#shut up caz

[lab-trash]

Okay, so I recently reblogged a post about Chase wearing glasses, and of course, as a resident Kaz-lover, I just have to pitch the idea of Kaz needing glasses.

Like, he has a million fuckin siblings, what are the chances that his parents ever made the time to take him to an optometrist. I understand yall want glasses!chase for the simping stuff, but I want glasses!kaz for logistical reasons.

And also because Chase would find it cute, but yknow shut up

Also, I think the funniest part about this is Copy Kaz, that episode where Clyde disguises himself as Kaz to sneak into mighty med, because that means one of two things. 1) Either Kaz used to have glasses and he would've been asked when he got new ones, or 2) Kaz is currently supposed to wear glasses, but because he never does, it'd be more suspicious for this glasses-wearer to be wearing glasses.

Which would be particularly funny if Oliver kept making him wear his glasses while they studied, so he wouldn't lose his fricken mind, and when running into Caz, he's like "dude, where did your glasses go," and Clyde panicks, "I told you to wear them until we take the test, you're gonna strain your eyes!" And Clyde learns that he could've been wearing his glasses this whole damn time.

[maharlika]

petrichor

a little ficlet for @elysiicns for the prompts "petrichor and tadpoled!caz." this ficlet features tadpoled spawn!caz (i.e. slave era caz), halsin/cazador, and some implied cazador/vellioth

Halsin knows what Cazador is the moment he sees him. The undead have a certain smell about them—the faint, cloyingly sweet scent of overripe fruit, right above the edge of rotting. It is this same sweetness Halsin smells when he first kisses him, in the woods, with his own blood still fresh on Cazador’s tongue. 

The kiss is barely a press of their lips together, but Cazador pulls away as if scalded, his red eyes wide and bright. He brings a trembling hand to his mouth and presses his fingers to his lips.

“You kissed me,” he whispers, then looks around furtively, as if someone will hear, but the camp remains silent. It is a parched summer’s day, and everything is so still it is as if the air has been sucked out of the world. Their companions have taken refuge in their tents while Halsin has allowed Cazador to feed from him under the shade of a large beech tree in an attempt to find a cool breeze.

“Should I not have?” Halsin asks. “If so, I apologize—”

“No!” Cazador says, too loud and too sudden. He lowers his head and speaks quickly, like he is forcing the words out before they are swallowed by the darkness. “It is only—no one has kissed me but my master. I have never—he is the only one who—” 

Halsin sees his throat working, bobbing. Watches as he screws his hands into the material of his trousers, fingers working, knuckles white. 

“I know what it is like,” Halsin says softly, “to belong so wholly to someone. To believe that you will always be theirs.”

Cazador’s eyes squeeze shut and he nods. “Even though things have changed. Even though I can walk in the sun now, stand in running water, enter houses without invitation…to allow someone else to touch me seems…wrong. I’m sorry.”

“He no longer owns you.”

Cazador shrugs, the gesture helpless. “But part of me still wants him to. I do not know whether it is larger than the part of me that yearns for freedom.”

Halsin nods, a solemn thing. “There is a comfort in being owned. It is difficult, I know, to not understand your place in the world.”

“He is all I have known for so very, very long,” Cazador murmurs. 

“He does not need to be,” Halsin says. “Not anymore.”

Again, Cazador only shrugs. Halsin can see his expression closing off, his shoulders almost up to his drooping ears as he hunches in on himself. He’s a tall elf, almost as tall as Halsin, but the way he carries himself makes him look so small. 

“Would you walk with me, Cazador?”

“You know that I love walking,” Cazador sighs. “How many mountains have we crested at this point? How many miles have my poor feet trod? I’m not built for this life—my master preferred for me to stay in his bed, you know.”

“And here I am, making you suffer,” Halsin replied. “But worry not, little one. It is a short walk.”

“You’re lucky I enjoy your company, druid,” Cazador grumbles. 

“At least,” Halsin says brightly, “it is not raining.”

–

Of course, rain starts as soon as they have made good headway into the forest. The wind gusts through the leaves, which sigh as if in relief. Halsin quickly murmurs a Control Water spell, and beckons Cazador closer. 

“Wouldn’t want you to get wet,” Halsin says, when Cazador is tucked against him, protected from the rain. 

“First the walking, now the rain,” Cazador grouses. He primly tucks a wet strand of hair behind his ear. 

Halsin huffs out a laugh. 

Cazador reaches out, past the boundaries of Halsin’s spell, and lets water trickle down his fingers. Then he shakes his hand and tucks it back between their bodies.

“You should teach me this spell,” he says. He is voracious for these kinds of things, Halsin has noticed. New spells, new stories. After a life cloistered in his master’s dark palace, he tends towards knowledge as a plant tends towards the sun. 

“Gladly,” Halsin says. He leads Cazador to sit on a fallen log, and for once Cazador does not complain about wasting time, or getting his clothes dirty, fastidiousness lost, replaced by the wonder in his face as the rain pours around them, feeding life. 

“Is there a lesson to be had here?” Cazador asks eventually. “Something about nature, and how everything finds its place?”

“If that is what you wish,” Halsin says. “Truth be told, I only wanted to spend some time with you.”

If Cazador could blush, Halsin thinks he’d be beet-red by now. But there are other tells: the way his mouth parts and his ears twitch, the way he looks down and away. Thinking of his master again, perhaps. 

“I do not know exactly what my place is, or who I am meant to be, or what I am without my master,” Cazador says, looking down at his hands. “But I am quite certain of one thing.”

“Oh?” Halsin asks. “And what is that?”

“That I would very much like for you to kiss me again.”

When Halsin inhales, he takes within him the earthy smell of well-watered soil and the sweetness of Cazador’s breath in his mouth.

[afoolandathief]

Happy STS! I might be bearing my own secrets a little here, but oh well! Your characters are playing a dating game, which archetype are they going for? (ie: the arrogant one, the cold one, the childhood friend, the older man, the shy one, the flirt, etc)

"Old man."

"What?"

Caz looked down at Jade. He was leaning over her and her laptop as she moved the cursor over the dating sim's options.

"I said, I wanna try and bag the silver fox," he went on.

Jade raised an eyebrow at him.

"Is this, like, you relating to someone your actual age?"

"Oh, that's hilarious, Shaw. Look at me, I'm splitting my sides laughing," Caz said drily. "Now, would you just click on him?"

Jade moved her mouse over the cartoon, gray-haired man. A dialogue option came up as the man sneered from her laptop screen.

"Ooh, he's mean too?" Caz leaned far too close to Jade. "Ya know, I don't usually go for guys like him."

"That's what I thought," Jade said. She leaned back in her chair, relieving herself of being in direct line with a vampire's breath. "So, why did you pick him, then?"

Caz leaned over the laptop, using the keyboard arrows to select a line of dialogue.

"Well, I mean, I usually like guys I could break in half," he said. "Sort of the opposite with women. But he was the only option that seemed — I don't know, stern? I always like someone who doesn't take any shit."

He swore in Romanian and stabbed at the keyboard.

"Câcat, how do I pick this thing?"

"Enter key," Jade said. She leaned over the keyboard and showed him.

"Thanks, Shaw," Caz said. "Hey, you've played this before, right? Who'd you pick?"

"It's not important," Jade said.

"Oh, well, if it's not important."

He moved the cursor across the computer screen. Jade shot forward as the phrase "Are you sure you want to quit?" blazed in front of her in bright red letters.

"What are you doing?"

"You can find old versions of the game under 'Saved,' right?"

"Oh, now you're suddenly an expert on P.C. games?"

Jade went for the mouse, but Caz was faster. She tried to think of a spell that interrupted Bluetooth signals, but it was too late. The screen loaded a scene at a nightclub featuring a pale, dark-haired man in a ruffled shirt. One earring dangled from his ear as the animation moved his fanged mouth open and closed. A line of dialogue about only going out at night appeared.

"Holy shit," Caz breathed.

He stumbled back from the laptop with his hands clasped over his mouth. He breathed. He giggled. Then he burst into obnoxious, high-pitched laughter.

"Jesus. Fucking. Christ," he gasped.

"Shut up!"

"Does Violet know about this?"

"I played this before I dated Violet," Jade said, shutting the laptop screen just as the cartoon man lifted his red-filled wine glass. "Not that it matters. It's just a game."

"Yeah, sorry, but," Caz took a breath and wiped his eyes. "It's just funny whenever someone has a thing for vampires. Like, come on, Shaw. You know we're objectively terrible to date."

Jade cradled her head in her hands.

"It wasn't about him being a vampire," she said.

Caz leaned back against her kitchen table. Her cats had wandered over and were sniffing him curiously.

"Oh?" he asked.

"Look, he was the only option that seemed — a little fruity, okay?" Jade said. "I just prefer guys who are also queer. You know how it's easier, sometimes, when someone else is bi?"

"Trust me, Shaw, I'm well aware of that," Caz said.

He opened the laptop and stared at the screen.

"Yeah, I've definitely gone home with that guy," he said.

He shut the laptop and backed away from the table.

"Well, this has been — weird," he said. "I'll, uh, see you when I have to kill someone again, I guess."

"Wait, I thought you wanted to play this?" Jade asked.

"Yeah, that type AB I had earlier isn't sitting right," he said, patting his stomach. "Trust me, it's not gonna be pretty."

He nearly tripped over Ada and Lovelace as he grabbed his hat and jacket.

"Do you need a ride?" Jade asked.

"Nah, I'll just grow wings and fly," Caz said. "Or just — run really fast. Yeah. Used to do that all the time. Before cameras, but — yeah, it'll be fine."

The entire trailer shook as he slammed the door behind him.

~

Caz fell through the door of his apartment. He loosened his collar and took another deep breath. His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest.

"It's fine," he said, taking his phone out to send a text. "I'll be fine. Just need to get this out of my system."

"We really need to stop meeting like this."

Caz whirled around to find the tiny Norse god he'd run into at the bar standing in his living room.

"How'd you get here so fast?"

"I ripped a hole in time and space, dear," Loki flipped a frizzy strand of red hair out of their face and flashed that oddly scarred smile. "Now, what's the matter?"

Caz reached in his cabinet and pulled out a bottle of vodka and two glasses.

"Just needed some meaningless sex, is all."

Loki clasped their chest dramatically.

"My dear, sweet draugr, I have a wives and family!"

"Vampire, not a draugr," Caz said. "And you're polyamorous."

"Yes, but you're not," Loki said. They strolled up to his kitchen counter and swiped one of the glasses. "We both know you're far too possessive to keep dating a married god. Now, what's actually wrong?"

Caz took a long swallow of vodka.

"I just got this image in my head of my best friend and work associate pegging me," he said. "And it all started because we tried playing this computer game. One where you have to pick someone to date."

"What were the options?" Loki asked.

Caz told them. Loki tapped a set of painted nails to their chin.

"Well, that's an obvious choice," they said. "Old man, of course."

[southpawbitch]

Eleven | De Facto | Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Caroline "Casper" Kazansky

(18+, minors dni)

Masterlist

A/N: eleven!!! and officially the end of the "flashback" !!! feel like I kinda rushed through the ending, but I'm really excited to get back to the present. as always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist and pls let me know what you think :) happy reading!!

x MJ

Ever since she saw that picture in Jake’s apartment, Caz has distanced herself from him–not physically, but emotionally. She chuckles to herself at the thought. From the very beginning, she knew what they were doing was wrong, sure, but she thought if Jake didn’t feel bad about it, then why should she. 

After seeing Laurel with the biggest smile on her face, standing next to Jake, she realized why. Jake painted this picture for her of his relationship, and she just imagined that there was no life in it. He made her feel like she was breathing new life into him with every late night drive or stolen glances at the bar in front of everyone they know. In the picture, though, she saw that life. She saw the little eye wrinkles as he flashed a beautiful and genuine smile, holding onto his girl tightly. He looked just like he looks when he’s with her. The frame was dated one month before she met him at Top Gun. 

It’s all a ruse. 

He either loves them both, which isn’t an option for Caz because she doesn’t believe in love–the situation she’s put herself in is exactly the reason why–or, this is just who he is. He cheats on his girlfriend whenever he’s stationed and away from her, and he moves on quickly. He’s charming and attractive and incredibly difficult, but she knows that’s what women fall for. If it worked on her, it could work on anyone. Someone who is a better person than she is probably would’ve stayed away the moment they realized he was engaged. She chuckles dryly to herself at the fact that he told her he was engaged before even trying anything. What does that say about her? 

Her sadness and guilt are quickly washed away by anger and annoyance. She picks up her placement papers and marks her decision in ink before folding it up and sliding it into the envelope with her other paperwork, sealing it shut and taking a trip to base on her off day to make sure Hutchins gets this ASAP before she makes any more irrational life decisions.

They roll away from each other on the king sized bed, attempting to catch their breath. She’s not proud of herself, but she wanted the last few weeks of training to go as smoothly as possible, and continuing on like nothing ever changed seemed like the least messy way to go about it. Once she graduates, she’ll never have to see him again if she doesn’t want to. She can block his number and pray she forgets he even exists. 

“Can we talk?” Jake questions, turning to the side to look at Caz. She keeps her gaze fixed on the ceiling above. She’s not mad at the current situation–her naked in bed next to him, satisfied–but she does wish they were at her place instead of his. Training finished up this week, and next week is graduation. Placement papers are due tomorrow, but she turned hers in weeks ago. Jake doesn’t know that. 

“About what?” She questions, finally turning to lay on her side, facing him. She looks so heavenly like this, barely covered up with his white sateen sheets. She cracks a smile, playing the part of someone who’s still interested in whatever any of this is. It hurts her, though. She wishes she could believe the words that come out of Jake’s mouth more than anything, but that’s not an option anymore. He led her to believe he wasn’t happy with his incredibly gorgeous, loving, successful girlfriend. If he can lie about that, he can lie about pretty much anything. 

“Me, you, us.” He says simply and it takes everything in her not to reach over and slap him in the face. She’s on the verge of tears, but she’d never let it show. Not to him–not anymore.

“There is no ‘us’.” She reminds him simply, keeping her composure for the time being. “There’s me and there’s you, but–”

“I love you, Caroline.” He cuts off her words and nearly sends her into cardiac arrest all in a few words. She has always been fairly certain that she’d never hear anyone say that to her, at least in a romantic sense, and she’s pissed that he took the first time away from her with some meaningless, last-ditch effort to keep whatever they have going alive for a little while longer. Do women really fall for this shit? She fears she might have if she hadn’t made that huge revelation at his place a few weeks ago. 

“I know that’s not something you want to hear, but I know you must feel it, too.” His voice is barely above a whisper now as he sits up. She follows suit, still in shock. She feels the tears begin to form in her eyes, but she wills them not to fall. She’ll be damned if she cries like a heartbroken baby in front of him. 

Heartbroken. Is that what this feeling is? He didn’t betray her in so many words–he saved that for his fiancee who will never have any idea about any of this, she’s sure, but he tricked her into thinking he’s this person that he’s just not. She hates to admit that she had actual feelings for him–maybe love, but she isn’t entirely sure. It feels silly now to call it that, at least on her end. If it was love, it was love brought on by a lie. 

“You’re lying to yourself if you think this is love.” She struggles out. She believes it, but she can’t deny the feelings that she felt before shit hit the fan with them. Her mother always told her that love is easy, and that’s how it felt for nearly five months. Nothing is easy with Jake now. 

“You’re lying to yourself if you don’t.” He knew this would be her reaction. He’s been feeling her pull away because of the circumstances surrounding his other relationship and the realness of theirs. He’s not surprised, but he’d hate himself for letting her go without telling her. His words sting–maybe because he’s right. He’ll never get the satisfaction in that, though. “I’m going to break up with Laurel…break off the engagement.” He breathes out, hoping it might make her feel differently.  

I love you. I’m leaving her. It’s textbook cheater shit. She can’t believe it. The longer she looks at Jake, the angrier she gets. His words are beginning to taint every memory the two of them have shared together. Fuck the beautiful sunsets and slurpees and late nights drives. Fuck the sneaking around and stolen glances at work. It’s all so childish and meaningless now. 

“Don’t do that.” She warns him, scooting back from him on the bed as she gets up and struggles to find her clothes that are strewn around the room. Panic sets in. His words replay in her mind as she pulls her bra on.

“I don’t love her, Caroline…not like I love you, anyway.” He corrects himself, trying to be as open and honest as possible as he watches her get dressed. “Let’s just pick a place and go and be together. That’s all I’m asking.” The thought might be romantic if she cared about any of that. That’s not what she wants, and even if she did, she wouldn’t want it to happen this way–so ugly and messy and wrong. She thinks of her parents' love story. She can’t imagine telling a story like this to her kids one day. The thought makes her feel sick. The beginning and end might be fucked up, but the middle…that’s a different story. 

So many thoughts are running through her mind. She’s torn between what she’s believed to be true about herself for the past twenty-four years and what she’s starting to figure out about herself now. What she wants in this moment is so vastly different than what she thought she would want, but she knows she’s just having a moment of weakness. Jake seems to do that to her. The only thing she’s sure about is that she has to get the hell out of here–away from Jake and his stupid, perfect face and beautiful eyes.

“I can’t give you what you want.” She tells him as she pulls her shorts on and grabs the oversized sweatshirt laying a few feet away. She can’t believe he’s even suggesting it–knowing her feelings on a relationship like that from the start. Maybe he thinks he can manipulate her into thinking it’s what she wants now–maybe he already has.

“All I want is you.” He’s begging and pleading with his eyes, but his body stays frozen in on the spot, watching as she gets ready to leave. He knows when she walks out of that door, it’s not going to be easy to get her back. He’s prepared for that. He didn’t think she would be easy to convince, and he’s willing to do anything–everything–to make it right. If that’s even possible at this point.

If all he wanted was her, he would’ve ended things with his fiancee the moment that his feelings started to shift. She knows this. He knows this, but they both know it’s not that simple–nothing about their situation is simple. How was he supposed to know that meeting her would turn his life completely upside down, making him question everything he’s ever thought he wanted in life? Despite the fact that she’s completely rejecting him right now, he knows it’s what he needs to do. He can’t marry Laurel and pretend like he hasn’t completely fallen head over heels for another woman. He knows he can never be as happy with her as he once was, knowing that he could feel like this with someone else.

“Don’t end your engagement, Jake. Marry her and have the life you want with kids and a dog and all of that shit. You deserve it.” The words nearly tear her apart from the inside out, but she holds her composure long enough to grab her things and leave hastily. Jake doesn’t follow. Her words sting. He does deserve it. He deserves to have the life he promised someone else. His wants and needs will be pushed to the side and his chances of ever loving like this again will be doomed. 

Caz leaves so hastily she forgets the small, golden ring that she left on the vanity tray in Jake’s bathroom when they showered together earlier. Her most prized possession and a huge piece of her heart are left with Jake that day. 

Taglist: @starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @taytaylala12 @what-a-ginger-nymph @novagreen04 @dempy

[knife-drawer-rp]

🎲 For Caz, Woowoo, or both? You pick! ( @plague-on-the-run / @nomans-land-rp )

Might get long so sit tight!

For Caz

What do you get when a lightning storm and a typhoon meet up in a bar? A bunch of bounty hunters looking for a quick payday with reckless abandon for everyone else around them. There were chairs and bullets alike flying through the air, along with a couple of people who the biggest of the brute group getting real handsy about chucking a pair of outlaws around. However, what they certainly didn't expect, though they should have with double dollars to their names, was the ferocious combination of Caz and Vash fighting together. One cussing up a storm at their assailants and the other apologizing before clocking a man in the head with the side of his bigass pistol. There were no casualties, though no one really left that tiny saloon without bruises and bumps. To the pair's rare grace of fortune, after all had been said and done, it turns out those "bounty hunters" have been causing trouble for civilians, acting more like thugs than protectors, so the people were more than glad to hold off calling the authorities on the two until... Midday the next day. Don't get the people wrong, they're very thankful, but the mere presence of people with such high profiled bounties is bound to attract more trouble, especially Vash... Which he completely understood and thanked them for the generosity (even though they're going to have to SPRINT out of town first thing in the morning). The allotted time, however, did grant the Harbinger and Humanoid Typhoon enough time to scurry back to the inn they'd split costs in to gather their stuff and lick their wounds. That's when he noticed that Caz hadn't been using their left arm much since the fight. Granted, it was hard to see when they had their cloak on, but when the realization that they'd probably dislocated it hit, Vash immediately took it upon himself to tend to his friend. He insisted that it was okay, that he's set dislocated bits at least... Once or twice... And that it'd hurt only for a second. Maybe that was a white lie, but after some banter back and forth about trying to convince his stubborn companion that they were not fine and did need some help, he made quick work of straightening them out.

They did a count down from three, and with a loud CRACK, Caz's arm was set back where it should be. Vash made a face of sympathetic pain, and before he realized what he'd done, he'd found himself reflexively putting his forehead to their injury as if that'd soothe it. But that's not how humans make booboos feel better, so he quickly readjusted his technique and gave their shoulder a quick kiss, "There! All better. We just have to make you a sling or something so you don't put more stress on it... Why are you looking at me like that?" The redness to their face will be chalked up to the adrenaline of the fight still coursing through their veins. They weren't flustered by the sweet gesture. Shut up!! ❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁✿❀❁ NOW IT'S TIME FOR....... El WooWoo

Under the pale light of the planet's five moons, Nicholas D. Wolfwood may be wondering why in the hell himself and Blondie surprise over here even kid themselves by booking rooms with separate beds. It's not every night's stay, but there's been a significant few times where they've dragged their asses into their lodging and just laid claim to the same bed simultaneously, with neither of them relenting giving up the space.

Tonight, Nico would find himself crammed off to the right side of a twin bed, having to share it with Vash, who definitely got there second and insisted on just... Curling up like a big dog with his head resting on Wolfwood's stomach. They weren't gonna share the single pillow too, that would be insane.

There was some boyish bickering over the whole situation, the least of which included the priest being called out for his lack of generosity and sharing skills, which was followed by trying to shove Vash off the bed... Which only inspired the idea of WHAPPING his prosthetic hand down onto his dearest companion a bit harder than he intended to. Apologies immediately followed after Wolfwood tensed up under the tremendous open-palmed slap to his gut, (as if neither of them have experienced injury worse than that in their life). Another push was made to shove the walking disaster of a man off the bed, which was met by the biggest, saddest, wettest beast plead of forgiveness Wolfwood had ever seen prior to a little kissy kiss being put down over his already fading slap mark. Didn't matter that the shirt was in the way, its the intention for forgiveness!

Bah. It's too late and they're both too tired for more arguing and all this other crap. With a gruff "Stop lookin' at me like that, I'm fine" given, Vash would take that middle ground met and resume their regularly scheduled program of stubbornly and mildly uncomfortably sharing a bed for the night. They'll both wake up weirdly sore in the morning from the odd angles, but that's a tomorrow them problem.

[writingwitharlo]

Your Laughter Is My Medicine

a/n: inspired by my own body refusing to wake up today; also thank you to @prettychewtoy for motivating me to write this up, this one's for you! The tickling wasn't initially the plan but there you are~ @ticklishraspberries @veryblushyswitch

Introducing my OCs: Archie (Arthur; he/they), Caz (Cazimir; he/him) and Finch (they/them)

[they're all gay and dating, that is all]

1447 words

Caz held his breath as he shut the door behind him as quietly as possible. Working late shifts at the bar usually meant he wouldn't be home until late into the night. Not that he was all too worried about waking up Archie but Finch always gave him the cold shoulder the next morning if they woke from him returning.

He toed his shoes off by the door, hung his key on its designated hook and shrugged his coat off before shuffling quietly through their apartment to get himself something to eat before he would eventually go to bed.

To his surprise, it seemed that not everyone was asleep after all. The floor lamp, although dimmer, illuminated the living room, revealing the bundled up figure on the couch. "Arch?" he spoke softly, only to see the tuft of red, curly hair that was poking out, move slowly in the direction of his voice.

Caz moved over to the couch, kneeling down beside it so he could be on eyelevel with his boyfriend, adjusting the corner of the blanket slightly to reveal their face. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

Archie could barely hold his eyes open for longer than a couple seconds, his lids so heavy they practically fell shut on their own. He made a sound that could have been a 'hi' or just a hum, either way, his voice sounding uncomfortably raw.

It was hard to make out in the light but once Caz' eyes had adjusted a bit, he was able to make out the rosy cheeks and nose. "Are you ill?" He brought his hand up to Archie's forehead, only for it to be met with an unexpected warmth. "Jesus," he muttered more to himself. "Where's Finch?"

It seemed unusual for Finch to leave Archie in this state all on his own, unless they hadn't returned home yet. But even that seemed unlikely.

Archie sniffled quietly, bringing the covers further around themselves again as a shudder crept through them. "Getting meds. And food."

Caz frowned a bit. "We have meds." Where would they even get any medication at this time? All pharmacies he knew of had been closed for hours.

There was a pause and Caz could practically hear the sheepishness in it. "Couldn't find 'em."

Caz chuckled despite the concern he was feeling and shook his head, planting a gentle kiss against Archie's forehead before rising to his full height again. Clearly not wanting to be left alone again, Archie whined when Caz moved away to the kitchen. "Shh, I'm coming back. Just give me a minute."

There were some sounds of a cabinet opening and some rustling, the clinking of glass and the creak of the faucet turning on. "Could Finch not have mixed you up one of their magic potions?" Caz asked when he returned, holding a packet of tablets and a glass of water.

Archie gave a bit of a huff in response. "That's not how those potions work-" He fell into a bit of a coughing fit before he could continue, burying his face into the blankets.

"Okay, baby, easy now." Caz settled down on the couch, rubbing his back through the covers the best he could until the cough subsided. "Here, sit up and take this."

Reluctant to move and with little energy to get himself up, Archie eventually was able to prop himself onto his elbow to take one of the tablets, hand shaking slightly when he lifted the glass to his lips.

"Good boy," Caz whispered, stroking his fingers through the other's messy curls, his words eliciting an appreciative hum.

Just as Archie was settling in again, the door opened and fell shut without much regard. Not even bothering to take their boots off, Finch marched through the apartment, setting the bag of takeout food on the coffee table, pausing when they saw the packet of medicine. "You found the meds."

Caz couldn't help but smile at the comment, giving a nod. "Yeah. Hello to you too."

Finch just rolled their eyes and disappeared to the kitchen. "I got you something too," they informed him when they returned with a couple bowls.

It looked like their usual takeout order, except for the extra portion of plain, steamed rice which was specifically for Archie.

"I could have made you that," Caz pointed out, helping Archie sit up properly so he would be able to eat.

"You weren't here," Finch commented plainly, handing him his own food. But before Caz could give any retort, Archie just shook his head. "It's fine. This is better. I won't feel bad if I end up spewing this up later."

"You think you're gonna throw up?" Caz asked, the concern slightly growing in him.

"Maybe. Guess we'll find out." With a shrug, Archie shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth.

Caz shook his head and they settled down together on their L-shaped sofa with Archie on one end, Finch on the other and Caz between them in the corner, each silently focused on their own food.

As much of a foodie Archie usually was, they only managed to eat a couple mouthfuls before becoming too queasy for more.

Caz leaned back with a satisfied sigh once he was done, eyes fluttering shut for just a few moments. The time was enough for Archie to scoot closer to him, though, cuddling up against his side in clear need of some comfort. And who was Caz to deny him when he was being so sweet?

He adjusted himself a bit to accommodate them both, one leg propped up on Archie's end of the couch as he pulled him in closer. It wasn't a surprise that Archie was being clingy while feeling so poorly, especially since Finch was not much for the whole physical affection, only occasionally.

It would have not taken much longer for Caz to slip off to sleep if it hadn't been for the sudden cold beneath his jumper. He lifted his head with a sharp inhale, looking down at the culprit. Despite being boiling warm everywhere else, Archie's hands were significantly colder.

"Are you warm enough?" Caz mumbled, bringing his arm further around the bundled up body so he could share more of his own heat. Archie nodded into his side and Caz let his head fall back against the cushions again.

Despite how drowsy the meds had made Archie, his hand continued to trace over Caz' warm skin, almost as a way to pacify himself, the contact so soothing under their fingertips. Until the muscles beneath them twitched, that was.

"What're you doing?" came Caz' smooth voice and had he been able to see the smirk on Archie's face, he might have known better than to move in even closer.

A few more scribbles from blunt nails and a chuckle rumbled in Caz' chest. "Hey, you're supposed to be getting some sleep." He brought his free hand down, interlocking his fingers with the provoking ones.

Archie tilted their head back so they could gaze up at the human pillow/heater with their most innocent look. "But I wanna hear your laugh."

The words took a little longer to process, Caz' mouth opening and closing a couple times as he became painfully aware of his blush forming. "My-... Why?"

"Are you really going to question a dying man's wishes?" Finch seemed to appear out of nowhere on his other side again, previously in the kitchen to make some tea.

Caz rolled his eyes. "Nobody's dyin- aCK! No, Fin!" Finch's slender fingers easily found their way to his neck, barely even brushing over the sensitive skin before Caz fell into helpless giggles, without a free hand to protect himself.

"No- Quit ihit!" Caz was doing his best to protect any accessible path to his neck, pressing his chin to his chest or scrunching up his shoulders but Finch always found a way in. All while Caz was doing his best to sit as still as possible, not wanting to disturb Archie's rest by squirming around. "Come on!"

It only lasted a couple minutes but by the end, Caz' eyes were dampened with tears of giddy mirth and his skin prickled with the company of the goosebumps Finch's touches left behind. "I hate you," he huffed, shooting them a half-hearted glare.

"No, you don't." Finch winked at him and patted his chest before curling up on their end of the couch, their feet tucked behind Caz' back to warm up against his warm body.

As uncomfortable as the couch was to sleep on all night, neither of them was going to leave their ill boyfriend out there on his own.

[dontcxckitup]

What I think of the MUN: Eh. You're okay I guess......hgjdkshgkjsdg Im jokiiiiiing! 😘 My gosh, where to begin? First of all, your writing???? *1000 chef kisses* Whether its you writing Gareth, or Eric, or Magneto, or whoever, your writing, descriptions, and especially dialogue are always SUCH a treat to read! You obviously not only have a strong grasp on each character, but you find a way to make them your own. Not only that, but have I mentioned how much I adore that you and I are on the same wavelength when it comes to plotting out the most chaotic but fun scenarios? Seriously, reading and writing with you is addictive and its always loads of fun. Secondly, you are just an incredibly kind-hearted, loyal, utterly supportive, clever, funny, and amazing human bean and best friend all in all, Caz! Not only that, but I feel like we can just talk about anything for hours. It also still amazes me how many things we not only have in common, but how it feels like we've basically grown up together when we talk about certain similarities (i.e: like eating at the same London restaurant without realizing it ahahah!). I am just so grateful to have known you since I was literally a yucky, gremlin teen, and im glad to be stuck with u. You're truly the other half to our single braincell; the grump to my sunshine; the Eric to my Richard (ofc); Erik to my Charles; The Sundance Kid to my Butch (and vice versa); and like an older sister, even if we're not remotely related via blood ahahah! Thanks for always putting up with my insane ideas, our chaotic hang out times, my (genius) puns, and my butt that never shuts up 😌

You truly are my partner in crime, and I would gladly, accidentally burn a dock with you 😘

@richardxoliverxmayhew

// I don’t know what meme this was cause damn this is from May but I’m totally sobbing right now asdlfkjasdlkfjasdf 😭

[nomans-land-rp]

🎲-One roll for EL Woowoo.

🎲-Aaaaaand one for Swiss Army Nai.~

Both are subject to Rachael and she prays it's nothing she's going to regret.

@splinter-sister

8. A platonic kiss!

He'd woken up to the sensation of someone nudging him awake and saying his name. Still under a blanket of sleep, Nick barely recognized Rachael's voice saying that she couldn't sleep--maybe something about a nightmare, or general restlessness? Either way, he knew the drill; for some reason, he seemed to be the one that everyone in the party bugged in the middle of the night when they had trouble sleeping. Caz said it was because of his body type and way he clung to people in his sleep that brought a sense of security and comfort, but he never really believed that.

Regardless, even though Rachael didn't outright ask to sleep with him, Nick lifted the blanket up with a groggy grunt inviting her in. After she got comfortable snuggled in next to him he put an arm around her and brought her close to his chest. With a soft kiss to the top of her head, his body relaxed again and he went back to sleep.

5. A firm kiss!

That was a disaster--why Rachael insisted he be the one to try and smooth talk their way into the establishment escaped him. A "pretty-boy face" as she put it didn't do jack shit when your attitude reflected how little you wanted to be doing what you were. What need would he have with being able to woo a human woman when he could just take what he wanted if he wanted it badly enough?

That still didn't stop the redhead from mercilessly ragging on how bad his "game" was; he was too stern, too 'constipated' looking, not 'flirty' enough--laughing at him for how awkward and stiff he looked during the whole exchange until the woman rejected him. Nai didn't care that the plain woman wasn't charmed by him; what did annoy him to no end, however, was Rachael's childish teasing and insults. None of these were important skills! It didn't aid in their survival whatsoever!! So why did it drive him insane when this red head gave him such a hard time about it?!

After a comment about his presumed "lack of any physical affection from a woman growing up", the proverbial Tomas' back broke under the weight of the straw it carried. Why it prompted him to reach out and grab the front of her shirt to pull her in, he wasn't entirely sure. Was it the topic of conversation putting the idea in his head to smash his face against hers? Nai just wanted her to shut up--and his emotional subconscious decided that the best way to do that was to yank her in and firmly press his lips against hers.

It was brief as it was sudden, Nai glaring down at Rachael with piercing blue eyes and just the faintest hint of red on the apples of his cheeks.

"Would you just shut up already?" He growled, still holding her by the front of her shirt. "Do something more useful with your mouth instead of incessantly mocking me. Or was this your way of saying you wanted to kiss me?"

[goblinselfshippr]

Caz you are my entire world, my reason for staying. I know I have a hard time forming my own words to tell you, and when I do I feel my mouth fill with cotton and glue shut. That doesn’t mean I don’t feel these things, even after all these years. I know its hard, and it feels pointless right now, but you can’t give up.

Now please stop choosing 3AM to learn a new song, staying up like this is not good for you.

[dontbeajerkdontcallmeataxi]

Here I am again, 11th of December now. It’s 1am, I haven’t left the house all day, recovering myself from a two day bender I manically partook in - no, organized - as a desperate attempt to distract myself from the overwhelming sadness and disappointment that’s been consuming me the past few days. How did I end up here?

Just when I was beginning to feel comfortable, I was startled out of nowhere, like a child whose sweet mother slaps it for the first time. Oh, I remember that feeling, when my father raised his hand on me for the first time. Nothing major, a soft slap it was, nor was it repeated more than a hand full of times, but that first time was really something. That scary feeling of betrayal, when your realize you had blind trust to someone that you shouldn’t and your eyes are forced open. And then you see. You see that maybe they are not who you thought they were, maybe you shut your eyes closed a bit too hard and imagined them to be who you wanted them to be.

For some context, mr dj started ignoring me the other day, allegedly because he is cuckoo (or so he claims) and essentially told me he wanted to keep things more ‘caz’ and although this is the last time I am expressing this thought -verbally or textually- I am shattered. Right I was starting to let lose, trust, care, I was maybe falling in love even, then this. And although we allegedly discussed it and it’s done now, I don’t think I can go back to the way I felt, at least for now, and without some effort on his part.

[justmybookthots]

This Time It's Real

5/5 stars

I AM SCREAMING. I AM SCREAMINGGGGGG.

You know, I’ve always thought the fourteen-year-old romantic I used to be was dead? But maybe… it isn’t?? How is it that this cute little YA made me feel a gazillion more things than most adult romances? 

Ann Liang, I love you so much. I’m officially a hardcore fan now after I read If You Could See The Sun (which I reviewed) and this book. And there’s another book of hers coming next year (I weep! I WEEP! Why are all the books I’m looking forward to only out next year?) which I will DEFINITELY be reading. I am so excited. 

This book. This book. I am incoherent. I am squealing. And this is coming from a person who hates the fake dating trope, and YET. There is definitely an exception to every rule. Maybe it’s because Ann Liang writes her stories in Beijing, with a Chinese cast and setting (I love the personal rep). Or maybe it’s because Caz, AKA the male lead, is soooooo cute. Oh my gosh. CAZ.

Okay. Okay. Let me get my thoughts together before I spiral. The premise is simple: two Chinese high-schoolers, one an aspiring writer, the other a teenage heartthrob actor, fake-dating. I have to say that Eliza's reasons for needing to fake-date sound very valid, but I wasn't convinced by Caz's. All he gets out of it is… Eliza writing his college applications? There's also another reason—him cleaning up his image because of this "scandal"... which never gets touched upon again later in the story, so I don't count that.  

But whatever. I didn't dwell too much on it, because there are so many things I loved:

Caz trying to make Eliza jealous (LMAO) by going into lurid detail about his kiss scene with a girl and getting disappointed when she doesn't seem to care

Caz getting worked up over a pimple and not going to school

Caz being a vain little shit, period

Caz telling Eliza that he wanted her (for real, and not pretend), point-blank. T_T

Caz helping Eliza find her friendship bracelet 

Eliza trying to jog and getting outrun by an old man

Eliza and her PowerPoint Presentation.

Eliza and Zoe. PLATONIC BREAKUPS ARE HARD, IN A WAY HARDER THAN FALLING OUT WITH CAZ. THIS PARAGRAPH GOT ME:

What Eliza's dad said about girls in romance dramas because it is SO TRUE (for the non-Chinese folk out there, 'jiayou' means to 'keep fighting/going'):

My main complaint about this book is really how it ended. I think that Ann Liang ends her books in a really abrupt way, to the point where I don’t feel I got enough closure. The story just concluded about a chapter after Eliza agreed to be with Caz for real, and then… the end. Listen, I think that the build-up is always the highlight of a romance, but I still would have liked for a bit more closure. At least let me see them on one real, proper date before ending the book! 

(Since I'm on the topic of complaints—this one isn't from me, but from some reviewers: they say that Caz isn’t very different from Henry from If You Could See The Sun but I don’t agree? Henry isn’t anywhere as vain as Caz, and he is definitely academically more brilliant than Caz, lol. I thought they were notably different, and I was quite surprised by it. I actually found Caz somewhat more immature... but I adored him just as much as Henry.)

One final mini-complaint of mine before I wrap up this entry: I don’t think that Eliza’s hangup about being with Caz is ever truly addressed. She frets that, yes, Caz may love her now, but they’ll grow apart like she did with Zoe because she’s always on the road (and he is, too). In the end, she changes her thinking to: yeah, maybe I was just afraid all along that he really never did love me but now I’m sure he does. To me, that’s two completely different concerns, and the first still isn’t solved. 

But of course, this is just me nitpicking, and I can shut one eye about it because the rest of the book was just so, so lovely. If I were to nitpick further, I'd say boys like Caz really do not exist (re: young heartthrobs who are so swoony both inside and outside) but the fiction is fictioning, and that's how I LIKE IT.

And you best believe I will be eyeing Ann Liang’s next book when it’s out. In the meantime, I just need to make sure I make it till 2024. 

- 19 Aug 2023

[afoolandathief]

Something Wicked Halloween Nonsense Special

So I wrote this scene a while back and finally decided to clean it up. It currently has no place in the overall plot of the book except to reveal a couple details about Caz and nothing much actually happens in it, but I figured I'd share for Halloween for the sugary-sweet cuteness.

More Something Wicked info here

Taglist (ask to be +/-) below the cut. TWs for food (candy) and some language ↓

Jade walked up to Caz and tossed the plastic vampire teeth at him. Their neon pink clashed horribly against his navy vest. Caz raised his head with the lazy stare of a sated predator.

“Here,” she said, and smirked. “It’s your special day, after all.”

Caz sat up, the pink vampire fangs bouncing off his knee and onto the floor.

“Wait,” he asked, his eyes wide. “How would you know it’s my -?”

Jade cocked her head at him. He clamped his mouth shut.

“Nope, never mind — forget I said anything.”

Jade squeezed onto the couch next to him, swallowing back a snort of laughter.

“Caz,” she began. “Is your birthday actually on Halloween?”

He had picked up the fangs and started cleaning them with a pitch-black handkerchief.

“It is, isn’t it?”

Caz’s narrowed eyes slid over to her.

“Well, if we’re following that ridiculous Gregorian calendar instead of using the proper date, then sure, this would be the six-hundred-and-eighteenth anniversary of my birth.”

She crossed her arms and studied him.

“I figured you’d be the type to want to celebrate your birthday, Caz.”

“I really don’t need people knowing my birth date, Jade,” he replied. “I know you witches can use it to make curses ten times stronger.”

He stood up, his hand moving in a flash of pale flesh from her purse.

“Of course, you’re an idiot who goes and gets a driver’s license so everyone can know,” he said, waving her wallet in the air.

She shot up, reaching for it, but Caz was too fast and too tall.

“You tell anyone about my birthday, Jade, and I swear I’ll hold the biggest, most crowded surprise party on yours in revenge,” he said.

“Jesus, fine Caz,” she said, grabbing her wallet from him. “So, what do you normally do on your birthday, then?”

He ran his hand along the back of his neck and shrugged.

“When you have as many as me it gets less exciting. Sometimes I go out. Every few decades I hold the wildest party. But there’s times when I just stay in. The kids in my building love that cool Mr. Mraz gets the full-sized candy bars.”

“They do not say you’re cool.”

“They so do,” he said.

Letting his hands fall in his pockets, he strolled across her kitchen to the screen door.

“Why’s your porchlight off?” he asked. “People will think no one’s home.”

“I’d hope so,” Jade replied.

“This won’t do,” he said, looking over at the top of her fridge. “Why’s your candy up there?”

He reached up and grabbed the bowl.

“Caz that’s for me and Violet to share,” she said, following him as he went out her front door.

“Aha!” he shouted, turning on the porchlight and speaking in an exaggerated version of his own accent. “Children of the night, what music they make!”

Jade poked her head out and stared down the winding, desolate road.

“There are no ‘children of the night,’” she said. “No kid wants to come down this spooky road. That’s why I live here.”

Caz snorted and reclined in the cracked, plastic chair on the porch.

“That’s what you think, witch,” he said.

Hugging her arms around herself, Jade unfolded a camping chair next to him, if only to try and get some of her candy back.

She was about to either doze off or go back inside when a little light bobbed along the empty road. Jade looked up and saw a four-year-old in a pink dress and wings drag her mother up the front steps.

Caz stood up with the candy bowl under his arm, his mouth glowing pink with plastic fangs.

“Hello, little one,” he boomed in that same accent, and knelt in front of her. “Would you like one, two, three pieces of candy? Ahaha!”

The girl grabbed her mother’s leg and buried her face in it.

“Sorry, she’s a little afraid of vampires,” the woman said.

Caz’s eyes widened.

“Oh no,” he said. “Don’t worry these fangs aren’t real. Look.”

He spat out the pink vampire teeth, holding out the saliva-soaked plastic in his palm.

“See, I told you vampires aren’t real,” the woman told her daughter.

“Oh no, they’re real,” Caz said.

Both the woman and Jade looked at him irritably.

“But I heard,” he said, leaning towards the girl. “That they’re deathly afraid of fairy princesses.”

The girl stared back at him, her mouth twisted up.

“Really?” she asked.

He put the teeth back in his mouth.

“Please have mercy, fairy princess,” he said with a dramatic flourish. “Don’t turn me into a — what are you going to turn me into?”

“A frog,” she said gleefully, hitting him in the head with her wand. He winced.

“Oh no!” he cried, and collapsed on the porch like a dead tree. He sat up in a crouch and attempted a tiny hop.

“Ribbit,” he croaked.

The girl laughed.

“Now you have to eat flies,” she said.

“Flies instead of blood? That’s not fair.”

He glanced into the hollow plastic pumpkin in her hands.

“I hear frogs like Warheads,” he said. “I’ll trade you two giant peanut butter cups for a couple of those.”

“Caz!” Jade said. “I got those for me!”

She got a few odd looks, but didn’t care. The giant peanut butter cups were expensive.

Caz beamed at the candies in his hand as the mother and daughter left.

“I love these things,” he said. “Burned a hole clean through my tongue once, but it was worth it.”

Jade crossed her arms and fell back in the camping chair.

“Can’t believe you gave away two of my giant peanut butter cups,” she said.

“You don’t have enough hard candies in here I can suck on,” he said, as a new group of children approached. “Needed to make a trade.”

Taglist (ask to be +/-): @author-a-holmes, @avian-writes, @diphthongsfordays, @drippingmoon, @ellierenae, @faelanvance, @fearofahumanplanet, @flowerprose, @houndmouthed, @joaniejustwokeup, @leiwritess, @mjayatlas, @purplezebraproductions, @rhymingteelookatme, @somealienquill, @thegreatobsesso, @thelaughingstag, @vylequinne, @writing-is-a-martial-art

[justkillingtimecazimbored]

I have no idea why I'm doing this,I can hear my voice speaking every word I'm typing narrating this shit I'm doing ...and I'm quite conflicted about whether I feel reliefed that no one is seeing this ...or feel underwhelmed bc no one actually seeing it ..

It not Like I don't wanna be viral, but as narrator I do care for having someone at least paying attention to the story I'm telling..after all I'm a storyteller..I always have the talent of ear dropping not I cared about what are ppl saying, but It was more like i wanted to know what they were saying about me when I'm not there..like i mean .......

it ligit wanting to know what said about me aren't we all do that?

And if you asked me what the worst thing I heard said about me..and trust me I heard all of shitty things said about me, and I kinda deserved it ...some at least

but the most fucked up thing anyone ever would say was .. and I'm quoting " Mentally unstable, with desperate sick need for any man!" That was my aunt discussing my life with my lil sister and "I willing to fall in love with any douche bag I meet and I would run my life and get pregnant if I haven't been under monitoring and must be under control "of course there was some moffed conversation I couldn't hear and when I asked my sister what she said she just say "dropped it not worth it" ..but being called psycho slut by a family member(You liked them or not ) that claims to be spiritual awakening and trying to be their higher self is so casually cruel in the name of being honest..and that due to the fact I had a busy dating history growing up from 14 to 19 years old, but all teenagers are,right? it does not make me Slut or anything, I'm not trying to paint my aunt as Regina George kinda mean bitch but she can be like that some of the times, especially that she enjoys reminding me of all the dumb things I did that she knows and make fun of me and I'm supposed to laugh with her or I would be fucking inmature fool that cant take a joke ....and again i can't just say all those shitty things about her and shut the fuck up caz she had a major effect on my life, she thought me alot as I grew how pitarchy is fucking bitch and as a woman I can always be want despite she that she found my dreams quit hilarious as a joke...but again she had her ups and downs with me so I cant say that she is fucking judgmental bitch but she had her fun bullying me undercover with me or my sister or even with her friends who don't even know me...

On the other hand my other hand my other aunt (her younger sister) was a dream ...I was named after her, I loved her so much but I had this weird compulse to hurt her every time she decided that she forgave me...and that kinda comes in the opposite direction of my deep desire to please her as if it was my nu.1 priority.. despite what I wanted I wanted her to be happy with me, but it always backfire in my face doing the worst thing I can do..and now we're on bad terms, not bc I don't love, I do sincerely truely love her ... but after attempting to "jailbreak" with my sister and her 14 old son witch legally could count as abduction caz he is minor and I was 21 and my sister 19 ,I pretty sure that she would have me back...and it okay I get it, I just came to realize that she is way better off without me in her life, and bc I do love her that gives me excuse to hurt her and her family...

And I'm not trying to say oh she is bad person or that I'm a shitty person..I'm just saying that we all humans and we fuck up bad all the time and it's okay, but what pisses me off the most judgmental people who judge you caz they can caz they know you slip ups where they themselves are no fucking angels and maybe have done worse things than you but the only difference is they know what you did and you don't ;period

Till next time

-your narrator

[finsterhund]

The estimated delivery day for the Cazza cuddle clone is July 4th which is a week from now.

I want my puppy :(

I really hope she turns out good. Spot cuddle clone looks amazing but occasionally cuddle clones look weird and idk why. I don’t know if I’ll have the heart to send her back for them to make alterations if she is messed up though.

I don’t want to remove her ashes from the little wooden box they put them in so I’ll probably just put one of those little heartbeat devices in the pocket instead.

Trying to get by. The more time progresses the more I want another dog at least in my life but I’m not ready to have another dog who’s “mine” yet. I let the dog at the lake play with one of Cazza’s balls that she played with at the lake. His name is Scott but roommate wants to name him Buster. He liked to gum on the ball, is a less destructive chewer than Caz. Less gentle when mouthy though. He didn’t like putting his nose under the water so he couldn’t grab the ball out of the lake which was cute. A few of her toys I’m alright with other doggies having and that is one of them.

I was absolutely ready to immediately take in that rottie I found wandering the streets. I think it’s more of a needing to be there for them thing. Scott needs to be rehomed in July so I think when the time comes I’ll be ready to at least have him be my roommate’s dog if not “mine” like Cazza.

I don’t think I’ll be getting lavender puppies for another future dog. They were Cazza’s thing. She picked them out specifically.

Something I want to do, as in an actual motivation in life right now, is I want to do a comparison and review of all the stuffed puppy heartbeat toys out there on the market. Because there’s a whole bunch of them and each of them is different. The one Cazza had for instance is really high quality with replaceable heating pouches that last days, a simple velcro closure, and a heartbeat device that lasts for weeks and doesn’t turn off automatically while the cheapest one you can buy here in-person at walmart is of lower quality and the heart device will shut off automatically after four hours but the heating pouch is reusable so you don’t have to buy new ones. Also the velcro is bulky and a bit of a pain in the ass but I assume that makes it safer if the dog decides they wanna chew on their friend.

It’s way too fucking hot still even though it’s 8PM. Miserable. Roommate says next paycheck we could split the price of an air conditioner and that is the most reasonable thing I could buy so probably gonna do it. I hate summer now that climate change is starting to dramatically alter the heat. Used to love summer because school was out and I could play with the hose but so much of summer fun doesn’t exist if you don’t have a yard. I’m not up for going out to where me and Cazza played because it reminds me of her.

[moonbugg-blog]

aaaaAA holy fuckaroni i spilled mustard all over my BED bc i was eating MUSTARD in BED aaaaa why didn’t natural selection knock out my bloodline long ago. i am a blunder of god

[anywherebuthere]

I hate cishets <33