#then i should get to fuck an unfairly hot dude as part of it

[americachavez]

did cas really tell dean to kneel before their new god? did that actually happen? i thought him beating the shit out of dean in that alley was the most unrestrainedly horny thing this show had ever done ACTUALLY you know what scratch that new question: top horny moments from the cw's supernatural (2005 - 2020)

getting this ask feels like my sins of the last week have been weighed against the Trials I Have Gone Through since the premier of supernatural on the wb in september of 2005 and I’m not sure if it is a punishment or reward

some notes before we begin:

the ep with dean’s male siren was like, conceptually horny but not actually that horny because the dude was uglie. I’m sorry to this man

all you sam girls out there. I respect you but I do not respect jared padalecki who is JUST tall and has zero sex appeal. but those eps where he’s like, drinking ruby’s blood and then eating her pussy are. you know. I’ll give you that

I am ONLY UP TO SEASON 10 so fair warning this is not comprehensive but the horniness does seem to drop off sharply after the mark of cain is no longer in play lol gotta love a good demon murder tattoo plot

this is easily the most insane thing I’ve ever done, including the destiel manifesto

S1 EP12: the scene where dean gets healed by the faith healer, on his knees with a hand in his hair and looking somewhere between religious ecstasy, brain death and an orgasm. starting this list off great

S1 EP22: azazel possessing john winchester. no I will not explain further if u know u know <3

S3 EP10: dean being taunted by a dream version of himself, this is where we first got the daddy’s blunt little instrument line. still burned in my hippocampus a good 13 years later thank yew

S4 EP1: dean crawling out of his own grave covered in grave dirt. hot. the HANDPRINT. HOT. also tangent but this reveal after the s3 finale was WILD back in 2008 I hollered in my dorm room after canvassing for obama. simpler times man

S4 EP 1: cas’ intro scene. the barn. the shadow wings. the hair??? getting stabbed in the chest by the man you just pulled out of hell. getting aaaallll up in that personal space. his little eyebrow. “you don’t think you deserve to be saved.” OUTRAGEOUSLY FLAMING

S4 EP02: “I dragged you out of hell I can throw you back in.” <<< this angel tops. mark dean down as scared and horny etc

S4 EP16: this ENTIRE EPISODE but specifically the part where dean tortures alastair as some kind of foreplay and then alastair kicks his ass. carved you into a new animal. jesus.

S4 EP16: wait I forgot about the part where cas also gets his ass kicked and looks all....hm. dazed and covered in blood while he’s on his knees and about to die. yeah.

S5 EP4: I mean this entire ep is unfairly horny considering everyone is dying of a zombie plague and hasn’t showered in like, 4 years but if I had to pick one hmmm. the dean/dean interrogation scene with the panty kink yeah I know it’s not original but hm. it happened. also misha collins just being able to convey that CAS IS A FLEXIBLE SLUT with a single roll of his shoulders. who SAYS this man can’t act!!!!!

S5 EP18: the ALLEY SCENE. DEAN DOESN’T FIGHT BACK. CAS HOLDS HIM UP OFF THE GROUND AND THEN THROWS HIM ACROSS THE ALLEY. WHY DID EVERYONE THINK CAS COULDN’T TOP. you all had brainworms.

S5 EP18: when cas locks dean in the panic room to stop him from saying yes to michael and “well cas not for nothing but the last person who looked at me like that I got laid” I hate this show. wait I think the blow me cas line is in this episode too what the fuck were they on here

S6 EP5: the scene where dean gets turned into a vampire. between the old dude who I think calls dean a pretty boy (??) and soulless sam....watching??? no ******* but there were just some absolutely foul energies in that scene and I still do not understand WHAT they were thinking

S6 EP20: cas doing a double smite on two demons by slamming them to the ground and then shoving another demon back in its vessel and then smiting him in the same motion. TOP. ENERGY.

S6 EP22: season 6 is possibly cas’ horniest season because he’s like, going through angel puberty after getting his first boner for dean, but the final cas eps are. whoof. cas eats a bunch of souls and proclaims himself to be a new god in order to handle said boner, and then the season ends with cas telling them to bow down and profess their love to him, their new lord, or he will destroy them. note: the way this is framed makes it look like cas is only staring at dean while he says this, even though sam and bobby are also there. the season ends with dramatic zooms on both cas and dean’s faces respectively. this made me actively regret ditching this show after s5 lol

S8 EP??: literally EVERY SINGLE PURGATORY FLASHBACK. cas dean and benny are all purgatory hot in the “pop 10 cranberry pills and risk the UTI” kind of way but also. dean being the hot girl bottom between two tops who hate each other. I really. whew. I need to go take a shower.

S8 EP17: if I get canceled for including the crypt scene on this list I blame you bud. but dean on his knees begging a brainwashed cas to stop killing him WAS sexy. how many times has dean been on his knees in this list wait there’s another one coming up next jsldjfsldkjf

S9 EP2: abaddon getting dean on his knees (YEAH) and pulling his hair and praising him for always coming when called HELLO???? the only thing that ruins this is dean says “I can’t tell if we’re gonna fight or make out” because this is the CW and they won’t let him say fuck

S9 EP6: ah. this entire episode is Emotionally Horny but the horny horny part is when they’re in the car and dean is telling cas to unbutton his shirt and. watches. I know this was on my destiel manifesto but I need it here too

S9 EP9: cas, covered in blood, slitting another angel’s throat and eating his grace after getting tortured. that shot alone made me understand why this website was so goddamn horny for misha collins for nearly a damn decade

S9 EP11: MARK OF CAIN BABEY. cain watching dean beat up a bunch of demons as an audition for taking on the mark, while crowley also is a fucking voyeur to the whole thing. cain is also a hot silver fox with daddy energies. I said what I said

S9 EP 16: dean getting the first blade. he’s chained to a pillar and being menaced by a foppish dandy who wants to add him to his “collection” (WOW). dean then kills him with the blade and whew. murder is sexy sometimes

S9 EP21: dean being pinned against a wall by abaddon’s power, then using the mark of cain to break her hold, calling the first blade to him psychically and then killing her. god the mark of cain is hot

S9 EP23: dean waking up with the demon eyes NUT

S10 EP2: demon dean beating up that dude with the boring backstory and kicking his ass. really was a go on baby I got your flower moment because I hated that dude and I love demon dean

S10 EP3: demon dean being chained up and taunting sam about how his brother is gone, then hunting sam through the bunker. demon dean in general was VERY fun for me, someone who loves trash

S10 EP9: dean going berserk and killing a bunch of pedophile rapists/child abusers. I’m sorry I know this show is trying to preach morality at me about monsters and unnecessary murder and humanity or whatever but we blew past that like 8 SEASONS AGO. also the mark of cain is sexy

S10 EP14: the rest of this list is really gonna be mark of cain stuff isn’t it look I’m here to have fun. cain and dean’s fight. cain continuously tossing his mane of hair back and taunting dean with the picture of what he’s going to become, who he’s going to kill. dean begging cain to tell him that he can stop, and then ultimately killing him. rip daddy.

S11 EP4: again I have not watched this however. every shot of this episode is PRESTIGE TELEVISION because driving a muscle car is sexy. and especially the shot of dean all beat to hell and begging his car to start and giving her a little kiss from his fingers to her dash. ugh. masculinity.

S12 EP10: the bearded salt-and-pepper daddy look returns, only it’s an angel this time and he’s wearing a vest and shirtsleeves and he swordfights with a hot redheaded lady in a suit and an eyepatch. this show is good sometimes!!! and oh fuck lol I just realized this is the same guy who played krissy’s hot hunter dad in s7 probably the first guy who’s hotter as an angel than a hunter. huh.

S12 EP 11: dean riding larry the mechanical bull to “broomstick cowboy.” I have no idea where this factors into the ep but I have seen. the youtube clip

S13 EP23: from what I can tell s13 is way more emotionally horny than boner horny, although dean burning cas’ body was sexy. but the horniest part was dean saying yes to michael and then michael taking over and saying “thanks for the suit.” we are going to ignore the silliest fight scene in existence as well as the final shot ending on a FREEZE FRAME like a goddamn tiktok

S14: not gonna pick a specific moment because I have not watched yet!!! but michael dean is hot. idk why michael is weirdly hot and I cannot stand any iteration of lucifer on this television programme. it should be the reverse but I’m forever an older sibling stan apparently. someone who is catholic could probably explain this better.

S15 EP13: genevieve padalecki and danneel ackles fight flirting as ruby and anael I CANNOT BELIEVE THEY HELD OUT ON THIS TILL THE LAST SEASON

I know I am missing things but this is already an absolutely incomprehensible screed. I know I’m missing shit from the latter seasons but give me time I’m pacing myself

[redhoodedwolf]

“Oh shit I just spilled you coffee everywhere” sterek prompt

The first time Stiles made coffee for his boss, he was halfway to a panic attack, which was a weird thing to be anxious over. Except for the fact that his boss was Derek Hale. And Derek Hale liked his coffee made by one person in the office only, and that was Erica Reyes, his old assistant.

Stiles had always been told he was shit at making coffee. It was the one thing he’d lied about being good at in order to get this job.

Thankfully, Erica still worked for Hale Corp, just under a different position, so Stiles had struck a deal with her. She would have Derek’s coffee ready for him every morning so he could pass it off as his own. In return, he had to keep her up to date on all Derek gossip, apparently the one fun thing her new job lacked.

Easy decision. Stiles shook his soul away, but he got Derek his coffee every morning, and had even seen him smile a few times.

All was well for a few weeks, up until Jackson Douchemore came back from an extended business trip. Stiles knew Jackson from outside of the job, because he was friends with Lydia. Jackson also knew Stiles and knew exactly how to ruin his day, just because he could.

Feet from Derek’s office, Jackson rounded the corner, an evil look in his eyes, and proceed to trip Stiles, sending him and the coffee to the floor.

“Whoops,” Jackson crowed.

Derek stuck his head out of his office, stopping Stiles form either punching Jackson in the face or just melting through the ground and ceasing to exist.

Jackson’s triumphant look cowed under Derek’s glare. “Whittemore, call maintenance and have them clean this up before it stains too badly. And bring Stiles your extra shirt.” Jackson opened his mouth, probably to protest, but Derek added, “Now,” and the blond was gone.

“You okay?”

Stiles looked up at Derek and tried to ignore his brain adding angel wings and a halo to Derek’s figure. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Sorry about your coffee.”

“It’s fine. Just rinse out the mug and make it again, after you get changed.”

“Right.” Stiles froze. “Wait. Again?”

Derek smirked. “The company is doing well enough that every employee can have more than one cup a day. It won’t break the bank.”

“Ha! Right!” Stiles jumped to his feet and took the plain white button up that Jackson threw at him as he passed. “I’ll just go change and do that!”

He swiped the mug from the floor and raced for the kitchen. Depositing the mug in the sink, he swung around the corner into the Men’s and undid his shirt, wincing at the stain that would never come out. Stiles was keeping Jackson’s shirt forever, he owed him a new one anyway.

One problem solved. Now...

Stiles stared at the mug of steaming coffee. Easy part done, he just had to press the buttons on the machine. Now came the cream and sugar. How many spoonfuls of sugar does Erica usually add? Three? Dammit, he should have taken notes!

Creamer was easier, at least. He added until the coffee looked like the right lighter shade, then stopped, stirring it all together. Okay, maybe the coffee was a touch lighter than usual, but maybe Derek wouldn’t notice and would just be happy he had coffee at all? Right, sure.

Stiles was going to be fired over coffee.

To amuse himself, Stiles played a funeral dirge in his head as he trudged to Derek’s office, eyes peeled for sneaky Jacksons.

Stiles knocked on the office door, and Derek called him in.

“Coffee!” Stiles declared, lowering the mug onto Derek’s coaster at the corner of his desk.

“Thanks,” Derek said, a small smile given to Stiles. His eyes flicked down, then back up. He cleared his throat. “Shirt looks good on you.”

Stiles glanced down. It was maybe a bit tight. Stiles had shoulders where Jackson had none, so it stretched a bit (it was probably fitted, the rich bastard), but it was wearable for sure.

“Certainly nicer than anything I can afford,” Stiles agreed.

Derek reached for the mug and Stiles flinched back.

“Right, I’ll just...” he jerked his thumb behind him to the door.

“Actually if you wait just a second, I just have to moved the files onto this flashdrive, but then could you take it down to Argent for me?”

“Sure, no problem,” Stiles rushed to say, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Derek brought the mug to his lips, tilted it to sip, and Stiles stared.

Derek glanced up, lips detaching from the mug’s rim. “Everything okay?”

“Yep!” Stiles squeaked.

Derek took a long drag of the coffee this time and then sighed. Stiles’ shoulders relaxed. Somehow he’d managed it. Miracle of miracles. 

Derek handed him the flashdrive seconds later, and Stiles was out of there.

*

Jackson had not given up, it seems, on his venture to get Stiles fired through coffee, because he struck again the week after.

“Oh, was that yours? My bad, I thought it was old so I dumped it,” Jackson said, Derek’s mug upside down over the kitchen sink, the last drips hitting the metal basin with a sad plop.

“What the fuck, Jackson?” Stiles hissed, looking back to see if Erica was still around and could remake the mug she’d expertly crafted, but she was gone. He tore the mug from Jackson’s hands. “Seriously, go to therapy. It’ll do you wonders.”

Stiles violently threw a new pod into the Keurig and shoved the mug under the spout before turning back to the snake of a man. “Who knows, maybe Lydia will take you back then.”

Jackson’s face shut down, and he turned and left the kitchen without another word.

Not letting the guilt get to him, because Jackson deserved what he’d said, Stiles reached for the sugar and creamer, once again going to guess Derek’s flavor combination.

It looked to be the correct shade this time, and Derek hadn’t said anything against it last time, so maybe he wasn’t such a coffee snob?

“I bring good juice and good news, both piping hot,” Stiles declared upon entering Derek’s office.

Derek stared at him for a moment, lips parted, before his mouth snapped shut and he gestured Stiles to come forward. “Hot. Yes?”

“The good news is that someone is going to be calling today about her United States debut,” Stiles sang, setting Derek’s mug down on its space.

Derek’s eyes lit up. “Cora?”

Stiles nodded. “Mhmm. It’s already in your schedule and everything. I scheduled it right before lunch, in case you want extra time to talk with her about, you know, logistics.” Stiles waved a hand.

Derek took a gentle sip of his coffee, eyes slipping closed, clearly happy to discuss his sister’s joining of the company. Stiles may have stared at the happy-bliss look for too long. He averted his eyes just in time.

“Thank you, Stiles.”

Stiles shrugged his shoulders, hands shoved into his pockets. “Just my job.”

Stiles left the office then, closing the door behind him and taking a steadying breath. His heart should not be going so wild. Derek was his boss. It was totally unprofessional.

“Stilinski.”

Stiles’ spine went ramrod straight, and he turned towards the sharp voice of Jackson, ready to give as good as he got, when he saw the other man’s face and he paused.

Jackson wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You really think therapy will help me get her back?” He sounded like a broken man. 

Stiles groaned loudly and slumped over in half, head pressing against Jackson’s chest.

Derek popped his head out of his office, asking what the noise was about.

Stiles didn’t have the energy to move off of Jackson’s unfairly sculpted torso, just waved his hand in Derek’s direction. “Just releasing my pride.”

Jackson awkwardly patted him on the back, and Stiles raised his head enough to give him a tight-lipped smile.

Derek said nothing for a moment, but then his office door closed swiftly with an audible click.

“Okay, dude, let’s reconvene at lunch, eh? We’ll talk it out then.”

Jackson nodded tersely and then turned around and went back to his office. Stiles wanted to groan again, but apparently Derek didn’t like it, going by the practical slam of his soft-close door, so he held back and decided to save it for later.

*

The third time was truly all Stiles. He’d grown out of his clumsy ways after high school, but he still had the occasional twitch that caused a commotion.

He supposed he could blame Derek too, but he couldn’t blame another man for his reactive emotions. 

It had been two weeks since Jackson and Stiles had met for lunch and Stiles listened to Jackson for perhaps the first time in his life. He’d recommended a psychologist, gently suggested anger management classes, and promised he’d put in a good word with Lydia and assured Jackson that she was single and wasn’t interested in anyone else. 

Since then, Jackson had gone back to mostly ignoring his presence, which Stiles was fine with. But they greeted each other in the halls when they passed. The one time Derek and Jackson were having a meeting and Stiles had come in to deliver mail, Derek had stared with wide eyes at the smile Jackson gave him when asking how his day was going. 

So that issue was solved. Stiles thought he was in the clear. Shame on him, really.

He held Derek’s mug securely in his hands, reveling in the warmth from the drink. It had been a cold walk from the bus this morning, and the coffee was finally zapping the lingering cold from his phalanges. 

Stiles raised a fist to knock on Derek’s door, but heard someone’s voice first. And not Derek’s.

Now, Stiles was Derek’s assistant, so he had a right to be a bit nosy into who was ruining his perfect schedule for Derek, right? 

Stiles unashamedly pressed his ear against the door.

“You should take him,” Derek said, then added something else Stiles couldn’t catch.

The other person in the room laughed, and Stiles realized it was Cora. She did start work on Monday, so it made sense for her to be here to get everything squared away. Still...

“... can’t be his boss anymore...”

“Why?”

“Cora... better suited...”

“Sure, that’s why...coffee?”

Stiles startled, the voice much louder than it had been, and he didn’t step away in time before the door opened. The mug flew from his hand, thankfully away from other people, and once more the carpet was stained. 

“Oh no! I’m so sorry, Stiles!”

Stiles recovered the thankfully unbroken mug from the floor and stared dejected at its emptiness. “Nope, that was all on me. I was, um, not paying enough attention to hear you?”

“I’ll call maintenance. You go bring my brother his lifeblood,” she joked. 

Derek stood in the doorway, face surprisingly blank, and Stiles wondered if Derek had guessed he’d been eavesdropping. 

“I’ll be right back, Stiles mumbled and escaped. Because the look on Derek’s face was worrisome. Why would Derek need to hide his emotions regarding their conversation from Stiles, unless...

“Shit, I made him shit coffee twice and now I’m sacked!” Stiles shouted to the sink. Thankfully, the kitchen was empty, but the sink gave him nothing to work with. 

Screw it, he was already a gonner.

Stiles mixed the coffee haphazardly, not even sure he’d added sugar. Maybe he’d grabbed the salt. Either way, Derek deserved it for shipping him off to Cora because of two bad mugs of coffee. 

“Here,” Stiles offered, voice terse, holding the mug out to Derek a few minutes later. He refused to set it down on principal.

Derek was keeping his neutral face mask on, which pissed him off even more. Still, he took the mug gingerly and then stared down into it.

“Drink it,” Stiles challenged.

“Did you poison it?” Derek asked, eyebrow raised.

“Do you know of a reason I would poison your coffee, Derek?” Stiles asked batting his eyelashes innocently. 

Derek blanched, but clearly had nothing to say. He brought the mug to his lips and took a careful sip. He smacked his lips afterwards and set the mug on the coaster. “I think I’ll live,” he declared, a few seconds later.

“It’s shit,” Stiles spat, throwing himself into the chair across from Derek’s desk. Might as well get the transfer done sooner rather than later.

“The coffee? Tastes fine to me.”

“How can it?!” Stiles exclaimed. ���I made it!”

“I’m not picky about my coffee, Stiles,” Derek argued, which. 

What?

“But... when I was interviewed, I was told that getting your coffee just right was first and foremost.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Erica interviewed you, didn’t she? I think she went with that excuse to weed out the weaklings, or something.”

So, Stiles had been plying Erica with Derek gossip for months while she just made a random cup of coffee?!

But, wait.

“If it’s not my coffee-making skills, why are you firing me?”

Derek’s eyes went wide. “You were-- Eavesdropping, Stiles, really?” He sighed heavily. “Also, you’re not getting fired. I’m suggesting you transfer over to Cora’s assistant because she’s working in a division that suits your job advancement better. This was never a permanent position for you at Hale Corp, Stiles. You’re far too smart to organize my calendar all day.”

Stiles’ head was reeling. “Wait, so... wait. I’m. You think I’m smart?” he squeaked.

Derek chuckled and stood, walking out from behind the desk. “Yes, I do. And so does the company. But I also think you’re very attractive and if I’m your supervisor I can’t do anything about it. So?”

Derek leaned over Stiles, arms bracketing him in as the clutched at the arms of the chair. 

Stiles swallowed thickly, eyes bouncing all over Derek’s face, looking for any sign of a joke.

“How--” he cleared his throat and felt his face burning in embarrassment over the crack in his voice, “how fast can we get the transfer paperwork done?”

Derek grinned. “Fast enough that you’ll be under Cora by Friday night. Say six thirty?”

“Rather be under you Friday night, but yeah, Sounds great,” Stiles spoke on a exhale as Derek rocked closer, the foreheads touching. 

“Gross.”

Stiles sighed heavily. “Jackson,” he snapped, eyes sliding closed as he felt Derek pull back. “I thought we were done with the bullshit.”

Stiles turned in the chair to look at the blond who simply shrugged. “I already got Lydia’s forgiveness, what more do I need you for?”

Dammit. Lydia was fickle in love. Then again, who was Stiles to judge?

“Forget it. What do you need?”

“It is the middle of a work day, in case you forgot,” Jackson pointed out, and Stiles felt the urge to punch him rising.

“I’ll be with you in a second, Jackson,” Derek said, managing to sound not pissed off.

Jackson backed out of the office, but left the door wide open. 

Stiles glanced back at Derek. “Look, I know he’s the illegitimate son of your wild and estranged uncle, so technically, despite the fact that he was adopted into a different wildly rich family, he is Hale by blood, but does he have to work here?”

“You should meet Peter’s illegitimate daughter.”

Stiles scrunched up his nose. “No thanks.”

Derek smirked. “Get back to work, Stiles. We can iron out Friday’s details later.”

Stiles grinned, bubbling happiness filling his chest. “I’ll pencil it in.”

[bronanlynch]

weekly-ish media roundup (I’ve really gotta pick a consistent day for these but unfortunately the days of the week have kind of lost meaning for me, the only time passing I’m aware of is when it’s my turn to cook dinner. it’s been that kind of whatever length of time, y’know?)

listening: since sea shanties are apparently the hot new trend, please appreciate my two favorite variations on Drunken Sailor: Drunken Whaler (from the Dishonored soundtrack), which I love for how incredibly creepy it is, both in sound and lyrics, and Drunk Space Pirate by The Mechanisms, which just absolutely fucking slaps, wow I love The Mechs (sidenote: this recording is from their last-ever liveshow, and I am personally very sad I got into them just too late to ever see them live). whenever I have Drunken Sailor stuck in my head it’s usually some awful mashup of all three versions like. what do we do with a drunk space pirate? feed him to the hungry rats for dinner!

reading: Drowned God by R.F. Kuang (short story about one of the characters of the Poppy War series, which is extremely good like. political intrigue military fantasy, except I know when I say that most people probably imagine some grimdark white dude bullshit but no! this is not that! this is really fucking good and everything the genre can and should be!) it’s a very good short story and it did make me very sad, and also gave me lots of feelings about, specifically, one of the best m/f ships I’ve ever been convinced to care about. love a school rivals to reluctant allies to battle couple to enemies to reluctant allies again to maybe lovers to enemies again. it’s very tasty.

also, The City Unbreachable by Yoon Ha Lee (from the f/f anthology Silk and Steel) which has some incredibly intriguing sci-fi worldbuilding about sentient spaceship-cities and the societies on them and the people who are bonded with them

watching: Rowan Ellis, a video essayist I vaguely follow, made a video about Black Sails, specifically comparing the endings of Black Sails and Game of Thrones to explain like. why the Game of Thrones ending didn’t work, which is a niche that appeals to my personal interests, because when the whole self-congratulatory “storytellers are the most important people ever actually please give us awards” speech in the GoT finale started I was like. you’re not Black Sails you didn’t earn this shut the fuck up. so it’s satisfying to see someone else with an actual platform make those same points.

I don’t agree with everything she says, obviously, because I am opinionated and contrary but I like the way she analyzes things and I do think she makes lots of good points and uses lots of good examples. however, I do find it kinda disappointing that literally everyone who talks about Black Sails in any kind of serious journalistic way talks down the first season. she doesn’t do it as much as most people but I think that season 1 is good and everyone is just unfairly comparing it to season 2, the best season of television ever created, so of course anything else isn’t gonna look great by comparison. like, I do dislike the sexual assault plotline but aside from that, it’s really good?? literally the first episode has the “civilization (derogatory) needs gossip because it reinforces shame” speech. the “and they called me a monster” Moment and Flint’s Odysseus monologue are both season 1! the Max/Eleanor relationship and breakup that underscore the main themes of the show is season 1! season 1 is really good!

playing: more Knife of Dunwall, to the surprise of absolutely no one. I think last time I did one of these I was still stuck in the first mission because turns out sabotaging a factory is hard if you don’t pay for the favor that turns off the alarms, which I didn’t because I spent all my money on sleepdarts and elixirs. I changed my mind about doing the sabotage because I kept getting spotted, but when I went back to find the capitalist who owned the factory so that I could uh. torture the information out of him because that’s the low chaos option apparently, the labor organizer who I’d rescued had killed him. thanks Abigale. you’re so valid but you made my life so much harder. my expert strategy for getting through that level is that you knock everyone out before you fuck with any of the valves, so that when the alarms go off there’s hardly anyone left awake to come after you. also, move all the bodies away from the valves so they don’t die in the explosion. if you still care about getting low chaos despite picking the incredibly high chaos option. which I do lol. but it paid off, I barely killed anyone, I’m still at low chaos, everything is fine except that Billie made fun of me for setting off the alarms because Knife of Dunwall is a game about being disrespected by your own daughter.

anyway. I’m partway through the second mission now so. we’ll see how that goes

making: one of my roommates and I made pierogi from scratch last night which Imo is a little too labor-intensive to be worth it considering that you can also just buy pre-made ones and all you have to do is fry them. but it’s a cool thing to have done.

the thing I actually want to talk about is the lasagna we made today, or like. more generally the red sauce I make from scratch whenever we do pasta with red sauce, because I do not care for store-bought marinara on account of chunks of tomato are not a good texture for me. all of the sauce recipes including the lasagna recipe say to add crushed and/or diced tomato, and one of my favorite things about adulthood is that if you don’t like something, you don’t have to cook with it! so I can ignore those parts of the recipes! I do not actually have a recipe for the sauce the way I make it because I strongly believe that herbs and spices and garlic are measured with the heart, but trust me when I say it fucking slaps.

there’s spinach in there so that we, as a household, eat our vegetables, and the meat is ground turkey because I can’t eat beef

writing: mostly, cover letters. also a few fics with deadlines that I can’t talk about much yet because they’re for events, and then I posted a fic for an exchange centered around women in various MXTX works, which is about soft domesticity and I thought turned out pretty well

[stephantom]

DS9 reaction thoughts (for the first several episodes of season 6)

So, that was a pretty remarkably solid 8-episode run of DS9, starting from the season 5 finale, up through the 7th episode of season 6. All-out war, unexpected plot twists, good character drama, bookended by two weddings. 

I peaked at the summary for the next episode and saw that mirror!Kira is involved, so it looks like we’re about to hit the usual mid-season slump of filler eps, maybe? But I also saw that some of the seemingly most beloved episodes are coming up later this season too, so that’s cool. (As well as one widely hated one, lol.) 

I’m worried that there isn’t going to be any good on-screen follow-up addressing Odo, Rom, and Quark, and What The Fuck Happened There. It seems like Kira and Odo are already working through it, but, there were... other people involved in all of that. I hope the show doesn’t forget that.

(I hate that Odo coming to his senses was framed as being All About Kira. I just don’t like something about this romance. It’s like it’s cast Odo (or Odo’s cast himself) as like the phantom of the opera, you know? No one can love me, brood brood, meanwhile the narrative framing is clearly trying to suggest that like... Odo can be hot, women throw themselves at him, Kira will come to love him, her love will Redeem him, etc. It’s like it both aggrandizes and reduces his character at once. And meanwhile, it still has never felt like Kira has reciprocated--from her point of view, he feels like a complex, confusing friend who’s suddenly thrown a lot of really weird expectations and baggage at her. And fictional romance can be messy and dramatic and larger than life, so none of this is necessary really bad, but I just don’t really enjoy this one. All that said, the scene with Dax going to bed after her party and then finding Odo and Kira chatting in the closet, apparently having been hashing things out the entire night and not realizing it was morning... was cute, ok.)

Um, other things:

I really liked teenage (in Klingon years?? but 8-year-old?) Alexander. The episode which introduced him was a bit slow, but he himself was charming and adorable, and even more so in the next episode.

Speaking of adorable teenagers just doing their best... Nog! Becoming an ensign! Going through all these battles and secret missions! Being brave and competent and still funny!

ROM! Being a hero. (Look, at part of me unfairly has kind of resented Rom for like... getting retconned as The Nice And Progressive Brother and getting a character arc and stuff, when Quark does not, which I know is crazy of me. But, he has been winning me over for a long time, of course. He’s just a good dude.)

Quark ALSO getting to be a hero and vindicating my conviction that he’s the kind of person who, with much handwringing, will ultimately come through for his friends when everything is really on the line. 

Also Quark getting drunk with Damar was pretty fun, as well as, you know, good and brave. (Idk why his impression of Rom was so funny (“Uh, he doesn’t know”), but it was. Just, perfect comedic delivery.)

Also Quark repeatedly suggesting that they find a way to reach out to Odo for help when Kira is like, “No, you don’t get it. He does. not. care.”  :( :( :(

The Vorta are pretty delightful

Dukat creepily playing with Sisko’s baseball all the time :/ I love that they’ve made him such a sleazy shitbag and just fully embraced it

Ziyal! :(

The Jem Hadar! :( That suicide charge in “Rocks and Shoals”? The Jem Hadar are just so... tragic? Every episode that really involves them as characters just drives that home

That Vedek suicide protest!! what a dark moment for Star Trek, wow

Also, not at all on that level, but thinking of “What, on Star Trek?!” moments, Martok’s wife called Jadzia a slut. Just, straight-up called her a slut. lmao yeeeesh. 

A part of me really likes the idea of Worf and Jadzia, but I’m also like... Jadzia shouldn’t have to get married? Jadzia should keep feeling free to throw parties and dance with fire dancers? It’s hard to forgive Worf for the terrible characterization of that Risa episode still, god.

Um, Miles and Julian reciting “The Charger of the Light Brigade” together and the continual reminders of all their off-screen holosuite adventures together was nice. Also liked them suffering through Worf’s bachelor party together. 

Odo’s fucked traitorous turn was upsetting, but I kind of knew about it in advance, so I wasn’t shocked, but I was distressed. It was good though. I like how the link is described. I mean, it would really fuck up anybody to temporarily like... fully merge identities and consciousness with somebody else, especially somebody who claims to love you and be your heritage and family and self and future, etc. (And I think the founder even means all that too. They’re manipulating him, but they believe what they’re telling him too.) So, on the one hand, I can understand and forgive him, but on the other hand, I hope he isn’t just let off the hook by everyone for that because... that was fucked up, man. Don��t do heroine.

I did not see that wormhole prophet miracle coming, but it was powerful and so was the moment before it. Did not see the minefield grid coming down. etc. That was a lot of well-written suspenseful, exciting writing. I guess this stretch is part of what makes people say that DS9 was ahead of its time and a real deviation for Star Trek for having an ongoing, serialized story. That felt like a modern bingable sci-fi adventure, you know? I hope it picks up like that again. Not that I don’t also love the quintessentially Star Trek shenanigans episodes too, and they definitely have their place in the mix that makes DS9 so good and enjoyable. (And episode 7 was basically that. So was the episode right before this story-arc, with Jake and Nog trying to get that baseball card from the dude who kept talking about the soulless minions of orthodoxy--all very fun and good.

[starryseo]

purify. [3/3] | seo changbin

the gif has absolutely no relevance but holy shit it’s beautiful

pairing ↠ changbin x gn!reader genre ↠ humour, fluff, the boys are Bad Bros wc ↠ 2550 summary ↠ the gang comes to your rescue. naturally, chaos ensues. warnings ↠ swearing, a lot of dirty jokes (this is peak dumbassery for the boys)  a/n ↠ please don’t do any of this at home. but if you do, let me know how it goes!

read:  mess (part one) | mayhem (part two) | PURIFY

series masterlist

Fact: Seo Changbin was not a tall man, by any means.

And yet taming this wild beast of a boy was no easy feat - especially after Woojin, Taekwondo maestro and Kendo wizard, took a knee to his nethers and was out of the game.

Changbin had headlocked Jisung who, in turn, had kicked out reflexively at Hyunjin which had Hyunjin toppling over onto Seungmin. And now, Seungmin was sitting on Hyunjin’s back (as he screamed about how he can’t fucking breathe with this bitch on me), punching his ass and Jisung was turning redder than a hot chili. Jeongin was, thankfully, recording this from a safe distance, so when the day was over and done with, none of you ever forgot the beautiful memories that transpired on this fine evening.

You were nursing Woojin back to health, but Changbin had landed a solid kick to his nuts and he was still whimpering in pain as you held an ice pack to his unfairly-thick thighs - the poor, poor man - and you made sure to add kick bin’s tic tac to your to-do list. Nobody hurts Woojin and gets away with it.

Chan, who had been underneath Changbin this entire time, has stopped screaming - you’re pretty sure he’s unconscious now - and it takes Minho and Felix both pouring water over Changbin for the chaos in front of you to stop.

Jisung’s wheezing filled the room and Changbin was heavily panting out his frustration. “I’m not," he huffed, “a demon. Now- fuck off.”

“You’re an-” a loud, shuddering inhale from Jisung, “an asshole.”

“Holy shit,” - holy shit, Chan was alive! - “your bony ass was stabbing me.”

“Serves you right,” Changbin gloated, finally moving off of Chan to slump against the sofa.

“We’re adding squats to your workout,” Chan continued, rolling over before wincing and rolling back, “Someone massage me, please, I think I’m dying.”

“Stop being a baby,” Seungmin replied, and it was only then that you all noticed he was covering Hyunjin’s mouth with one hand and pummelling Hyunjin with the other.

“Oh, fuckin’ hell, get off him,” Minho laughed, making no move to actually help Hyunjin out.

You pulled Seungmin back by his shoulder and he easily fell off of Hyunjin, giving the other boy a blissful reprieve from a brutal spanking.

“I need a massage, too,” Hyunjin groaned, tenderly rubbing his ass and recoiling, “holy shit, this burns, what the fuck, man?”

Seungmin shrugged, “You hit me first, man. War is fair shit, y’know?”

“That’s not how the saying goes, you prick.” Hyunjin’s pout had you aww’ing, sitting down cross-legged in front of him so he could rest his head on your lap.

He sighed and nuzzled in further, placing your hands atop his head, urging you to massage him. You snorted but acquiesced, running your fingers through the strands, “Want me to kiss it better, too?”

“Yes please, babe,” Hyunjin replied, eyes closed and mindless tracing shapes onto your leg.

Changbin kicked Hyunjin’s ass after that which had the latter gripping your thigh reflexively and growling, “What the fuck?”

Your mind couldn’t even begin to process how hot that sounded - seriously, you’d seen Hyunjin proudly burp the alphabet, yet this one moment had you weak in the knees?

Pathetic.

“Y/n’s my babe, duh,” Changbin shrugged and you rolled your eyes when he shot you a wink.

“Bastard,” Hyunjin grumbled, sighing out and closing his eyes once more.

“I hate to interrupt this cute-as-shit moment between you all, but are we forgetting why we came here?” Felix questioned, hands on his hips, looking like a disappointed Superman because everyone was relaxing instead of un-demonising Changbin.

A second outbreak ensued after Felix’s announcement - his words had somehow enlivened them all, Woojin leaped up, Hyunjin and Seungmin tag-teamed and took down Changbin, Chan’s back pain was still there, sadly - but this was much more successful than their first takedown attempt.

You stayed on the safe side once more, massaging Chan’s shoulders - holy shit, the man was broad - and maybe your hands slipped to feel his biceps but neither of you were complaining; you’re pretty sure Chan was flexing, just to show off, too, and damn, was that a great life experience. You prayed to God that nothing would ever make you forget the feeling of his muscles beneath your hands.

Hyunjin and Seungmin were now sitting on each of Changbin’s arms; Minho was shirtless - what a sight that was - as he’d used his top to tie Changbin’s legs together; Felix was cooing, gently brushing Changbin’s head as he muttered, “It’s all gonna be okay, baby, I’m here for you, we’ll get through this, yeah?”

Woojin was slumped on the sofa, holding the wet ice pack to his face because Changbin had managed to headbutt him near the start of this fiasco. It was just not his day.

After hauling Changbin into his room and ever-so-gently dropping him onto his bed, the boys took a breather.

“Damn,” Chan whistled, looking around Changbin’s room, “you cleaned this up nicely, y/n.”

“It was me, asshole!” Changbin exclaimed, a proud grin on his face, “I tidied up.”

“Sure you did, Bin,” Seungmin rolled his eyes, “We believe you.”

“Y/n,” Changbin whined in response, “Tell ‘em the truth.”

“Of course it was all me,” you smirked, “Changbin just supervised all my hard work.”

“Sweet, wanna help me and Lix out, too, then?” Jisung popped in, sending an overly-sweet smile your way.

“Nope, nevermind, it was all Bin, he’s your man.”

“He is my man,” Felix sighed dreamily, laying beside Changbin in bed.

“Alright, let’s get him ready,” Minho said, dragging in a duffel bag - when did that get here? - as he entered.

From his position, Felix easily rolled on top of Changbin as the others held down whatever flying limbs they could. 

Just as they all managed to pin him down, Minho whipped out handcuffs, the fiery red cuffs immediately drawing everyone’s attention.

“Why…” Chan started, loosening his grip on Changbin’s leg, but he was too shocked to move anyway, “Why on Earth do you have handcuffs?”

“Do you see me questioning your kinks?” Minho drawls, walking over to Changbin who just stares in wonder at Minho.

“Right,” Chan coughed, grabbing onto Changbin’s leg once more, “forget I asked.”

“That’s what I thought, daddy,” Minho teased, shooting a wink over his shoulder to Chan who had a pretty pink blush tainting his cheeks.

The sound of the cuffs clicking seemed to break everyone out of their stupor; you viewed Changbin laying down on bed like that - arms restrained above his head - in a whole new light, and the sight had you snickering.

“You like being tied up, Bin?” you teased, pinching his cheek and, despite having his wrists tethered to his headboard, he tried reaching out for you anyway.

The cuffs pulled him back, clinking against the board as he growled, “Watch your ass when I’m outta these, y/n, you’re so dead.”

You pouted. “Don’t they feel good, though, Binnie?”

You trailed your finger around his wrist, feeling the fluffy material of the cuffs and, you definitely should have expected this - but whatever brain cells you had probably died when you were feeling up Chan - because the next thing you knew was that your own wrist was being grabbed by Changbin’s hand, and damn was his grip strong.

“Let go,” you groaned, trying to pull your hand away, but Changbin was mighty and relentless. “Help me!” You pleaded to the other boys who stood there and watched - Jeongin was still filming (pay respects to his phone storage) as the others just laughed at the turn of events.

“Stay there,” Minho replied, returning to the bag, “Keep him occupied while we do this.”

“Keep him occu- What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Well, he is tied up, you could… you know...” Minho trailed off and you stared at him dully as he kept raising his brows suggestively.

“Nope, no, you do not have my consent, y/n,” Changbin shook his head, grip on your wrist tightening.

“Oh my God, ew, I would never,” you scoffed.

“Why the hell not, what’s wrong with me?” Was Changbin being serious right now?

“Holy shit, where do I start?”

“Maybe y/n’s just jealous?” Jisung interrupted. He continued when you and Changbin raised your brows in question. “Maybe they wanna be tied up instead?”

Changbin turned to you with a smirk, raising his eyebrows teasingly and you rolled your eyes, facepalming with your free hand. 

“Being on top is great,” Felix randomly interjected, leaning his chin on Changbin’s chest.

“Yeah, I can really feel your happiness,” Changbin snickered, and that remark had you all shrieking in disgust.

“Gross, Lix, what the hell, dude?” Jisung exclaimed, punching Felix’s shoulder.

“You popped a- a- Ew, fuck dude!” Hyunjin sputtered, jumping off the bed and away from his perch beside Felix.

“No!” Felix yelled, instantly sitting up and straddling Changbin, “Look, I haven’t!”

“Oh fuck- No one’s gonna look!” Chan said, immediately turning his face to the ceiling.

“I’m looking,” Minho smirked, “And so is y/n-”

“No, I’m not-”

“He’s safe, don’t worry. Woojin you can open your eyes again.” Minho dumped the contents of the bag onto Changbin’s bed, a wide variety of objects and food tumbling out. “Onto more… pressing matters.”

(He smirked when Felix muttered Fuck you.)

“Grab some shit, ladies, let’s get to work.” Minho stated, grabbing a blindfold.

Jisung jumped to pick something up first, but he groaned when he couldn’t open up the cheesy nacho sauce jar. His hands were red from trying to twist the top off, and he whined when it still wouldn’t budge. “It’s so hard!”

You snorted, “That’s what Felix said!”

Felix shot a nasty glare your way. Tough crowd.

“Give it here,” Chan said, holding his hand, “you just need to grip it right before you twist.”

From the lewd smirk he shot your way, you knew exactly what was going through Changbin’s mind. You rolled your eyes because of course his mind jumps to the gutter, how typical.

You haven’t ever taken part in an exorcism - at least you could tick that off your bucket list now - but you were pretty sure whipped cream and feather dusters weren’t usually part of the ritual.

Seungmin had pulled out a bluetooth speaker and was playing some Latin chants out loud as they all began to work on Changbin.

This was more revenge for all of the times Changbin had played you all and you wondered why none of you had thought to do this sooner. Five years of torture and you only got your revenge now? You were slacking.

Changbin’s grip on your wrist didn’t cease - really, it only got tighter when the others began their tormenting - but he loosened up whenever it was too tight.

With your restricted movement, you resorted to just pinching whatever parts of Changbin you could reach. You started with his cheeks, squishing them together until he pouted and you moved on to pulling his ears then flicking his neck.

Eventually, you got tired. You nudged his shoulder and he shuffled along his bed as best as he could. You sat down, mindlessly tracing his red cheeks, booping his nose which he promptly scrunched to look like a bunny. Your hand found its way into his hair and you messed around with the strands, twirling them around your fingers as you leaned your head against the headboard.

You gave up on focussing on what the others were doing.

Chan had spread jam on Changbin’s hands, Seungmin had poured water on Changbin’s socks - Woojin had even signed his forehead. God, this was a disaster.

You stopped watching when Minho began taking off Changbin’s belt. 

After some time - about ten minutes, but the boys had done some seriously-traumatic damage - they all stopped, dropping whatever was in their hands and slumping on the floor.

“By the power vested in me,” Minho started, voice half-muffled as he spoke into the floor, “I condemn your demon ass back home.”

“S’it finally over?” Changbin groaned, nudging you with his shoulder. He had long since let go of your wrist but you had made no move away from him, finding comfort in just resting beside him. You had, however, removed the blindfold a while ago, so he was mentally preparing everyone’s (except yours, of course) cruel demise.

“Alrighty,” Jisung said, jumping up from the ground and clapping loudly to invigorate everyone, “Let’s haul ass, boys!”

“Yep, have fun cleaning this shit up!” Hyunjin said, and the rest of the boys followed him out of the room.

Were they seriously just leaving you with this mess?

Holy shit, there was ketchup on the ceiling, and mayo on the lamp? What the hell had they been doing?

You were too stunned to stop them because there was no way they were leaving you to clear this shit up, but the slam of the front door informed you that yes, that was exactly what they had done.

Assholes.

“Can you please untie me now?”

After releasing the cuffs, Changbin had eased into his bed, despite all the questionable substances on his sheets. The man went through a fate worse than Hell for ten whole minutes, and you felt kind of bad. 

So, you got up despite your aching neck - slouching on the headboard was not your smartest idea - and headed to the bathroom. You turned the tap on, filling the tub up before you pulled out some new sheets from the cupboard and headed back into his warzone of a room.

His eyes were closed, but he wasn’t sleeping. “What’re you doin’?” He slurred, shuffling on his bed and groaning when some orange sauce trickled down his neck.

“Cleaning up,” you laughed, moving to help him sit up, “I started a bath for you, go.”

He trudged out of the room and you groaned, staring at the disaster in front of you.

Just yesterday, his room was sparkling brighter than Edward Cullen, and now? His socks were hanging off the lights.

You stripped away his bed sheets, dumping them on the floor, but the room was still a shitshow and it was way too late - holy shit, it was past 3am, so too early - to try cleaning the room. You quickly put on the new bedsheets and decided that, after this hellish day, he could sleep in your bed. The man deserved something nice after having Felix straddle his thighs.

“Yo, y/n!” Changbin called out from the bathroom, “Mind bringing me some clothes?”

You grabbed some fresh nightwear out of his cupboard and some Pokemon boxers because obviously he had those filling his drawer. After passing those to him through the door’s opening, making sure not to peek because you didn’t want to be scarred for life with a naked Changbin, you waited for him to come out.

He wordlessly followed you back to your bedroom, turning the lights off and taking your offer to share the bed.

“I could’ve slept on the sofa, y’know,” he mumbled, voice drifting into a yawn.

“S’not that comfy,” you murmur, “just sleep.”

“Night, babe.”

“G’night, Bin.”

And if either of you woke up cuddling the other, not a word was mentioned to the other boys.

[grody-cosplay-n-crap]

To wake is to die

A sequel to this  but it can be read separately. It is angst because I hate myself, just a warning 

on ao3

_____________________________________________________________

Richie Tozier basically had the perfect life. Okay, maybe some people might disagree but they were idiots. So a bunch of dude bros had redacted their idolization of him recently, they couldn’t have known how hollow the life of the Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier they though they knew and loved had really been.

Without actually opening his eyes he pats the side of the bed next to him clumsily. It’s empty but the sheets are still warm and he smiles into what he is pretty sure is his own drool spot. The need to find the source of the warmth finally forces his body out of bed, grabbing his glasses and all but stumbling into the living room and open kitchen area. Ah, there he was. In a pair of (probably moisture-wicking and antibacterial) boxers and an over sized shirt that had been given out for free at one of his fun runs (an oxymoron, there was nothing fun about running). He was making one of his super healthy smoothies that almost tasted good until he added yeast or seaweed or some shit and….was he humming a little? Holy shit that was cute. Richie quietly watched with appreciation for a few more moments before stepping forward and grabbing two big handfuls of ass.

“Jesus Christ!” Eddie screeched, dropping some kind of leafy green on the ground.

“I would say sorry to disappoint but I’m pretty sure you’d rather see me than Jesus any day.” Eddie turned around, scowling.

“You’re lucky we have  guest room or your ego and I wouldn’t both be able to live here.”

“Love it when you roast me babe.” Eddie’s mouth did that super cute thing where his lips got even thinner, pressing together with displeasure. He brandished a knife between them.

“ I could have cut off my fucking fingers off then gotten gangrene and died. Then only two people would have watched your Netflix premier instead of three.”

“Ouch, Eds gets another good one.” Richie says backing him closer to the counter in the cage he had made with his arms.

“No. Nope. I am not doing this fucking insult based foreplay first thing in the morning.” Eddie says slipping his way out like the tiny ninja he is. Richie watched appreciatively as he starts digging through the fridge.

“Are you sure the interview will be all wrapped up by 7?”

“You do know it’s not the 90’s anymore and we can watch things whenever we want,” A glare “But yeah for sure.” He tilts his head as Eddie bends all the way down to the vegetable crisper.

“Good. I’ll tell everyone to get here by then.”

“Everyone?” Richie raised an eyebrow. “Does Bill count as “everyone”?”

“No,” he replies sarcastically “Everyone is Bill, Bev and Ben.”

“Bev and-” Rich was actually slightly speechless “They flew out just for my….stupid Netflix special??”

“Well they have money to burn” Eddie says frowning at some kind of scary green juice “And it’s not stupid!” He turns looking at Richie seriously “It’s your first special for Netflix, and the first time you’ve had a set you wrote all by yourself since you were probably 25. Everyone needs to watch it and find out if you completely shit the bed or not.”

“You were at the filming-”

“Unimportant.” Eddie interrupts, finally choosing some bright orange juice to put in the smoothie. God damn it Richie was going to marry the shit out of him one day.

—————————————————————————————————

Richie was practically vibrating with excitement on the way back from the interview, like some damn kid going to a sleepover. Walking in there was a chorus of his name being yelled with various levels of volume and enthusiasm.

“You bastards start pre-gaming without me?” He laughed as Bev threw her arms around him.

“We have to be a little drunk yo deal with you Trashmouth!” More hugs were given around before they settled around his (definitely not too big) television.

“How did the interview go?” Ben asked kindly.

“Great, like they all do-”

“Were there a lot of…” Bill cut in “Uh…”

“Gay questions?” Richie laughed.

“Did you officially come out?” Bev asked, perking up.

“I mean the special is called “Gay Clown”-”

“You said that was just a joke title-!!”

“So I think some people might have figured it out.” “Your social media is also super gay.” Bev said matter-of-factly.

“It is.” Ben says, staring ahead of him blankly. “Hey Eddie?”

“Hm?” the man replied, still staring at the computer where he was trying to Skype Mike in.

“Your running shorts are too small.” Eddie’s head whipped around as he started sputtering indignant curses, everyone else roaring with laughter.

“Don’t listen babe,” Richie says once he can speak again. “Your shorts are perfect.”

“Fuck you.”

——————————————————————————————————-

When they finally reach Mike at whatever paradise he was currently in they que up the special.

“This better be good Rich, I could be on the beach right now.”

“No promises.”

It is in fact very enjoyable for all of them. Bill, Bev and Ben all crying with laughter at one point. He thought even Mike’s eyes looked at little damp. Richie gets to enjoy the warm satisfied feeling of making people laugh again, from his own jokes. Even better when it was people you knew and cared about. But what really made his heart flutter so hard he though he might need medication was Eddie. He would glance at the others when a punchline was coming up, smiling with what looked like pride when everyone would double over laughing. Richie was so fucking in love it hurt.

——————————————————————————————————-

After everyone had tipsily left in their ubers Eddie had come up and held him from behind uncharacteristically tenderly.

“I really am proud of you Rich.” He spoke into his back.

“Whoa,” Richie said, feeling a heat spreading out from his chest. “I don’t know how to handle this sweet Eddie.” He turned, reaching up to gently grasp the shorter man’s waist.

“Shut the fuck up.”

Richie did, but only because his mouth was very busy pressing to Eddie’s. After a moment and a hum the angle changed and Eddie’s ( unfairly ripped) arms came up around his neck and he could help but think he’d let him put him in a choke hold any day.

‘Get it together Tozier.” He chastised himself as he pressed their bodies tighter together.

“So is all your material going to be about being gay now?” Eddie pulled back and smirked.

“I had a public mental breakdown, went back to my hometown and came back gay with a hot ass twunk boyfriend.” Eddie mouthed 'twunk?’ “That’s a fucking great story, everyone should hear it at least twice.”

“Too bad you can’t tell them the best parts of the story.” His boyfriend said sarcastically.

“I went from Richie Tozier bro womanizer to Richie Tozier gay stud homewrecker in less than a week, that’s way fucking better than the fucking clown.”

“Again with the ego.”

“Hey you’re the one who got seduced away from your wife-”

“Beep beep.” Eddie interrupted, grabbing his face and bringing their lips back together. Richie nearly groaned out loud, casually sliding one of his legs between Eddie’s.

“Rich,” he breathed “I’m not sure-”

“Hey, we’re both not 21 anymore, I don’t think I can get a successful boner this buzzed either.” Richie smirked, that swimming feeling behind his eyes becoming more noticeable.

“You’re gross.” Eddie frowned, then more quietly, almost shyly “But you know we both have tomorrow completely open…”

“Well lets go the fuck to sleep right now then.” Richie said, trying to burn the soft blush over Eddie’s cheekbones into into his memory. He power walked towards the bedroom practically ripping his clothes off. Eddie leaned on the door frame watching softly.

“Rich,” he looked over, almost breathless at the sight “I love you.”

Oh fuck, he was so fucking gone. This was too much. “Eds” he said trying to keep his voice from breaking “I love-”

Richie woke up.

It was violent, his whole body jerking. He panicked staring into the blackness, not understanding for a moment why he couldn’t see. His arm shot out feeling the half of the bed next to him. It was cold.

'No.’ he thought 'No, that’s not fucking fair.’

He practically falls out of bed, dry heaving several times on the floor. A grief so strong it felt like he had been stabbed ripped through him. It took several minutes for his lungs to remember to work again, broken sobs ripping out of his body instead of breaths. He sounded inhuman, like a dying animal. He felt as if all warmth in the world had been snuffed out, he couldn’t remember what what warmth had even felt like.

It wasn’t. Fucking. Fair.

For a few agonizing heartbeats he waited to see if the memories would be ripped out of his mind again, when they stayed he grabbed wildly for his phone, stumbling out onto his balcony. The city was awake as always, he could hear a siren in the distance. His hands were shaking so hard he nearly dropped the phone repeatedly trying to scroll through his contacts. His vision was more blurred than usual from the endless tears. He finally spotted a name. Bev. Clumsily he slammed the call button. No one picked up. He called again. And again.

Finally a groggy “Hello?”

“Bev.” he croaked, knowing he must sound like a mad man.

“Hello? Who is-?”

“Richie.”

“Oh, well how can I help you Richie?”

He clenched his jaw so hard he thought his teeth would break. She had the fake voice of someone disgruntled by being woken by a stranger, but who was forcing themselves to stay polite. He felt sick.

“Did you see it? You said you saw all of us, so did you know??”

“Excuse me?”

“Did you know he was going to die in….in that fucking place!! Did you see- why didn’t you try to stop it?!” His voice was rising, becoming a yell. Some part of him knew that if she could Bev would have done anything to change their fates. But it was a small part of him, a dying part.

“I’m sorry-I don’t-” Richie could hear a male voice in the background now, low and concerned.

“Is that Ben?” He demanded, hearing a soft gasp “Tell him- you fucking tell him he should have fucking left me down there! He should have left me with him!!” His voice was still rising, becoming hysterical.

“Richie-” A little recognition now, a little panic.

“They fucking pulled me out, for what? To save my life??” He laughed bitterly. The tears wouldn’t stop, and he could feel his head begin to pound. “Easy for him-for you, both of you. It’s easy to keep going together isn’t it? You got your happy ending.” he spat. They didn’t deserve that. They were his friends, he loved them. It didn’t matter.

“I loved him-” he choked out “I loved him and you should have let me stay-” he broke off wheezing out sobs. There was a pause , then

“Eddie….”

“Y-yeah. Eddie. You fucking remember now?” Ben’s voice was louder now, more frantic.

“Was there and order Bev? Did you know he was next? After Stan?” Stan. His heart throbbed again and he felt like doubling over. “Did you know it would be me after that?” He continued very quietly.

“Richie-” it was Ben and Bev now, she had switched it to speaker phone. “Calm down honey, please-”

“We figured we killed it and saved ourselves, huh? Only lost two out of seven, that’s a pretty good percent. But-” He swallowed heavily, heaving out a shaky breath. “that fucking clown is going to get one more of us before it’s all over. Sorry to mess up the statistics.”

“Richie please stop- just listen, it’s going to be okay. I don’t know what happened but-I’ll call Bill-I think he can-just stay there okay Rich-” Bev’s voice rapidly faded as his phone slipped out of his hand and fell to the sidewalk stories below. He watched as it hit the ground and shattered.

________________________________________________________________

I’m a morbid fuck and I hate happiness but I really can’t see Richie’s storyline turning out fine, he really is the most tragic character in my opinion. Ending is purposefully vague don’t kill me. 

[purplepersnicketywrites]

I found this post and I really love the prompt so it goes like this "you're unfairly good at everyhting but I'm strong enough to carry you bride-style and this for some reason renders you speachless" I'm sorry it's not a nermaid thing.

It doesn’t have to be a mermaid thing! You’re good! I just thought it would be On Theme for the month dfshgdfg

ANYWAY YES THIS IS A TOP-TIER PROMPT it’s,,, Kirishima @ Bakugou tbh

so um. it might have taken a while to write this but have like, a whole 4k fic? i don’t know how to drabble,, apparently,,,

Eijirou was in love.

Okay, well, maybe that was a little over-exaggeration of his feelings. Maybe it was being dramatic - especially since he wasn’t actually with the object of his affections (yet) - but dramatic suited his would-be suitor.

Or, Eijirou thought. Am I the suitor?

It wasn’t like he was actively persuing anything… Whatever, the point was that Eijirou was desperately in love with one Bakugou Katsuki, his long-time best friend and the owner of his entire heart and most of his soul. And who could blame him? Bakugou was perfect.

It might not be an opinion that everyone shared of the blond bombshell. He was prickly and wore an almost permanent scowl. He was the grumpiest, grouchiest bastard that Eijirou had ever met. He swore liberally, was unapologetically self-confident almost to the point of arrogance, and he exploded stuff. He’d been even worse when he was younger.

The thing was, as Bakugou’s best friend, Eijirou saw the other side of him, too. Where Bakugou’s walls were raised high around him, he’d carved out a small door for Eijirou and a few of their closest friends to let them in.

Where most saw Bakugou as a unfriendly and standoffish guy, Eijirou saw the introverted young man who was shy and just didn’t want to admit it. Where most heard the blistering language that rolled off of Bakugou’s tongue, Eijirou heard the Bakugou who was bad with words and at a loss for how to really express himself. Bakugou was way more into physical expression than verbal. He didn’t like to talk about feelings or ‘gross sappy shit like that’.

Most people didn’t bother trying to get through Bakugou’s walls to see the part of him that really, truly cared about people. It had been a stunted, shrivelled sort of thing when Bakugou had started at UA. Now, five years later and two into actual hero work, it was like a tree in full bloom. Bakugou cared, in his own way.

His drive was unparalleled. Once Bakugou Katsuki set his mind on something, god, he was gonna get it. Eijirou didn’t doubt for a second that he’d snag the Number One Hero spot at some point in his career. Bakugou inspired Eijirou, he always had.

Bakugou was also absolutely, mind-bendingly smoking hot. Which, you know, that didn’t hurt Eijirou’s attraction to him one bit.

One of the things that Eijirou found most appealing about his friend was his sheer level of competency. In like, any situation. Eijirou would think that maybe they were stuck on something - in a hopeless situation, on an investigation, anything, really - and then Bakugou’s face would do the thing. He’d get one of his special thinky-faces on, the one that meant he was trying to remember something. Then his eyes - bright and shiny and the most gorgeous deep red - would widen slightly as he pulled on all the strings inside his head and found himself weaving up a thought.

Bakugou would bark out a laugh, one of Eijirou’s favourite Bakugou laughs because this one meant I’ve got it, we’ve won, and proceed to obliterate whatever their obstacle was. Bakugou had done a whole lot of things, somehow. He’d done ballet and acrobatics in addition to martial arts to shape his movements as he fought. He was musical. Origami swans had saved their necks twice, somehow, and Eijirou had nearly died for other reasons that one time Katsuki had had to teach him how to tango for that one undercover mission they’d gone on. Both of them had worn awful wigs. Eijirou remembered the mission fondly.

One thing that Bakugou Katsuki still wasn’t great at doing, however, was knowing when he was beaten. Kaminari often joked that Bakugou had no off-switch. He never stopped.

Not even when his leg was cut up from hip-to-calf and there were seven other heroes on the scene.

“Don’t make me call timeout on you, Zero,” Eijirou growled, holding onto Bakugou’s shoulder to stop him rushing after the villain that Eijirou was pretty sure Battle Fist had already smacked down into the ground. Bakugou tried to keep walking. “You’re bleeding. Like, badly.”

“They can stitch it later,” Bakugou said, eyes darting around.

Eijirou narrowed his own eyes. “Once you’ve passed out from blood loss, you mean?”

Bakugou glared at him and tried to shake Eijirou’s hand off his shoulder. “Don’t mother-hen me, Red.”

“Oh yeah,” Eijirou huffed, doubling down on his grip. “Because not wanting my partner to drop ‘cause he’s being stubborn is unreasonable.”

“Exactly,” Bakugou said, raising one hand. It was already popping a little. Was he going to try and blast Eijirou’s hand off of him? He ought to know that wouldn’t work by now.

Eijirou sighed. “Well, if you’re gonna act like a baby about it… It’s timeout time.”

Bakugou only had time to frown at him before Eijirou was scooping him up into a bridal-style lift. Bakugou squawked and let off a couple of bangs from his hands. They achieved exactly nothing.

“Let me go, you bastard!” Bakugou snapped. He wasn’t wriggling too much, though. His leg must have been really painful. Eijirou tried not to jostle it. “Put me down!”

“Nope!” Eijirou said, and he looked around to see if he could see any medical assistance. If not, well, the hospital wasn’t too far from here… Bakugou folded his arms over his chest and pouted. Good, he’d accepted his fate.

There were no medics set up around here, so Eijirou set off at a light jog towards the route to the hospital. He could feel warmth dripping down one of his arms and grimaced to himself. Bakugou really was losing blood, huh? He was lucky that the villain hadn’t caught one of his major blood vessels.

It didn’t take very long until the hospital was in sight, and Eijirou glanced down at Bakugou, who was staring fixedly at his own knees with a weird expression on his face.

“Hey man, you holding up?” Eijirou asked, wondering if Bakugou was in more pain than he’d thought or like, fainting or something. He shifted Bakugou’s weight in his arms a little.

Bakugou nodded, flushing pink? “Just get me to the docs already.”

“You got it, dude,” Eijirou said, jogging around the hospital building until he saw the sign for A&E. People moving outside the hospital caught sight of them and ogled. Man, they were probably both covered in blood, huh? This’d probably make the news.

It was worth it if Bakugou was okay, though. Eijirou was beginning to get worried - his friend had gone pale again, paler than he should be, and quiet, too. Quiet and Bakugou did not mix. He sped up a little and then all of a sudden he was at the desk in A&E.

“Uh,” Eijirou managed to get out, but the receptionist had seen them coming and a doctor was already rushing over.

“Over here, Red Riot,” the doctor said, showing Eijirou to a free bed. He laid Bakugou down on it as gently as he could. Nurses swarmed under the doctor’s direction, and before Eijirou knew what was going on, he was being bundled into a waiting room chair with a shock blanket and a mug of cocoa.

He texted Mina to go to his and Bakugou’s apartment to pick up some fresh clothes for them both as she had a spare key, and then he was just waiting. He offered himself as a blood donor - as an O-Neg he was a universal donor - but the doctors had deemed it unnecessary. They had plenty of blood for Bakugou to have. That was good. He thought that they had probably stitched him up by now, and maybe even used a medical quirk.

“Red Riot?”

Eijirou looked up. One of the nurses from earlier stood in front of him. “Oh, uh, hi! How’s Ground Zero doing?”

“Good,” said the nurse. “His injuries have been treated and he’s currently being given painkillers for it. He is currently asleep, but would you like to sit in with him?”

Eijirou glanced down at his soiled clothes. “Am I allowed, with all of this gunk on me?”

“His injuries have all been cleaned and dressed, so unless you try to remove any of them, I think you’ll be safe,” the nurse grinned. “Follow me.”

Eijirou did. He was led through a few different corridors and into a ward with individual rooms. The nurse pushed one door open and then there was Bakugou. He looked a lot cleaner and was a far better colour than he had been. Eijirou let out a sigh of relief and went to sit on one of the visitors’ chairs.

“Thanks,” he told the nurse, who smiled again and left the room after telling Eijirou to yell if anything was amiss.

Eijirou stared at Bakugou’s face. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

One of Bakugou’s eyes cracked open. “Yeah.”

“Huh,” Eijirou said. “No arguing with me any more? Those painkillers must be strong.”

“I’m so fuckin’ high right now,” Bakugou agreed. “Sorry.”

“Apologies, too? Man, I should keep some of this stuff and slip it to you the next time you get too grumpy.”

Bakugou grinned at him. “Nah, ya like me when I’m grumpy.”

Damn, well, that was true.

“Yeah, I do,” Eijirou said, and prodded Bakugou’s chest. “So stop ending up in here. This one’s gonna leave a real nasty scar.”

“Mmhmm,” Bakugou said, closing his eyes again. “Sooner I rest up, sooner I’ll be cleared to leave this fuckin’ place. So shut ya trap.”

“Charming,” Eijirou said with a snort.

“I know I am,” Bakugou mumbled. “Shut up.”

Eijirou patted Bakugou on the shoulder. “Yeah. I’ll be here when you wake up again, yeah?”

“Better fuckin’ be,” Bakugou said, and then his face dropped into the genuine relaxation of sleep.

Mina was a goddamn lifesaver. She had brought them their clothes, informed Bakugou that he was a moron for making everyone worry about him, and then swept herself off with no wriggling eyebrows or probing about Eijirou basically gluing himself to Bakugou’s side. She had also taken away their dirtied costumes ‘to be burned’.

The hospital staff had given Bakugou the A-Okay to head home (and rest his leg, which Eijirou was going to have to enforce, somehow). Now all they had to do was physically get out of the hospital.

That was easier said than done.

“I do not need a fuckin’ wheelchair,” Bakugou insisted, despite the fact he wasn’t really supposed to walk in case his stitches ripped. He had woken up on the wrong side of everything, let alone the bed, and now that they’d taken him off the strong painkillers the reality of his injury had settled in.

Eijirou was losing his patience with his friend. “Stop swearing at the staff, Bakugou.”

“I do whatever I damn well please,” Bakugou spat, glowering. “Fucking antibiotics, feel like shit. I’m allowed to cuss, I’m an adult.”

“It’s not professional, man,” Eijirou said. “What if a kid in the hospital hears you? They’re gonna repeat what Ground Zero says.”

“It’s education.”

Eijirou’s mouth threatened to twitch up. No! He wasn’t amused!

“Dude,” said Eijirou. “You suck.”

Bakugou scowled at him. “You wish.”

Eijirou took a moment for himself to scream internally. Being head over heels for this man was incredibly testing at times. He had a suspicion that Bakugou knew, from comments like that, but he could never be sure. Eijirou pinched the bridge of his nose. “Are you going to get into the chair? Or are you hoping that you’ll start spontaneously levitating?”

“I just don’t want the press to get me in one of those things,” Bakugou said, pouting to the side.

“There’s literally nothing wrong with being in a wheelchair, Bakugou,” Eijirou said.

Bakugou scoffed. “Of course not! But the tabloids’ll overreact and make out like I’m dying or I’ve lost my leg or some stupid shit like that. It’ll affect the rankings.”

Eijirou sighed. Bakugou narrowed his eyes and Eijirou held up his hands. “I get it, bro, the world is stupid. They probably already got me carrying you in here covered in blood, though. I could carry you back out again?”

“And do what, carry me the whole way home?” Bakugou snapped.

“Sure, why not?” Eijirou shrugged. “If it gets you out of the hospital.”

Bakugou glared at him. “Why n- We live three fuckin’ miles away, dipshit!”

“And?”

Bakugou blinked. “And that’s a fuckin’ long way to go if you’re lugging someone along with you.”

“Not really, ‘cause I’m like,” Eijirou paused to reorganise his words. “I’ve definitely carried more than you for further before.”

“Excuse me,” said one of the nurses. “So will you be using the wheelchair or not?”

“Not,” Bakugou said.

Oh, wait, so the carrying thing wasn’t hypothetical. Okay.

“Alright, let’s go then,” Eijirou said, walking over to where Bakugou was sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the hospital bed, signed discharge papers in his hand ready to give to reception. Eijirou tried to pretend that his heart wasn’t thundering in his chest. He failed.

No use agonising over it! Eijirou scooped Bakugou up. Bakugou slung one of his arms around Eijirou’s neck - for balance, probably - and lay the other with the discharge papers over his lap.

“You good?” Eijirou asked. Bakugou nodded. “I’m not grabbing your cut, right?”

Bakugou shook his head.

“Comfy?” Eijirou asked. Bakugou nodded. Okay, that was weird, he’d gone quiet. And slightly red. Was that like, a symptom of something, or? “Cat got ya tongue, man?”

Bakugou went pale, and then red again, almost like some kind of squid thing that Eijirou had seen on a wildlife documentary once.

“Ba-”

“Just go already,” Bakugou muttered, scowling at the papers he was holding.

“Alright,” Eijirou said, thanking the nurse and striding from the room.

“Home, sweet home,” Eijirou said, setting Bakugou down for the first time since they’d left the hospital. They weren’t quite in yet, but Eijirou did sort of need to unlock the door. He kept ahold of Bakugou’s arm to make sure he stood in one place, and then the door was open and he was picking Bakugou up again.

So what if he was enjoying all this extra contact? Sue him.

“Sofa or bed, Bakugou?” Eijirou asked, and Bakugou jumped slightly in his arms. He’d have his Thinking Really Hard face on all the way home and had barely said a word.

“Sofa,” Bakugou said. Eijirou set him down and Bakugou leant back into the cushions with his Thoughtful Scowl on again.

Eijirou sat next to him, breathing out a sigh of relief that they were finally home and mostly back in one piece after the fight today. Eijirou had dealt with knife quirks before - on his hero debut, even! - but while his quirk protected him from the worst of any sharp things, it meant that he no longer really got aimed at and it was harder for him to take hits.

Man, if the knife villain had gotten Eijirou? He’d’ve come away from the battle totally unharmed and desperately seeking a new pair of trousers or something. But no. The villain had got his best friend instead, and now everything was going to be a hassle for a while. Patrols without Bakugou didn’t suck, but they did get a little dull, and Eijirou would always be worrying that Bakugou had fallen over or something and injured himself more without anyone around to help him.

“You wanna get take out tonight?” Eijirou asked. He was gonna order it anyway because he didn’t want to cook and he wasn’t gonna let Bakugou do it. Bakugou grunted - probably in agreement - and Eijirou realised that he was still on his no-talking thing. “Dude, what’s up?”

Bakugou levelled a glare at him. “Take a wild guess.”

“Nuh uh, that ain’t gonna fly,” Eijirou said. “You’re moping, or something. Injuries make you angry. You get louder. Not whatever this is.”

“The fuck do you know?” Bakugou grumbled. Eijirou reached out and whacked Bakugou’s shoulder lightly.

“I know you, man,” Eijirou said.

“Ugh,” Bakugou said. “I guess you do.”

He was still looking at Eijirou, expression shifting and shifting so quickly that Eijirou couldn’t keep up. Bakugou’s thoughts must have been racing - and for such a quick-thinking guy that speed must be intense.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Eijirou said, launching into his usual get-Bakugou-to-open-up-about-things spiel. “But I’m here for ya, Bakugou.”

“Yeah, you are,” Bakugou said, face moving into a frown. Huh? “Why?”

“What?”

“Why are you here?” Bakugou asked. “Why do you want to be here?”

Well, this was not exactly the conversation Eijirou had envisioned having… Like, ever. “You’re my best frien-”

“That’s not what I meant, Kirishima,”Bakugou growled, cutting Eijirou off with a glare. What, was Eijirou not giving the right answer to his vague and nebulous question? “It- Ugh. What do you want from me?”

Eijirou blinked. “What? Nothing.”

“No, there isn’t nothing,” Bakugou snapped. Huh? Eijirou didn’t understand what Bakugou was saying. Was this just from all the pain meds, even if the loopy ones weren’t being used any more? Did Bakugou think that Eijirou was only hanging out with him for… For what? Personal gain? What would that even be? Years of friendship (and feelings) down the line and Bakugou thought this? Bakugou clacked his teeth together and frowned harder. “Stop- Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking.”

“Wh-”

“No, fuck, let me just,” Bakugou grimaced, looking off to the side. Oh, this was some weird feelings thing, wasn’t it? No wonder Bakugou wasn’t making any sense. Eijirou still felt tense, but not quite as alarmed. “You carried me home for three fucking miles, Kirishima! What do I- How the hell am I supposed to- Ugh!”

Oh, Eijirou thought he could see the picture of things, now. “You don’t need to give anything back to me for that, Bakugou! It’d be selfish to ask for you to repay me for something I volunteered to do!”

“Well, maybe you should be,” Bakugou said. Eijirou tilted his head. Bakugou glanced at him and away again. “Be selfish, I mean! You’re always fucking giving. Giving and giving and never taking a single thing back for yourself and it drives me up the fucking wall!”

Eijirou shook his head. “There’s nothing I need from anyone that I don’t already have.”

“What about what you want,” Bakugou said. He fixed Eijirou with his stare again and something in his expression made Eijirou’s stomach do somersaults. “Is there anything you want from me that I could give you?”

Eijirou met Bakugou’s burning gaze.

Everything, his brain supplied.

Bakugou’s eyes widened slightly, and Eijirou realised that he’d said the word aloud. Before he could even think about being horrified, Bakugou’s scowl slipped from his face. It was replaced by a triumphant grin.

“Oh thank fuck you finally said it,” Bakugou said, leaning over into Eijirou’s space. Eijirou could feel his whole face burning. “‘Cause if I never got the chance to tell you how god damned hot it is that you can carry me in your arms for three fucking miles without even breaking a sweat, I think I would’ve died.”

Eijirou couldn’t provide a response to that. His lips were occupied, all of a sudden. With Bakugou. Because Bakugou was kissing him, and kind of insistently. Eijirou allowed himself a few more moments to be utterly confused, and then he wrapped his arms around Bakugou and kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm as Bakugou was putting in.

“That’s a little dramatic,” Eijirou said, when they parted to breathe.

Bakugou snorted. “You know who you’re dealing with.”

“Mmhm,” Eijirou said, kissing Bakugou again and finding himself delighted by the way he reacted. When had Bakugou crawled into his lap? “Uh… We should probably talk about this.”

“I’m fuckin’ crazy about you. We’re dating now. That enough talkin’ for ya?”

Probably not, but- Bakugou kissed him again. And again. And again. Eijirou laughed into the kisses, and began to run his hands down Bakugou’s sides. “Wait, um. So does this make you my boyfriend, Katsuki?“

“Fuck, yes,” Bakugou said. Or should it just be Katsuki now? Yeah, Eijirou liked the sound of that. “You- Ow! Watch it!”

Eijirou winced, pulling his hand away from Katsuki’s hip. “Oops! I forgot! Are you okay?”

“Dumbass,” Katsuki said, but fondly.

“For the record, I’m crazy about you, too,” Eijirou said, taking advantage of the lull to speak. “I’ve been kind of head over heels for you since school.“

“I know,” Katsuki said. Oh.

“Wait,” Eijirou raised an eyebrow. “You knew? Like, since when?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. “Since forever. You’re not subtle.”

Eijirou blinked. “What? Then- Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I dunno,” Katsuki said, pulling himself back to lay against the sofa cushions again. “I was confused about it for a long-ass while.”

“So, you’re not confused any more?” Eijirou asked. It didn’t really need to be asked, given the way that Katsuki had kissed him just now, but Eijirou wanted everything out in the open.

“No,” Katsuki lifted his good leg and prodded Eijirou’s chest with his foot. “I’ve been flirting with you for like, a fuckin’ year now. Thought it’d finally spur you to action but noooo, you have to be all self-depreciating and second-guessing shit all the time.”

“A year?” Eijirou said, feeling his mouth fall open. His brain scanned through all of their recent interactions - there was a lot to sift through. Oh, that explained a few things. Eijirou put a hand over his face. “God, I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Katsuki said. He beckoned Eijirou over with a finger. “But you’re my idiot now, so come here.”

Eijirou crawled over him, mindful of Katsuki’s injured leg. Katsuki hooked his arms around Eijirou’s neck and drew him into a languid kiss.

“I love you,” Eijirou said, feeling a shiver down his spine as the words left his mouth. Wait, fuck, it was too soon for that and Katsuki was probably going to-

“Holy shit,” Katsuki said, turning bright red. “Fuck- Fucking warn a guy if you’re gonna say something that sappy!”

“I’m sorry, I, uh-”

Katsuki slammed a hand over Eijirou’s mouth. “Don’t you fucking dare take it back, Eijirou.”

Oh, Eijirou thought. That was the first time he used my given name.

“I,” Katsuki swallowed, his flushed face darkening further. “I love you too.”

The shiver that followed Katsuki’s statement dwarfed any he’d experienced previously. It felt like his soul was on fire. Eijirou didn’t know how to respond, so he kissed Katsuki again.

“I love you,” he said, pressing his lips to Katsuki’s jaw. “I love you,” he said, kissing Katsuki’s cheek. He continued, saying those three words over and over and peppering kisses all over Katsuki’s face. “I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Katsuki grinned, happier than Eijirou had ever seen. He could feel Katsuki’s fingers running through his hair at the back of his head. “Fuck, I love you. So fucking much.”

Eijirou pressed their foreheads together.

“Katsuki,” Eijirou said, but not for any particular reason. He just wanted to say Katsuki’s name.

“Eijirou,” Katsuki echoed. “We still have to order food.”

“Oh, right!” Eijirou sat up.”Whaddya want?”

“You.”

Eijirou flushed. “Babe. Er, can I call you that?“

“Fuck, call me whatever you want,” Katsuki said, matching the shade of Eijirou’s face. “Curry?”

“Curry it is!” Eijirou said, climbing off of Katsuki and the sofa and making his way over to the phone to call their usual place. He rattled off their order, maybe a little quicker than usual. Once it was confirmed, he put the phone down and turned to stare at Katsuki.

Katsuki looked back at him. Eijirou didn’t think he’d looked away, and that was just. It was something. Eijirou’s stomach flipped and flopped. Katsuki patted the space next to him on the sofa and Eijirou made his way back over. No sooner had he sat down, than Katsuki’s arm circled his waist and pulled him close. Katsuki buried his face into Eijirou’s shoulder, and Eijirou echoed his hum.

“Wish you’d wised up sooner,” Bakugou said, voice slightly muffled. “Coulda been doing this for fuckin’ ages.”

“Well, we can do it now, and as much as we want,” Eijirou said, twisting to press a kiss into Katsuki’s hair.

“Mm,” Katsuki mumbled, pushing his face down harder. “Wanna post something mushy on social media?”

“Shouldn’t we run it by the PR team, first?” Eijirou asked.

Katsuki looked up at him. “Fuck that. Tell the world you’re in love with me already.“

Eijirou grinned, because he did.

[isobel-thorm]

So @zacklover24 requested John/Nic/Sharky smut. Took me a week but here it is  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Just Found Heaven 

Sharky Boshaw wasn’t exactly sure how he had ended up literally in bed with the his best friend and her former-herald beau, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 

A few months ago it had been Nic’s thirty first birthday, there had been booze and a Weird Conversation about her and John’s sexual experiences in college and Sharky’s own experiences from that age range, and they had gone down a path about sharing partners and the next thing he had known his best friend was sandwiched between him and her boyfriend/husband/whatever,- they were ‘loosely common law married’ now, whatever the fuck that meant, married was married-  there was a hand down his pants and teeth on his neck, and a few minutes later he had one of the best fucking orgasms of his fucking life. The second time he had fallen into bed with them, he had walked in on them fucking. Nic was wound up and feeling adventurous enough to have him stay and then join in. He got to prove that he wasn’t lying about his skills about going down on a woman, and she got to prove that his comparison between womens’ downstairs post-birth and quicksand wasn’t true across the board. The third time, he had been feeling especially down and lonely because bunker life was getting to him, and John and Nic had found him in that state, done that couple-y silent communication bullshit they were so fucking good at, and then pounced. Nic had been very adamant that they were always there for him after the fact. John was more a silent observer, but he had given Sharky’s arm a surprisingly gentle squeeze when he was stroking Nic’s back, and he had also voiced the assurance that “you know full well that you wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like or trust you with my wife, and besides, what the lady wants, she gets.” Sharky couldn’t really argue there. So that night, when Nic showed up in their dorm and gave Sharky That look, he was pretty relieved Grandpa Earl had come to intercept baby Cal an hour before. There were only so many more times he could dangle his car keys in front of the kiddo before the kid got bored. He had opened his mouth to make a joke about that to her, but she was on him a second later, a little more rough than usual, shoving him against the wall and tangling her fingers in his hoodie that she had started to insist was theirs a little while ago. She kissed him soundly, and Sharky happily returned it. There was a creak and a click behind them and Sharky looked up to see John just inside the entryway, locking the door behind him. “Shit, y’all are serious today.” “Not serious, just want you all to ourselves.” Sharky went to say something again when Nic pulled up on his hoodie to make a point that he fully understood. “Yeah, shuttling up now.” She laughed at that then gave him a reassuring kiss before she pulled her shirt over her head, and whatever Sharky was going to say was drown out by his brain only supplying “boobs” as a thought process for a few seconds. And then she had gotten to undoing his belt and sunk down for a second- holy shit- and then John just standing there watching but eyeing them like a good meal was enough to derail that particular thought process. “Hey man, you okay over there? ‘Cause I feel like-“ he let out a startled little keen when Nic took all of him in her mouth in one go; “hooo, okay, point made again. Jesus.” John approached them slowly with an extremely calculated walk, and Sharky found that far hotter than he probably should have. Sure, the guy had a rockin’ bod and face and everything, but Sharky had never been into how people walked. Stupid fuckin’ Seeds and their fuckin’ mind game powers. Even if John wasn’t exactly a Seed anymore and he was on their side but he still had those powers in him and - Nic did something absolutely amazing with her tongue and his thoughts got derailed again and he tried hard not to buck into her mouth too much. “Distracted, Charlemagne?” John practically purred directly into his ear- when the fuck had he made it across the room? Stupid brain distracting him.  And then Nic another thing with her tongue that had his brain spinning. “Nope, no problem, not here, no, just-“ Nic sucked and he straight up whined- “bed, holy shit, bed,” he insisted.  John did that little predatory smile of his that was probably terrifying in any other circumstance but unfairly sexy at the same time. When they locked eyes Sharky finally got why Nic had gone on for minutes describing what was undoubtedly that same look he had given her during her failed Confession years ago when they were enemies.  He could definitely understand why she couldn’t look away. He was going have to apologize to her for judging her on that one, because holy shit, he was just as fucking hypnotized. Christ, has known for years that John was the glaring exception when it came to him not being that into dudes, but he would do anything for John if he gave them that look. How had Nic not just immediately agreed to anything the man said when she was strapped to that chair back then- no, not the time, Boshaw. John’s mouth on his neck was enough to deter his thoughts again again. Yeah, he definitely understood how John was a master manipulator. “Bed,” he forced out again. Nic pulled off of him, and he groaned at that loss until Nic and John had started to yank the rest of his clothes off and he scrambled to do the same to them. He wasn’t sure how the Hell they made it across the room and to the beds, but the second the backs of his knees hit the edge of one and he fell back, he caught himself and found that one or both of them had already pushed their and his beds together. Oh, they planned this one. That was new. Nic bent to kiss him and straddled his hips, and John nudged one of Sharky’s legs over so he could get settled behind them. They weren’t wasting time, either. She ground down against him, and he was torn between watching her work and putting his head back and enjoying. He went with the latter for a while until he felt her rise off his lap and he lifted his head to investigate and found her and John kissing, her back pressed firmly to his chest and head craned to accommodate him as he reached around to her front. John’s hand was working below Sharky’s eyeline but between the muscles in his arm flexing the right way and the noises coming out of Nic’s mouth, what he was doing to her was redundant. Again, hottest thing ever. How the Hell did he get so lucky to have such infuriatingly gorgeous friends who insisted on letting him be part of this with them? He was perfectly content watching them for a while until Nic arched away from John and looked back at him, and good God, it was a miracle he didn’t come just from seeing that look. She had learned from John, apparently. Fuck. And then Nic had sunk down on him, wet and hot and perfect, and all thoughts had stopped for a while. She rode him, only stopping to exchange kisses with him or John along the way. Before long Sharky had noticed John just watching for a while, just keeping her upright on him, and reached over to wrap his hand around the other man’s dick and started to work it up and down on him. Having little experience with men, especially compared to John always had him paranoid about his skill in that department, but John never complained. This time was no different. John had merely groaned and let his forehead drop to Nic’s shoulder, thrusting into Sharky’s hand when the other man managed to find a mutual rhythm between Nic’s movements and his own. It was Nic’s turn to whine at that particular sight. She kissed both of them again and thrust down at a particularly unfair angle that had Sharky arching up to meet her with a particularly resolute “fuck.” He was dimly aware that Nic had stopped, kissed John and murmured something to him, and he had responded and then disappeared for a few seconds. Of course, the fact that she had started to ride him faster was a decent distraction. And then there were a couple of sounds he didn’t recognize and Nic gasped and arched into him again and the pause was enough to have Sharky’s brain come back to him enough to realize that John was inside her too and she was taking them from both ends and that was another thing that was sexy as all Hell. And there was the fact that John was on at damned ‘all holes’ list of Addie’s and here Nic was, living that dream of hers. He would’ve laughed if he had the brain power.  Addie was gonna be so damn jealous of Nic if he was ever stupid enough to let it slip that this happened. But no, he didn’t want to risk any of this by blowing this particular secret. “Hey, Boshaw, you still with us?” Nic asked and circled her hips to try to bring him back to the moment for good measure. “Yeah, yeah, still here,” he replied. It took him a second to realize they were probably still worried about him feeling like an intruder, and that did things to his heart and dick. He had definitely lucked out with them. He forced the thought from his head to try and avoid looking too lost, then gripped her hips when she found a decent enough rhythm again. “God damn.” He leaned back after a while, content to watch the other two go at it when John finally, finally seemed to get a little tired of being the least involved party and gave a particularly sharp thrust that had Nic gasping again and leaning back to meet him. Sharky didn’t know watching had such an effect on him, but it did, and between Nic fucking him within an inch of his life and watching them do the same to each other, he was close. “Shit, gonna come.” “So come,” was her simple response. Sharky nearly choked on his tongue, still not used to that outlook, even after they all had a ‘damn the risks, the outcome might be needed anyway’ conversation with them the first time it had come up as an option. Still, he wasn’t going to deny her when she was giving him that look, paired with John pointing out, “my wife asked something of you, Charlemagne. Don’t disappoint her.” Again, that had no right sounding that hot. And people still thought he had his hooks in Nic and their relationship like it was all part of some long con on his part- they should’ve heard John say that, with him all ready to make sure Nic got all she wanted. It was only a couple of more minutes before he tipped over the edge and spilled inside her, and she rode out the wave with him, her own moans getting higher and higher pitched, signaling she was getting closer. It was then that John had helped her dismount Sharky, and slid inside her. And then she had grabbed Sharky’s hand for the buildup until she came with John following seconds after. They all exchanged lazy, sated kisses for a few seconds before John helped Nic to lay down. and then sidled up to her back and Sharky turned to face her, resting her hand on her thigh once John had gotten settled with an arm looped around her waist. “Happy Birthday, Shark,” Nic murmured after a little bit. Now that had gotten him to wake up a little bit. He looked at the makeshift calendar that one of the survivors had made for each dorm. October 2nd. He had barely ever paid attention to it, considering he had adopted Hurk Jr’s new policy that “time was a construct, who needs watches or calendars in the apocalypse, we just feel older now” policy. Well, if following the calendar for birthdates and such ended with stuff like this, fuck that noise. He was going to get a calendar the second he had the energy to move again “So that’s what this was about.” “Hey, there’s not always a reason,” Nic objected. Sharky grinned. “I know. Just playing. Forgot that dates are a thing, ya know? Who needs them down here?” “... You are the strangest person I know, Charlemagne,” was John’s response. “Fair. Also, best birthday gift ever. Who’s next so we can do this again?” “Me,” John replied. “December 19th.” Sharky looked wistfully at the calendar, ready to circle that date five times once they stopped cuddling. Of course, he was in absolutely no rush to leave. “I love you guys, so much.” “We love you, too,” Nic replied, and John hummed in agreement. “Awesome...” Sharky nodded. “... Ten minute break and then round two?” “Deal.”

[why-am-i-pluto]

this one should be obvious but mission impossible movies. if someone beat me to it then doctor who series 11 so far specifically!

send me a fandom and i will name a character…@ineverhadadoubt

who i will protect at all costs: Well, everyone, but mainly Benji. Protect that poor boy.

who deserves better: Ilsa fucking Faust. She deserved better than shoehorning her into a forced romance that was unjustified and unnatural. But hopeful now that Queen Rebecca has spoken out against the romance.

who was killed off too early: Lots of people, if I’m honest. But Trevor Hanaway is up there. I wish him and Jane could have been happy.

who i used to hate but now i love:  Uhhhhh I dunno tbh. I don’t think that there’s any character who I’ve ever particularly hated.

who i used to love but now i hate: I don’t think I hate anyone now either. I did go off Brandt for a while because of the way the stanners would treat the other characters

who needs to be killed off asap: Lane. If not for Benji’s sake, for Sean Harris’ sake. He didn’t want to survive Rogue Nation but he did. Just let the poor bastard die. 

who is unfairly hated: I don’t know if anyone is actually hated? I fortunately remain in a blessed part of the fandom where there is no hate - and any that I’ve seen has been blocked.

who is unfairly loved: I don’t think the loving of the character is so much unfairly given, but the reasons why August is loved piss me off. He’s a fantastic villain, but people seem to love him because Henry is hot. And that leads to all kinds of bullshit that is common in larger fandoms. Love the character, yes. Don’t talk about how you want him to fuck you because that is seriously messed up, guys.

who needs to sort out their priorities: Ethan for one. He needs to focus more on, y’know, actually staying alive. Also Lane. Find a new hobby that doesn’t involve hurting my boy please. Learn to fucking knit or something dude.

who needs a hug: BENJI FUCKING DUNN

who needs to get out of their current relationship: If we’re talking about it as how McQ tried to make it, Ilsa and Ethan. They both deserve better.

who the writers love: Ethan. I mean, it’s Tom’s baby. He’s bound to get the spotlight. But it is nice that everyone else does get their time to shine.

who needs a better storyline: Ilsa in Fallout. But also bring back Nyah and give her the good closure. Show me a Nyah who was inspired and joined the IMF officially, who was trained by Ethan, who mutually decided that their relationship wasn’t working, who still remains a good friend with Ethan as she leads her own team in IMF.

who has an amazing redemption arc: Not a villain being redeemed, but I’m gonna say Hunley. He was a right bastard in Rogue Nation, interrogating Benji weekly, sending the CIA to kill Ethan and Benji, hunting them down, but then he realised he was wrong, accepted that, and changed his outlook on the team. The things he spoke to Ethan about at the start of the film, praising him - god I loved that.

who is hot af: Like… everyone? But have you seen the White Widow?

who belongs in jail: Lane and August. One is sort of there, and the other is dead, so there’s that.

who needs to be revived from the dead: Hunley, Lindsay, Jack, Hanaway, just about everyone

[betterbooksbureau]

Jurassic Park by Michael Crichton

This was a hell of a ride tbh.

Readability: *shrugs aggressively* i found a lot of the language to be a lil dry but it wasn’t, by any means, a chore. There were a handful of big blocks of text that took a little effort to get through, but even then those were mostly shorter sentences, so even my adhd ass could keep track of them.

Re-Readability: it’s probably fine but i dont know why you’d bother when there’s a movie you could watch.

Reccomendability: see re-readability

What I Expected: I mean i’ve SEEN the movie but it was so long ago that all the things i DID remember were either things i know thru cultural osmosis or that were prompted by the reading of the book.

What I Got: i mean honestly it’s fine. Like with The Martian, the Jurassic Park movie seems to me to be a pretty reasonable adaptation, so I got about what I was expecting. Was actually sort of surprised bc, while i dont generally speaking expect dinosaur things to be super scientifically accurate, he DID hit a lot more nails on the head than I had expected. (theres still some stuff that was changed for what is, as near as i can tell, narrative purposes.)

Overview and Thoughts, under a cut bc it got very fuckin long:

ok so. Lets get some general stuff out of the way right here at the top; we have an entire main cast of white dudes (with the exceptions of Sattler and Wu, who are a woman and, i think, asian respectively,) most of whom are described as “skinny” or “slender,” like, ok dude we get it, and then one of whom is described as “fat” and frequently referred to as being, like, messy/a slob/constantly making a mess while eating so, you fuckin know. good show with the fatphobia man.

and then, like, there’s a handful of women with speaking parts but they all exist in this sort of “women can definitely be strong talented powerful people but also there can only be one at a time and also i still want you to know they’re hot” kind of way. Dr. Sattler DOES have one very good zinger wherein the lawyer is like “oh i didnt know you were a woman” and she says “these things happen” and i’m like “yass get him” but that’s about as feminist as this novel gets.

There’s also, like, a reasonable number of black and latinx background characters (which is good bc like, it DOES take place in Costa Rica or w/e) but most of the explicitly black ones are literally maintenance workers, often without names, and, like. idk. at least the crowds were the color they should be, but also? fuck that, gimme some more poc in the main cast.

also for real? a whole story about the doctor in the very beginning of the book probably would have been way more interesting. Gimme Ellen and Manuel or w/e their names are tracking down what the fuck has been happening to these construction workers and burning Hammond to the ground with their bare hands.

Lets get to the Good Shit tho:

i had literally completely forgotten about Alan Grant. like COMPLETELY. i spent maybe the first third of the book being like “i’m pretty sure they collapsed grant and malcolm into a single character bc i dont remember grant At All.” and then i finally looked it up and no, my memory had just been completely overwritten by screencaps of Jeff Goldblum.

I love Grant so fucking much though, lets be extremely hecking clear here. My man Grant: loves his work, would hate Ross Geller, love children, loves dinosaurs, DOUBLE LOVES children who love dinosaurs, just wants to learn more things about dinosaurs and dinosaur children, i could go on. Let Dr. Alan Grant Harvest Dinosaur Bones In Peace 2k17.

also? i hate Ian Malcolm a fucking lot. He was introduced and he has spoken maybe 4 lines and i was pretty much immediately over here like “this is the most pretentious fuckboy i’ve ever read in my life.” if my dude was a shakespeare character he would die and come back to life to give a final monologue about the folly of mankind, ok, and its made even more insufferable by the fact that he’s one of maybe like 3 people in this book with ANY sense. but, he does make a pun about his broken leg so, like, i can’t hate him all the way.

the kids are fine, i like them fine, dont have any huge issues with how they’re written tbh.

Hammond has this interesting arc where you slowly find out more about how he thinks and he makes this transition between “this man reminds me of my grandfather” and “oh. this dude is deluded as hell.”

i think we’re meant to read Nedry and Gennaro as bad guys but, like…. honestly if i was Nedry i’d probably feel the exact fucking way he does and i could super easily see someone doing the exact things he does!!! like the only thing i would do different is maybe not shut everything down when theres guests out and also maybe take a map with me when I leave to make the delivery but, like, imho its completely justified. and Gennaro- like. idk i think its difficult to make a solid decision when you’re in his position and i felt like he really pulled his weight re:helping hammond get shit done and i felt like grant and co treated him really unfairly toward the end there bc its a complicated af situation and he’s……………….. one of the first people who A: knew what was going on and B: to whom is occurred that maybe it was a bad goddamn idea and they should pull the plug. like? not entirely without blame but lets be real here he got his shit together about what a mess it was the fastest of anybody other than Malcolm.

I mentioned above that i was sort of surprised about the accuracy of the science? all in context and speaking comparatively, of course, but like there are still people /today/ who dont believe that birds are related to dinosaurs, so it was good as fuck to see my boy being on top of that shit that far back. it seemed to me a lot like the inaccuracies that were there were a mix of “stuff we just didnt know yet” and “for dramatic effect” but like, struck me as reasonably solid tbh.

there WAS one part that i found to be exceptionally hilarious where hammond was like “the market would never tolerate anyone charging a thousand dollars a treatment for medication!” and i just…… shhhhh nobody tell him the state of healthcare in the united states…….

anyway!! it was fine. i wouldnt buy this book, probably, but it’s worth a read if you’re bored and it happens to be lying around somewhere nearby.

[tessetc]

Ok, so this was the fourth in a series, and all four came with this when I downloaded it, so I read all four and.

Wow.

Just, wow.

There are no words for the rollercoaster of shit I just went on. 

These books are about a fictional NYC baseball team called the Beasts, and four of the players on it.

Let’s start with number 1. 

If there were ever a pedestal on which I could place the worst romance novel I ever read, the first one in this book would sit right there. It was so terrible. I should have done a play-by-play, because it was honestly that bad. I can’t pinpoint what was wrong with the writing itself, but I felt like it was written by a teenage girl. The male lead, Calvin, was fucking stupid. Like, seriously stupid. Most of his parts were just wondering why “women are so confusing” as he let the shortstop, Ace, lead him around parties and drinking, and fuck me it was bad. But the girl, Whitney (Calvin’s long time girlfriend), was even worse. She was like every stereotype of a bad woman. She spent all his money, constantly bitched at him, texted him all the time wondering where he was, and when she did go out she was a bitchy cunt. I mean, he deserved it. But I also don’t blame him for reacting to her that way. At one point he even looks at her IN ORDER TO MAKE HIS BONER GO AWAY.

Good lord. 

Because they were HS sweethearts, there was no meeting, no tension, just rote old married banging and moaning about the other person. Finally they broke up and I was treated to graphic scenes of him banging other people, and hearsay about Whitney banging other people, (including a guy from the NY Mets named Todd) 

God it was gross and awful, and the two leads were severely unlikable, and the writing was bad and I really hoped they would break up permanently and maybe even get hit by a bus.

But somehow it worked out. Fuck you, author. You suck so much.

0/10

Number Two was about Ace, the dude who dragged Calvin around to parties in the first book by taunting him and calling him pussywhipped.

Ace is a cokehead.

Now, I’m all for bad boys in romance but like, Ace sucks so bad. He’s a COKEHEAD. Like, this is kind of a deal breaker. 

The girl is Whitney’s BFF from the first book. Although she seemed to have a personality in the first one, it vanished in this one. 

Despite myself, I was kind of rooting for Ace’s recovery by the end of this book. I was NOT rooting for the girl to end up with him, however. Especially since she got knocked up. Cokehead dad is SO NOT COOL.

I am giving this one 2/10. Because Ace kind of grew on me, (although as a person and not as a romance lead) and because the actual writing seemed to have improved a bit by this one. Either that or my brain cells were dead from the first one.

Part 3 was about some spoiled ex baseball player’s daughter who gets a job as media manager for the team, and she is supposed to babysit them so they all stop being such shitheels.

She ends up with Todd. Yes, that Todd. He got traded from the Mets for being a daredevil or some shit.

So let’s just stop for a minute and ask why the author would name a romance novel hero “Todd”. Like fucking Todd. What a god awful name. It’s not sexy. All I want to say is SHUT UP TODD.

Fucking Hell.

I bet you’re wondering why I kept reading this long. I mean, I am asking myself this very question. Am I a glutton for punishment? Is it some kind of deep-seated self-loathing that causes me to do this to myself? Or is it self-sacrifice, as I try to save you, my loyal followers, from following me down the same dark path as me.

Actually it was because the description for the fourth book said fake fiancee, and I was making myself read the other three first.

Anyway, back to number three. And fucking Todd. 

Neither Todd (heh) or the girly, whatever her name was, seemed to have a personality at all. But despite that, they managed one hot scene in a sex shop/sex club they kind of randomly found themselves in. This was not too bad. The rest of the story was boring, including a bitchy boss and the stupid sub-plot involving some loan sharks after her dad. Fuck. Fuck. 

The other annoying thing was the couples from the first two books coming across as these all-knowing, wise, matronly ladies. Like Whitney was such a lame bitch that I got angry when she appeared, and somehow all her shitty behaviour, (as well as Calvin’s) was just water under the bridge. 

People don’t come back from that, yo.

Now I may be judging book three a bit unfairly based on the previous two, but who the hell cares.

3/10, and the 3 are for the sex scene in the sex shop only. I think my standards were lowered a lot though… it may have been my imagination just in comparison to the rest.

Book 4 was the best.

The writing had actually improved by this point (or else I really am ruined and nobody should trust my reviews anymore) at least to the amount that I was no longer taking note of it’s dreadfulness. 

In addition, the male lead was actually a bit likeable and charming, and the female seemed to be a sort of well thought out person. The main concept was that they are pretending to be dating, but unlike other books where that is the hook, this just sort of happens by accident rather than a big plan.

The two characters hit it off pretty quickly, they seemed to genuinely fit together, and I didn’t want either of them to get hit by a bus. I was engaged in their story, the sub-plot was a bit interesting, and conclusions were jumped to in a more sensible way than most books. 

Maybe I was just jaded from the previous ones but I actually liked this book. 

There were some loose ends not tied up at the end. And I don’t know if I am giving this book a worse review than I would normally because of the first three, so take my ranking with a grain of salt.

6/10, go ahead and read the fourth one. But don’t strain yourself.

Overall, I give the series 3/10, and I really should have been doing something better with my time.

[thentherewasfury]

it is now late enough and i have enough caffeine and sugar and bad decisions in my system from watching brokeback mountain and shotgunning reeses that i have zero reservations about telling y'all that pim's observation on wade 2.0 was essentially "if he figures out that you think he's hot, he's going to have exactly one dick-shaped priority" and as someone who is overtired and caffeine-hyped and in the middle of shark week who is going to be eighteen in less than a hundred hours i'm saying that if i find that dude and his gorgeous fucking hands outside of the cafe there is going to be a  c o n v e r s a t i o n