#going to call my doctors all pathetic like in the morning. lmao

[narutomaki]

fellas I might have be suffering from c diff and also my fucking sinus is acting and tasting/smelling wierd and my jaw and ear on the same side feel swollen

help?

[yelenasdog]

the pillowtalk of a pessimist (spencer reid x fem reader)

genre: fluff with a millisecond of angst

summary: pillowtalk takes an interesting turn for spencer at the mention of the harsh realities of his work.

words: 1.3k, she’s a shorty.

warnings: nsfw themes (nothing smutty, it’s just implied and also directly stated that they slept together), typical criminal minds violence + death, and maybe cursing? idk. 

a/n: btw this isn’t the fic i was ranting on about that i’m writing, she’s still in the works. also! this could be an x oc or anybody bc i didn’t use y/n if you would prefer to read it as such.

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

A pale stream of moonlight shone through the open window of apartment 23, the home of Doctor Spencer Reid. It illuminated a small section of his bedroom, specifically on one of his many floor to ceiling bookshelves, a beacon of knowledge that was there 24/7 for the taking.

The gold engravings on the spines of his many reads shimmered, a beautiful contrast to the dark mahogany the shelf was made out of.

The room smelled like a mixture of his cologne, her perfume (Chanel no. 5, specifically), and the results of their previous affairs that lingered in the crisp air of the night.

She took a deep breath, settling down further into the white duvet, pulling it over her bosom in response to the chilly temperature. The dark green walls of the room welcomed and calmed her, overwhelming the girl with a wave of serenity that could only be brought to her by him.

He quickly took note of her unsteady breathing and shift in position, immediately jumping to action. He pulled her closer by her shoulders with his strong arms, eliciting a squeal from her and a chuckle from him, more so at her reaction than the move itself.

Her head laid on his bare chest, her hair splayed out with half of it residing on his pillow, the other half on his bicep. She could have appeared to be an angel, although in his eyes, she truly was.

She rested her hand on the left side of his chest over his heart, her fingernail ghosting shapes on his tanned skin. Circles, squiggly lines, even abstract faces.

“How do you do it?”

Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. If his hearing wasn’t so acute, he was sure he would have missed it. This would have saddened the genius greatly, as he valued everything she had to say with a burning ferocity, and even one word lost would be a shame.

“What?”

He was confused by the nature of the question, attempting to search every corner of his brilliant brain for what she might have been referencing. Was it an equation? No, she hated math. Perhaps the way he so effortlessly could play any instrument because yet again, math. He decided that couldn’t be the subject at question either, she played better than he did, glorious melodies flowed from her fingertips. So the doctor was truly stumped.

The answer was simpler than he had imagined.

“Your job.”

With those doe eyes he was so fond of, she looked up, meeting his own glance.

If the term “heart eyes” was able to be personified, Spencer would be the guy to personify it whenever his eyes landed on the one in front of him.

“What do you mean? I get up in the morning, drink some coffee, and get to it.”

She giggled, but the sound he loved so much ceased with her pout.

“That’s not what I mean, Spence. How do you go on everyday, seeing body after body,” she trailed off, obviously distraught. Spencer wrapped his large hand tighter around her, placing his chin on her hairline.

“How do you consistently manage to look at these victims, these people, with lives that they never got to finish living-“ A tear slipped down her cheek, she bit her bottom lip, tasting her own salty droplets on her tongue. She sniffled, burying her head further in his neck with what he presumed was shame.

“And not break down when you do.” Her voice was muffled, but the emotions she felt were evident nonetheless.

He took a moment to carefully articulate an appropriate response. The gears in his mind turned ever so diligently, finding a solution to dry her tears.

“It’s not much different than what I initially said. I get up in the morning, drink some coffee.”

He pushed a hair away from her face, admiring her distinct features as he often did. She looked up, moving her left hand to trace his sharp jaw as he sat in thought.

“And I realize that these people that are now dead, are a part of the hundreds, of throusands, of millions of people that die every year. It’s a part of life, what gives it meaning.”

She gave a dry, humourless laugh.

“What, you don’t have a specific statistic for that?”

“Oh, I do, but I don’t think you want to hear it.” He tilted his head, weighing the option of disclosing the information but deciding against it.

“But the bottom line is, they have families. Families that are grieving, and hurting, and needing answers and justice. I cannot do my job and give them the closure they deserve if I’m staying focused on my own emotions and delving deep into who the victims were, rather than how to catch those responsible for hurting them.”

She moved on to her back, stilling managing to keep her eye contact with Spencer.

“But you’re a profiler! That’s what you do! You’re supposed to, what did you call it, ‘delve deep’ into who they are.”

“Pretty girl, are you trying to tell the one with 3 doctorates how to do his job?”

She rolled her eyes, lazily throwing a hand on his neck, right behind his ear. She ran it back and forth, savoring the intimate moment.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up, Agent.” She taunted, poorly trying (and failing) to agitate Spencer. She had a hunch (that was more true than either of them would let on) that it wasn’t possible for her to do so, and he found himself proving it to be correct.

“I just had to learn to let the family do what they had to do so that I could do the same.”

The girl’s tone softened as she spoke, staring at the popcorn ceiling.

“I guess so. I’m just too empathetic, my heart is too pure.” She joked, a feathery laugh falling past both of their lips.

“Of course. I would expect nothing less.” He teased back, enjoying the dynamic they both held in the tender moment.

“You amaze me.” She muttered, leaning in, analyzing him and his ruffled post-sex hair, his gorgeously long lashes, and his light 5 o’clock shadow that donned his chin.

He huffed quietly, doing the exact same thing, minus the scruff of course.

“I could say the same to you, pretty girl.”

Their lips connected once again, in a different manner than the feverish and needy kiss from before.

This time, it was a union of two individuals, allowing themselves to mould together in a way only the two of them could. It was slower and sweeter, with more feeling poured into their lips while they moved in sync.

“M’ tired.”

“Yeah? You wanna go to sleep, bubs?”

She grinned as she snuggled into his arms, her exhausted eyes fluttering to a close.

“Bubs, huh? That’s new.”

A worried frown made its way onto his face as he rushed to cover up his previous words.

“D-do you not like it? I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable-“

“Spence.”

He stopped, looking over her for any microexpressions, only seeing positive signs. That wasn’t technically profiling, right? He hoped he would be in the clear if she ever was to find out.

“I love it, baby. Say it again.”

“Bubs?”

“Mhm. Say it again.” She sounded with content. He smirked, a proud feeling infiltrating his body, causing him to puff up his chest in the slightest way.

“Goodnight, bubs.”

He reached up, his paranoia forcing him to close the window above him, despite being a more than qualified FBI agent with a revolver safely tucked away in the top drawer of his night stand that never quite was shut all the way.

It was just the pessimist in him.

She wrapped around his figure, intertwining his form with her own.

“Sleep well, Spence.”

He felt happy with her, happier than he had been in a long time. He relished in that, allowing it to lull him to a well needed rest.

But what could he say, she just brought out the optimist in him.

🂦∙🂦∙🂦

hj posting at a time that isn’t 3 am?????? unheard of. also i may or may not have pulled an all nighter to write whatever tf this is bc my ex posted something with his new gf and i felt pathetic LMAO. anyway, i hope your day is fabulous, go drink some water and remember things are what you make of them and it’s all about intent! love you, xx hj.

[spaceyantique]

five’s a crowd [the beatles x reader] part two

series summary: You’re two seconds away from strangling John, three from a total breakdown over midterms. Paul won’t stop using up all the hot water in the mornings and George is determined to beat him there one way or another, godammit. Ringo doesn’t deserve this clusterfuck. And you all live together in a shitty, shitty apartment.

modern beatles x reader au (with some developing george x reader)

notes: not sure if y’all are aware of @kalypsichor​ (if you follow this blog you should be lmao) but she created the first part of this masterpiece late one night, and this mess of writing followed. so this is our first collab! fitting that it’s a crackfic. it’s gonna go back and forth by chapter and it’ll live on both of our masterlists.

originally inspired by this post :)

warnings: literal pure crack, almost no plot. bad characterization of the bug boys, swearing

 part one | part three | part four

masterlist

Being packed into Paul’s tiny car with three obnoxious boys is already not the ideal way to start your morning. Said shitty stick-shift car stalling every eight seconds on top of that morning being during your midterms week is even worse. Being en route to the hospital with one of the three boys in tears and the other two at each other's throats is just the fucking cherry-on-fucking-top. 

“Just use the CLUTCH, for God’s sake, John!”

“ExcUSE me, I don’t see YOU helping!” John snarls at George, who glares right back from the passenger seat.

“It’s not MY fault you can’t fucking-”

“‘M doing fine!” John protests as the car whines, but George continues over him. 

“-not MY fucking fault you can’t drive stick!”

“Well-” John splutters. “You can’t either!”

With a loud, metallic creak, the car jerks to a stop, and Ringo whimpers, still clutching his swollen wrist to his chest. You rub his back and stare balefully at the boys in the front seat, still shouting at each other as John rams the gas pedal.

“Why are you even fucking driving? You can’t see!” George waves his hand aggressively in front of John’s face, and John, in all his crackhead energy, snaps at his fingers with his teeth. George withdraws his hand with a horrified look and pulls himself to the absolute furthest he can be from John while staying in his seat.

The rest of the ride to the hospital is mostly silent, punctuated by poor Ringo’s sniffles and John cursing wildly with each lurch and grumble of Paul’s pathetically old car.

---

You’re all quite a sight when you stumble into Urgent Care. Ringo, with his bed-hair and likely broken wrist and red-striped pyjamas. George, wearing a scowl and a white button-down that’s soaked to his skin because he didn’t have time to dry off before you all rushed out the door. John, with a bloody nose, not from George punching him (though it got close), but from his face colliding with the steering wheel when he shifted gears too quickly and the car stopped suddenly. And you, in sweatpants and a messy bun and clutching your textbook like a velociraptor. 

After nearly a quarter of an hour in the waiting room, a nurse calls Ringo to see the doctor. He smiles weakly at you as you hand him a tissue before disappearing into the exam rooms.

“It’s all Paul’s fault,” George says dryly after a few minutes of silence. Good lord, here we go. You look up from the open textbook on your lap at him. He’s still scowling at the floor. His dark eyes lend him an aura of mystery, and his cheekbones look spectacular under his curly, still-damp hair, and the soaked white button-down is more see-through now than white over his biceps and shoulders, and- 

You try to tear your eyes away to answer him, but you really do have no self-restraint, so your useless brain just supplies a supremely intelligent “huh?” 

Fucking genius.

“It is. If he hadn’t used up all my fucking water, I wouldn’t have come out of the bathroom. And I wouldn’t have been standing there for so long if John-”

“Watch it, poodle boy,” John growls through the paper towel he’s clutching to his nose. In twenty minutes of reading, you’re hardly three pages through your chapter (the correct unit this time, you checked). You sigh, resigning yourself to a solid C on the midterm. Anyway, C’s get degrees, right?

“It’s true,” George argues in a half-whisper. “You were being such an arse that I stayed there longer to listen to your shit. I KNOW you knew that Paul knew that-” 

“I didn’t know SHIT, Geo!” John exclaims, and a middle-aged woman from across the lobby gives him the dirtiest look you’ve seen since you binged Keeping Up With the Kardashians in a weak moment during last year’s finals. George fixes him with an equally withering glare, and you’re glued to his cheekbones again, fucking hell. 

John makes a pissy face and throws his hands up, and God, how long does it take to choke someone out? It can’t be too long, can it?

Ringo would probably be sad if you killed John, your brain tells you, and fuck you, brain, but it’s right.

“Well,” you say, making an effort to not murder John. “At least we know Paul’s very clean.”

A tiny smile breaks George’s face and in only a few seconds, the three of you are giggling uncontrollably in the waiting room of your local A&E. 

“Oh, fuck,” John says, because his nose has started bleeding again, but you can’t stop laughing.

Ringo’s very confused when he emerges only a minute later to see his friends sitting on the floor in the Urgent Care lobby, crying of laughter, but you all attempt to contain yourselves and sign his wrist cast. It’s a pretty, light blue. 

“It matches your eyes,” you tell him, and he beams at you. George’s smile drops a little at the one you return to Ringo, but you’re too busy making your signature as fancy as possible to see it. 

You all bundle into Paul’s shitty car once again, this time with John driving and Ringo in shotgun.

It isn’t until you’re nearly home that you check the time to see it’s nearly two in the afternoon. As the four of you pull into the alley beside your apartment building, you realize with mounting horror that Paul must be home from class by now, completely unaware of the car-full of boys on their way to beat his arse.

“He must be back by now,” George mutters, peering out the window at your second-floor apartment with all the controlled rage of a fucking comic book supervillain. “I’m gonna throttle that clean bastard.”

God help that poor boy, you think.

[septic-dr-schneep]

that fic with jackie and henrik gave me so many feeeeeels ;~; I somehow feel like jackie wouldn't care too much for his own safety after he hurt henrik so badly, and when he does get injured, he wouldn't want to face henrik unless he completed his mission. and I can't stop thinking about someone bringing him into henrik's hospital, unconscious and bleeding, and henrik feeling angry and guilty. (can you tell I'm a whump fan lmao)

Ooooh, boooy, you asked for this by sending me such a great whumpy scenario…

JSE Fanfiction - In Time Of Need (Part 3: Discord #2)

Summary: Jackieboy returns, but he’s not in any condition to make amends with the doctor he hurt so badly. Schneep has to save his life first. 

Schneep thought about him as soon as he pried his eyes open each day.There was a tangible emptiness when he stumbled out of bed, shrugged on hiscoat and made his way down the hall toward the lab, only to find that Jackie wasn’twaiting for him outside the locked door.

It wasn’t right. His throat always felt dry and tight when he rememberedthe terrible things he had said…the terrible things Jackie had said to him inreturn. Each morning, they made him pause with his hand on the handle, his keyin the lock, leaning his head against the doorframe and trying to remember howbreathing worked.

“I don’t haveluxury of running away! I have to watch Jack breathe through machines…”

“I know you,Henrik; you stay because you feel guilty!”

His hand shook, sweat causing his fingers to slip against the smoothmetal doorknob. He knew. He knew it was true, but that didn’t mean hearing thewords from Jackie of all people had hurt any less.

He should never have let him leave. He should have begged with him tostay; he had heard the shock and the regret in the hero’s voice as soon as he’drealized all of the hurtful things he’d said. If Schneep had asked him, he would have stayed just to make up forwounding him so badly. Instead, Schneep had told him to leave. He hadn’t beenable to stomach looking at him, muchless try to go about his day with him.

If Schneep hadn’t raised a fuss about him leaving in the first place,Jackie never would have said those things. He would have gotten a hug before heleft instead of a pathetic touch of the hand. He should have supported hisfriend. Jackie was trying to cope in the best way he knew. Search for Anti. Itwas his answer to everything. Schneep should have understood that.

Guilt burning bitterly against the back of his eyes, he did his best tocollect himself, slipping into the lab. As soon as he laid eyes on Jack,however, the tears took full shape, blurring his view until he hastily scrubbedthe back of his sleeve over his face and crossed the room.

“G—Good morning, Jack,” he whispered, laying a hand over his creator’s.He could almost imagine that Jack’s fingers twitched underneath his own, but heknew they hadn’t. For a long minute he simply stared at him, taking in his palefeatures. His cheeks were getting scruffier day by day. Schneep would need toshave him soon. Such a simple task, but he didn’t want to think about it. Hecleared his throat, lifting his voice a little more to fill the deep void ofsilence.

“I haven’t even had my coffee yet. You know I need that caffeine, but Itend to you first. Not very many people get Dr. Schneeple’s pre-coffeetreatment…You are special. You get spoiled,” he rambled softly as he changedthe IV bags. “I wonder if I were to put coffee in these IVs, if you would openthose eyes. You cannot resist good coffee. Or…heh. Banana milk. You wouldsurely wake up for that, wouldn’t you?” His voice broke as he attempted a weaklaugh and his faint smile faded. “…My Jack. You are something. You do like toplay with our little brains, don’t you? But this…th-this is…more than that. Iplayed with yours a-and I…I did it wrong.”

“You were theone who put Jack in this coma in the first place by failing him—like you alwaysdo!”

“I wish…none of this had happened. I wish I had never even touched you.If I hadn’t, you—you would be awake now. You could have done it yourself. Youwere stronger on your own, Jack…you…you never needed me.”

As soon as he said it, he couldn’t stand to look at Jack anymore,whirling around and making a beeline for the door. He knew Jack wouldn’t bealone for too long; Chase would be coming to watch over him within the hour,which gave him the excuse to escape.

Somehow, facing Jack wasn’t even as difficult as facing his coworkersevery day. They were making more and more comments about how haggard andexhausted he looked, but they couldn’t complain about his work. Schneep madesure that his work didn’t suffer because of his family. All he could do wasinternalize, internalize, internalize until he got in the taxi and could cry itout on the way home. The taxi driver had learned by now not to ask anyquestions.

Until then, however, he had to stay collected. The patients passed backand forth before his eyes, all blending together, none of them too extraordinaryor memorable. They weren’t who he was thinking of, but he forced himself totreat them nonetheless. They were important. He had to do his best for them,just as he would for his family.

“Are you okay, mister?” the little girl sitting on his examination tablequestioned cautiously as he fit her cast on her arm. It was pretty sad when hispatients noticed how grim he was.

“Don’t you worry,” he assured her with a weak smile. “Dr. Schneeplesteinjust hasn’t had his coffee today. I will be just fine.” Lies, lies, lies, lies. Everything was a lie.

The little girl didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t get a chance tokeep prying further; both she and Schneep were distracted by the small swarm ofdoctors making a commotion on the other side of the hall.

“…Male, mid to late twenties, medium build, multiple contusions and lacerations—He’staken a blow to the head—”

“Sir? Sir, can you hear me? Can you tell me who you are?”

“We all know who he is, Rena;this is Jackieboy Man!”

No. No.

Schneep’s heart surged up into his throat just as the pit of his stomachplunged, tools falling through his hands with a shattering clang as he boltedacross the hall with reckless abandon, shoving past the other startledphysicians and latching onto the edge of the gurney with clammy hands.

“Jackieboy?” he gasped out, his breath quickening in a race with hisheart and his stumbling skips to keep up as he was dragged down the hall. Themore his eyes widened, the more he could see the subtle difference between thered in Jackie’s suit and the bloodstains. There were too many. “Jackie, Jackie,what have you done?”

The hero shifted slightly at the sound of his name, prying half-lidded eyesopen to wander toward the lights overhead, though it wasn’t as much of a reliefas it should have been. Even with the shimmering rings of silver light aroundhis pupils, indicating he’d used his powers recently, his gaze was too glazed,too dilated, Schneep agonized. Sticky, half-dried blood was crusted over histemple, on his hood, in his hair—he had to have a concussion.

“I don’t—where is he? I’m not down yet, I’m not…lemme back…” the olderEgo murmured blearily, his hands twitching as if he were about to try pushinghimself upright. Schneep promptly snatched the closer one, squeezing ithelplessly.

“Stay still, stay! You’re in hospital, you’re hurt; you have to stay sowe can help you!” he implored, to which Jackieboy’s brows furrowed in minglingpain and confusion.

“H’spital…?” He tried to shake his head, hissing through his teeth as he earneda spike of pain for his troubles. “No-o-o,” he whined, letting his head fallback and blinking heavily. “No…no, not here…”

“What?”

“Get…get me outta here, I don’t want—H’nrik’s gonna kill me if he sees…Ifhe…sees…”

Fairly quivering with unspoken disbelief and a faint twinge of anger,Schneep clutched his hand all the tighter. “You’re not going anywhere! You’re goingto be okay; just stay with me.” He spoke too late. After his friend’s nextflickering blink, his eyes fell closed and didn’t reopen. “Jackie! No! Jackie, openyour eyes…Jackie! Stay with me here!”

“Schneeplestein, you need to step back,” one of the other doctors began,grabbing at his shoulder. “He needs to be—”

“No, shut up!” Schneep half-sobbed, half-screeched, wrenching out fromhis reach. “I’m going to save him!”Though it went against everything in him, he pried his grip away fromJackieboy’s limp fingers and ducked around the gurney so he could wildly pointthem in the direction of his preferred operating booth.

Though he performed the surgery (accepting very little help from thenurses along the way, never thinking to thank them where they did assist), Schneep wasn’t there to seeJackieboy transferred to a room. As soon as he was stabilized and Schneep couldbe certain that his lung wouldn’t collapse again, he promptly excused himselfto the nearest supply room, dumped several packages of gauze out of theirassigned bin and retched into it.

Nothing substantial came up, given that he hadn’t eaten anything todayand he’d only taken a few moments between patients for water, but he couldn’tstop. He wasn’t even sure why! He hadsucceeded. He had saved Jackie’s life; he was safe, so why did he still feel so chilled, so terrified?

It wasn’t that he wondered what could have happened if he hadn’t savedhim; he knew exactly what would have happened. A pneumothorax led to low bloodpressure, low blood pressure led to shock, and shock led to…He was all too wellaware of the “what ifs” and over the years he’d become a master of pushing themaway. Why was this different?

The nauseating sensation didn’t abate as he pushed the bin aside andstumbled back into the hall, waving vaguely in acknowledgement as one of thenurses read his mind and called Jackie’s room number out to him. When he foundthe proper door, he didn’t hesitate to go in, but as soon as he shouldered thedoor closed behind him and looked up, his breath hitched and he instinctivelyrecoiled, the door handle digging into his lower back as he pressed against it.

Jackie. It didn’t look anything like him; he was stripped of his mask andhis jumpsuit, leaving nothing but a bare, colorless face and a medical gown andbandages and blankets around his waist and an IV lead and a nasal cannula andhe—he was still unconscious.

Comatose.

Jack.

The fear became realization, the realization became dread, and the worldswerved out from under him. As soon as he hit the floor, the doctor curled intohimself, tucking his face between his knees and clutching his hands close tohis aching chest. This wasn’t Jack. This was Jackie, which only made it worse, because Schneep had put him there. Deep down, he knew thathe was to blame.

If you hadn’tfought with him, he wouldn’t have been distracted! You know he was thinking of you instead of how recklessly he was fighting! Youput him here, just like Jack! Just like J̡a̷ck. You failed the b̀o͜th of them.

It seemed his taxi driver wasn’t going to be seeing his tears today; theywere already spilling over and he was helpless to stop them. His only instinctwas to stifle the sobs by snatching at the hem of his coat and burying his facein it until he was near-suffocating.

A mere four feet away, unnoticed by the distraught younger Ego, his herostirred.

[artificialqueens]

Crazy, stupid, sudden (Craquaria) Part 2 - Catrina

A/N: This was gonna be only a one shot bc I didn’t know if you would like it, but you asked, and I delivered. I had so much fun writing this, I hope you like it as much as I did. Some things: 1. Thanks @likeuranus for giving me ideas and opinions, ily! 2. I used Miz as Cracker’s name in the first part bc I was confused about it (for the anon who said it was like calling Miss Fame ‘Miss’) 3. I didn’t expect you would like it so much! PLEASE REMEMBER TO send some feedback if you liked this part and make me know if you want a third part? 4. Would you be insterested if I do a kind of “side chapter” where I explain Sharon and Alaska’s story better? Make me know at @the-glitter-skeleton and feel free to talk to me lmao I need friends <3 That’s it, enjoy.

Miz is going crazy. She just can’t understand —even when Monet tells her there’s nothing to understand— and her stubborn mind isn’t helping at all.

“So, in summary, you have a crush” her friend says, turning to her locker.

“I do” Miz sighs tiredly, leaning her back on the locker next to Monet’s. “And I don’t know how to get close to her”

“You drool over her since last year, didn’t you have enough time to plan shit like that?” she mocks, changing books into her bag.

Miz opens her mouth indignantly, ready to argue. “I don't—”

Monet closes the door of her locker suddenly, looking at her friend with a raised brow. “Christmas party, five months ago; you, Blair and I were outside the theater when certain girl with aquatic name walked by. ’She’s the prettiest thing I’ve seen around here’ quote by you”

Miz knows she’s defeated when her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Smart bitch” she whispers as she rolls her eyes. “Are you helping me or what?”

“Brianna, I wasted my time investigating the bus route on Monday for you. After that anything is easy” Monet giggles when they start walking to their first class. “At least you took the chance when you saw her in the bus; she knows you now. And driving her to school was a good start, you got to see her everyday. That’s something”

“But out of my car we don’t talk at all! The longest conversation we had was about weather. Every time we get here she just thanks the ride and goes away” Miz pouts. “And don’t call me Brianna, only my mom calls me that”

“Whatever, Miz” she remarks ironically. “What I’m going to is that you can go closer easily now”

“But how?”

Monet stays silent until they sit at the back of the classroom. The teacher doesn’t arrive yet, and everyone is too busy chatting to care about it. She looks at Miz with a concerned look that makes her friend know she’s focused. She smiles when an idea comes to her mind, tapping on Miz’s arm to get her attention.

“You have to ask her out!”

-

Fridays are boring. But when Aquaria thinks of it, she realizes everyday is boring. The only interesting part of her days seems to be the way to school and home, when the sees Miz.

But then, everything goes down.

She doesn’t know what’s happening. It’s out of control her every time she combs her hair a little better hoping Miz notices it, or every time she sneaks to Sharon’s room to steal her perfume because it smells better than hers.

It becomes stronger when she looks at her and she can’t help but smiling like a maniac. She knows the feeling, she isn’t dumb; she knows perfectly it’s something she can’t bury. The word love burns into her brain like acid.

Aquaria doesn’t like that word. It’s tough and merciless. She saw the perfect prove with her own moms; destroyed after giving everything they had. Even when Sharon mentions how happy she is now and Alaska assures she’s better alone, she knows Sharon still conserves pictures of her wedding in a box under her bed and Alaska prefers going on business trips so she doesn’t have to be in her huge house that used to be filled with Sharon’s voice.

She doesn’t want that. Miz is nice, funny, special. She’s everything Aquaria has ever wanted and she’s too scared to go for.

It’s useless. She closes her eyes and tries to throw every single idea that has been around her mind this morning away. Her eyes are on the table, quietly chewing on the bread with dry cheese and too much ham of her daily sandwich when a noise makes her lift her head suddenly. It just takes Miz a second to sit by her, looking directly at her soul with those gorgeous big eyes of hers.

“Hey” she smiles. “Mind if I stay here?”

Aquaria almost chokes on the bread as she swallows as fast as she can to answer. “It’s fine” she manages to say, receiving a smile from Miz.

For a moment, they don’t do anything more than eat silently.

“What are you doing tonight?” Miz asks suddenly, her eyes on her food over her plate as she carelessly stings it with a fork.

The question surprises Aquaria. She thinks for a second; she hasn’t anything planned, maybe watching a movie and make dinner for Sharon when she arrives from work, but nothing else. What could she do, anyways? With no friends at all, her nights are just as boring as mornings, but she doesn’t wanna Miz to know that.

“I don’t know” she replies, keeping herself from asking why. “No plans yet, I guess”

“Wanna go out with me?” she asks simply. So fucking simply Aquaria can’t understand why it makes her heartbeats increase.

She can’t think of an answer. She knows she should say no, but Miz is looking at her and the idea seems so irresistible she just can curl the corners of her lips into a little smile and nod. “Yeah”

It’s just going out, she comforts herself, ignoring the huge warning signal in her mind. That isn’t gonna hurt anybody.

“We have a date then!” Miz’s eyes shine.

-

Aquaria is finally at home, nervously walking in a circle on the living room. After taking her home, Miz said she would pick her up at seven before she started the car again and drove until it disappeared of Aquaria’s sight.

She takes her phone and goes to do the first thing she knows she should have done before, dialing the number of Sharon’s office as she throws herself to the couch.

“Good afternoon, you’re calling to the office of doctor Sharon Needles. What can I do for you?” a voice sounds at the other line of the phone.

“Hey Max” she replies with a smile. Her mom’s secretary is nice and always sends Aquaria cookies in Christmas, which of course was an easy way to gain her boss’ daughter’s heart. “Is my mom there?”

“Aqua! It’s good to hear you” Aquaria can swear she’s smiling even when she can’t see her. “And sorry darling, your mom is going to a meeting right now. Something you want me to tell her?”

“Yeah. Just tell her I’m going out with… a friend at seven. I’ll be back early and I’m taking my phone if she wants to call me”

There’s a puse before Max talks again. “Alright sweetheart. As soon as I see her I’ll tell her”

“Okay, thanks Max” Aquaria giggles before hanging up.

-

Hours after, Aquaria is still on the couch, watching a boring cooking show she found changing channels with no order. It’s the best way she has to entretain herself a little, even when the meat the old lady is cooking looks gross. It’s way too much salt, Aquaria thinks as she sighs.

Suddenly, the main door opens, revealing Sharon’s figure in the frame. Aquaria jumps in her spot, looking at her in surprise.

“Mom? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” she asks, sitting sitraght.

“I am, but when Max told me you called I had to run here. My baby has a date!” Sharon snaps cheerfully, closing the door and dropping her purse in the other couch to sit next to her daughter. Her smile is the brightest Aquaria has seen in years, and she can’t help but smiling too.

“You left work… for me?” is all she can ask, incredulous.

“Honey, I’d leave that hellhole for you anytime” Sharon assures.

Aquaria knows it’s true when she remembers Sharon dropping the chance to head a stomach surgery in the middle of the morning because she went to Aquaria’s ballet festival to see her perform. Work is her worst addiction, but her love for Aquaria is way stronger.

“Now, are you gonna tell me who is this nice person who asked you out?” the woman talks again, kicking her heels out so she can fold her legs under her on the couch.

Pathetically or gracefully —depends of Aquaria’s mood— Sharon is her best friend. The few hours she gets to see her are to talk about anything, from homework to annoying coworkers, but she didn’t tell her about Miz because the fear was bigger than the confusion and Aquaria couldn’t organize her mind.

But curling her body against Sharon’s, she sighs and decides to shut her mind down for a second. Just for a second.

“Her name is Miz Cracker, I met her days ago. She’s super nice and gentle—”

“Miz is such a weird name” Sharon comments.

“I know, her real name is Brianna, but she doesn’t like it”

“Oh, that’s cool. And you like her?”

The direct question is like a thrown arrow, going right to Aquaria’s chest. Closing her eyes, she purses her lips, looking for an answer. Love, being a group of negative things in her life, is also an untouched topic with Sharon. That makes it even worse.

“I’m scared, mom” she confesses in a small voice.

“Why, darling?”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“C'mon, you can’t know that if you don’t try. And you’re too young to worry about that. If it doesn’t work, you can try it with someone else! Maybe someone without the name of a cookie as last name” she jokes, petting her hair. “Let those stupid fears outside your head and just enjoy what you can enjoy”

Her words seem to make something in Aquaria’s chest to grow; sudden courage. She doesn’t wanna lose Miz, but if she starts something knowing it can end, at least she’s gonna make it worthwhile. Nodding, she hugs Sharon as tight as she can. “You’re right, so fucking right”

“Nothing new, your mom is really smart” Sharon brags with a smirk, looking down at her watch for a second. “It’s six o'clock, let’s do what I came to! What are you gonna wear?”

Aquaria laughs, being dragged by Sharon upstairs to her room. For some minutes, she sees her mom searching into her closet from her bed, until Sharon turns around with a black dress she hasn’t seen in a while. Her mom looks at it with nostalgia, and Aquaria remembers; is the dress Alaska gave her for her birthday the year before.

Once she puts it on, Sharon takes manage of her hair. She combs it until it’s done and then proceeds with the make up that Aquaria finds unnecessary, but she lets her mom take her as a doll to dress and paint. When she finishes, she can’t stop praising her, petting her head with shining eyes and the biggest smile.

Miz’s car stops outside the house just ten minutes later. Sharon is nervous, maybe more than her own daughter when she hugs her and watches her from the door frame. Miz’s head pocks out of the window, yelling hello and waving at Sharon, who can only do the same.

-

“You look really pretty” Miz praises when Aquaria pulls into the car. She’s all dressed up, wearing a shiny light purple dress that makes her look adorable with her wavy blonde hair perfectly done.

“Thanks” she replies, a smile hiding behind her lips once the door is closed and the car starts. “You look pretty too”

Miz drives through the now dark streets, until they reach a little restaurant Aquaria has seen before. It’s warm and comfortable, and Aquaria feels even better when Miz reaches her side as soon as they’re walking to the door.

When they sit, dangerously close with their knees touching, it feels good. The thrill of disappointment and fear isn’t as big as Aquaria imagined it before, and when Miz smiles at her and asks what are you gonna have? in the sweetest voice, it seems to disappear.

She’s glad Miz can fill the holes in the conversation every time Aquaria just stays silent because the words don’t come out. She talks about her life, her childhood, stupid things that catch her attention —how could Aquaria know Miz actually loved to cook?— and more important, she gets her to do the same. She opens up; grabbing some vegetables with her fork as she tells Miz things she didn’t even remember before.

“I like your voice. It’s good to hear it more than just saying yes, no and I don’t know” Miz mocks, gaining a death gaze from her. “I’m serious, though. It’s really pretty. I could listen to it forever”

“I already listen to your voice always, so I can’t say the same” a high pitched gasp comes out of Miz mouth as Aquaria chuckles, looking down at her plate.

“And she can joke! You’re full of surprises. What else could you be keeping from me?”

“Well, you still don’t know I’m actually a secret agent from the FBI” Aquaria grimaces. “Now that I told you, I have to kill you”

“Okay, you joke about the FBI, that makes you even more perfect now” Miz states in a serious tone that makes Aquaria laugh. “Let’s just marry already”

“I wouldn’t mind that” Aquaria replies, not very attentive of her words. When she realizes what she has said, she bits her lip as her cheeks blush. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay, I was thinking the same” Miz puts her elbow over the table, resting her chin on her hand as she watches the girl in front of her. “You’re beautiful when you blush”

“Only when I blush?” Aquaria teases with a raised brow, the tension tangled in her nerves thankfully decreasing.

“Oh, well—” blinking, Miz seems taken aback. “You’re always beautiful, but, you know, when—”

She stops when Aquaria smiles, letting her know she was joking.

This feels just right.

-

When they head back to Aquaria’s home, the smiles are still there, and the comfortable heat that seems to go between them too. The car stops just where it did hours before, full of a very deserving silence after everything they spoke. Aquaria looks at Miz one more time before she open the door and for her surprise, Miz is already looking at her.

“This was a good night” the blonde comments. Her eyes shine under the street light, making Aquaria to fall in a small trance as she can only stare at them.

“It was” with her voice becoming little, she answers.

And again the silence. Aquaria turns a bit to open the door and Miz knows she should say something else before she goes. She can almost feel Monet’s gaze over her when she touches her arm, asking silently for attention.

“Aqua, I want to tell you something” in her head it sounded better, definitely. Aquaria is looking at her attentively and she just sighs, the nerves running through all her body. “I— wait, no. I just wanna say— I… like you, Aquaria. More than friends”

The words come out, floating in the air for a second before Aquaria can process them. And the silence hits the car once again, but this time it doesn’t feel right. And at the lack of response Miz sighs again, but this time embracing a mix of disappointment and dispair.

“I’m sorry. Please, let’s just be friends. Forget that. It was stupid— you know what? I’m drunk! Yes, so fucking drunk, I don’t know what I’m doing! I shouldn’t be driving”

With no words at all, Aquaria’s hand reaches Miz’s.

“No, Aquaria, don’t do that” with her head shaking negatively, she pulls her hand away as she looks down. “Don’t try to comfort me, I should’ve known”

“What should have you known? That I like you back?”

Miz can’t belive it. It doesn’t even sound true when Aquaria smiles warmly.

“You do?” lifting her head she asks, her insecurity becoming adorable for Aquaria, who can only nod to confirm her answer.

“I definitely do”

A smile grows on Miz’s lips. Is the only reponse her body produces, everything else is completely blank. Even when she tried to be positive about the topic, thinking Aquaria would have a mutual feeling, hearing it is completely different.

Her eyes can’t help but stare directly at her lips, those that look soft and sweet, those she wanted to kiss since a long time ago. She doesn’t even realize when Aquaria’s eyes are back on her, and her body moves closer, against hers, not having to deal with the seat belt. Her hand goes to Aquaria’s, holding it tight. Miz feels her chin being lift by her free hand.

When she looks up, Aquaria’s face is just inches away from hers. She can feel Miz’s heavy breathing coming out of her lightly open mouth.

It's sudden when their lips smash into each other, both of them closing their eyes with excitement running through their veins.

It's crazy when their heartbeats increase to a point they seem to be breathless, looking for air in the other’s mouth.

It's stupid when they break the kiss and their lips feel unsatisfaced, wanting —no, needing— more contact.

All they can do is look at each other, too shaken to talk. Their hands are still holding each other, Aquaria’s hand is still on Miz’s chin and the blonde’s hand has somehow found its way to her waist. Everything feels right. No, not right, it feels even better. It feels crazy, stupid, sudden; just like everything between them. And that’s absolutely perfect.

“Would be dumb if I say this is the best first kiss I ever had even when I never had one before?” Miz asks, eyes full of daydream. “I sounded so ridiculous and cheesy but it’s true. This is even better than I thought”

Talking in the calmest tone Miz has ever listened in Aquaria, she looks down with a little smile. “It was my first one too”

“Was it?” Miz’s brows raise with surprise when she nods. Pride grows in her chest; she was her crush’s first kiss. That’s more than something, Monet would say. “May I be your second one too?”

“You can be as much of them as you want” Aquaria eagerly replies, pulling her on a messy kiss as the car fills of heavy breathes and wonderful heat.

It feels perfect.

[welovekpopscenarios]

Forever (Jeonghan x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Could you do a very angsty scenario with Jeonghan (SVT) where the reader gets into an accident? The end is up to you (if there is a death or not) but rlly angsty pls thank uu

Fandom: SEVENTEEN

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Jeonghan x Reader

Warnings: slight language, self-hatred/blame, car crash, hospitals

Word Count: 1976

Authors Notes: Here you go, Jeonghan angst for your sick, twisted pleasure lmao. I joke, but I tried my best with this, I genuinely got frustrated and upset writing this haha. But! I hope you enjoy it and that it was what you asked for. Let me know if there are any errors, and happy reading! (Or not so happy reading, I guess in this case)

 - PART 2 -

Tap. Tap. Tap.

That was the only sound that could be heard in the empty living room of SEVENTEEN’s dorm. The room was dark; the blinds shut closed hastily, the only light to be found in the room coming from the digital clock on the side table, the green glow displaying the numbers 12:47.

The tapping continues, monotonously, breaking the silence in a dorm that has been plunged into quietude and despair in light of recent events. Jeonghan stares blankly ahead of him, feeling tired beyond belief but in no way shape or form in that state, too alert, too anxious. His phone sits on the armrest beside him, his fingers tap, tap, tapping impatiently against the screen, awaiting a call he knows won’t come until morning, and he hates it.

He doesn’t know whether his body is in a state of shock regarding your accident. He just worked on auto-control after one call ended and another came in yesterday, a call from a stranger, remembering vague words such as ‘emergency contact’, ‘car crash’ and ‘gravely injured’. He only slightly recalls rushing out of the company building with Seungcheol and Joshua in tow, getting into the first car he knew belonged to the company and demanded to be rushed to the hospital.

The hospital where you were held in a critical condition.

He still doesn’t believe it’s real. He just can’t understand it. He still expects to receive a good morning text from you, still expects to send one in return and tell you about his schedule, still expects the messages telling him to eat well, get rest, and do his very best today, like he always does. He just can’t fathom why that’s gone now since yesterday. Why this little mundane thing that managed to brighten up his day every single time is now just…gone. And he desperately wants it to come back.

But what he does understand, the one thing his wretched mind can make sense of in his state of gloom, is that you’re in such a dangerous and life-threatening condition after a brutal car collision.

And it was all his fault.

The members tried to dissuade his views, to lessen the burden on his shoulders and the pain in his heart but he won’t listen. Because he knows. He knows it was his fault. He should have never called you to tell you that SEVENTEEN got nominated for Artist of the Year in some awards show he doesn’t even care about anymore. When you didn’t answer, he shouldn’t have continued to call, eager to relay the good news to you. He must have worried you, he knows as well as you do that he never calls excessively, preferring to reach you later when you have time. Because of his rash decision, you answered the call while stopped at a red light in traffic, a dangerous move but he reckons you were fearful something had happened to him. He spoke over you, in a haste to get his excited news out of his system and celebrate. If he had just stopped to listen to you when you tried to explain you were busy driving, then maybe he wouldn’t have distracted you. That way, he wouldn’t have had to hear the loud crash followed by a yelp from you, glass shattering coming from your end before it all went quiet. Too quiet. And Jeonghan was certain the only sound he heard after that dreadful call was the sound of his heart plummeting from his chest and past his feet, down to the depths of darkness below.

The trip to the hospital with Seungcheol and Joshua at his side was a blur of panicked mutterings and hyperventilating, and as soon as the car pulled up outside the hospital he nearly took the door off in his haste to get to the front desk and ask where you were, how you were doing.

The lady at the desk has checked her files, and regretfully informed him that you were in surgery at the moment, that she didn’t know when you were out, that Jeonghan should sit in the waiting room until a doctor is ready to speak with him.

And so, he sat there for what felt like years, tears brimming his eyes that never fell, too proud to let his composure slip for a second. He observes the crisp white walls of the hospital surrounding him, boxing him in. He observes the pathetic attempts of colour in what he can call singlehandedly the ugliest pieces of artwork possible, and questions the need for such paintings in the first place. A hospital is a hospital. People who are sick enter to get treated, people die in them, it serves its function. People don’t have time to stop and look at those horrible paintings.

Some people don’t have that time to begin with when they enter.

He prays you weren’t one of those people.

He turned off his phone after an hour of receiving missed calls and unread messages, leaving it to Seungcheol and Joshua to break the news to the others. He didn’t want to deal with that. He couldn’t. The reality of the situation would sink in and he’d be damned if he breaks down in the middle of a fucking waiting room with strangers around him. What was it that Joshua had whispered to him at some point? Be strong for you? Yeah, that was it. Right. Be strong. He could do that.

Sure.

The doctor eventually called his name, and he almost didn’t hear, too wrapped up in his own self-loathing to be aware of what was going on around him, until someone nudged him and his snapped up, ready (but not ready – it was too soon yet it had been too long) to face whatever the doctor had to tell him.

And he really wasn’t ready to hear about the suffering you experienced because of his stupid, fucking phone call.

The doctor had spared no details, and Jeonghans terrible mind immediately recreated what was said to him – how the car had crashed into the side of yours, how your head most likely flew into the console, cracking open your skull and bruising your brain, how you had broken several bones throughout your body, how you had lost a severe amount of blood in that short amount of time and that was worrying in itself. He listened to the doctor saying how they had done everything they could to heal you, put you back together again like you were humpty dumpty (it’s not enough, do more he wanted to scream, but restrained himself), and that you were resting now after surgery.

The doctor allowed him to see you, but gazed at him with eyes full of warning, warning to prepare himself for what he will find when he enters the room.

Sparing the doctor no more than a thank you, he rushed to the room you were kept in and his knees almost gave out at the sight that greeted him.

There you lay in a room even whiter and more sterile than the waiting room, the addition of machines and monitors instead of those hideous paintings, and a bed too big for your frail form. And frail it was, covered head to toe in bruises and cuts of various colours, dried patches of blood where the doctors didn’t clean yet, and tubes sticking out from where they shouldn’t be.

You didn’t look like yourself. You didn’t. You didn’t belong in this room. You didn’t belong in this hospital. It was all his fault you were here. It should be him on that bed instead of you. He doesn’t care.

He caused immense pain to the one person who didn’t deserve it, the one person he promised he wouldn’t, and there was no other person who he hated more than himself.

It was scary how you seemed to blend in with the dullness of the room around you, your shine and brilliance missing from the world now. He wants to hear your voice once more instead of the beeps of the machines, to feel the small hand he’s grasping squeeze around his once more, to see your smiling face rather than a busted lip.

He wanted to stay there all night, all day, as long as he could, but the company wouldn’t allow it, urged him to get his rest despite his pleas and cries and begs, and so, with great reluctance and a heavy heart, he was brought home to see the faces of ten distressed boys, concerned for your well-being and for his.

And he couldn’t feel worse.

He doesn’t know when exactly he fell asleep, but when he woke up, he found he was covered in a blanket and a pillow was placed under his head. He smells Mingyu’s cooking from the kitchen, can hear the boys shuffle around, and all of this is almost enough to get him to forget what happened, until he sees his phone, free of any good morning messages, and once again he’s plunged into a case of anguish and hatred.

It's close to ten in the morning, and he’s about to get up and make himself somewhat presentable when his phone buzzes and he answers with lightning speed. The hospital wants him to come down to discuss an unfortunate development in your state, him being the only one to contact as your parents are still out of the country, and he agrees with a shaky voice, getting ready as fast as possible to head back to the dreaded building, this time with twelve boys behind him in tow, insistent on supporting the two of you.

And so, the group enters the hospital and alerts a nurse to their presence, making a beeline to your room and awaiting the doctor’s news. The boys gasp and display horrified expressions at the sight of you, murmuring phrases of sympathy to Jeonghan but he pays them no mind, too busy focusing on you. You look the same as yesterday, but something seems off, and it makes his skin crawl.

The doctor form yesterday makes his appearance, and looks reluctant to share the news in front of a crowd, but Jeonghan tells him to continue. Whatever he says to him he can say to them as well. They’re a family.

But Jeonghan wasn’t expecting to be told you were in a coma. And that they have no clue when you will wake up. Could be days, weeks, months, years from this very moment.

More medical phrases are thrown at him, and going completely over his head because his brain has shut down, just blank. Blank except for the image of you on your first date with Jeonghan. A day filled with nerves and shy touches. A day he’ll never be able to go back to, but one he holds dear in his heart, as well as the other ones. Ones, he realises, he won’t get to have again.

And, it’s with this thought in his mind, that once the doctor leaves the room and it’s just him, you, and the other members, he breaks down, the tears that were bubbling under the surface since yesterday spilling over with no signs of stopping, his chest heaving for air that just won’t come.

Some members stand shocked or sorrowful, watching the seen with saddened eyes, others rush to his side to wrap him up in their arms, arms that feel too suffocating for him.

You’ve been taken away from him. He doesn’t know when you’ll speak or walk or even look at him again. And he feels nothing but emptiness take over him despite the other members in the room.

But he’ll wait forever if he must. He will. He loves you.

He just doesn’t know if forever will allow him.

[lavenderek]

Derek was a very shitty boyfriend in viridian. But other than that I will never disparage the glory that is tutor!verse

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH. yeah.

this is a cathartic viridian hate post under the cut

yes he was a shitty boyfriend, and his characterization is 1000% unrecognizable as derek hale, i am humiliated that at one point i tried to pin that character’s name on this cardboard cutout of an ~~~awkward~~~~ person. how oblivious do you have to be? who doesn’t notice their actual significant other, who they have been dating for years at that point, not being physically present anymore? who, in this year of our lord 2013 (which is when i shat that thing out onto the internet), loses their phone for, like, weeks, and doesn’t notice. like clearly if stiles was texting him and “jerry” was texting him, this is a form of communication derek was harnessing on the regular lmfao? how was he waking up in the morning? how was “jerry” informing him of their hangouts? how was he keeping in touch with his sister? what did he do when he was pooping? god, what the fuck?

and hey, while we’re at it, stiles was pretty shitty too! in what world does stiles stilinski just, like, waft sadly around and cook his anxiety away? had i never seen the show? where was i getting this shit? there is one thing that is known about stiles’ personality. there is one thing that is undeniable. there is one thing that is explicitly lampshaded throughout the show. stiles is sarcastic. when is he “sarcastic” in this series? he’s not. he says goofy shit sometimes, and that’s it. who is this guy? what does he do? where did he come from?

but then we get to “jerry,” the grand poobah of bullshit. i selected the name “jerry” because it was generic as fuck and i couldn’t be fucked to write a character. “jerry” has no personality and antagonizes stiles for no particular reason, and it’s sort of implied that he does it because he wants to fuck derek? but like! derek has no personality! “jerry” could have fucked literally anyone. he could have fucked a blowup doll and it would have been an identical experience. i don’t even describe derek physically. like, in that fic, i never describe him. you don’t know what he looks like. for all you know, derek in this series could have that benjamin button disease. you never see “jerry” and derek have, like, any conversation. do they even like each other? what do they even talk about?

for that matter, what do derek and stiles talk about? all they ever talk about is the fact that they’re dating. they never just, like, shoot the shit. at least the first installment, which is fuckin’ lousy with “~~~awkward derek googoo gaga” bullshit, has them talk about something other than each other, for all it lasts two sentences.

cheeseburger mac is delicious, though. what i love is that derek just has like half a pound of ground beef just, like, sitting in his fridge lmfao. these are two boys in college, and they both openly admit that neither of them cleans or does the dishes unless stiles is having an anxiety attack, but derek went out at some point and bought a half pound of ground beef and stuck it in the fridge. what was it intended for? when did he buy it? how long had it been in there? who was going to cook it? when? why? how do you end up with, like, incidental ground beef? this is absurd. who wrote this? oh, i remember.

and the best part, actually, is that in order to have anal sex, you have to do a lot of prep beforehand? and most of us just pretend that’s not a thing because we don’t like to think about that stuff, but just knowing that that is reality, that means that stiles had to have, like, given himself an enema before this makeup date. this wasn’t supposed to be a sexy date, this was supposed to be them, like, grabbing dinner and talking through a rough patch. this was makeup sex, and makeup sex is supposed to be spontaneous, and i wrote this like it was spontaneous, but it wasn’t. this is a plothole i ordinarily would give a pass, but not in this case, because it’s not a good fic. it’s just not lmao.

other things i hate about “viridian,” in no particular order:

the class is just called “history.” i was in my second year of college at that point. there is no excuse for naming a college history course “history.”

that last lemon squeeze of schmoopy whining about what derek “would do” if he knew stiles was sad, which - no, he probably wouldn’t have done any of that shit, because he’s not fuckin prince cotton candy charming and stiles isn’t sleeping beauty kissy poo what the fuck

derek’s birthday dinner. they went to chili’s, and who was there? we know stiles was there, and we know “jerry” was there. presumably there are others? maybe? could also just be stiles and “jerry” sitting alone at the table while derek’s in the bathroom. no way of knowing.

yes we get it you watched doctor who one time

i’ve mentioned this before, but the fact that they fucked on the freshly mopped floor of a diner, which is absolutely vile, and after three years working food service, i knew better, which makes it even worse

that scene transition where i didn’t want to deal with “jerry” anymore so i just went “dereks outta time!!! zippo!!!!!!” and had derek literally sprint across town to the diner i’m laughing so hard jesus fucking christ

when i wrote that fic, i was very fragile and very immature, and the fact that it employs everything i hate in a sterek fic aside, it just brings me right back to that intensely embarrassing and miserable stage in my life where i had no sense of subtlety. it was a shitty time of my life and i wasn’t happy, and i hate who i was then, i really do. i made bad decisions and had bad attitudes. i had no idea how to be a good friend to someone. i don’t much like my personality now, but i hate That Me’s personality more.

this plot was self-pitying and whiny. i was obviously projecting my own insecurities about being wanted and my absence being noticed into a fanfiction, and it’s pathetic. like, it’s really just sad. i can’t call it a self insert because i never could decide who i related to lmao, but it definitely is just a cry for help.

like, please don’t misunderstand, i’m truly humbled and grateful that anyone would like something i made; but the fact that this is the thing that it is, makes me froth at the mouth. i feel like i am being flushed down a toilet. i put so much effort and thought into the things i make, dude. i’m not making any claims as to whether any of them are good, i’m just saying that i work on them and only put them up if i think they, like, fit in with the other shit i’ve made. i have a longfic i have been nursing for two years. i take months writing chapters of dyk. even that fuckin tumblr fic i wrote for julie this last christmas took me several rounds of editing. education and viridian were each hammered out in an hour and a half in the library at school while i ditched classes i had paid for, and you can tell! because even “bingo,” which isn’t something i would write now and which i don’t really consider to be very in character, was thoughtfully laid out and treated with some semblance of self-respect.

viridian is shameful pandering. it was me begging for attention. i don’t like it. i’m by no means claiming any of the shit i make is empirically good, seriously, i’m not. i’m just saying that i work on the things i make, and this thing was not worked on. this thing was flung into cyberspace with no thought whatsoever. it’s called “viridian”? because viridian is a shade of green. green for jealousy. yeah. that’s the kind of in-depth planning we’re talking here. but who is jealous??? stiles or “jerry”??????????????????? me. i’m jealous. of people who are talented.

if the eight of y’all still wanna read that thing, go for it. go nuts. and while y’all are doing that, i’m gonna be over here bitching about it.

[samanthasroberts]

Southern Charm Recap: Can They Get Any More White?

I have emerged from my two-day hangover solely to write this weeks recap. Guess killing brain cells is one of my hobbies now.

When we left off I wasnt sure if I was Team Kathryn or Team Whitney, and I dont think thats ever going to get resolved tbh. However, I did just notice Kathryns facial expression in the opening sequence more or less sums up her entire personality.

Thomas and JD, back at it again with the polo. Cause that ended really well the last time. Can they get any more white?

Whitney has some fruit salad and is making coffee and Larissas like, If that’s cooking, I’m about to be the next winner of.

Whitney trying to explain what going steady means to Larissa is pretty hilarious tho.

Kathryn andKody? Corey? Fuck, I forgetare getting a seaweed facial or some shit, AKA Bravo is pampering them so they can talk shit in style. Nice.

Kathryn is bummed that once she has her baby she has to go home alone with her two children.

Kathryn: Im a 24-year-old soon-to-be mother of two. If you dont think Im overwhelmed and nervous then you dont think.

Wow that was like, unnecessarily aggressive Kath.

Cooper? Cooper! Calls Thomas a 50-year-old playboy and is like,

Cooper: Instead of letting it frustrating you I just say let it strengthen you.

Cooper is the moral compass this show needs.

Meanwhile Thomas is sipping bourbon with JD on his porch because Kathryn really needs him.

JD: Hows the baby? Thomas: The doctor said fine… JD looks skeptical, because Im sure he knows better than a trained doctor.

JD: Kathryn moving up the due date seems awfully peculiarseems suspect.

JD is a regular Hardy Boy over here.

JD: I think women dont like being asked for paternity tests.

NO FUCKING SHIT.

JD is like, and Thomas is like, Its clear hes forgotten who hes about to have a kid with because Kathryn is NOT going to be down with Thomas basically accusing her of slutting it up and then trying to trap him into fatherhood. JUST SAYING.

Its date night with Craig and Naomie. Craig chooses going to L.A. over the biggest event for his company, because hes never been to L.A. before. And Craig wonders why hes not allowed to head a bourbon division. I don’t foresee this ending well AT ALL. Craig, youre a fucking idiot and for once Naomie is in the right to tell you youre fucking up.

Craig: Do you see how hard Im trying to justify this?

Yeah, because you KNOW YOURE IN THE WRONG. Thats literally what justification is.

Cameran and Landon meet up for a candle-making class and I am kind of jealous because that low-key sounds fun. Landons explaining her travel guide to Cam, so Im going to take a quick nap.

Cameran: I think its hard for Landon bc she was a typical Southern stereotype of the woman who got married young and was taken care of and she doesnt have that anymore.

Wait, how is this the first Im hearing of this failed first marriage? How has this NEVER come up before this season??

Cameran: So any man prospects? Landon: IDK not really its kind of sad and pathetic.

Landon is like Same tho. Cameran: Do you think the reason youre not meeting anyone is because you want something to work out with Shep? Landon:…Yeah

Cameran and I are both like, FINALLY!

*Cue a montage of them looking really couple-y* I’m rooting for you guys!

Landon brings up every middle schoolers dilemma which is that if she dates Shep, then shell lose him as a friend. Can we get like, a violin quartet to score some melodramatic music or something?

Craig and Shep make it to L.A. and Whitneys bachelor pad is sick. I guess this is what that Bravo money gets you. On an unrelated note, I have a very compelling idea for a new reality show, if you wanna get on board Bravo, Ill get you in at the ground level.

Craig: I wouldve had FOMO if I hadnt gotten to come out heresothanks.

Whitney: Meh whatevs

Whitney: #NewCraig has taken on this persona thats like, not chill dude.

Whitney basically lets it go with the caveat that he may never fully trust Craig again. Eh, Im sure theyll be fine.

Shep: You know when youre perfectly drunk and youre really good at pool? Is that like when Im really drunk and I think Im really good at dancing?

Classic Shmosby.

Larissa crashes the boys weekend which is not at all chill. Larissa is, I guess, the WGG of the group.

Shep: Should I change? I dont want to look all fratty and Southern.

Well that ship sailed like, approximately 36 years ago. Whitney makes a joke about waking up in the morning covered in blood and vomit. Was he secretly with me and my friends this weekend? Unclear. V. possible.

These two slutty-looking blondes show up and Shep is in fucking heaven. Craig low-key wants to kill himself.

Whitney: The goofy, disarming thing works in Charleston but not so much in L.A.

I’m sorry, Whitney, but who you callin goofy? You’re not exactly a chiseled Greek god over there. Whitney takes a casual shot at Craigs bourbon knowledge, or lack thereof, and now that hes gotten that off his chest this friendship is back on track.

The aftermath of Whitneys party looks a lot like the scene I dealt with Sunday morning. So, like, maybe they really were there.

Whitney: The marker of a good boys weekend is a pool of vomit with a partially digested meatball in the middle.

Whitney talks about how Shep didnt get any last night and Whitney said he had a meeting with Hand Solo which made me LOL.

Sheps like, and Im getting soooo mf sick of this trope. I am convinced Shep just acts this way because y’all expect him to be a fuckboy and nobody challenges him or holds him to a higher standard. Also, there’s just no way his dick games that good. THERE IS NO WAY.

JD is on the phone with Paula and SURPRISE, Craig basically didnt do shit for this festival yet still wants to be head of the bourbon division. The entitlement is strong with this one. Craigs phone is dead, party casualty, so JD is calling around to all Craigs friends like the angry dad he is. Did I mention this was dumb af, Craig?

Also, LMAO at how hungover they all look. Their hangovers are giving me life.

Craig: I just feel like Im being used to do all the bitchwork and its annoying. I lied, THIS is the whitest thing to happen on this show.

Shep: People take work too seriously. What happened to just drinking beer and laughing your balls off?

Yeah Shep, I think this may be why your restaurant is struggling to pay the rent.

Thomas and Kathryn are discussing the ins and outs of labor, which I will file away for future knowledge. Thomas calls Kathryn an expert at giving birth which is like, kind of rude lol. But I guess also accurate?

Kathryns opening up to Thomas about being alone this time around, looking up at him with big doe eyes, and Thomas is like,SHUT DOWN.

Thomas: The timing is really bad for me, could you just like, not give birth rn?

Kathryn: Thats why I like having you around, youre like a calming presence IDK why.

Kathryn, do you know what calming means? Im starting to think not.

Back at Whitneys, some massage therapist named Megan shows up, and Shep clearly has a boner.

Shep: So youre gonna give us all massages now?

Megan: Its like holding space to really connect more with yourself.

Shep is blatantly sexually harassing this poor girl. JFC. This is so creepy. Tone it the fuck down.

JD & Co. is launching his bourbon line at Charleston Cup, this horse race in Charleston. Craig is nowhere to be found, shockingly.

JD: Work isnt all roses and cherries. Sometimes its dirt and trenches.

Im putting that on a needlepoint for my office.

Sheps not going because his grandpa died. OK thats actually like, very sad. My condolences.

We will now resume with our regularly scheduled program of shit-talking.

Craig is taking forever to get readyCraig and Chad from are both the secret Betches interns.

Craig is hungover with an upset stomach and a sinus infection, which is literally what happens to me every time I drink. AKA right now. We’ll get through this, Craig. Emergen-c and green tea all mf day.

Cams like,

Craig apparently slept in and didnt do anything to help JD set up. Which, Im not surprised by, but again, is a really bad move for when youre trying to show initiative.

Cameran: #NewCraig is starting to run its course because at this point hes becoming #OldCraig

Dannis dropping some random whiskey fun facts and Craig is like, Fuck the bourbon division, Im not sure Craig is qualified to have any job at Gentry HQ, PERIOD. How the fuck is he going to be a lawyer if he never wants to do work? He’s gonna have a rude awakening if he ever makes it to first-year associate (I have heard).

Craig is there for all of two minutes and is already like, fuck this Im leaving.

Oh JK Craig didnt actually leave. JD gives a speech and what do you wanna bet Craig is gonna get shafted in this thank-you speech?

Wait for it..

BOOM. SHAFTED. I called it.

Cameran is so into this race its scary. How much money did she put down on that horse? Judging by her reaction to losing, Id say a lot.

Once again JD is dressed like a 1920s fat cat. Live your truth, JD.

JDs like, and Craig is like,

JD: Do you think you should have gone out of town? Craig: I mean Ive never had to give up a trip for a job so

Oh boy, Craig. I fear for you in the real world. I really do.

At Kathryns, she and Thomas are eating dinner. Kathryns going into labor tomorrow morning. I hope they dont actually film her birth. That would be kind of fucked.

Thomas: I want to have a traditional family, hear the shnookums running around, hear the house fill with laughter.

Lol, “shnookums” only makes me think of one thing:

Thomas: I still love Kathryn, I care about her but Im afraid a day of reckoning is forthcoming.

UH OH.

Kathryn asks Thomas how he feels and he says hes apprehensive and shes like, BRUH, FEEL APPREHENSIVE?!

Kathryn: If I say anything mean to you tomorrow just give me a free pass.

OK thats fair, she is giving birth and all.

Kathryn gets up and eats some generic brand Lucky Charms before giving birth. I take it all back, she really is struggling with money.

OK low blow. Sorry. Kind of.

Seeing the sheer amount of diapers in Kathryns house is enough to make me never forget to take my birth control.

Thomas: For some reason, maybe through divine intervention we were brought together. Steven Spielberg I believe said, Ive made a lot of movies, but my greatest creation of all was a child.

So I wonder at what point Thomas is gonna be like Who am I kidding, theyre gonna drag that out at least over the course of another epsiode.

OK enough shit-talking from me. That baby is cute. What did they name him?? How they gonna leave us hanging like that?

div.body_middle_part_right .bodypart:nth-child(n+2), a.prevBody{display: none;}

Source: http://allofbeer.com/southern-charm-recap-can-they-get-any-more-white/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2018/03/16/southern-charm-recap-can-they-get-any-more-white/

[jimdsmith34]

Southern Charm Recap: Can They Get Any More White?

I have emerged from my two-day hangover solely to write this weeks recap. Guess killing brain cells is one of my hobbies now.

When we left off I wasnt sure if I was Team Kathryn or Team Whitney, and I dont think thats ever going to get resolved tbh. However, I did just notice Kathryns facial expression in the opening sequence more or less sums up her entire personality.

Thomas and JD, back at it again with the polo. Cause that ended really well the last time. Can they get any more white?

Whitney has some fruit salad and is making coffee and Larissas like, If that’s cooking, I’m about to be the next winner of.

Whitney trying to explain what going steady means to Larissa is pretty hilarious tho.

Kathryn andKody? Corey? Fuck, I forgetare getting a seaweed facial or some shit, AKA Bravo is pampering them so they can talk shit in style. Nice.

Kathryn is bummed that once she has her baby she has to go home alone with her two children.

Kathryn: Im a 24-year-old soon-to-be mother of two. If you dont think Im overwhelmed and nervous then you dont think.

Wow that was like, unnecessarily aggressive Kath.

Cooper? Cooper! Calls Thomas a 50-year-old playboy and is like,

Cooper: Instead of letting it frustrating you I just say let it strengthen you.

Cooper is the moral compass this show needs.

Meanwhile Thomas is sipping bourbon with JD on his porch because Kathryn really needs him.

JD: Hows the baby? Thomas: The doctor said fine… JD looks skeptical, because Im sure he knows better than a trained doctor.

JD: Kathryn moving up the due date seems awfully peculiarseems suspect.

JD is a regular Hardy Boy over here.

JD: I think women dont like being asked for paternity tests.

NO FUCKING SHIT.

JD is like, and Thomas is like, Its clear hes forgotten who hes about to have a kid with because Kathryn is NOT going to be down with Thomas basically accusing her of slutting it up and then trying to trap him into fatherhood. JUST SAYING.

Its date night with Craig and Naomie. Craig chooses going to L.A. over the biggest event for his company, because hes never been to L.A. before. And Craig wonders why hes not allowed to head a bourbon division. I don’t foresee this ending well AT ALL. Craig, youre a fucking idiot and for once Naomie is in the right to tell you youre fucking up.

Craig: Do you see how hard Im trying to justify this?

Yeah, because you KNOW YOURE IN THE WRONG. Thats literally what justification is.

Cameran and Landon meet up for a candle-making class and I am kind of jealous because that low-key sounds fun. Landons explaining her travel guide to Cam, so Im going to take a quick nap.

Cameran: I think its hard for Landon bc she was a typical Southern stereotype of the woman who got married young and was taken care of and she doesnt have that anymore.

Wait, how is this the first Im hearing of this failed first marriage? How has this NEVER come up before this season??

Cameran: So any man prospects? Landon: IDK not really its kind of sad and pathetic.

Landon is like Same tho. Cameran: Do you think the reason youre not meeting anyone is because you want something to work out with Shep? Landon:…Yeah

Cameran and I are both like, FINALLY!

*Cue a montage of them looking really couple-y* I’m rooting for you guys!

Landon brings up every middle schoolers dilemma which is that if she dates Shep, then shell lose him as a friend. Can we get like, a violin quartet to score some melodramatic music or something?

Craig and Shep make it to L.A. and Whitneys bachelor pad is sick. I guess this is what that Bravo money gets you. On an unrelated note, I have a very compelling idea for a new reality show, if you wanna get on board Bravo, Ill get you in at the ground level.

Craig: I wouldve had FOMO if I hadnt gotten to come out heresothanks.

Whitney: Meh whatevs

Whitney: #NewCraig has taken on this persona thats like, not chill dude.

Whitney basically lets it go with the caveat that he may never fully trust Craig again. Eh, Im sure theyll be fine.

Shep: You know when youre perfectly drunk and youre really good at pool? Is that like when Im really drunk and I think Im really good at dancing?

Classic Shmosby.

Larissa crashes the boys weekend which is not at all chill. Larissa is, I guess, the WGG of the group.

Shep: Should I change? I dont want to look all fratty and Southern.

Well that ship sailed like, approximately 36 years ago. Whitney makes a joke about waking up in the morning covered in blood and vomit. Was he secretly with me and my friends this weekend? Unclear. V. possible.

These two slutty-looking blondes show up and Shep is in fucking heaven. Craig low-key wants to kill himself.

Whitney: The goofy, disarming thing works in Charleston but not so much in L.A.

I’m sorry, Whitney, but who you callin goofy? You’re not exactly a chiseled Greek god over there. Whitney takes a casual shot at Craigs bourbon knowledge, or lack thereof, and now that hes gotten that off his chest this friendship is back on track.

The aftermath of Whitneys party looks a lot like the scene I dealt with Sunday morning. So, like, maybe they really were there.

Whitney: The marker of a good boys weekend is a pool of vomit with a partially digested meatball in the middle.

Whitney talks about how Shep didnt get any last night and Whitney said he had a meeting with Hand Solo which made me LOL.

Sheps like, and Im getting soooo mf sick of this trope. I am convinced Shep just acts this way because y’all expect him to be a fuckboy and nobody challenges him or holds him to a higher standard. Also, there’s just no way his dick games that good. THERE IS NO WAY.

JD is on the phone with Paula and SURPRISE, Craig basically didnt do shit for this festival yet still wants to be head of the bourbon division. The entitlement is strong with this one. Craigs phone is dead, party casualty, so JD is calling around to all Craigs friends like the angry dad he is. Did I mention this was dumb af, Craig?

Also, LMAO at how hungover they all look. Their hangovers are giving me life.

Craig: I just feel like Im being used to do all the bitchwork and its annoying. I lied, THIS is the whitest thing to happen on this show.

Shep: People take work too seriously. What happened to just drinking beer and laughing your balls off?

Yeah Shep, I think this may be why your restaurant is struggling to pay the rent.

Thomas and Kathryn are discussing the ins and outs of labor, which I will file away for future knowledge. Thomas calls Kathryn an expert at giving birth which is like, kind of rude lol. But I guess also accurate?

Kathryns opening up to Thomas about being alone this time around, looking up at him with big doe eyes, and Thomas is like,SHUT DOWN.

Thomas: The timing is really bad for me, could you just like, not give birth rn?

Kathryn: Thats why I like having you around, youre like a calming presence IDK why.

Kathryn, do you know what calming means? Im starting to think not.

Back at Whitneys, some massage therapist named Megan shows up, and Shep clearly has a boner.

Shep: So youre gonna give us all massages now?

Megan: Its like holding space to really connect more with yourself.

Shep is blatantly sexually harassing this poor girl. JFC. This is so creepy. Tone it the fuck down.

JD & Co. is launching his bourbon line at Charleston Cup, this horse race in Charleston. Craig is nowhere to be found, shockingly.

JD: Work isnt all roses and cherries. Sometimes its dirt and trenches.

Im putting that on a needlepoint for my office.

Sheps not going because his grandpa died. OK thats actually like, very sad. My condolences.

We will now resume with our regularly scheduled program of shit-talking.

Craig is taking forever to get readyCraig and Chad from are both the secret Betches interns.

Craig is hungover with an upset stomach and a sinus infection, which is literally what happens to me every time I drink. AKA right now. We’ll get through this, Craig. Emergen-c and green tea all mf day.

Cams like,

Craig apparently slept in and didnt do anything to help JD set up. Which, Im not surprised by, but again, is a really bad move for when youre trying to show initiative.

Cameran: #NewCraig is starting to run its course because at this point hes becoming #OldCraig

Dannis dropping some random whiskey fun facts and Craig is like, Fuck the bourbon division, Im not sure Craig is qualified to have any job at Gentry HQ, PERIOD. How the fuck is he going to be a lawyer if he never wants to do work? He’s gonna have a rude awakening if he ever makes it to first-year associate (I have heard).

Craig is there for all of two minutes and is already like, fuck this Im leaving.

Oh JK Craig didnt actually leave. JD gives a speech and what do you wanna bet Craig is gonna get shafted in this thank-you speech?

Wait for it..

BOOM. SHAFTED. I called it.

Cameran is so into this race its scary. How much money did she put down on that horse? Judging by her reaction to losing, Id say a lot.

Once again JD is dressed like a 1920s fat cat. Live your truth, JD.

JDs like, and Craig is like,

JD: Do you think you should have gone out of town? Craig: I mean Ive never had to give up a trip for a job so

Oh boy, Craig. I fear for you in the real world. I really do.

At Kathryns, she and Thomas are eating dinner. Kathryns going into labor tomorrow morning. I hope they dont actually film her birth. That would be kind of fucked.

Thomas: I want to have a traditional family, hear the shnookums running around, hear the house fill with laughter.

Lol, “shnookums” only makes me think of one thing:

Thomas: I still love Kathryn, I care about her but Im afraid a day of reckoning is forthcoming.

UH OH.

Kathryn asks Thomas how he feels and he says hes apprehensive and shes like, BRUH, FEEL APPREHENSIVE?!

Kathryn: If I say anything mean to you tomorrow just give me a free pass.

OK thats fair, she is giving birth and all.

Kathryn gets up and eats some generic brand Lucky Charms before giving birth. I take it all back, she really is struggling with money.

OK low blow. Sorry. Kind of.

Seeing the sheer amount of diapers in Kathryns house is enough to make me never forget to take my birth control.

Thomas: For some reason, maybe through divine intervention we were brought together. Steven Spielberg I believe said, Ive made a lot of movies, but my greatest creation of all was a child.

So I wonder at what point Thomas is gonna be like Who am I kidding, theyre gonna drag that out at least over the course of another epsiode.

OK enough shit-talking from me. That baby is cute. What did they name him?? How they gonna leave us hanging like that?

div.body_middle_part_right .bodypart:nth-child(n+2), a.prevBody{display: none;}

source http://allofbeer.com/southern-charm-recap-can-they-get-any-more-white/ from All of Beer http://allofbeer.blogspot.com/2018/03/southern-charm-recap-can-they-get-any.html

[adambstingus]

Southern Charm Recap: Can They Get Any More White?

I have emerged from my two-day hangover solely to write this weeks recap. Guess killing brain cells is one of my hobbies now.

When we left off I wasnt sure if I was Team Kathryn or Team Whitney, and I dont think thats ever going to get resolved tbh. However, I did just notice Kathryns facial expression in the opening sequence more or less sums up her entire personality.

Thomas and JD, back at it again with the polo. Cause that ended really well the last time. Can they get any more white?

Whitney has some fruit salad and is making coffee and Larissas like, If that’s cooking, I’m about to be the next winner of.

Whitney trying to explain what going steady means to Larissa is pretty hilarious tho.

Kathryn andKody? Corey? Fuck, I forgetare getting a seaweed facial or some shit, AKA Bravo is pampering them so they can talk shit in style. Nice.

Kathryn is bummed that once she has her baby she has to go home alone with her two children.

Kathryn: Im a 24-year-old soon-to-be mother of two. If you dont think Im overwhelmed and nervous then you dont think.

Wow that was like, unnecessarily aggressive Kath.

Cooper? Cooper! Calls Thomas a 50-year-old playboy and is like,

Cooper: Instead of letting it frustrating you I just say let it strengthen you.

Cooper is the moral compass this show needs.

Meanwhile Thomas is sipping bourbon with JD on his porch because Kathryn really needs him.

JD: Hows the baby? Thomas: The doctor said fine… JD looks skeptical, because Im sure he knows better than a trained doctor.

JD: Kathryn moving up the due date seems awfully peculiarseems suspect.

JD is a regular Hardy Boy over here.

JD: I think women dont like being asked for paternity tests.

NO FUCKING SHIT.

JD is like, and Thomas is like, Its clear hes forgotten who hes about to have a kid with because Kathryn is NOT going to be down with Thomas basically accusing her of slutting it up and then trying to trap him into fatherhood. JUST SAYING.

Its date night with Craig and Naomie. Craig chooses going to L.A. over the biggest event for his company, because hes never been to L.A. before. And Craig wonders why hes not allowed to head a bourbon division. I don’t foresee this ending well AT ALL. Craig, youre a fucking idiot and for once Naomie is in the right to tell you youre fucking up.

Craig: Do you see how hard Im trying to justify this?

Yeah, because you KNOW YOURE IN THE WRONG. Thats literally what justification is.

Cameran and Landon meet up for a candle-making class and I am kind of jealous because that low-key sounds fun. Landons explaining her travel guide to Cam, so Im going to take a quick nap.

Cameran: I think its hard for Landon bc she was a typical Southern stereotype of the woman who got married young and was taken care of and she doesnt have that anymore.

Wait, how is this the first Im hearing of this failed first marriage? How has this NEVER come up before this season??

Cameran: So any man prospects? Landon: IDK not really its kind of sad and pathetic.

Landon is like Same tho. Cameran: Do you think the reason youre not meeting anyone is because you want something to work out with Shep? Landon:…Yeah

Cameran and I are both like, FINALLY!

*Cue a montage of them looking really couple-y* I’m rooting for you guys!

Landon brings up every middle schoolers dilemma which is that if she dates Shep, then shell lose him as a friend. Can we get like, a violin quartet to score some melodramatic music or something?

Craig and Shep make it to L.A. and Whitneys bachelor pad is sick. I guess this is what that Bravo money gets you. On an unrelated note, I have a very compelling idea for a new reality show, if you wanna get on board Bravo, Ill get you in at the ground level.

Craig: I wouldve had FOMO if I hadnt gotten to come out heresothanks.

Whitney: Meh whatevs

Whitney: #NewCraig has taken on this persona thats like, not chill dude.

Whitney basically lets it go with the caveat that he may never fully trust Craig again. Eh, Im sure theyll be fine.

Shep: You know when youre perfectly drunk and youre really good at pool? Is that like when Im really drunk and I think Im really good at dancing?

Classic Shmosby.

Larissa crashes the boys weekend which is not at all chill. Larissa is, I guess, the WGG of the group.

Shep: Should I change? I dont want to look all fratty and Southern.

Well that ship sailed like, approximately 36 years ago. Whitney makes a joke about waking up in the morning covered in blood and vomit. Was he secretly with me and my friends this weekend? Unclear. V. possible.

These two slutty-looking blondes show up and Shep is in fucking heaven. Craig low-key wants to kill himself.

Whitney: The goofy, disarming thing works in Charleston but not so much in L.A.

I’m sorry, Whitney, but who you callin goofy? You’re not exactly a chiseled Greek god over there. Whitney takes a casual shot at Craigs bourbon knowledge, or lack thereof, and now that hes gotten that off his chest this friendship is back on track.

The aftermath of Whitneys party looks a lot like the scene I dealt with Sunday morning. So, like, maybe they really were there.

Whitney: The marker of a good boys weekend is a pool of vomit with a partially digested meatball in the middle.

Whitney talks about how Shep didnt get any last night and Whitney said he had a meeting with Hand Solo which made me LOL.

Sheps like, and Im getting soooo mf sick of this trope. I am convinced Shep just acts this way because y’all expect him to be a fuckboy and nobody challenges him or holds him to a higher standard. Also, there’s just no way his dick games that good. THERE IS NO WAY.

JD is on the phone with Paula and SURPRISE, Craig basically didnt do shit for this festival yet still wants to be head of the bourbon division. The entitlement is strong with this one. Craigs phone is dead, party casualty, so JD is calling around to all Craigs friends like the angry dad he is. Did I mention this was dumb af, Craig?

Also, LMAO at how hungover they all look. Their hangovers are giving me life.

Craig: I just feel like Im being used to do all the bitchwork and its annoying. I lied, THIS is the whitest thing to happen on this show.

Shep: People take work too seriously. What happened to just drinking beer and laughing your balls off?

Yeah Shep, I think this may be why your restaurant is struggling to pay the rent.

Thomas and Kathryn are discussing the ins and outs of labor, which I will file away for future knowledge. Thomas calls Kathryn an expert at giving birth which is like, kind of rude lol. But I guess also accurate?

Kathryns opening up to Thomas about being alone this time around, looking up at him with big doe eyes, and Thomas is like,SHUT DOWN.

Thomas: The timing is really bad for me, could you just like, not give birth rn?

Kathryn: Thats why I like having you around, youre like a calming presence IDK why.

Kathryn, do you know what calming means? Im starting to think not.

Back at Whitneys, some massage therapist named Megan shows up, and Shep clearly has a boner.

Shep: So youre gonna give us all massages now?

Megan: Its like holding space to really connect more with yourself.

Shep is blatantly sexually harassing this poor girl. JFC. This is so creepy. Tone it the fuck down.

JD & Co. is launching his bourbon line at Charleston Cup, this horse race in Charleston. Craig is nowhere to be found, shockingly.

JD: Work isnt all roses and cherries. Sometimes its dirt and trenches.

Im putting that on a needlepoint for my office.

Sheps not going because his grandpa died. OK thats actually like, very sad. My condolences.

We will now resume with our regularly scheduled program of shit-talking.

Craig is taking forever to get readyCraig and Chad from are both the secret Betches interns.

Craig is hungover with an upset stomach and a sinus infection, which is literally what happens to me every time I drink. AKA right now. We’ll get through this, Craig. Emergen-c and green tea all mf day.

Cams like,

Craig apparently slept in and didnt do anything to help JD set up. Which, Im not surprised by, but again, is a really bad move for when youre trying to show initiative.

Cameran: #NewCraig is starting to run its course because at this point hes becoming #OldCraig

Dannis dropping some random whiskey fun facts and Craig is like, Fuck the bourbon division, Im not sure Craig is qualified to have any job at Gentry HQ, PERIOD. How the fuck is he going to be a lawyer if he never wants to do work? He’s gonna have a rude awakening if he ever makes it to first-year associate (I have heard).

Craig is there for all of two minutes and is already like, fuck this Im leaving.

Oh JK Craig didnt actually leave. JD gives a speech and what do you wanna bet Craig is gonna get shafted in this thank-you speech?

Wait for it..

BOOM. SHAFTED. I called it.

Cameran is so into this race its scary. How much money did she put down on that horse? Judging by her reaction to losing, Id say a lot.

Once again JD is dressed like a 1920s fat cat. Live your truth, JD.

JDs like, and Craig is like,

JD: Do you think you should have gone out of town? Craig: I mean Ive never had to give up a trip for a job so

Oh boy, Craig. I fear for you in the real world. I really do.

At Kathryns, she and Thomas are eating dinner. Kathryns going into labor tomorrow morning. I hope they dont actually film her birth. That would be kind of fucked.

Thomas: I want to have a traditional family, hear the shnookums running around, hear the house fill with laughter.

Lol, “shnookums” only makes me think of one thing:

Thomas: I still love Kathryn, I care about her but Im afraid a day of reckoning is forthcoming.

UH OH.

Kathryn asks Thomas how he feels and he says hes apprehensive and shes like, BRUH, FEEL APPREHENSIVE?!

Kathryn: If I say anything mean to you tomorrow just give me a free pass.

OK thats fair, she is giving birth and all.

Kathryn gets up and eats some generic brand Lucky Charms before giving birth. I take it all back, she really is struggling with money.

OK low blow. Sorry. Kind of.

Seeing the sheer amount of diapers in Kathryns house is enough to make me never forget to take my birth control.

Thomas: For some reason, maybe through divine intervention we were brought together. Steven Spielberg I believe said, Ive made a lot of movies, but my greatest creation of all was a child.

So I wonder at what point Thomas is gonna be like Who am I kidding, theyre gonna drag that out at least over the course of another epsiode.

OK enough shit-talking from me. That baby is cute. What did they name him?? How they gonna leave us hanging like that?

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/southern-charm-recap-can-they-get-any-more-white/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/171944066947