I Admire People Who Can Keep A Tub Of Ben And Jerry's Ice-cream In The Freezer For A Week.

❤️❤️❤️

“I don’t know. Whenever we try to do stuff, me and Zoey, half the time she starts crying and freaking out, and she says it’s not my fault and she says she likes me, but…” Saintjohn Hadouken sighed through pinched lips, hard enough to make his cheeks puff, and shook his head, “...feels like I’m hurting her.”

Johnny Newsroom looked off into the distance and took a pensive pull of his vape. “She said she likes you?”

“Yeah. I just don’t know what’s going on.”

Johnny turned his head to look him in the eye. “Have you ever dated a trans gal before?”

Saintjohn shook his head. “I’m fuckin figuring out some shit about myself, bro.”

“It’s… she’s… let’s put it this way. Imagine if your dick looked like a scary clown.”

Saintjohn flinched. “I don’t wanna do that. I don’t wanna use my brain powers for evil.”

Johnny continued. “Imagine if every time you took off your pants, a fucked-up evil clown was staring back at you. Imagine trying to get close to someone while you’re like that. Imagine trying to have a sex life. Imagine just trying to love when you’ve got an evil clown under your pants.”

Saintjohn’s frown seemed to stretch beyond the limits of his face. “Can I stop imagining it now?”

Johnny took another pull from his vape. “I don’t think Zoey gets to stop. Everyone’s got a different relationship to their own body, I don’t know Zoey personally, but...” he trailed off, letting Saintjohn fill in the blanks for himself.

Saintjohn leaned against the side of the motorhome and sighed again. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Do you love her?” Johnny asked.

A pause.

“She makes me happy. When she laughs at my dumbass jokes, I feel like I just cured cancer.”

Saintjohn smiled as soon as he started talking about her. Johnny knew that smile, he felt its residual warmth, the second-hand joy. He wanted the two of them to be happy. He wanted one good thing to happen in the middle of this disaster. The Midwest Autonomous Zone could burn to the ground all over again. As long as he helped two people fall in love, he would have no regrets.

“And, y’know, I wanna get all up in there,” Saintjohn said.

“Okay. Well. To answer your question. Be patient. Let her do things at her pace. Let her figure herself out. Give her space when she needs it, even if you never want to be away from her. If you mess up - and you probably will, we’re only human - swallow your pride, apologize, and try not to do it again. Trust that it will all work out.”

“That sounds really hard.”

Johnny gave him a wry smile. “That’s love.”

[later]

“I’m sorry,” Zoey sniffed, pulling away from Saintjohn, “I just can’t right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever…”

She buried her head in her hands. Her body shuddered with heavy breaths as she began to cry. Saintjohn looked at her. He considered putting a hand on her shoulder, then lowered his arm and simply sat next to her.

“It’s okay,” Saintjohn said, “I understand. You gotta deal with the evil clown.”

Zoey lifted her head. She was too surprised and confused to keep crying. “What?”

Friendly reminder to listen VERY VERY CRITICALLY if someone tries to convince you not to register for federal disaster assistance following a declared disaster. Helene is still moving north and I see the usual rants picking up steam already.

That person trying to win social commentary points online is not your friend. That person can’t give you funds for house repair or to restock on food and meds. And if they say they can - that is a scammer and not someone you can trust.

Scammers and developers trying to take advantage after a disaster intentionally spread rumors/misinformation to convince survivors not to apply for federal disaster assistance. Many well meaning people pick this misinformation up and spread it further without understanding how the assistance process works. It’s happened more and more over the years and it will happen with Helene.

If you do not apply for assistance, you lose the chance to receive federal funds. APPLY APPLY APPLY. This doesn’t guarantee you will meet eligibility requirements, but you definitely can’t meet them if you don’t apply. The application process isn’t perfect but it continues to be updated - and was updated in 2024!! - to try and make it easier for survivors. If you have damages or lost power for an extended time, APPLY.

You can check on FEMA.gov or with local news to see when disaster recovery centers will open, how long the application period will last, and what information you’ll need when applying.

These are brilliant

3

Chapter 2

“Mate?” Her voice barely more than a whisper, Anna had to ask. She had to make sure she was not misunderstanding.

Adriel gently nodded, not dropping his eyes from hers. Annabella felt her heart speed and her lungs seemed suddenly unable to draw air. She felt her head spin a bit, the reality of the situation setting in hard and fast. For a second her eyes dropped to the center of his chest, where her hands were now splayed. At the moment, everything about him was affecting her more than she had anticipated him doing so in the beginning, let alone than she wished it did. Setting aside the fact he was Abriella’s father, he was gorgeous and she was finding him far more muscled than she had anticipated judging based solely on his profile in his suit.

When their eyes once again met, her breath and voice stuttered as she tried to put her thoughts into words. “So, I’ll be your first…” Each word was enunciated and came out slowly as she still tried to make sure she expressed herself clearly. Every implication from what she had learned of anglic relationships over the centuries tumbled through her mind and she was failing to grasp them soundly.

Was that really what she was worried about? Adriel’s jaw clenched hearing the words come out and the seeming hesitancy of them. His pride and, if he was honest, heart were more than a little bit wounded that her mind first went to sex and his inexperience. His voice held an edge, no matter how hard he tried to keep it out, “worried that you will not be satisfied due to my lack of experience, Bella?”

The sexual attraction and magnetism between them was strong, and it was all he could do not to ravish her on the table upon which she was sitting, yet that she was concerned about his experience struck at something within him that hurt in a way he could not express. Rarely did he feel vulnerable in any way, but at the moment he felt completely defenseless before her. His jaw tensed more, and he fought snapping. He had wanted to claim her there and then, but she worried that he would leave her wanting greater pleasure then he could provide? Angels did not copulate before they found their mate; but that did not mean he had not provided pleasure in other ways, and would not ensure that she was completely sated when he was through with her. That she would doubt him, and it would be her primary concern; that bothered him. He wanted a mate focused on more than the physical, but it seemed he had been granted otherwise by his father.

“First relationship.” Anna clarified, a bit taken aback and unsure of what else to say, after feeling like she had just been slapped by his reaction. Although she supposed the other was true as well, she was not about to state that from the way he had just spoken to her. She had seen the hurt on his face, and heard it in his voice. She was actually hurt herself now that he had thought she was referring to sex. It had been the last thing on her mind. How could he think she meant that? Relationships were complicated and sometimes messy; it seemed that communication was starting off that way for them in this one.

As soon as Anna spoke, and Adriel realized his mistake, his eyes closed and his head fell forward a bit. Obviously he was trying to process things as she was, and the heightened sexual tension between them, that had been building since their first meeting, was not helping. “I am sorry, my Bella.” He swallowed, unsure what else to say. Curse Div, curse Stennis, curse…fuck…he didn’t know. Maybe he should curse himself for jumping to conclusions after seeing how well that had worked out over the years for Cruz and Abriella. His mind, his body, and his heart seemed to be warring with one another on how to handle everything. This had to be one of the most unique situations when it came to angelic matehood, and nothing had prepared him for it.

Anna brought one of her hands to his cheek to gently caress it, the soft stubble tickling against her soft palm. “Adriel, I’m more worried about disappointing you.” She sighed heavily, now trying to be more careful with her wording and her nerves rising ever higher. “Being your first at everything…it’s a bit overwhelming. I did not mean to hurt you. I’m sorry if my hesitation in being able to put my thoughts together gave you the wrong impression. I’m just overwhelmed with everything, but that’s not a bad thing.” Now it was her thumb that swept slow and soft over his cheekbone as her voice mirrored that softness. She had been in his place more than once; she knew the blow to the ego and the heart. Worse, she had been in the place he thought he’d been in, where she had been a disappointment to someone else, someone who didn’t necessarily care that it caused her an ache.

Her touch almost caused a greater ache in his chest than his realization that he had been an ass to assume and not let her finish her sentence. If Annabella had reacted with anger or hurt, he would have understood and he deserved her reproach; instead she had been understanding and was worried herself. Adriel felt that it was he who did not deserve this female as his mate. His anger, which was indeed legendary amongst the Heavens and Hells, was something he now feared would hurt her and potentially drive her away. If he lost her…the ache in his chest caused him to breathe in sharply. He and Div would talk later.

“I am sorry, Bella. I have a temper, one which I have never had reason to contain nor restrict. I did not mean to offend or hurt you. I promise to do better in the future.” Slowly Adriel’s eyes opened and his head rose to look at her face. “You could not disappoint me.” Softly he kissed her, keeping his eyes on hers, feeling drawn into their cerulean depths and drowning within.

Gently he lowered his hands to her ass and lifted her off of the table. He had an idea, and it required getting in a totally different position than the one they currently were in. Her legs had still been wrapped around him, which helped as he carried her over to a large couch that was a short distance away. “I think we both got wrapped up in the feelings, emotions, and desires, mia bella. How disappointed would you be if we spent the rest of the afternoon,” one hand left her ass and slowly made its way up to the middle of her back, “just talking and becoming more comfortable with one another? Maybe avoiding more miscommunications?” He held her to him, trying to convey he didn’t want to let her go yet, but they obviously were both trying to grapple with this sudden shift in all they knew.

Anna’s hand was still on the side of Adriel’s face and again her thumb caressed his cheekbone, her head tipping to the side as she did. “Horribly…that is if there aren’t snacks and wine included in this snuggling on the couch.” Her lips curved up in a smile as she leaned into him. The passion that had overtaken them previously was waning, and that while the attraction had not lessened, now she wanted to know the man in a way that was far more deep and intimate than carnally. “A girl must have sustenance if she is to bare her soul to her mate, you know.” She was trying to lighten the mood a little. Truly, she wanted the wine more than anything.

When Adriel reached the couch, Annabella finally released her legs from around his waist. Her feet were only on the floor for a brief moment, however. As Adriel sat, he pulled her down with him so that she sat across his lap. Her ass on one thigh, her thighs were perpendicular across the other, with her shoulder tucked under one of his, and her head resting atop his shoulder. By the time they were settled, she was securely wrapped in his arms once more, and it was a toss up which was more pleased at the current situation.

One arm wrapped around her back with his hand on her hip, the other cradling her with his hand buried deep in her golden, silken hair, Adriel’s hold was gentle, yet possessive. How his daughter had found his mate and then matched them up without realizing it confused him, till he realized that Div had assisted her in pairing everyone up. It was true that his father worked in mysterious ways, but sometimes it would be nice if the being gave a heads up when he was about to upend your life. A soft kiss was placed on Anna’s forehead. She was his treasure and for her, he would learn not to explode as much as he had for the entirety of his existence. At least he would learn to temper his anger towards and at her, if not towards others entirely.

“I cannot promise to be a perfect mate. I shall try. There will be failures, but know that you are treasured regardless.” His hold tightened momentarily. “Tomorrow should be more relaxed. What do you think of spending the day together? We can go anywhere you want, or just stay here in Imperium and I can show you around. There are many nice places here on the Palace grounds.” A slow and soft kiss was placed on her forehead, and he inhaled the scent of her perfume as it mixed with her innate scent.

“I tend to snap to judgements and say things without thinking, so we both have things to work on, Addy.” Anna gave him a sheepish smile. Judging from everyone’s reaction at breakfast, she had a feeling that they’d all had run-ins with Adriel’s temper. She hoped not to, at least nothing worse than what had happened today.

Another kiss was placed on her forehead, then Adriel brought his forehead to hers. There was something in his eyes that made her feel that no matter what fights or disagreements that they had, it would end up okay. “Spending the day together sounds great, but how about we stay down here for a while? At least till we figure each other out a little more?” Annabella gave him a small smile, which was rewarded with one of his own and a very soft kiss. She was coming to like both from him exceptionally.

Support banner - @cafekitsune

I’m paying to force seven thousand strangers to see a photo of my late husband having fun with his dog. Tumblr Blaze is totally worth it. XD

I keep hate-reading plague literature from the medieval era, but as depressed as it makes me there is always one historical tidbit that makes me feel a little bittersweet and I like to revisit it. That’s the story of the village of Eyam.

Hey, married women: Go apply for your passport.

The SAVE Act has passed in The House. It makes it illegal for a woman whose last name does not match her birth name to vote as a "citizenship verification measure." The main way around it is being able to present your passport at the polls since that proves your citizenship.

Look up your Senators here and raise hell on their phone lines about this blatant attempt to disenfranchise millions of women:

https://www.congress.gov/members/find-your-member

Quick reminder that it's always morally correct to punch nazis.

Somethin' I'm Good At - Alec Hardison

Watch it on Youtube

Oh my gosh it's finally done!! I've been obsessing over this video for a few days now and ahhh I'm so excited that it's finished and I can share it with people!!

And of course I know Hardison is insanely competent at anything and everything, but this song just fit his personality so perfectly, I had to make the video! No insult towards him, just a fun and silly video that I can't stop dancing along with. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

The Depths of Ultra, part 1

This is the first 5ish pages to a short story I wrote in undergrad. I want to be an author, I am a writer, but I work doing other things to make ends meet. This specific story is my best and most polished work, but its too long to be submitted to any competition and too short to be a book. I have no idea what I am doing. -Enjoy ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ -and you’ll never be!” his father growled. Eorling cringed away from the disappointment in his father’s eyes. The burning stare followed him as he ran away through an endless corridor that stretched out to the horizon and up to the sky. Behind him, his father’s scolding rant followed him, growing louder and louder until  the nightmarish specter was upon him.

Eorling flinched and groaned as someone banged away in the hallway with a pair of wooden clackers. He rolled over, peering at the wall between him and his door, as if he would suddenly become clairvoyant. He pulled himself out of bed, and the clackers sounded again. This time, whoever was wielding them called aloud.

“Up! Up, you shiftless, lazy, long-eared louts! We’re digging today! Ankirat burn your slow bones! Get out here now!”

The voice belonged to one Foreman Ozglow. Experienced and effective, he was one of the most favored foremen in all of Ultra. The stout dwarf commanded respect and not a little awe, with an armored beard and arms covered in the scars of many battles. He could also bang clackers together loud enough to wake the dead.

Eorling hastily stuffed himself into his work clothes: a thick linen shirt and canvas overalls. He stomped his feet into sturdy, steel capped boots with thick soles and wax-sealed walls that kept out the water and damp. The hat he fit onto his head was also capped with steel, and the padding inside was brand new. Overall it was a snug, comfortable outfit that was built for hard work. Dressed, Eorling drained the dregs of last night's beer that he had left, tugged his beard, wiped his mustache, and was off.

The rest of the crew was out in the hallway, stretching and scratching themselves. The Foreman was counting heads and was already geared up. A spark of excitement flared in Eorling. Today’s the start of my shift. After putting in a full forty-eight hour shift, he would be a professional miner with all of the glory that came with it. He would also finally be considered an adult. Eorling hoped it would be enough to get the respect he so desperately desired from his father. Eorling’s father was a bitter dwarf. After a smithing accident took his arm, he had become rough and callous and often directed his misery at his only son. Eorling had battled for decades to earn his old man’s appreciation, but nothing seemed to work. Maybe, Eorling thought, this will turn the tide. A nice haul of loot and a good shift of work. He can’t ignore that.

The others were all there: Rikin, the foreman’s second, who had spent more time in the dark of the depths of Tera than in Ankirat’s daylight; Azik, who always carried his pick and shovel across his shoulders and bragged about his way with the lasses at the tavern; Krozlin, the only female dwarf on the crew, who was more than a match for any of them; and Eorling, the greenbeard. Foreman Ozglow turned, nodded as he counted Eorling, then spoke again.

“Right, lads! I’ve got a treat for the lot of you, and, if you don’t appreciate it, then you can sod off! Heading to Kron three. Gear up there.”

The rest turned to hustle that way. Eorling did too, but Ozglow stopped him with an outstretched hand. The foreman’s deep amber eyes studied him seriously. Previous apprehensions about his father’s lack of acceptance crept back into Eorling’s mind.

“Watch yourself down there, lad. I ain’t keeping firm eyes on you, and neither are the others.”

“Yes, foreman,” Eorling replied.

Ozglow’s stare was unblinking. “I mean it lad. You want to be a man? Act like one. Get moving.”

The hand was raised, and Eorling carried on. He trundled along through a maze of gray, stone tunnels, navigating in the dim light by reading the tunnel names at each intersection. The flickering lantern lights would not give enough light for humans or elves or immortals, but for the superior eyesight of the dwarves it was more than enough. After a short jog, he puffed his way up to a large, mostly empty room. Other than its entryway, it had three more portals, set into angled walls at one end. All three of these arches were numbered on their keystone, with the title for this section of the mine carved above them: “Kron.” 

The rest of his crew were pulling equipment from a set of battered old footlockers, and joking amongst themselves. Rikin did not speak much, and when he did, it was in a low, soft tone. Azik was loud and boisterous, always looking to get a snide jab in, whereas Krozlin was simply untouchable by the insults, always giving back as good as she got. Azik found no purchase today and turned to Eorling.

“Greenbeard! Glad you finally caught up.” With an easy smirk, the dwarf leaned back against a wall.  “I was worried I’d have to do all the mining my own damn self!”

Krozlin snorted and retorted with her North-Laker accent. “Oh give off, you blow-beard. You couldn’t work a stout into a froth with those arms of yours.”

Azik waved a hand as if he was swatting her words away. “I told you I’m not talking to you anymore, lass. No use in it.”

“Because you cannae stand a lady.”

Eorling kept his head down as he began to untangle a harness from one of the lockers. He knew joining in was a sure way to become the butt of the joke, and he had no want to embarrass himself on his first shift. Azik and Krozlin kept going.

“I love my ladies! And they love me! You’re just a curmudgeon what doesn’t know when to stop!”

“Hah!” She laughed, pausing in the act of pulling her harness up to her hips. “ Those skinny flits at the tavern, ladies? I’ve found human lads firmer than em! Those are sickly girls, and you should keep your hands off of em!”

Rikin made himself heard. “No, he should feed them. I agree, some of the younger ones have begun looking too thin for their own good.”

“Hear that Azik? Right from one who ought to know!”

Eorling continued getting his gear on. A shovel, a pickaxe, a small hammer and chisel, his harness and some protective plates, a cap spindle to hold a candle for light, a mine mug with a hinged lid on it, metal edging for his boots, and a few brass beard-studs to keep his facial hair firmly fixed in its braided pattern. This kept it from getting frizzy in the damp of the depths. He sat to dig out his gloves, as the rest of the crew were sitting by now.

Azik turned to him. “Well, what about you? You’re young, and you don’t look too thin, but your arms could do with a good double shift.”

“Ah,” he stuttered, “m-maybe, yeah.” Eorling had never known he was embarrassed about his lack of a love life. Until now.

“So shy! Kroz, you might like this lad, he’s all meek!”

Eorling felt a blush rising as the miner lady laughed. “Maybe! But no, I’m going steady still.”

“What, with that clerk lass–”

Ozglow marched into the room, hands full with rolled parchment and the specialized equipment of a foreman, such as a compass and loupe, pens and ink, and a set of acidic vials designed to detect metal purity. Each dwarf stopped talking and stood. Allowing your foreman or superior to stand alone was a grievous offense. He stayed silent and pulled to a stop, distracted by a few extra candle sticks that were refusing to sink into his pocket. He jiggled them a bit, and they finally fell into place. Then he turned to face his miners.

“You’re all suited and ready. Good. The last crew will be up soon, so hop to it! I need three barrels of beer, a box of rations–the ones with the good jerky, mind you–a box of flints and steels, a dozen torch points, some of that Drunder Good Bread, and three lengths of chain.”

He turned to each of them “Azik, you go get the beer–and none of that Sonder Suds swill. Krozlin, you get the jerky and the bread. Rikin you get the odds and ends, and Eorling,” he said as he turned to the new miner, “get the chains. They are two lefts and a right. Well? What in Judge’s hammers are you all standing about for? Go! Get me my equipment, you slow bones!”

Krozlin cackled a laugh and they each hustled off to their duties. Eorling saw that they did not need directions to get their materials, and felt slightly ashamed that he did. He followed the direction, leaving and turning left out of the door, then left again at the nearest intersection, and finally a right. The endless grays of the dusty tunnels could be confusing, but Eorling made sure not to stray from his given path. This led him into an alley full of heavy equipment, including the chains he needed. Each chain length was standardized, being twenty feet long.

The chains were an odd part of dwarven society. Some of them had existed for a long time, helping works for thousands of years. Though it was not difficult for the dwarves to make more, there was a certain love for old chains. Each chain had a history, a lineage. Each one was a chain to the works of their ancestors, both literally and metaphorically,  and some of the lengths here were thousands of years old. In the King’s Peak, there were a set of chains that were over ten thousand years old. They had aided in great constructions and even the killing of great foes, and were venerated by all dwarves.

Eorling selected three that seemed young enough for him to move. Touching or handling older chains was inappropriate for him. He slung one over each shoulder and swayed with their weight. They were heavy, and as he grabbed for the third, he pitched wildy off balance. With a clank-filled crash, he crumpled back against the wall, smothered by the chains. Eorling struggled to stand or wriggle out of the chains; he simply could not muster the strength.

Thankfully, he did not need to call out for help, which might’ve shamed him eternally. A soft voice spoke from the mouth of the alley.

“Hands full then, greenbeard?”