Shit!fic Review, y'all
Author: addicted-mb
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairings: Emily Prentiss/Jennifer Jareau
Ratings: K
Disclaimers: Criminal Minds is not owned by me.
Authors Notes: Hmm...ok! Here's the next chapter of this. I'm not entirely happy with this, but I thought I'd post it anyway. Let me know what you think. I'll be posting some updates on the other ones soon.
***
Look, we’re not happy about it either as long as we’re being totally honest. I haven’t read it yet, but I am willing to wager my reputation that this author has not made a conscious effort to improve after I’ve reviewed her last two stories. In fact, fuck it, I’m not doing a shit!fic review anymore. I’m just going to review everything this author writes. Geez.
Emily moaned as she woke to the phone ringing. Twisting over, she clumsily grabbed it.
Answering the phone with her normal one-liner, “Prentiss,” she heard laughter at the other end.
“I knew it!”
“Garcia,” moaned Emily opening one eye to check the time, “why are you calling me on a Saturday early? What the hell?”
“Actually, I was calling JJ this bright and early Saturday morning.”
“Huh?!?”
Choose a punctuation mark. Punctuation marks are not your personal bitches, they were created to indicate structure and organization in writing and language. Each mark in punctuation serves a very clear purpose. There is only one instance when multiple punctuation marks are acceptable. That is the ellipsis, or the three periods to indicate a pause in speech or perhaps unfinished statement. And if you note, most word processors actually treat it as a single mark of punctuation. Don’t believe me? Try it.
I can hear the protest now. “This orgy of punctuation marks serves a purpose! The series, question mark, exclamation mark, question mark, is used to denote incredulity and confusion. It makes sense.”
To which, I reply with an emphatic, “No, bitch.” (Please note the use of a single period.)
If you want to show us Emily’s confusion or incredulity, use words. The talent of a writer is to paint a picture with words, to make us see and feel your story with words. You’re a writer, not a punctuator.
It took a few seconds before Garcia’s words sank in.
“Oh shit!”
Garcia laughed down the line.
Expression fail.
Emily, who was now fully awake, opened her eyes and peaked over at a dead-to-the-world blonde haired beauty, naked next to her. She peaked down under the sheets, at her own body and noticed the lack of clothes also on her.
“Em, hon?”
“Sorry Garcia! I totally forgot about last night!”
Maybe this is just me, but if I had spent the previous night shagging the fake blond out of JJ’s hair, I would remember it. And I am sorry but I cannot remember the last time I had to CHECK to see if I was naked. If I can’t remember, I can sure as hell feel the clothing on my body. And again, perhaps this is just me, but I don’t ever forget having sex the next morning. I usually wake up thinking, “Holy Christ, I pounded the creases out them delicate folds last night!”
And another note, “peaked” is what Emily and JJ allegedly did the previous night.
“Mmm, well I’m guessing our lovely liaison is yet to open her eyes this morning either? Leave her be, but I’m expecting the full details later on. How about we catch up for a late lunch and you both can fill me in on the details? Around 2, Nosh Cafe. See you then, chickadee!”
“Garc-,” before she could finish the blonde had hung up the phone, before she could knock back the catch up.
It just creeps me out that Garcia wants to know all the sordid details of JJ and Emily’s little sexcapade. She just seems overly interested. Calling early in the morning to find out if they made sweet liaison loving, then arranging a lunch date with the couple for details? Just seems unseemly.
And the “knock back the catch up” line confused me for five minutes while trying to figure out whether it was another expression fail or some British expression I wasn’t familiar with. By the time I deciphered the writer’s intent, I lost whatever interest I had.
Sighing, she looked over at the blonde in her bed and smiled at the soft rise and fall of her chest.
God, she is amazing!
Emily settled back down and it was not long before she fell asleep once more.
***
A couple of hours later, Emily awoke to blue eyes staring at her.
"Good Morning, Agent Prentiss!"
She smiled at the blonde as lips met hers.
"Good Morning."
"Did I hear a phone go off or was I dreaming?"
Emily pecked at JJ's lips before responding, "Yep! And I accidentally answered your phone thinking it was mine!"
Okay, I don’t usually touch on this next little issue because it seems so nitpicky to do so. But I’m going to cross the line. Fuck it, I’ve already crossed the line and built my house over there.
Voice. Part of what makes fan fiction good to me is a writer’s ability to capture the character’s voice. Not just characterization, but their voice. This, to me at least, doesn’t sound like Emily.
It’s like Horatio Caine squealing, “Oh my god, you guys! Did you see that kitten? It was so oh my fucking squee adorable! Hold my sunglasses while I give this little cuddle-fluff some H-love. Such a sweet kitty kitty, yes you are!”
Or better yet, Hotch saying, “What are y’all talking about? I loved the Twilight series. Those sparkly vampires really did it for me.”
Fan-fiction is working within the limits of already established characters and storylines, the limits can be pushed but not broken. Or else it blows.
Point in case.
JJ let out a gasp, "What? Who answered? Not Hotch?"
Seeing the blonde was beginning to stress, Emily rubbed her arms.
I’m picturing some high-grade arm rubbing like in the snuggie commercials. Oh… yeah… just like that.
"It’s fine! It was Garcia checking up on us!"
She hit Emily on her backside playfully.
"Oi. What was that for?" Emily cried out rubbing her backside.
"You know exactly what that was for!"
"I'm not into kink or S & M, Jennifer...." Emily smirked as she saw JJ roll her eyes at her.
A swat on the ass is about exotic as toasting your bread in a toaster. A single swat does not S&M make. And actually, I’m kind of offended that the author lumps a playful slap on the ass in the category of “kink.”
There are no professional dominatrix’s dressed all in black vinyl or latex giving a bound submissive a single swat on the ass with their hand and the sub going “Whoa, buddy! Safeword! You’re pushing my limits here!”
Giving your lover’s ass a love swat is hardly even all that sexual. It’s just a way of saying “I appreciate your rather shapely and attractive posterior region.” Or “Your talent for cunnilingus is above average.” Or “Thanks for doing the dishes.” Or “I love you, woman.” Or “I adore you even though you answered my cell phone and now our coworker knows we’re fucking.”
Multiple swats delivered with the intention of sexual arousal is, at best, mildly kinky. Crops, whips, floggers, paddles, kurts… that’s kinky.
If a single love pat falls into the realm of S&M for you, then I’m guessing that you are not even “vanilla.” Your sexual flavor is more like… virgin. Mmm… the sweet flavor of cherry.
Emily twisted over and pecked at Jennifer as she got out of the bed.
Emily twisted over and channeled her inner chicken and began pecking at JJ for grubs or other food morsels.
"Coffee?"
JJ smiled affectionately at the brunette, "Do you really need to ask?"
Smirking again, Emily retorted, "Yes, it wasn't really a question but more of a statement. Two coffees coming up! Oh, and Garcia is meeting us for brunch!"
Damn you! It was a question, as was clearly indicated by your use of a question mark. Had it been a declarative statement, it would have been a period.
JJ sighed as the brunette headed out the door.
Last night was fun and she wanted nothing more than to be with Emily, but rather than enjoying the newness of their relationship with no one to worry about but themselves, they were about to endeavour on much more than that.
What relationship? So far, the couple has fucked. Sex does not a relationship make, no matter what the lesbian majority thinks.
Yes Garcia brought them together, but being in the public and being open to the team, their family, was a whole different story.
JJ closed her eyes to block the thoughts out and relish the alone time with Emily a little longer.
****
As the aroma of fresh, nutty and chocolate brew filled the air, JJ opened her eyes immediately to the hand in front of her eagerly accepting the caffeine.
What kind of coffee are they friggin’ drinking? I want to know. Maybe it is just the way the author chooses to describe it, but I’m not thinking coffee. I’m thinking Almond Joy.
"Oh, thanks Em! You certainly know the way to a girl’s heart!"
Emily grinned at the response.
Silence hit the room, as both girls savoured the hit of caffeine into their system.
As silence hit the story, I savored the smack of FAIL in this fic. When you do a hit of anything, traditionally you take out a credit card, cut it into a line, and then using a rolled dollar bill (or a trimmed Jack-in-the-Box straw, because they’re a little thicker than an average straw) you snort aforementioned hit. Or you take the hit that’s been dropped onto a small square of paper by a dealer named Pater and let it dissolve on your tongue. Not that I would know.
But caffeine is usually consumed in a liquid fashion, usually orally in the form of “drinking.” It’s coffee, for chrissake, not cocaine.
"Wow, you make a good coffee! Maybe I should come here more often!"
"Well, I won't be disappointed with that. You are welcome to stay over any time you like. Last night....". Emily wandered off dreamily.
JJ smiled before taking another sip and frowning.
Emily reached earth once again and noticed the frown on the blonde's face, "Jayj?"
She looked up at Emily, "Hmm?"
"What's the matter?" she rubbed the blondes shoulder awaiting a response.
JJ collected her thoughts before responding, "I, I loved this...us."
This is going eerily down the unpaved road of lesbian treachery. They’ve had a “date.” Because sex qualifies as a date in the lesbian world. So it really is about time to drop the “love-bomb” and start booking that u-Haul for the second date.
It was Emily’s turn to frown.
I hope she's not regretting last night.
JJ grabbed Emily's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I'm just thinking about what is going to happen after this morning. After we head outside your doors and into the real world. The world where we catch killers, and, where we work with a family, a family that is not meant to have relations with each other."
Whooooa! West Virginia alert! No family is meant to have “relations” with one another. Way to stain the beautiful love between Emily and JJ with the shadow of incest. Bad touch!
Emily smiled and JJ returned a confused smile. "Sorry, the coffee definitely woke you up with a bang, hey?"
"Jayj, this," she grasped the blonde’s hand and lifted it up, "is so new! Ok, so Garcia knows, but I'm sure the boys have no idea. And, whilst I know how I really feel about you, us…I do think we need some time to just get comfortable with it a little more before any more of our family find out!"
Emily looked into blue eyes and saw what she knew was want and desire.
Blue eyes leaned forward and brought their lips together for a soft welcoming kiss before leaning back with closed eyes and a smile.
You know that Geico commercial with the money with the googly-eyes? That is what I am imagining here. Nothing but two big, blue eyes leaning in and pressing themselves to Emily’s lips. What the fuck here? How do blue eyes lean forward? And how the hell… oh just fuck it, I give up.
"Hmm well in that case, you may not be able to get rid of me from here! Wonderful company, great coffee...what more can a girl ask for?"
"Mmmm," Emily seductively leaning into the blonde and once she reached the girls lips she whispered,” how 'bout this?" Lips touched and mouths opened allowing tongues to explore and tussle with the other. The moment became very heated, quickly and Emily withdrew hearing a little whimper from the blonde.
Awww! How cute. They’s tongues is tusslin’. Like two slippery little hogs underneath a wet blanket.
Fuckin’ Christ.
She smiled at JJ and grabbed her hand. "As much as I'd like to continue this here, I do think we need to make a move to the bathroom. Otherwise, well never meet Garcia in time. I reckon we can continue this in the shower though."
****
"Finally! I thought you two lovebirds might have not been able to get yourself away from the bedroom, especially after last night’s disappearance!"
The two girls both blushed and looked down.
"Oh come on girls, we’re all grown ups here and, really, it's about time that you two acted on your feelings! So tell me, are we now a lovely couple or what? Have we seen the way?"
No, no, I beg to differ. There are no adults in this fic. I feel like I’m reading a high-school melodrama. “O.M.G. You had sex with Billy? Was he a good kisser? How was it? I so totally knew you two were going to get together! He’s been staring at you every day in history class!”
It’s sex, for crying out loud. It isn’t a shuttle launch. Hell, a decent percentage of the time, in real life, the launch is aborted. People do it all the time. I think my last significant relationship was announced to my brother in the form of a text that read, “Dude, I just banged a chick that looks just like Anne Hathaway.”
His response? “Bitch.”
Grown-ups don’t have brunches with their coworkers specifically to discuss the details of their sexual/personal lives. We don’t blush and act sheepish when we’re confronted with a new attachment or relationship. It’s just a part of life as surely as eating or driving or sleeping on the bathroom floor because you’ve got a stomach bug. It happens to all of us.
"Garcia!" JJ gasped, trying to recover her colour.
Emily grasped JJ’s hand and squeezed, not saying a word.
Eyes like a hawk, Garcia noticed the simple gesture and smiled knowingly. "Me thinks I might not be far off," waving her hands around as if she was gazing into a crystal ball.
"We’d appreciate it, if this would stay between us girls for now, Penelope," Emily responded.
"Of course my new awesome cute couple!" she clapped her hands excitedly at the prospect of being the first to know of the new event.
“So girls?” The quirky blonde grabbed her straw and took a sip watching two pairs of eyes on her.
“When are the wedding bells?” She grinned as they both sighed.
Jesus, Garcia. Way to encourage the U-haul tendency.
I cannot for the life of me figure out what the hell was the point of all this?
Maybe it is the overabundance of medication in my system, but after reading this, I’m still lost for a point. An abundance of crappy dialogue was the only thing pushing this little clusterfuck along. I’m guessing that this is one of those squee stories. “OMG, squee! It’s two of our characters in a lesbian relationship.” The plot was so bland and half-hearted that I received the impression that author could not be pressed for any sort of creativity.
And for fuck’s sake… could you show my punctuation marks a little respect, please? They have feelings too.
This is one of those stories which made me wish I had a penis solely for the purpose of putting out the eyes of suspected bad!fic writers and/or giving them a good meaty smack across the face. .
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairings: Emily Prentiss/Jennifer Jareau
Ratings: K
Disclaimers: Criminal Minds is not owned by me.
Authors Notes: Hmm...ok! Here's the next chapter of this. I'm not entirely happy with this, but I thought I'd post it anyway. Let me know what you think. I'll be posting some updates on the other ones soon.
***
Look, we’re not happy about it either as long as we’re being totally honest. I haven’t read it yet, but I am willing to wager my reputation that this author has not made a conscious effort to improve after I’ve reviewed her last two stories. In fact, fuck it, I’m not doing a shit!fic review anymore. I’m just going to review everything this author writes. Geez.
Emily moaned as she woke to the phone ringing. Twisting over, she clumsily grabbed it.
Answering the phone with her normal one-liner, “Prentiss,” she heard laughter at the other end.
“I knew it!”
“Garcia,” moaned Emily opening one eye to check the time, “why are you calling me on a Saturday early? What the hell?”
“Actually, I was calling JJ this bright and early Saturday morning.”
“Huh?!?”
Choose a punctuation mark. Punctuation marks are not your personal bitches, they were created to indicate structure and organization in writing and language. Each mark in punctuation serves a very clear purpose. There is only one instance when multiple punctuation marks are acceptable. That is the ellipsis, or the three periods to indicate a pause in speech or perhaps unfinished statement. And if you note, most word processors actually treat it as a single mark of punctuation. Don’t believe me? Try it.
I can hear the protest now. “This orgy of punctuation marks serves a purpose! The series, question mark, exclamation mark, question mark, is used to denote incredulity and confusion. It makes sense.”
To which, I reply with an emphatic, “No, bitch.” (Please note the use of a single period.)
If you want to show us Emily’s confusion or incredulity, use words. The talent of a writer is to paint a picture with words, to make us see and feel your story with words. You’re a writer, not a punctuator.
It took a few seconds before Garcia’s words sank in.
“Oh shit!”
Garcia laughed down the line.
Expression fail.
Emily, who was now fully awake, opened her eyes and peaked over at a dead-to-the-world blonde haired beauty, naked next to her. She peaked down under the sheets, at her own body and noticed the lack of clothes also on her.
“Em, hon?”
“Sorry Garcia! I totally forgot about last night!”
Maybe this is just me, but if I had spent the previous night shagging the fake blond out of JJ’s hair, I would remember it. And I am sorry but I cannot remember the last time I had to CHECK to see if I was naked. If I can’t remember, I can sure as hell feel the clothing on my body. And again, perhaps this is just me, but I don’t ever forget having sex the next morning. I usually wake up thinking, “Holy Christ, I pounded the creases out them delicate folds last night!”
And another note, “peaked” is what Emily and JJ allegedly did the previous night.
“Mmm, well I’m guessing our lovely liaison is yet to open her eyes this morning either? Leave her be, but I’m expecting the full details later on. How about we catch up for a late lunch and you both can fill me in on the details? Around 2, Nosh Cafe. See you then, chickadee!”
“Garc-,” before she could finish the blonde had hung up the phone, before she could knock back the catch up.
It just creeps me out that Garcia wants to know all the sordid details of JJ and Emily’s little sexcapade. She just seems overly interested. Calling early in the morning to find out if they made sweet liaison loving, then arranging a lunch date with the couple for details? Just seems unseemly.
And the “knock back the catch up” line confused me for five minutes while trying to figure out whether it was another expression fail or some British expression I wasn’t familiar with. By the time I deciphered the writer’s intent, I lost whatever interest I had.
Sighing, she looked over at the blonde in her bed and smiled at the soft rise and fall of her chest.
God, she is amazing!
Emily settled back down and it was not long before she fell asleep once more.
***
A couple of hours later, Emily awoke to blue eyes staring at her.
"Good Morning, Agent Prentiss!"
She smiled at the blonde as lips met hers.
"Good Morning."
"Did I hear a phone go off or was I dreaming?"
Emily pecked at JJ's lips before responding, "Yep! And I accidentally answered your phone thinking it was mine!"
Okay, I don’t usually touch on this next little issue because it seems so nitpicky to do so. But I’m going to cross the line. Fuck it, I’ve already crossed the line and built my house over there.
Voice. Part of what makes fan fiction good to me is a writer’s ability to capture the character’s voice. Not just characterization, but their voice. This, to me at least, doesn’t sound like Emily.
It’s like Horatio Caine squealing, “Oh my god, you guys! Did you see that kitten? It was so oh my fucking squee adorable! Hold my sunglasses while I give this little cuddle-fluff some H-love. Such a sweet kitty kitty, yes you are!”
Or better yet, Hotch saying, “What are y’all talking about? I loved the Twilight series. Those sparkly vampires really did it for me.”
Fan-fiction is working within the limits of already established characters and storylines, the limits can be pushed but not broken. Or else it blows.
Point in case.
JJ let out a gasp, "What? Who answered? Not Hotch?"
Seeing the blonde was beginning to stress, Emily rubbed her arms.
I’m picturing some high-grade arm rubbing like in the snuggie commercials. Oh… yeah… just like that.
"It’s fine! It was Garcia checking up on us!"
She hit Emily on her backside playfully.
"Oi. What was that for?" Emily cried out rubbing her backside.
"You know exactly what that was for!"
"I'm not into kink or S & M, Jennifer...." Emily smirked as she saw JJ roll her eyes at her.
A swat on the ass is about exotic as toasting your bread in a toaster. A single swat does not S&M make. And actually, I’m kind of offended that the author lumps a playful slap on the ass in the category of “kink.”
There are no professional dominatrix’s dressed all in black vinyl or latex giving a bound submissive a single swat on the ass with their hand and the sub going “Whoa, buddy! Safeword! You’re pushing my limits here!”
Giving your lover’s ass a love swat is hardly even all that sexual. It’s just a way of saying “I appreciate your rather shapely and attractive posterior region.” Or “Your talent for cunnilingus is above average.” Or “Thanks for doing the dishes.” Or “I love you, woman.” Or “I adore you even though you answered my cell phone and now our coworker knows we’re fucking.”
Multiple swats delivered with the intention of sexual arousal is, at best, mildly kinky. Crops, whips, floggers, paddles, kurts… that’s kinky.
If a single love pat falls into the realm of S&M for you, then I’m guessing that you are not even “vanilla.” Your sexual flavor is more like… virgin. Mmm… the sweet flavor of cherry.
Emily twisted over and pecked at Jennifer as she got out of the bed.
Emily twisted over and channeled her inner chicken and began pecking at JJ for grubs or other food morsels.
"Coffee?"
JJ smiled affectionately at the brunette, "Do you really need to ask?"
Smirking again, Emily retorted, "Yes, it wasn't really a question but more of a statement. Two coffees coming up! Oh, and Garcia is meeting us for brunch!"
Damn you! It was a question, as was clearly indicated by your use of a question mark. Had it been a declarative statement, it would have been a period.
JJ sighed as the brunette headed out the door.
Last night was fun and she wanted nothing more than to be with Emily, but rather than enjoying the newness of their relationship with no one to worry about but themselves, they were about to endeavour on much more than that.
What relationship? So far, the couple has fucked. Sex does not a relationship make, no matter what the lesbian majority thinks.
Yes Garcia brought them together, but being in the public and being open to the team, their family, was a whole different story.
JJ closed her eyes to block the thoughts out and relish the alone time with Emily a little longer.
****
As the aroma of fresh, nutty and chocolate brew filled the air, JJ opened her eyes immediately to the hand in front of her eagerly accepting the caffeine.
What kind of coffee are they friggin’ drinking? I want to know. Maybe it is just the way the author chooses to describe it, but I’m not thinking coffee. I’m thinking Almond Joy.
"Oh, thanks Em! You certainly know the way to a girl’s heart!"
Emily grinned at the response.
Silence hit the room, as both girls savoured the hit of caffeine into their system.
As silence hit the story, I savored the smack of FAIL in this fic. When you do a hit of anything, traditionally you take out a credit card, cut it into a line, and then using a rolled dollar bill (or a trimmed Jack-in-the-Box straw, because they’re a little thicker than an average straw) you snort aforementioned hit. Or you take the hit that’s been dropped onto a small square of paper by a dealer named Pater and let it dissolve on your tongue. Not that I would know.
But caffeine is usually consumed in a liquid fashion, usually orally in the form of “drinking.” It’s coffee, for chrissake, not cocaine.
"Wow, you make a good coffee! Maybe I should come here more often!"
"Well, I won't be disappointed with that. You are welcome to stay over any time you like. Last night....". Emily wandered off dreamily.
JJ smiled before taking another sip and frowning.
Emily reached earth once again and noticed the frown on the blonde's face, "Jayj?"
She looked up at Emily, "Hmm?"
"What's the matter?" she rubbed the blondes shoulder awaiting a response.
JJ collected her thoughts before responding, "I, I loved this...us."
This is going eerily down the unpaved road of lesbian treachery. They’ve had a “date.” Because sex qualifies as a date in the lesbian world. So it really is about time to drop the “love-bomb” and start booking that u-Haul for the second date.
It was Emily’s turn to frown.
I hope she's not regretting last night.
JJ grabbed Emily's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "I'm just thinking about what is going to happen after this morning. After we head outside your doors and into the real world. The world where we catch killers, and, where we work with a family, a family that is not meant to have relations with each other."
Whooooa! West Virginia alert! No family is meant to have “relations” with one another. Way to stain the beautiful love between Emily and JJ with the shadow of incest. Bad touch!
Emily smiled and JJ returned a confused smile. "Sorry, the coffee definitely woke you up with a bang, hey?"
"Jayj, this," she grasped the blonde’s hand and lifted it up, "is so new! Ok, so Garcia knows, but I'm sure the boys have no idea. And, whilst I know how I really feel about you, us…I do think we need some time to just get comfortable with it a little more before any more of our family find out!"
Emily looked into blue eyes and saw what she knew was want and desire.
Blue eyes leaned forward and brought their lips together for a soft welcoming kiss before leaning back with closed eyes and a smile.
You know that Geico commercial with the money with the googly-eyes? That is what I am imagining here. Nothing but two big, blue eyes leaning in and pressing themselves to Emily’s lips. What the fuck here? How do blue eyes lean forward? And how the hell… oh just fuck it, I give up.
"Hmm well in that case, you may not be able to get rid of me from here! Wonderful company, great coffee...what more can a girl ask for?"
"Mmmm," Emily seductively leaning into the blonde and once she reached the girls lips she whispered,” how 'bout this?" Lips touched and mouths opened allowing tongues to explore and tussle with the other. The moment became very heated, quickly and Emily withdrew hearing a little whimper from the blonde.
Awww! How cute. They’s tongues is tusslin’. Like two slippery little hogs underneath a wet blanket.
Fuckin’ Christ.
She smiled at JJ and grabbed her hand. "As much as I'd like to continue this here, I do think we need to make a move to the bathroom. Otherwise, well never meet Garcia in time. I reckon we can continue this in the shower though."
****
"Finally! I thought you two lovebirds might have not been able to get yourself away from the bedroom, especially after last night’s disappearance!"
The two girls both blushed and looked down.
"Oh come on girls, we’re all grown ups here and, really, it's about time that you two acted on your feelings! So tell me, are we now a lovely couple or what? Have we seen the way?"
No, no, I beg to differ. There are no adults in this fic. I feel like I’m reading a high-school melodrama. “O.M.G. You had sex with Billy? Was he a good kisser? How was it? I so totally knew you two were going to get together! He’s been staring at you every day in history class!”
It’s sex, for crying out loud. It isn’t a shuttle launch. Hell, a decent percentage of the time, in real life, the launch is aborted. People do it all the time. I think my last significant relationship was announced to my brother in the form of a text that read, “Dude, I just banged a chick that looks just like Anne Hathaway.”
His response? “Bitch.”
Grown-ups don’t have brunches with their coworkers specifically to discuss the details of their sexual/personal lives. We don’t blush and act sheepish when we’re confronted with a new attachment or relationship. It’s just a part of life as surely as eating or driving or sleeping on the bathroom floor because you’ve got a stomach bug. It happens to all of us.
"Garcia!" JJ gasped, trying to recover her colour.
Emily grasped JJ’s hand and squeezed, not saying a word.
Eyes like a hawk, Garcia noticed the simple gesture and smiled knowingly. "Me thinks I might not be far off," waving her hands around as if she was gazing into a crystal ball.
"We’d appreciate it, if this would stay between us girls for now, Penelope," Emily responded.
"Of course my new awesome cute couple!" she clapped her hands excitedly at the prospect of being the first to know of the new event.
“So girls?” The quirky blonde grabbed her straw and took a sip watching two pairs of eyes on her.
“When are the wedding bells?” She grinned as they both sighed.
Jesus, Garcia. Way to encourage the U-haul tendency.
I cannot for the life of me figure out what the hell was the point of all this?
Maybe it is the overabundance of medication in my system, but after reading this, I’m still lost for a point. An abundance of crappy dialogue was the only thing pushing this little clusterfuck along. I’m guessing that this is one of those squee stories. “OMG, squee! It’s two of our characters in a lesbian relationship.” The plot was so bland and half-hearted that I received the impression that author could not be pressed for any sort of creativity.
And for fuck’s sake… could you show my punctuation marks a little respect, please? They have feelings too.
This is one of those stories which made me wish I had a penis solely for the purpose of putting out the eyes of suspected bad!fic writers and/or giving them a good meaty smack across the face. .