. something bad could happen at any moment." I explained the best I could. it was the zombie apocalypse, after all.

he stayed silent.

I took a deep breath and turned to look up at the night sky. I hugged my knees to my chest and let my eyes drift shut.

"I just..." I started, before recollecting my thoughts. "Everything is so simple, yet so complicated. I wish that made sense, but it's just how it is."

I heard Larry shift to sit next to me, hesitantly leaning against my good arm.

"I hate not knowing exactly what to do at any given time, like I used to." I groaned. "God, you just *had* to make everything so complicated, huh?" I said lightheartedly. I was too tired to deal with more emotions.

Larry breathed out a soft laugh. "My bad, let me just-" he stretched out, laying half on top of me and pushing me to lay on the roof again. He yawned obnoxiously, grinning at me.

"Careful!" I drew out, giggling. "I'm injured, ya' know."

"Oh, I never would've guessed, when did that happen?" He hugged me tightly, careful to avoid my injuries.

"You're the literal worst," I deadpanned.

I ducked my head to hide my stupid grin in his hair. I made sure to mumble one last thing before falling back to sleep.

"Absolute dumbass."

[vulpine111]

Not only am I ordering Jamie Stewart's memoir when I get paid again, but I am going to look into some spiritual supplies. I haven't forgot I want prayer beads for Ganesha as well as a saint Rita necklace. I think whatever new rosary I find will feature Santa Muerte, btw. I probably won't wear it much; I'll use it to pray regularly.

I'm not sure what my routine around mantra chanting and prayer is going to look like. Depending on how I feel, I would like to do one in the morning and the other at night, but my schedule is not like clockwork. Maybe just everything at 6:00am every day, then. My body is unreliable but I'm usually awake before the sun rises, at least.

When I first started listening to my favorite Ganesha mantra on YouTube like 8 or 9 months ago, I would grow sleepy afterwards. I'm not sure if it will give or take energy to say it out loud with the beads instead of merely listen.

On top of this, I'm interested in Buddhist magick too. Even though it seems incompatible with the Hindu energies of Ganesha.

I can't be a member of any single faith though. It's too limiting for me.

I found a candle associated with King Paimon I want to order next time or the time after that. I know demons aren't to be trifled with, obviously. I probably offended him when I originally asked him for help when I was 19 years old.

Now I want to figure out where to go from there. I feel like a prayer candle and some incense might be a good way to start a civil dialogue. I'm going to look on some poison path vendor sites to see if they've got anything specific for him. Otherwise, I will google "What incense does King Paimon like?" and see if any types I find useable in my apartment pop up.

I'm afraid anything too fancy that isn't just a simple stick or cone will set off my smoke detector. Maybe when Nate talks to me again, he will give me advice how to go about burning nicer incense without causing a scene. I wish I could ask Florian about this. Oh well.

I plan to ask King Paimon for help with not only my writing like I originally did, but also my visual art skills. I feel like he's trying to get me to focus mostly on words since I requested he make me a great writer.

I am not sure what exactly I want in regards to my writing. I was going to ask for "more direction," but I already have a bit of that. I have an idea of how my writing can be of use to other creatives. I have a general goal which to apply myself.

What is it I'm seeking, then? More drive/energy/focus? More inspiration? More favorable conditions to at least get more reading done? (Basically, less pain when sitting up.)

A muse is only as good as its questions. I can't simply say "make me more creative and productive." I need to elaborate or there's no point. It's hard but I need to think on this more.

Anyways, I found a little candle shaped like Ganesha I want to order. I don't know what the purpose will be. I'm still planning it.

I have a little Ganesha statue that still needs a mat to sit on btw. He's currently placed on the bare shelf which probably offends him. I better cut up an old shirt or something soon. Just to sit as a placeholder until I find something nicer.

[forestryfae]

honestly one rly hard thing to unlearn my brain that. somehow everything i want is high demand and probably like way too serious and somehow too much and i shuold manage without and theres no real reason i should need or want that cus i dont REALLY need it i wont die without it and its just. unattaineable and not even a question worth asking cus the default aswer is gonna be a no or you dont need that or if i somehow get whatever i want i need to live with the guilt of having it and the sheer guilt from having needed it and frankly i shouldnt even use it because i should do without it so ill only use it a little or even not touch it because that makes up for it and also i shouldnt really talk about it or anything its almost something i have to hide because its so shameful

and the thing i wanted and got will be like. pancakes for dinner or a slightly more expensive rice cooker or i decided to buy a specific food at the store that cost a little bit extra compared to cheaper alternatives cus i only like that brand or like. hair dye or a haircut or a heater when theres no heat anywhere or a shirt or pants i like and will in fact use and i just normally i think most people just get these things if they want it and can afford it and itll make their lives better but i see something i like or want or even need and i have this crushing guilt because nah man i should do without it i dont need it i have other stuff already. and i havent even gotten it. its bad to want things its bad to see something you want and then it results usually in not even trying to get something i need that will make my life better and easier or i go treat yourself or whatever ive been good at not buying anything i want that isnt food and then i spend way too much money on things i barely want

but yeah shoutout to my mom and brother and family for this. i know for a fact its something ive learnt from them. if i even look at something in a store and say its pretty im immediately hit with "you dont need it" or "you have enough stuff" instead of just. oh thats cool or oh yeah that does look nice. normal people tend to respond with conversational replies. not commands or judgement or unwanted comments on someones economic status or what they have in their home.

like. im even a little afraid to ask my legal guardian for money for food because im scared hell say no or start asking what i have in the fridge or cupboards and why i havent used that first. even to the point where im trying to rationalize why i cant make flour soup in case someone asks why i didnt just do that instead of. buying food. or being afraid that ill be told im asking for too much money and ive gone over my limit and ill get scolded for using too much money. like. he doesnt do that. hes never done that. hell gently give me alternatives. i still need to find a couch and ive looked at a store nearby that sells for cheap and i was like "do we have a budget" and he reminded me that theres a thrift shop and told me hed like me to check there first. hell tell me its my money and im an adult and i get to choose within reason what to spend it on. if i use a lot i think he might hit me up and be like hey whats going on with the spending but he doesnt like. scold or yell at me or get mad. his job is to help me and help me avoid financial ruin and help me have control over my stuff, not take over and be mean or deny me agency. he doesnt do that. its still scary but atleast i can trust that when i do it scared its gonna be okay afterwards.

still it really fucking sucks that my brain keeps working this way. like im doing something wrong at all times because i exist. needing food or spending money or even cleaning or having small moments of ocd and so on. its. not a crime to buy hairdye because the colors i already own arent the ones i want. or buy new pants cus my other ones are useable but uncomfortable because they dont fit as well anymore. and so on. its not a crime to buy new paintbrushes cus my old ones are worn. or buy a certain brand of food thats a lil more expensive cus i dont like the other brand thats cheaper. its. literally what normal people do.

anyways the bottom line is i think i gotta work on this a little and not be so judgey and try to catch myself and go hey be nice food is literally neccessary so you dont go into organ failure or starve to death people eat multiple times a day its actually weirder to not eat that often. clothes are supposed to fit. youre allowed to enjoy things. you dont have to suffer just because you can handle it youre not supposed to be in survival mode. i can afford to buy food im allowed to eat i can turn the heater on i can clean i can do stuff i need to do to take care of myself i can be mentally ill and get through it i can make choices i want to make. its allowed.

[weirdgirlblogging]

okay I got the one (1) note on that post so as promised here is the paper thing

I was created to be a perfect material; one anyone could use to do anything with. Draw, fold, bend into how they wanted, whatever kind of craft anyone could ever dream of. Cutting me up to make more pieces to use was also acceptable. Even though this was my destiny, I felt myself unable to achieve real goals. Other pieces of paper are used and can make beautiful creations, they have different colors and textures and can be folded to make the most beautiful paper cranes. I am so plain, in color and what I can do. So basic, no one thinks about picking me up to make anything of use with.

That was until you came along. You saw my potential; you saw me as something that could be made into something of value. I had some semblance of worth for once. For once, I felt like I could be more than just some lame lazily done creation. Even if I couldn't bend right, or that I accidentally would cut your fingers, you would stay and attempt to make me feel like the crafts I could become would be anything better than what I could have imagined.

That was when the new stack of papers came. They looked fresh and came in a multitude of colors. Pink, green, yellow-- hues that I just could not compete with. Others would use the stack to make such beautiful creations. There were so many different paper rings, origami jungle animals, and paper planes as far as the eye could see. In some ways, I think I always knew I was not going to be able to compete with them for much longer.

I did not, however, expect to be thrown away in the trash bin with all the other scraps of paper. Well, I had fears that you would someday do that, but I had not expected it to be so soon. At first your folding got lazy, with less care put into it than you had originally done before. Less care was put in to how I was put together.

That was when you finally told me that you were going to use the other, prettier paper. You crumpled me up and set me to the side, going on to make different creations with the prettier colors of the other papers. I could not believe you had decided I was worthless and plain as I had always felt.

I felt so angry. If you did not want to use me anymore, who else could possibly want me? You had folded, crumpled up, and discarded me; I was barely useable anymore. There was no way anyone would have any sort of way to fix me, to make me something gorgeous like how you had attempted.

You used me to the point where no one else would be able to even make a simple paper airplane out of me. I was not good for much of anything, and I blamed you for my feelings. You can’t just abandon me, alone on a desk to only acknowledge when you need me to move around to get out of your way. It got to the point where I fell alone to the floor, alone with the other scraps no one seemed to use.

I would lay there in my crumpled-up ball, occasionally picked up by other students to look at, to see what I was before dropping me back down. Some would use me too, only to throw at other students in the class before I would get confiscated. It would only take a while before I would fall back to the floor, thrown around again and narrowly avoiding getting picked up by the custodians.

I managed to fall, luckily, into spaces such as inside of desks and small floor corners to stay safe from being thrown away. From being permanently forgotten. When I finally made my home in the bookshelf, I could see you at your desk with the better creations, witnessing just how much adored they were than I had ever been.

As infuriating as it was, part of it was my fault. Was it not me who would fill your hands with paper cuts? Who would not fold up in the right ways to become the perfect craft? I had been too difficult to work with, so it was evident that there was no reason I deserved to feel as hurt as I did. You leaving for something less rough and hard to deal with was always inevitable, I just for some reason did not realize how quick it would happen.

After what seemed like forever, I felt myself give up on the idea that you would ever come back. That was okay, something I did not think I would ever accept. The view from where I was on the shelves was lovely, and the sour thoughts were slowly drifting away.

How could I be so sad about you leaving when I had such a wonderful view in front of me? Colorful posters, bright markers scattered near the whiteboard, and the hanging decorations the teacher had seemed to add for flair. It seemed stupid, but I finally felt some sort of freedom. Not to mention you didn’t have to deal with me being difficult anymore.

That was when you finally found me again. I had fallen from my beautiful view, not even caring anymore where I was heading next. Suddenly, you picked me up, starting to uncrumple me and smooth me out again. Was this your way of apologizing? I was not totally certain. In some ways I thought you were doing good to make everything up.

You worked tirelessly to try and get every wrinkle and line out of my bland material, trying to undo the damage that had been done. I guess that is the thing about damage though, it will always be there. No matter how much you press books down on me, or even use your own hands to attempt to get rid of them, the past fold lines will always be visible.

At this point, I will keep quiet and refrain from causing any more papercuts. You are trying, and that is what matters. But would you have returned to me had the colorful paper not stopped being fun?

Honestly, we will never know that. Not for sure. But you’re trying to make amends, and showing me once again I am not the blandest paper.

[creativebrainrot]

Open Journal Entry

long one. TLDR: This fucking house sucks and it's never felt like a home to me. I want out but the WAITING,,,,, its suffocating. we'll be out eventually. Im so sick of waiting though. I miss the. eight months, where I felt truly alive for the first time in my entire life. I want a car back. I want to move out. I want to leave all this misery and abuse behind us already. I want a life. I am going insane.

But the horrors wont fucking win because I am NOTHING if not fueled by spite and fury.

I wanna talk about my experience with this house I'm currently stuck in, and have been stuck in for 22 years now.

I do not have a single memory of feeling safe within this house, or a single memory of enjoying this house. I have memories of enjoying the wilderness nearby, the front yard, the back yard, the creek way out back. But not the house.

I felt safe in the bath as a kid. I feel safe dissociating in the shower. I have spent ages avoiding being fully-lucid in this house. Numbing myself by diving into video games, the internet, consuming media like video essays about random shit, political commentary, let's plays, etc. Anything that I could hide in and avoid being aware of my situation with.

Music and art were big ones for escaping.

Everything about this house is falling apart.

I finally felt alive for the first time in my entire life in 2022. And yet. 2022 had the worst months of my entire life within it.

And now. I'm stuck. Waiting. Again. Just like I have been my entire fucking life. Stuck, in the middle of nowhere, without people my age, without places I enjoy seeing, without people who care in my offline personal life.

Waiting. For the day my dad can tell me we are finally free.

We had no idea that we had so much legal bullshit we needed to sort after my father died in late january this year. So, we've had to deal with all of it; the confusion, the legal shit, the pain, the helplessness, etc, as we discover every new fucking step we weren't told about and couldn't find the answer to. because we're both neurodivergent, and traumatized. that affects a lot of what we are able to do and what we aren't.

I'm fucking tired of announcing what should be good news, over and over and over, only to find that there's more fucking waiting on the other side. Hope, hurts. Right now everytime I start to hope I start to hurt so i've just been living in numbness since march this year.

The pump & water is fucked up, we have to work around it. We have running water, but we have to turn off the pump everytime we're done using it.

The AC is broken. It was replaced a few years ago and now it's the wrong type of AC for our house. It doesnt fucking work and our bedrooms are little ovens because of it. I have had to move my mattress into my studio, the only room with a window AC.

I have been stuck with a fucking twin bed since I was 15. Which, while technically a useable size for me, I cannot begin to unravel and to explain the kind of demoralizing and humiliating being stuck with the same fucked up "not a real bed or Adult Mattress" is for me.

Fucking bugs get inside ALL THE GODDAMN TIME.

We haven't been able to work doordash for MONTHS now and I miss that routine so goddamn much.

I finally had a real life for the first time ever in my entire life, and its gone. Because we were lied to. Kept in the dark. Didn't realize how bad our situation was, until it was too late.

The only reason we are okay, is because of kindness from my friends and kindness from our neighbors.

I just want this to be over now.

I have never felt happy in this house. My dad and I never have the energy to clean it. I barely have the energy to take care of myself. I used to work out and exercise, I used to feel so happy. We ate good food and I got to cook and have fun and feel normal for awhile.

then the car broke down.

This house has always felt either neutral or fucking miserable. I've watched so many beloved pets die in this house. I've only ever been abused in this house. I've felt so fucking depressed in this house.

It's not even in an area where I can escape to a friend's house, or walk to a park, or enjoy any amenities. Because it's in the middle of fucking nowhere, retirement neighborhoods for rich old white republicans who wouldn't fucking speak to us if they knew who we really were. It's only because my dad masks as a ditzy old white lady that they're so nice to him.

I hate it here. I've been suffocating here long enough. I can't handle another year.

I think it might break me.

Everytime I'm remotely fully lucid in this house, I feel like shit. I remember things that I want to forget. I've dreamed of moving out and having my own place since I was a child. I thought my life would be better when I was 19- to be kind to fate, it was. Much better when I was 19. But not the normal fulfilling life I wanted to have.

I want out because everything we are currently dealing with is residual abuse from my father's financial abuse of us.

I need to leave this place. There's so much fucking sorrow and pain here for me that I just want to forget and move on from. not to mention this state it's self is fucking miserable to live in.

And, we will be. It's just the waiting. The waiting hurts. But I'd rather keep waiting for a brighter tomorrow than do something I can't take back.

I want to see our pets happy and healthy again, in a house with furniture for them. Collars with their name tags and vet tags on them. All fluffy and talkative and cute again.

I want better healthcare access so that I can stop panicking about my dad's mortality- he's fine, but I am so scared I'll lose him to something avoidable before we have the stability to get checkups and such. I want the option available to fucking transition already. I need HRT. Life is so fucking miserable everyday that I can't start being myself finally.

I want a house that I actually like. A place that represents new opportunities and new memories and REAL TRUE FREEDOM, freedom from all this abuse, freedom from my miserable first quarter of life alive. Freedom from debt that was never our fucking fault. A place I can be lucid in, and maybe actually have energy in.

And we'll probably get it. It's just, the waiting.

The second person we are attempting to sell this piece of shit to, is someone who purchases and flips houses for a living. He's offered the same amount of money as our neighbor did.

I'm so fucking glad that the paperwork is all on my dad's side and that we even HAVE a house to sell in this current climate.

Because that means we might get to move into the house my dad thought we were going to have all those years ago. I can't begin to tell you how many lies our abuser told us.

[vintagemiserie]

john has been forcing daniel and jamie to get along, and the only thing keeping daniel from hissing death threats at jamie seems to be getting him on a sheet of ice. daniel conned the rink into getting him a set of pads for jamie (read: politely called the rink's owner begging for a spare set the night before), and off they went. it was early in the morning, a few figure skaters were practicing on the main rink, so they shuffled over to the empty side rink.

jamie asks him at some point why he was such a weirdo about skating. like, it clearly wasn't a gay thing, otherwise he would have been a figure skater or something. daniel shrugs and rifles through his puck bag. "i used to be on track to go pro," he says. "went to a tryout camp with a whl team up in victoria when i was twelve or thirteen or something. cause scouts were worried about my size so i was never drafted. and i guess they were right and my doctor was wrong about how tall i would turn out. stopped playing organized hockey at like fifteen cause it pissed me off so much." he tees up a shot and it sizzles into the back of an empty net. "you try a shot," he suggests.

jamie for the first time could sense that daniel wasnt an asshole just for the sake of it. barely comfortable enough on skates to stand still without falling, he manages to at least get the puck moving in the direction of the net.

"it's just so fucked up, you know? i fucking clawed my way into that fucking camp. my dad was sending me all the money he could and it was barely enough to keep up with hockey. i was fucking skateboarding to my practices and games cause my mom didnt give a shit. i couldnt make friends for shit cause my parents werent there to force me to and i was scared of all of those motherfuckers. i put like, everything i had? everything i had into it. and i ended up fucking short and without any useable skills and any friends i was behind in school and... shit, man, i could have been in the nhl if my stupid fucking body didnt decide not to fucking grow."

daniel clears his throat and shoots another puck without much thought. "so, uh, yeah, you do, uh, you do any sports as a kid?" its not a big effort at small talk, but its the most hes made in the entire few months they'd known each other.

"played football for a couple seasons." jamie says. "usually as a safety, but i did whatever. i was like fourteen, nobody took it serious."

daniel laughs. "shit man, i played tight end and wide receiver when i played." he does a fancy bit of stick work before teeing up another shot. "good hand-eye, fast, too small to do anything else, you know? got tackled once and bounced my head real fuckin bad, stopped playing after that."

[go-follow-vibingouthere]

Kaimelia Fic Update/Sneak Peek

For anyone that cares...

I'm still writing the post 18x20 Kaimelia fic I posted about 2 months ago lol. Had a bit of an identity crisis after graduating college + the hyper fixation was becoming less... hyper, so I haven't actually worked on it since late June until this week. RN I've got ~3.5k words that are actually useable and good and another ~13k (I know 🙃) of... Over stuff lol (some of it's useable, some of it's redundant, etc.). I won't post it until it's done; I hate disappointing people and wouldn't wanna get anyone's hopes up just to never finish it. I am fucking DETERMINED to get this out before the new season starts.

However... Because I'm a glutton for attention and I know the fandom is in a drought rn... I wanna give y'all a sneak peek of the first 500 words or so. Without further ado:

Kai had never kissed anybody in the rain before… It was nice. Like a scene from a movie. Kai could imagine some grandiose love song playing in the background of this moment, the music swelling when Amelia’s lips met their own. Picture-perfect…

It had been a long day. A long few weeks, really. Whatever anxiety Kai had experienced during that dinner party, surrounded by Amelia’s intimidating web of a family, had only increased after their semi-break up on the swings; and, with it, came wave after wave of self-loathing, anger, and despair. They couldn’t eat, they couldn’t work, they couldn’t sleep, they couldn’t function.

Not even the paper being published—years and years of work and effort finally being recognized—was enough to lift their spirits. Every potentially happy thought about it—every stray thought they’d had since the last time they were in Seattle—just led back to her. Their text to her upon hearing the news (“thinking of you”) wasn’t a lie: if anything, it was an understatement.

The irony plagued them. They had once boasted to Amelia that they needed very little sleep to function and look where that had landed them: impulse buying a plane ticket to Seattle after another restless 24 hours, running through the airport to make it on time, all 6’ 1” of them jammed into a middle seat on a rickety Spirit Airlines flight, their hastily packed carry-on containing nothing but two shirts, pajama bottoms, underwear, and a toothbrush. All without a shred of hope to cling to that she’d even want to see them, let alone take them back.

But she did… at least, tentatively.

She was kissing them, in the rain, and Kai felt like they could finally breathe again. The risk of drowning at sea was averted: her presence alone pushed their exhausted, waterlogged mind back to shore. The monumental pain of their actions was gone. The weight and stress that had sat in their shoulders and upper back had finally dissipated. Relief flooded over them and they were left to ponder happier ideas… like which movies had the best rain kiss scenes.

(They managed The Notebook, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Spider-Man, A Cinderella Story, and that one episode of Friends before Amelia pulled away for breath, her forehead slumped against theirs.)

The rain was getting worse by the second; having started as barely a sprinkle, it was now quickly becoming a considerable downpour. They could feel their hair getting heavier, sticking to their forehead in odd spots, matted after Amelia’s handiwork.

Her hands eventually came down to rest on their shoulders. They stayed breathing each other’s breath, eyes closed and hands still, for a long time, quiet despite the environmental rage surrounding them…

They were tempted to kiss her again, being that close for so long. And they nearly did. Hesitantly brushing their nose alongside hers, receiving no comments or requests to stop, they brought their hand up to her cheek, ready to join their lips again and—

“Amelia!” someone called out from the hospital exit, their voice carrying over the dense rain.

The bubble popped.

Hope you enjoyed :) I hope to have it out in full beginning/mid-September.

[butwhyduh]

Hi if you still do request could you do a There is only one bed with Tim maybe with some teasing?

Warning: smut

“So it’s not ideal,” you said with a little smile that you covered with your hand. Tim was exasperated. You could slum it. He was not used to this.

Admittedly the cabin was worse that what you remember. As a kid, your family had visited every fall to pick apples and hike. Marshmallows by the fireplace before telling ghost stories and all.

But that was over 10 years ago and not in midwinter. Now the windows were boarded and the fireplace was barely useable. Which was good, as it was literally freezing.

When Tim had said he needed a place to crash after a mission for you both, you offered this place. It was only a few miles north of your location. But it was also trash. The couch leg gave way as Tim sat down and he almost fell to the floor.

“So this is technically a cabin in the woods. But I’d rather burn it to the ground,” Tim said. “I’m going to the bathroom, unless it’s an outhouse or just a hole in the ground.”

“No no. Real bathroom,” you motioned to it. He went in the other room. You sat on the bed, the only functional piece of furniture besides a dodgy table. You were glad that you brought extra sheets and the plastic protector over the mattress. After scrubbing the cover and putting on the sheets, you sat down to pull off your boots. Ice was still clinging to the bottom. You put them near the front door and stood by the fire. Tim came out changed into thick sweats.

“You should change,” he said, motioning to your suit. You turned away from him.

“Can you?” You asked about the long zipper that went from the top of your neck to right above your ass.

“Oh, sure,” Tim said walking close. There had always been some kind of sexual tension between you both but neither had ever acted on it. He looked at your black leather suit lit up in the firelight. It clung perfectly to every curve.

He delicately pushed your hair from the back of your neck over your shoulder and grasped the zipper. Tim pulled it down almost painfully slowly. You felt your skin prickle as he slowly touched down your back. His fingers hesitated to move away from your back. Tim pulled away suddenly and cleared his throat.

“Done,” he said in a lower tone. You turned back to see him standing so close. He watched you. Tim wasn’t particularly tall, only a little more than you, or bulky, with lean muscles. But he was so pretty with thick dark eye lashes and silky hair.

“You should probably get dressed. You’re cold,” he said noting the way your forearms shivered as they held the front of your suit up. You nodded and grabbed your clothing before heading to the bathroom. It was even colder in there. Frost covered the window and you could see your breath. You quickly dressed into pajamas.

In the main room, Tim was sweeping the floor. “Not that it doesn’t need it or anything, but why are you sweeping?” You asked.

“One bed. The couch is shit. I’m sleeping on the floor,” Tim said. There was no way you’d let him. He’d freeze with the draft and limited blankets.

“No way. Just sleep in the bed,” you said. He gave you a look you couldn’t comprehend before shaking his head. “Tim, you could freeze to death down there. I won’t let you,” you said trying to sound authoritative.

“I’ll be fine,” he shrugged.

“I won’t bite. Get up here,” you said sitting on the bed.

“Sure about that?” He said with a sly smile.

“Only on Tuesdays,” you said with a little smirk. He chuckled. “I’m not letting you sleep down there. My house, my rules.”

“Ouch. I guess I can’t argue with that, hu?” Tim said putting the broom down. He carefully climbed in the other side of the bed without touching you despite being a small bed. Tim laid flat on his back with his arms tight to his body.

You slid under the covers shivering. “Okay, I hope you’re okay with me stealing body heat from you because I’m fucking freezing,” you said sliding your back against him. Tim shifted to his side and you pressed against his warm chest. “I don’t know how you aren’t cold.”

“I’m from Gotham. The weather is terrible year round,” he reminded you. Tim didn’t lay his arms across you or anything but let you spoon against him. He was carefully passive like a gentleman. After a few minutes, you shivering stopped and you finally warmed. The pull of sleep dragged you under and you slept for a few hours.

The crackle of fire and gentle rapping sound of snow falling was the only sounds you heard in the early morning. Tim’s breath on your neck and arms wrapped around you tightly were very distracting. You resisted the urge to shiver at the sensation. How many times had you wanted this?

You shifted a little to go back to sleep and Tim’s hands wrapped tighter. One hand snakes down to cup your breast in sleep, pulling you flush to his body. You inhaled quickly and was wide awake. How could you sleep when the guy you liked was holding your actual tit? You tried to stay still but your body made small adjustments.

Tim made a soft “hmmm” sound and you froze. That’s when you felt it, he was hard. You felt like you were going to burst. He was holding your tit and rubbing his dick against you in his sleep. It’s just biology. It means nothing, you told yourself.

But you needed to get out of his grip because your body was definitely reacting to him. You tried to scoot your hips forward but this arms around you were clinging too tightly. Tim groaned and rubbed his cheek in your hair.

“Tim,” you whispered a little too breathless. He hummed again. “Tim,” you said a little louder.

“Is too early. Go to sleep,” Tim mumbled. He didn’t moved. You thought about trying to sleep but Tim was very distracting.

“Tim,” you said in a regular voice. He huffed.

“What?”

“You... you’re, uh,” you said unsure how to tell him. Your penis is rubbing up against my ass? You’re feeling me up in your sleep? “Let me go, please.”

“I don’t have you,” he protested before waking up more. Tim moved his head and opened his eyes. You could feel him freeze as he took in the situation. Tim quickly let you go and pulled back to one side of the bed. His face was brick red and his hips were almost falling off the bed trying to make as much space as possible between you both.

“Sorry! Fuck, sorry! I didn’t mean- how long was I-“ he said halfway freaking out. You turned to face him.

“It’s okay. Relax,” you said calmly.

“I don’t control when it happens when I’m asleep, you know?” Tim said sitting up and clutching the sheets hiding his crotch. You sat up and grasped the sides of his face.

“It’s fine. I know how biology works,” you reassured him.

“And I didn’t mean to grab you. I was asleep,” he added. “I swear I didn’t-“

“Tim!” You said finally shutting him up. He stared at you and gulped. Your hands on his face didn’t exactly help his uhh... problem he was desperately trying to make go away.

“What?”

“You. Are. Fine. I cuddled with you, right? Not super surprising. It happens,” you said and he relaxed a little. “It was kinda nice laying with you,” you murmured. Tim glanced down at your lips before snapping back up to your eyes like he broke a rule. “You smell nice. And you’re warm,” you added. You stared at his lips obviously.

“I got to ask, are you hitting on me?” Tim asked warily.

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, detective. I am. What are you gonna do about it?”

Tim smiled and grasped your face for a kiss. You pulled him down on top of you as you kissed. He inhaled quickly before adjusting to the change. His knees gently pushed between yours and you pressed your hips up against his and was rewarded with a groan.

You reached down to cup him in his pjs. Tim kissed down your neck and his hips pushed his cock in your hand with more pressure. His hand cupped your breast and squeezed.

“Do you want to?” He asked.

“Absolutely. Condoms are in the top zipper of my suitcase,” you said breathlessly. You’d be a fucking idiot to say no to the one chance to sleep with the guy you like.

“You came prepared?” He asked.

“They just stay in there,” you answered and he nodded before getting up to grab one. Tim turned around to blink a little as you were completely nude and staring up at him predatorily. He couldn’t say that it wasn’t hot.

“Eager,” he breathed climbing back over you, pulling off clothing. You shrugged. You took the condom from him to put it on.

“Do we need to-“

“Penis in vagina. I don’t need a ton of prep. I super appreciate the offer. Seriously, next time go nuts. But it’s like 5 degrees in here and I’m ready as hell,” you said and he almost laughed.

“Can do,” he said pulling the blankets over you both. He sunk in and you breathed out quickly. Tim wrapped his arms around you behind your back to kiss your chest and neck as he moved. It has you breathless. It was so intimate. He was completely pressed against you.

His lips found yours and he kissed you in pace with his hips rocking against yours. You bent your knees and you gasped as he was now rocking against a spot that had you seeing stars.

“There,” you breathed and Tim simply nodded. Fuck, it wasn’t going to take long at this pace. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you whimpered before clenching around him with his name on your tongue. Tim groaned and thrust through your high before finishing himself. He kissed up your collarbone and neck to your lips before pulling out to throw away the condom and pull on his pjs. You did the same in the chill.

He climbed back in bed and snuggled close. “Okay, yeah. It’s cold as hell,” Tim said with a little laugh. You laid your head on his chest and entwined your legs together with the blanket pulled tight and the cold was more bearable.

[storiesofsvu]

Brazen Qualities Ch 6

Warnings: language, politics

The following weeks Heather had either you or Cynthia with her basically at all times as she prepared for the caucus debate in Iowa. You spent far too many hours cramped in her small campaign office working through paperwork and speeches, gathering information on all the promises and plans that Underwood and Sharp had been announcing since the nomination race had began. In the hours that Cynthia wasn’t around, there were small mentioning here and there of the previous activities in Iowa, a little tease here or there. Just enough to entice one of you into a daydream as the other smirked over their words and the way your eyes would haze over at the thought.

That was of course, until today. You were dressed in your best suit, heels clacking on the floor of the White House. You’d been hesitant when Underwood had called you in for a meeting, completely unsure on what he could want. It was still slightly under the radar that you had been working with Dunbar, but of course there were the few of the tightknit crew that new, and you could easily pass it off saying that you were just her lawyer and had nothing to do with the campaign. You were on your way out of the meeting, thankful that your attention hadn’t been directed to your phone the moment you saw him.

Fucking Doug.

He seemed to be stumbling a little more than normal as he entered the Oval Office alongside Underwood. You ducked around a corner in hopes that Doug wouldn’t see you, pulling out your phone, hitting Heather’s name as you hurried your way through the halls.

“I hope you’re ready for the rug to be pulled out from under you.” You muttered as soon as she answered.

“Excuse me?” You could hear the offence in her voice.

“Fuck. Sorry. That sounded way more threatening than I meant for it to.”

“Where are you? I haven’t heard from you all day.”

“I’m at the White House.”

“Oh?”

“That’s not the point right now! Doug just stepped into the Oval with Underwood. I don’t know what he’s attempting to get, or do, but there’s a high chance if he has anything useable on you, it’s about to come out.”

“I haven’t seen Doug all week. I’ve barely even heard from him since we got back from Iowa.”

“Well I—“ you paused briefly as you passed by a group of senators, giving them a small nod in greeting, your voice may have been hushed but you knew these halls had ears everywhere, “I have a feeling that shit’s about to hit the fan. You know I never trusted him, he’s been Underwood’s lapdog for too long to suddenly work for the other side. And Underwood’s got a weird loyalty to him too.”

“I’ll make sure my bases are covered. Though I doubt he knows anything that Underwood already didn’t.” She paused, “now are you going to tell me why you’re at the White House?”

“Underwood called me in for a meeting, I’ll explain later, I just wanted to give—“ You rounded the corner and Heather heard two quiet yelps followed by two sets of small laughter. You dropped the phone from your ear but didn’t hang up yet,

“Y/n! It’s so good to see you.” Jackie greeted, pulling you into a quick hug.

“Likewise!” Honestly, you may have been childhood friends who stayed in touch thanks to your career paths staying parallel to each other’s but you weren’t really sure you still liked the woman.

“I hear you’re the next contender for Solicitor General.” She smiled.

“Well nothing’s been officiated yet.” You laughed softly, “but you! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you and Alan!”

“Thank you.” She took a minute to show off the diamond, Jesus, the thing was huge. “We should catch up! Are you free tonight? We could grab a glass of wine.”

“That would be amazing!” Sure..a glass of wine post work was always enjoyable, but if Doug was about to throw Heather under the bus for something, maybe you could end up with some knowledge on Jackie’s campaign. She’d always been terrible at keeping secrets after a few glasses of Pinot. A terrible trait for a politician honestly.

“How about Empress, say, 7:30?”

“Perfect! I’ll see you there.” You gave her a quick smile before both of you made on your respective ways, “Sorry…” you murmured into your phone.

“Solicitor General hey?” Heather teased, you could imagine the gleam in her eye already.

“I didn’t sign anything, don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

“On the contrary I think you’d like that a little too much.”

“I-wow…I am working!”

“I’m not the one leaving racy voicemails during work hours kitten.” Yeah…you felt the blush heavily creep into your cheeks at that, fuck was Heather ever the tease, especially while you were in Washington where it was very advisable to not partake in certain extracurricular activities.

“I’ll call you after I have drinks with Sharp. If I hear anything else I’ll keep you posted.”

“Perfect timing. My other line’s going off anyways.” Heather was gone with a click and you sighed, tucking your phone back into your pocket. There was definitely trouble brewing, and you were hoping you could get in front of it before it got any worse.

*

You’d gotten home around ten, ever so thankful to finally shed yourself of your heels and skirted suit, opting for the much more comfortable pyjamas. You threw the evening news on the t.v to keep an eye on things while you putzed around making sure everything you needed for the next day was in line, and all the loose ends from today were tied up. Once you’d washed your makeup off you poured yourself a glass of rose (despite being out with Jackie for nearly three hours you’d only treated yourself to a glass and a half of wine, keeping yourself alert while encouraging her to indulge). Since you promised Heather you’d call (and you’d gotten some substantial info from Jackie) you picked up your phone as you dropped into the couch, pulling your legs up under you.

“You finally home?” She greeted with a soft smirk.

“I..” you paused at the shriek in the background from wherever Heather was, “yeah…where are you?”

“Home.” She sighed, “Becca’s got friends sleeping over.” You heard the sound of a door shutting as she moved into her home office, the noise muffling, “trust me, you never want more than one sixteen year old girl in your house at a time.”

“Not planning on it.” You laughed.

“Jackie manage to drop anything? Or was it just old friends catching up?”

“Oh…she gave a lot…girl can’t keep her mouth shut, especially when she’s got something to brag about.”

“Oh?”

“When I ran into her today she was on her way to meet with Underwood. He’s getting her to team up with him for the debate, they’re going to try and take you down. They’ll be pulling the sexism card, something about Claire and you still questioning her position if she was a man? Underwood’s main point being that you’ve apparently never worked for anything, born with a silver spoon in your mouth.” Heather snorted,

“Is she getting anything in return for this?”

“She drops out of the race post debate and he adds her to his ticket.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Does she realize how stupid that looks? Running against him and then flip flopping to support everything he has to say?”

“I thought bringing that up would probably be a bad idea, let her dig her own grave.” You took a sip of wine, “besides, she said when she talked to Alan about it she thought maybe she should try and strike a similar deal with you.”

“I can’t exactly put her on my ticket.”

“She knows that.”

“And I’m not about to make promises for cabinet seats or anything else before I win the office.”

“Really?” You cocked a brow despite not being able to see each other, “I do believe I have a promised role in writing.”

“That’s because you provide me with information like this…among other things…you’re too important to the campaign.”

“Mmhm.” You hummed over a sip of wine, “you hear anything from Doug?”

“No. But I did get a call from Underwood threatening to slit my throat if I went near him again.”

“What?!”

“Apparently he relapsed, that’s why he hasn’t been around. He decided to blame it on working for me.”

“Bastard.” You muttered, “something was off when I saw him earlier, but I doubt it was just the campaign work that pushed him back that far. It doesn’t make sense…I’ll look into it.”

“Don’t get yourself into trouble trying to find dirt for me.”

“Heather please…I can argue and subpoena my way out of anything and you know it.” She chuckled softly, knowing you were right. You’d solidified yourself as one hell of powerful woman within office and the courts.

“What did Underwood want with you today?”

“Trying to push me towards Solicitor General again.” You sucked back more wine, “I think he had a feeling we were working together…he definitely knows now that he’s met with Doug. He knows it’s a dangerous game to go up against both of us, he’s already broken the law a few times and he’s definitely hiding a few skeletons. Or maybe his wife is, I’m not totally sure. But I know he’s trying to pull me away from your campaign and back into the White House before the nomination is secured.”

“It’s safe to assume you declined?”

“I said my schedule was too busy at the moment but I’d think about it.”

“Good girl.” Heather let out an exasperated sigh as there was a crash from further in the house that echoed through the phone, “I need to go…I’lll talk to you tomorrow.” You laughed,

“Go be super Mom. I’ll see you at eleven.”

“Night.”