#and now here i am at 2am with a screw driver in one hand and 17 unfinished tasks

[i-am-dulaman]

You know that scene of Hal from Malcolm in the Middle where he keeps getting distracted by new problems/tasks?

I just snapped out of a bit of hyperfocus by the realization that i am him right now as i screw on the passenger side sun visor in my car at 2am when i was supposed to be watering my plants.

[gallickingun]

could i request 48 with bakugo? i really love how you write him and i love your writing in general 🥰

a/n: you are so kind, thank you so much! my heart is in a fluffy place today so here is some sweet stuff!! well, it ends sweet. beginning is angsty :) 

DID I HEAR SOMEBODY SAY BOXER!BAKUGOU????

Prompt #48: I called you at 2am because I need you.

“Fuck,” Bakugou brushes the heels of his hands over his eyes, one completely swollen shut and the other weeping uncontrollably. He fumbles in his pocket for his phone, bloody fingertips smearing over his screen. Another string of expletives tumble from his lips before he can find your name in his contacts. 

He can’t help but note the time on his phone - 2:37 am.

“Please pick up,” Bakugou swallows the growing lump in his throat, “C’mon, pl-oh, hey.”

Your voice rings out on the other end of the receiver, gravelly from sleep but he can’t even notice because he’s just so thankful that you’re awake now.

His voice cracks when he speaks next, “C-Can you...shit, can you come pick me up?”

You rattle something off, not even asking where he’s at because you already know. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to pry his backside up off the concrete after a particularly difficult match. But, he has always had his main rule - no hospitals. 

He hears the telltale beep of your side of the line cutting out and the nerves roll off of his shoulders in waves. He sinks further down the sidewalk, the brick scraping his already raw skin, but his adrenaline is pumping too hot for him to feel much of it.

When you arrive, less than a half hour later, he’s snoring against the wall of the alleyway, a garbage bin not too far away. You shake your head and step forward, smacking him on the back of the head to wake him up, “Alright, sunshine, time to go. Can you walk?”

“Oi, for Christ’s sake,” Bakugou rubs at the tender skin at the back of his head, “I could have a head injury, you bitch!”

You point your finger in his face, the tip of your nail grazing his bloody nose, “Call me a bitch one more time, Katsuki, and I will leave your ass in the street. They can pick you up tomorrow with the rest of the trash.”

Bakugou wants to snarl, wants to snap and bite at your finger, smarting off to you with some retort, but instead he keeps his mouth shut, shrinking back so you’ll leave him alone. He’s not in the mood to argue, not now. He’s already lost one fight tonight, and he doesn’t really feel like losing another.

Besides, the last argument the two of you had didn’t exactly go his way.

You help him up, lacing his arm over the length of your shoulders. He’s sticky with blood, but still warm to the touch. You help him hobble into your SUV, opening the trunk for him to climb in. You’ve lined the back with a sheet and plastic tablecloth so your car won’t be obscenely dirty after this, and your meticulousness makes him chuckle.

“Feel like a dog,” he mutters, dragging his legs up into the vehicle. 

You toss his bag in next, grazing his bruised thigh as it skids to the other side of the trunk. Bakugou’s eyes go wide and he digs his hands into the sheet underneath him instead of mouthing off like he wants to. The last thing he needs is you tossing him out of the back of your car at high speed.

“You are a dog,” you answer.

The next thing he knows, you’re slamming the trunk and making your way to the driver’s seat. Something in him wants to speak, wants to say thank you or how have you been? However, when you turn up the music and the familiar piercing sound of hard rock hits his eardrums, he knows better than to say anything. Instead, Bakugou leans his head back against your window and dozes in and out of sleep.

He’s shaken awake by the slamming of your door, the soles of your boots stomping against the concrete of your garage. The trunk door opens and he squints his eyes against the bright LED light attached to the ceiling. He swallows, snatching his bag as he swings his legs over the bumper. It hurts, and his face must show it because you step closer.

He waves you away, insistent on dragging his own ass inside. You take a stride backward and watch as he struggles to stand upright. His knees give out and a string of curse words part his lips but before he can crumble to the ground, you’re underneath him, catching his body in your arms. You lift him up as much as you can, thankful he’s shed the flashy costume in favor of a signature black tank top and cargo pants. It’s much lighter and not nearly as bulky.

The two of you hobble over the threshold and towards the bathroom. It takes a few minutes because he’s slow and heavy in your hands, but eventually you make it.

“Get in the tub,” you instruct, turning on the water. You disappear into the hallway to grab a few towels and the first aid supplies, which gives him enough time to try and slip out of his tank. 

When you return, he’s got his elbows stuck in his shirt, unable to yank it over the top of his head. You sigh, “You’re hopeless, you idiot.”

You snag his shirt and tug it over his head, having to extend your arms all the way given his height. Bakugou hisses as the tank sticks to a particular wound, the crusted blood on his shirt the only thing keeping it plugged. You ball up the fabric at the hem and give it a final tug, tossing it in the sink once it’s peeled from his body.

“God, what kind of guy did you fight?” You examine the cut which is now seeping blood, crimson dripping down the contours of his obliques. Bakugou peers down at you, a grimace ever present on his face, “Fuckin’ crazy ass. Fingernails were knives, super strength and shit.”

You shake your head and huff out a laugh, “Do you need help?”

The word ‘yes’ never leaves his mouth, but the wounded look in his eyes tells you all that you need to know. You unbutton his pants and drag the cargos slowly down his legs, careful not to reopen any major wounds. You do notice a few scrapes and gashes on his thighs and calves, making you wince at the sight. He steps out of the pants, the sensation of the cool tile welcome against his hot feet.

You’ll never get over the way his sweat smells - or rather, doesn’t smell. The scent radiating off of him reminds you of a campfire, of a summer evening spent in front of a set of flames, making s’mores and laughing with friends. His quirk seems to have nothing but upsides - not only is he both offensively and defensively a force of nature, but it also gives him a sweet aroma that deters the stench of salty sweat in favor of sugary nitroglycerin.

Bakugou kicks off his underwear, facing away from you, and you’re able to drink in his full form - he’s been taller than six foot since the last you could remember and it would seem he’s filled out even more in the past couple of months than when you last saw him. Even when he’s bruised and battered, he’s still beautiful, that much you know.

As he winces and his eyes close, you take the time to look over his shattered body. He’s got blooming purple and blue bruises all over his torso, little red cuts to offset the color range. Even still, the solid way he’s build, muscle and sinew wrapped around dense bones, makes your heart turn in your chest.

Bakugou breaks you from your trance as he steps into the bathtub, wincing and gasping as the water hits his open wounds. He sinks down to his neck in the bath water, the bubbles doing just enough to hide him from you.

“Damn,” he rolls his shoulders, swallowing the lump caught in his throat. He rolls his neck and his jugular pulses obviously, jaw muscles tensing under the pressure of his teeth as they grind together.

You drag the damp rag over the cut on his shoulder, trying to ignore the way his face screws up in pain. You sigh, “I think you’re gonna need stitches. Are you sure you don’t wan-”

“No hospitals,” he shakes his head, “you know what would happen.”

A growl rolls around in your throat but you swallow it, instead focusing on cleaning his wounds. Your cheeks heat from the closeness of his naked body, even though he’s submerged in bathwater and injured from head to toe. Bakugou has always been able to get you heated, no matter the situation.

“You can get your legs,” you tell him, wiping at his face with a new rag, staining the grey fabric red. Tears settle in the bottom of your eyelids, threatening to spill over the more you think about the situation he’s in. Despite the fact that he’s there completely out of his own volition, it still makes your heart wrench seeing him broken down like this.

The water is tinged a reddish brown when you’re done and he unplugs the bathtub. You hand him the towel before you get an eyeful of him, walking to stand in the doorway while he dries off.

“I set you some clothes on the back of the toilet,” you choke out the words, tilting your head to look up at the ceiling. He’s chuckling but it’s cut off by a grimace, “Still haven’t burned these yet?”

You kick your foot against the carpet in the hall, “Katsuki, just because you pissed me off doesn’t mean I’m not still your best friend.”

The words hurt as you say them, but you have to spit them out so they don’t die in your stomach. Being labeled as something so platonic has haunted you for decades now, ever since those playground days spent with the blonde, trying to pick up his mess and put back together those he’d hurt.

Bakugou makes the toilet seat shudder when he collapses on top of it, body hunched over from effort. He sighs, “I know you hate this.”

It’s his version of an apology, of words that he can’t ever seem to spit out right. It’s the exact reason you told him to leave you out of his irresponsible and illegal activities. Using quirks to fight was considered a heavy offense, landing some individuals life in prison. Katsuki learned to fight on the streets, and when he wasn’t accepted into U.A., he turned to underground fighting rings to satiate his need for justice and penance. 

“You’re right,” you gulp, turning to crouch in front of him. You’re on your knees when you pull out the suture kit, “I do hate this. So why did you call me?”

His hand finds the fabric of your hoodie, curling around it to use as an anchor as you start to stitch up the particularly large gash on his rib cage. Bakugou grits his teeth, the answer coming out strained, “You’re all I have.”

Unfortunately, it’s the truth. Bakugou has become a rather recluse individual, relying on specific people rather than many. Deku earning a quirk and flying to the top of UA’s class was like a kick between the legs, something Bakugou wasn’t sure he could ever recover from. To watch his childhood rival rise on the charts, closing in on the other Pro Heroes until it appeared he would challenge even All Might in ranking, did nothing but tear down Bakugou’s confidence even more.

You noticed that he started to get involved in more reckless, high stake fights. He would call you, barely breathing, and beg you to take him home and put him back together. It helped that you had become a nurse while he was learning how to use his quirk to make money under the table.

And eventually you hit your limit.

“Katsuki, this has gone far enough!” you shouted, tears gathering in your eyes. You sighed, clenching your hands to fists, “It’s time to choose. I won’t be a part of this any longer.”

Bakugou growled, stepping forward even though he could only see you with one eye, the other swollen shut, “I don’t take orders from you!”

Your lower lip quivered and you threw the bloody stitches in the sink, your fingers worse for wear after patching him up so many times, “Eventually it’s just not worth it, Kacchan. Eventually it’s too much.”

“Maybe for a weakling like you,” he spits the words like venom, and you recoil as if they’ve stung, “but I’m strong enough to handle it.”

You nodded, nostrils flaring to keep yourself from giving away too much of your feelings on your face, “Then handle it by yourself.”

The memory alone brings the threat of tears to your eyes, heat gathering at your temples and making your forehead throb. You swallow the lump of emotion multiplying in your throat, begging your feelings to get out of the way so you can do this one thing, and then he can leave.

You’re sighing again, the sight of his swollen face making your whole body hurt, “God, doesn’t this get old?”

You wash his face with antiseptic before using a butterfly bandage to seal the wound on his face. The bruised eye will just have to heal with an ice pack and some pain medication, not much you can do so close to his dainty organs.

“All I know is my fists, you of all people should get that,” he snaps, voice teetering on the edge of patronizing. His hand flattens against your side, fingers curling around your ribs, “It’s been too long and I’m too far gone. It’s too late.”

You’re sliding forward now and he can feel your thighs settle atop his so he grasps you on either side, keeping you anchored to him as you work at his face. He has a few spots near his hairline and jaw that need to be stitched back together and you focus all of your attention on them, pushing away the reality that he’s holding you just the way you like, just the way you want. 

You’ve imagined him holding you like this too many times to count. You always wanted to feel his hands on your body, keeping you enraptured in his presence, eyes glued in on your face while you sit in silence. Even if there were no conversation to be had, you would have been happy to find solace in his touch.

“S’never too late, Kacchan.”

The sound of you calling him by the name you used when you were small, when you were always chasing after him, it’s intoxicating. He swears he could get off on your voice alone - the way your lips curl around his name, how his chest tightens when you’re this close. The blood pumping in his veins is so loud he’s sure you can hear it thudding under his skin.

Bakugou tilts his head, looking up at you with his one good eye, hands falling to your thighs, “I’m sorry.”

An audible gasp parts your lips and you immediately blush, hating yourself for your outburst. It is rare for him to speak those words, to let loose the threads of honesty that haunt his mind. His face looks so open, so bare - eyes blown wide and jaw hanging open just slightly so you can see the pink of his tongue.

“Kacchan,” you shake your head, tears resurfacing as raw emotion claws at your chest like an enraged beast. You tie off his suture and drop your hands to his shoulders, thumbs brushing over the dense muscles connecting his neck to his throat, “Don’t.”

“All you ever wanted me to do was to be sorry and now that I’m saying it, you’re telling me ‘don’t’?” Bakugou’s voice rises with every word, his fingertips biting into the fleshy parts of your hips. He grinds his teeth together and his nostrils flare as he attempts to tame the fiery outburst that sits on his tongue, begging to be unleashed in a raging fury. 

Your lower lip wobbles and he surprises you by brushing the pad of his thumb over the fullest part of your lip, effectively stealing your breath. He is being kind, gentle even, something you have not seen from him in quite some time. This is the Katsuki you know, this is the Katsuki you cherish.

There has always been something between you and Bakugou, ever since the two of you could figure out that you had emotions, but were competent enough to know how to hide them. He bottles himself up until he’s ready to explode, and you feel too much but your fear reigns you in and keeps you quiet. Neither of you spoke about it, although everyone around you could feel it, could see it. 

Maybe that’s why you snapped at him all those months ago, telling him to choose. Maybe you wanted him to choose you so you could surge forward and kiss the breath out of him. But then he pushed you away, sidelined you as if you meant nothing to him; almost as if abusing his body and breaking his spirit was more important than you and the bond you shared.

“I-I’ve been so fucking lonely since you left.” Bakugou runs his fingertips down your jaw until he’s got your neck in his grasp, fingers spread out without issue over your throat. The tips of his fingers tickle the nape of your neck and you want to fall into him, to let him take you alive and never let you go. He could do away with you and you’re sure you’d still say thank you, still beg him to do it again.

Bakugou swallows and his throat bobs, but you snap out of your stupor to shake your head to fire back at him, “I didn’t leave, you chose fighting over our friendship.”

“Quit bullshitting yourself,” he growls, voice grating against his throat. You’ve never heard him so raw and real, so emotional. Bakugou grits his teeth together just long enough for your eyes to track the way his jaw muscles clench, “You wanted a confession out of me that night. You wanted something I couldn’t give you. And now you’re upset about it.”

And yet, the way that his hands hold you gingerly and warmth seeps into his carmine irises makes you think that he doesn’t believe what he’s saying, or rather what he’s denying. You roll your lips together, trying to rid yourself of some of the tension building up in your body. His eyes track the motion and it gives way to even more of his inner honesty to be put on display.

“Kacchan, I-”

Bakugou surges forward and kisses you square on the mouth, a bruising action that is over as soon as it’s started.

He pulls away, breathing heavy as his one healthy eye struggles to stay open at the sensation of your lips. His eyelashes flutter against the tops of his cheeks but you can’t notice because your eyes won’t even open. Your jaw is unhinged, mouth parted while you try to absorb what just happened.

“K-Kacchan,” you whisper, your voice too close to wanton. 

His breath stutters over your lips, both hands on your face to hold you in place as he breathes you in. Bakugou’s hands are hot, warm against your cheeks, that familiar sweet scent making your head dizzy. You’ve missed the comforting smell, the reminder that he is close, within an arm’s reach. Other’s describe the scent as burnt sugar, but to you it’s a warm caramel, a familiar haze that makes you feel at home. 

The both of you open your eyes at the same time, time moving slow as your irises meet. Your palms drift to his chest, knees shifting just enough so your hips brush his groin. Bakugou grunts, eyes dropping to your lips as his waist rolls upward to meet yours, “Fuck.”

A moment of hesitation passes between the two of you before you clash together in a searing kiss. His lips slot between yours as his hands drift into your hair, holding you close to him while he makes quick work of your mouth. Bakugou, even battered and tired, is skilled at knowing when to tug your lips and when to soothe you with his tongue. It’s as if he can read your mind, making moves you didn’t know you wanted him to make before your mind can catch up with your body. 

“Kacchan,” you whine into his mouth as he sucks on your lower lip, digging his teeth into the sensitive flesh. One of his hands drifts to your hips, fingers digging into your backside as best he can from this angle.

He groans, “Love it when you call me that, shi-baby, say it again.”

You echo the name repeatedly, feeling the desperation in him grow with each syllable. He’s probably opened one of his wounds with the way his muscles are tensing but he couldn’t care less. All he’s thinking about is the way you taste, the way you feel. Your mouth is warm and gentle in comparison to his raging power, the desire to overwhelm you like an opponent sits in his belly, a fire being stoked with every motion. The touch of your hands in his hair is grounding to an extent; reminding him that he’s here, with you, and it’s not just a dream.

Eventually you have to part long enough to breathe, but he starts down the path of your throat, open-mouthed kisses leaving a patch of warmth behind. It’s as if he’s unable to let you go now that he’s had a taste of you. You whine, digging your hands into his shoulders while he works at your skin.

“I should’ve picked you,” he murmurs against your collarbone. He sucks a small hickey into the thin skin before nudging his nose over your jugular, “I-I should’ve made the right choice.”

You’re gasping for breath, the sheer force of his kisses from earlier still leaving you wanting. You look down at him, eyes blown wide and lips bruised from use, and you know that he’s telling the truth. There’s something in his irises that he can’t hide - a certain vulnerability you’re sure he’s only shown to you.

“Suki, I-” You swallow the hesitant lump in your throat, every word you’ve had pent up in your lungs for the past few months begging to be freed. Bakugou shakes his head and kisses you again, mouth silencing you before you can let out something too honest. He has to tell you the truth first; he’s been sitting on it for months, percolating with it and allowing it to eat him alive.

“I fucked up, okay? I get that.” Bakugou nuzzles his nose against yours, keeping his eyes closed because otherwise he knows he won’t be able to finish his sentences. “You scared me shitless, and I screwed everything up. I know that now. And I’m sorry.”

You brush your hands through his hair, tugging gently to reassure him. He huffs against your neck, “I wanted to choose you, I swear.”

“I wanted you to pick me,” you exhale, and suddenly you are Atlas and the world is being lifted off of your shoulders when the truth is spoken. Tears collect in the corners of your eyes but you know that it’ll frustrate him if you start crying so you lean back to try and keep them at bay. After taking a short breath, you whisper, “But I’m sorry I ever made you choose. That wasn’t fair.”

He kisses the base of your throat, lips muffled against the skin, “I-I can’t promise you I’ll just quit. This is my life right now. But, I-”

“You can’t change for me,” you tug on the back of his head to get him to face you. “I know that now.”

You’re sure his irises have never been so soft, so pale; amber gazing up at you in awe of your words. His lips are parted and you take advantage of the moment to lean forward and take his mouth captive. You slip your tongue between his lips, mapping out the curves of his teeth and gums. You moan when he suckles on the tip of your tongue, biting down gently on the base, enough to make you squirm.

He peels back to press his forehead to yours, gasping for breath so his chest brushes against your torso. Bakugou notices the glassy look in your eyes, the way your mouth loses speed the longer he kisses you.

“C’mon,” he murmurs into the curvature of your neck, “let’s go to bed.”

You blink slowly, “B-But, Kacchan, I-”

“No buts, loser,” he picks you up and tosses you over his good shoulder. A quirk-laced slap to your backside makes you squeal, “Kacchan!”

Bakugou chuckles, spanking you again, but this time much lighter. He rubs his thumb over your thigh as he walks you to your room, the trek all too familiar, “You’re falling asleep while you’re kissing me, loser. It’s past four in the morning.”

It does not take long for you to fall asleep after he’s wrapped himself around you underneath the covers, ankles crossing beneath the blankets. His hand is in your hair and his ears perk at the sound of your gentle snoring, adoration making his mouth turn upward and his eyes shine. Bakugou buries his mouth in the crown of your hair, kisses dropped over your scalp like flowers planted in a garden.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, squeezing his good eye shut, the other throbbing in a dull rhythm.

Somehow those words are easier to say when you’re asleep.

---

a/n: well, that started off alright and then slowly digressed into... dumpster fire. but hey, what’re you gonna do! i bet you hoes thot you was gettin’ some spice, huh??

taglist: @kamehamethot @simplybakugou @lady-bakuhoe @todorki-shoto @redhawtriot @burnedbyshoto @cookies-n-chaos @katsukisprincess @rat-suki @cutesuki--bakugou @k-atsukidayo @bnhatrashh @succulent-momma @voiceofreader @multifandom-fanfics @that-one-enthusiast @bitchtrynafck @cutest-celestial-princess @blue-peach14 @pastel-prynce @bokunokangae @shoutodoki @bakuoushoe @tenyaingenium @hoe-biscus @kingtamakimurder @myherofuckademia @myherowritings @lxvely-mha @myherorambles @ramen-rambles @bratwritings @samanthaa-leanne @orokayagi @tumblingintothefeelstrain @sunbeamwrites @bnhawritten @bnhasidebin @lovekatsukibakugo @aizawamirite @plusultrawritings @bnha-violetnote @yuueimagines @suckersuki @heroes-landing @bnha-mha-imagines @heroesreverie @pink-imagines @brattyquirks @kazooli

[selfawarejester]

HALO: SHADOWS OF REACH — A REVIEW BY A SOMEWHAT ENTHUSIASTIC FAN

Alright, so after forever and to much demand (okay, that's a lie, no one asked for this), I've finally finished my review of the newest installment in the Halo novels: Shadows of Reach. Obviously, there are spoilers inbound.

RATING: 8/10

This could've easily been a ten if not for some parts of the story that irked me, but overall a fun read— I'd read it again.

A VERY LONG SUMMARY (OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD, SO PLEASE TELL ME IF I MESSED SOMETHING UP)

Welp, the first half is just John being very emo about Cortana and pretty much ignoring his teammates' emotional states (a large part of the book is that, actually), and introducing old wise man Major Van Houte, no nonsense Crew Chief Stella Mukai (who made John laugh, huzzah!!) and Lieutenant Maks "Hotshot kid" Chapov (don't get too attached). They perform intricate aerial maneuvers and the likes to avoid being spotted, but they are and they crash.

After a couple close encounters with Banished banshees that act like Keeper banshees for some odd reason, three-quarters of Blue Team gets their cans kicked by actual Banished banshees and get separated from Linda-058 and Special Crew (which are the flight crew btw). Whilst heavily wounded, they are held at gunpoint by the Viery Militia who also make fun of them while at gunpoint. (Rude, but also very funny). Militia Leader Lady assumes that they're there to help them liberate Reach (and refuses to let John tell her otherwise) and gets pissy about it afterwards - but she's under a lot of pressure, so it's fine - and Fred is Concussed™, leading to ridicule and shade from John and Kelly for pretty much the rest of the book.

There's a lot of stuff in the middle about the Viery Militia, so hightlight reel: John manages to ask his doc a personal question (Go, John!), and he and Kelly are driven to meet the commanders of the Militia by sweet Bella Disztl, five time winner of the Tantalus-10,000 (don't worry if you forget, they bring it up in every scene she's in). I like Bella, partly because she looks like my OC, but in general. Unfortunately, she falls prey to the Halo driver curse and bites it later on in the book.

Despite a lot of angst and distrust once the commanders find out BT is not there to help free Reach, they decide to take the Armory from the Banished and call in reinforcements from Infinity.

As they launch the assault on the Banished armory, everyone without MJOLNIR (and Chapov and Van Houte who are out of range) gets knocked out due to lack of breathable levels of oxygen in the tunnels (and they talk about the brain damage that's caused when your oxygen is cut off for a few minutes, which makes me and all the other RvB fans sad) and the Spartans are forced to do it alone, shocker. Chapov saves the day with an innovative tactic to take down massive amounts of Banished vehicles, go Chapov!

We finally get to see Halsey (who finally has a prosthetic arm), Lasky (who likes to say heck) and Palmer (who is still Very Done with basically everyone), so that's cool.

There's a second attack on the armory as the Banished try to take back what is theirs, and here is where Bella dies :( But, on the other hand, a hundred and twenty Spartans (which is still super shocking to me) save the day. Palmer and Blue Team have a very odd interaction wherein Palmer is treated like she's in the wrong despite being perfectly reasonable?? (I'm just going to read this part one more time because the first time around was at 2AM) Anyways, Palmer takes over freeing Reach and the Spartans go to the Highlands to finish their actual mission.

So, I've neglected to mention Castor's arc in the book because it's basically all the same thing, so highlight reel: There's a badass Sangheili called 'Gadogai who works for Escharum. This dude is the right hand man of Atriox, aka the big boss. Anyways, Deukalion (where are my TW fans at?!) and Ballas are dokabs of two of the other Banished clans who are fighting over the pioneers' land, like a bunch of bitches, instead of doing their jobs and Castor's really mad about it. Castor continually demonstrates his cleverness but as always misses a key factor and his plans get screwed. Also, Orsun's son is around, so that's cool. There's lots of Jiralhanae politics and crap that I'm not really going to go into here. Also, Veta Lopis and the Ferrets are there with their kick-ass hairstyles. Escharum shows up and Castor's ploy to let BT guide them to this Portal to the Ark finally works out and things are going good for the Keepers' Leader.

BT finally makes it to the mountains, and after a fun aerial chase, Chapov is mortally wounded and manages to take out, like, four Banshees before he dies. The Banished go for the Portal while BT rush for SWORD base, there's another large scale fight with Jetpack Brutes and Longswords and Broadswords, but BT makes it to SWORD base, and Fred goes check out the corridor to the Portal (which they get into after a lot of events). They grab three cryo-bins and a box with a sabre symbol on it, and John manages to mess up his wounded legs and is very nice to Kalmiya's fragment. Sweet.

The Freta reunion is painfully brief, and leaves Fred with confusion and a message capsule. The Portal is opened, the Keepers turn on the Banished, but ultimately no consequences are reaped (shocker) and Gadogai jumps ship over to the Keepers. Cortana is alerted by the Portal and a Guardian is showing up and everyone hauls ass away from Reach.

Captain Veronica Dare is still alive (yay) and gives Fred part of the message because "it's none of ONI's business" which is amazing and awesome and once again, yay. Halsey is pained by how much Blue Team had gotten beaten up (which I am still confused by) and Palmer and the rest of the UNSC forces are stranded on Reach.

FINAL THOUGHTS

It was definitely lots of fun, I'll give Denning that. They finally brought in that slipspace crystal from First Strike which I've been bitching about forever, which is cool.

However, lots of elements from his previous books touch over in this one, like continually getting the badass, untouchable Spartans absolutely pwned and the subtle traces of sexism surrounding his treatment of Kelly, Linda and now Palmer get on my nerves.

One thing that bites at me was that Kelly got shot in the goddamn chest and she was just doing perfectly fine. Her coping with it was not shown at all. It gets more and more obvious with each book that Denning is pretty much clueless on what to do with either of our badass Spartan ladies, which is discouraging, especially compared to the amazing force-of-nature that is Veta Lopis!

And I really didn't like the fact that John was just sad about Cortana. I mean, there's no actual conflict about the fact that Eviltana (who I will always think about as a different person from my blue bby) is a mass-murdering fanatical bitch. Like she's just misunderstood and not an actual dictator. And he doesn't seem to give a damn about any of the Spartans obvious signs of trauma over any of this stuff. He just dismissed Kelly's valid concern about saying Cortana's name, which is kind of OOC, but okay.

That being said, they better not make another Cortana model, because that was something Actual!Cortana was very messed up about; being replaced like that. If they do, they better make it very clear that she's a different entity, like Kalmiya.

Congrats and thank you for reading through all of this stuff! Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to hit me up regarding anything Halo!

[littlepuddingsugg]

Hey Bartender

Request: Joe goes home with Y/N who is the bartender.

Mild Smut*

“Hey mate, can I get two more?” Joe gave the barman a nod as he sat his empty glasses down. 

“What, these aren’t on the house?” Jack joked as he appeared at the bar next to Joe.

“Not this time boys, I’m off for the night and can’t babysit you two.” The barman joked back to the boys he had gotten to know quite well from working in a bar for so long. 

“What?!?The night is still young and you're leaving us.” Jack said taking his glass on the bar and putting it to his lips.

“Hey, I’m sure the next guy is just as fun.” Joe said reassuring Jack.

“It’s actually a girl who's coming in, Y/N is her name. She usually works the day shifts but was available tonight on such short notice.” The barman said looking at his watch. 

“You hear that Joe-”

“I wouldn’t get any ideas if I were you. She doesn’t need the distraction.” The barman said cutting off Jack before looking past them with a smile, “And here she is.”

“Hey” Y/N said as she walked around the bar.

“You ready to tag in? It's a very busy night” The barman said gesturing over to the seemly empty bar. 

“Ha, I think I can handle it. Have fun with whatever it is your doing tonight.” Y/N said as she waved off her coworker.

In the short few seconds it had taken Y/N to get behind the bar, Jack had left Joe’s side, patting him on the back as he wandered over to a group of girls he’d been eyeing. Joe was still sat at the bar, slowly slipping his drink as he watched Y/N move around behind the bar. She looked up from her work briefly, flashing him a quick smile before moving to help the person who had walked up to the bar. 

>>>

 “So what are you doing later? After work that is.” Joe asked, leaning onto to the bar a little more.

“Um, probably nothing seeing it’ll be 2am and everything is closing.” Y/N said making Joe blush. 

“Well if you wanted to do something, I’ve got a pretty sick table football table if you’re interested.” 

“What about your mate?” Y/N asked looking over to the man who’d occasionally make his way over to the bar to talk to Joe.

“Oh he's fine, he’ll probably leave in a bit anyway.” Joe said glancing over to his mate who was still talking to a few girls. 

“Well if you’re willing to hang around here until close...I am pretty good at table football.” Y/N said flashing Joe a cheeky smile.

“I can wait,” Joe said taking another sip of his drink, “I’ve been looking for a new opponent, all my mates are shit.”

It was now 2:15 and Y/N had just finished sweeping the floor when Joe came back into the bar. 

“Hey the car is here, ready whenever you are.”

“Perfect timing, just finished.” Y/N said putting the broom away and grabbing the things from behind the bar before following Joe out to the car he had ordered that would take him back to his place. 

“Hey thanks mate, have a good night.” Joe told the driver as he hopped out of the car and lead you up to his flat. 

“Welcome to the home of the Table Football King.” Joe said as he pushed his front door open.

“Is that what you’re calling yourself?” Y/N laughed walking in. 

“I’d be willing to play for that title if you’re ready to take on a champ.” Joe smirked as he nudged her side with his elbow. 

“If you’re willing to give up your title, you’re on.” She said, pushing past him and over to the table. 

“Ha! We’ll see about that. First to 10?” Joe laughed as he walked over to the table. 

“First to 10.” Y/N confirmed before dropping the ball into the table and scoring on an unprepared opponent. 

“Hey! I wasn't ready.” Joe pouted as he watched her move her goal piece.

“Tough luck Joe.” She said grabbing the ball and dropping it back into the table. 

“WOO HOO!” Y/N yelled as she jumped up and down before taking a giant swig of her beer. 

“Hey, we’re not done yet. You’re first goal didn’t count remember so we’re still tied.” Joe said thinking of an excuse to continue the game he had just lost. 

“No way Joe. I won fair and square.” 

“Except when you cheated...” Joe said taking a sip of his beer.

Y/N set her beer down on the table and gave Joe a look, “Sore loser?”

“No, I just don’t like losing to someone who cheated.” He said causing Y/N to roll her eyes, “We’re going to have to have a rematch.”

“I don’t think I can play another game right now.” Y/N said rubbing her temples.

“We could go for round two in the morning, along with a round two of something else.” Joe smirked as he walked closer to Y/N. 

“Pretty sure for a round two, you have to have a round one...” Y/N said as goosebumps ran over her body at Joe’s hand on her waist. 

“I suppose you’re right.” Joe said before pressing his lips against hers. 

Their lips lingered together for a little while before Y/N snaked her arms around Joe’s neck, pulling him closer to her, deepening the kiss. 

Joe pulled away from the kiss and tugged her up to his room. Shutting the door behind them, the couple began tugging clothes over their heads before reconnecting their lips. 

The two moved their way into the dark room, Joe volunteering to go backwards as he knew the layout of his bedroom. When his heals hit the end of the bed, he fell backwards, Y/N laughing as she fell on top of him.

Pushing her off of him, Joe hover back over her, kissing her lips softly before moving to her neck. Y/N’s hand ran down Joe’s exposed abs before down over his boxers, feeling him harden under her touch. 

“Eager are we?” Joe said pulling away. 

“It’s been a long night.” Y/N said as she watched Joe grab a condom from his bedside table, glancing at the clock as well, 3:58.

“Good thing you don’t work tomorrow. We’ll have time for round two after our lie in.” Joe said pulling his boxers down and sliding the condom on while Y/N pulls off her panties. 

“Already planning ahead?” Y/N smirked before connecting her lips with Joe’s as he positioned himself at her core before slowly pushing into her causing her to let a moan escape her mouth. 

Joe slowly started to move his hips back and forth, picking up pace when Y/N moaned out louder. 

“God Joe.” She said as Joe moved his lips to her neck, sucking harshly.

Joe continued to pick up the pace of his hips are he felt Y/N’s walls clench around him. 

“I’m close Joe” Y/N panted out as she screwed her eyes shut and arched her back. 

Joe thrusted into Y/N a few more times before she released around him followed short by Joe who continued to milk out their orgasms. 

Joe rolled himself off of Y/N, moving to throw away the condom before crawling back into bed. 

“I could go for a round two.” Y/N said with a yawn as she rolled over into Joe. 

“Yeah? Was I that good?” Joe asked, running a hand through her hair.

“No you were quite shit actually,” she paused and looked up at Joe who's face shifted from confusion to annoyance. 

“You cheated! I should’ve won by default!” Joe said rolling his eyes.

“Mhmm, I guess we’ll see tomorrow.” Y/N yawned again as she snuggled closer to Joe’s chest.

[dandelliongirl]

Suddenly

it’s almost December.

The last time I wrote in here November had just started. Where do these weeks go.

A lot has been happening in the past 3 or so weeks. I’ve had a lot of meetings and work stuff to attend to, I’ve been studying for the JLPT like crazy and our ballet group finished the choreo for our Christmas recital. I’ve also been watching a lot of streams and eating my weight in chocolate to try and survive. I dug up some Christmas music and I’ve been struggling to get my thesis work finished for this year so that I can hand it in for feedback. My friend an I have done 4 whole JLPT practice exams and I’ve passed like 3/4 of them. Not with great results but at least there is a slight possibility of passing if the real deal isn’t a lot harder than the practice ones. I can’t believe it’s going to be over in a week from now...

I spent a weekend (my only free Saturday until Christmas) with my cousins at their place playing AC: Origins and eating a ton of candy. It was such a fun weekend and I definitely enjoyed the visuals and the story of AC:O. I only barely made it to Alexandria because of side questing but if it was not for the damn uPlay thingy I would probably buy the game because it was interesting. Still don’t care about the modern story since Desmond’s death so they kind of screwed that stuff up but hey whatever.

On the 15th I ordered my new modular 650W corsair PSU in an attempt to fix my dx error with frostbite games. They had some issues in sending the thing over but I got it in a week anyway. My friend helped me put it in place (and by that I mean she put it in place for me) but it absolutely did not help with my problem and I’m desperate. I got a GTX1070 from a Black Friday sale, it’s resting on my table right now. We’re supposed to get it set up on Wednesday and I’m praying to god it helps because aside from this thing I’m seriously out of ideas as to how to fix it and this stuff is costing me a lot of money that I could be buying idk food with. I’m being unreasonably childish and upset over this issue but it’s just that it’s been a problem for at least 6 months now and I’ve tried pretty much everything barring re-installing Windows, which is something I’d rather not do because of a shitty BioWare game, and which I won’t be able to do until I turn in my thesis anyway so yeah. Praying that my new GPU helps since the drivers for the 760 are lacking a lot of settings that people on the forums are suggesting might help with the problem. Maybe it’s just too outdated even though the minimum requirement for MEA is 660 or something along those lines and I’ve been playing DAI for years without issues... Who knows at this point.

In more exciting and happier news my mum came to visit me one day to tell me Santa is going to bring me a Yamaha Clavinova CLP-625 piano for Christmas. It blew my mind because I never seriously considered I’d be getting a piano in my apartment and that I’d just graduate and move into a detached house somewhere in the suburbs and move my acoustic piano there with me. I’m SO excited to be playing the piano again, and especially now that I can play all kinds of Christmas songs for the season. At the same time I feel super guilty and awful for “making” my mum get me such an expensive gift. Obviously mum wanted me to get one because she said she’s been looking at electric pianos for years ever since I moved to an apartment but holy DAMN HELL it’s 1400 something euros. Anyway I’m supposed to have my clavinova delivered tomorrow and mum is coming to assemble it with me in the evening. Right now because of the bunny it’s a bit of a mystery as to where I’m going to fit the thing but the bunny might be leaving in January since his owner is moving back home. I am also a bit upset because I won’t necessarily have room for my Christmas tree this year but getting a piano that I can plug headphones in or turn the volume down is going to make up for it. I just wish I didn’t feel this guilty... I feel undeserving and ungrateful.

I saw my friend from day care a couple of weeks ago. She came over to watch a movie with me, and we’re going to have a pre-Christmas party together on the 9th, which I’m super looking forward to. This week alongside PSU installing and disappointment me and my other friend celebrated Harvest Festival in ACNL. On Friday I went over to help a third friend with her move and I got a bunch of cute clothes from her that she was going to be throwing out. I worked at a showroom floor in an exhibition all Saturday and it was a super hectic and tiring day. On Sunday me and mum went for lunch and did some shopping for some independence day candles and such before I went to teach my classes.

This last week before the JLPT is awful. Me and my JLPT friend are meeting up every morning for some practice, and I have to get the last of my research literature into my thesis before Saturday. After the exam I’m taking a few days off completely, and then I’ve got 1½ weeks to proofread my thesis. I’m also going to be prioritizing sleep this week and promised myself I would start heading to bed at 10pm every day. I am still sleep deprived from my Black Friday sales watching at midnight and organizing my closet at 2am on Saturday. I haven’t been able to sleep in for a long time so I’m hoping that I can get myself awake by the time I have to do the JLPT. Anyway this week’s schedule is packed but I’m so excited for it to be over. Anyway it’s 9:56pm so I’m off to bed.

♥ I hope I get my piano tomorrow. ♥ And I hope I finally pass JLPT. ♥ And I hope my PC gets fixed so that I can spend Christmas vacation gaming. ♥ And I hope I finish my thesis on time and that I get nice and kind feedback.♥ Just putting it out there for the universe, I’ve tried to work hard for all this (except the piano but I promise I’ll practice on it a lot!) PLEASE let it happen. ★★★ ~