#GIMME THE FUCKING SUITED VADER

[burntblueberrywaffles]

Heartbreaking: this post ROTS fanfic has all the tropes you’re looking for, but they made Vader suitless

#i mena I’ll probably still read it but!!!!! #unless!!! it’s an au!!!! where Mustafar didn’t happen!!!! #GIMME THE FUCKING SUITED VADER #it’s such an integral part of his character why are you taking it away GIVE ME THE SUIT #star wars #darth vader #anakin skywalker #vaderdala #vaderkin #burntblueberrywaffles

[erratic-erotica]

Hard Night: The Penising

‘Kay, so.

I don’t, historically, do the tamblr thing. But I’mma try it out anyway, because why the fuck not, right? Also because my friend, Fry, literally made a tumblr for me because I am a luddite and also a tiny frightened baby bird. But Fry shoved me out of the nest with a loving, “FLY, BITCH” and so here I am.

You don’t care about me, and that’s fine. But let me tell you a quick story before I kick things off here.

So my boyfriend (hereafter referred to as Boyfrienddicks) came home the other day from his work at a hotel. He brought with him a large sack, and dropped it on the bed, and said, “You like to read, right?”

BOY HOWDY, DO I EVER.

Boyfrienddicks continued, “So there’s this ladies’ readers group that meets at my hotel every so often, and tonight they dropped off a couple of sacks of books at the front desk. So I grabbed a sack and brought it home for you.”

As you might imagine, I was rubbing my little hands together in absolute glee, because it was shaping up to be the best day of my life. FREE BOOKS?! HELL THE FUCK YEAH, SIGN ME UP. THOSE MOTHERFUCKERS ARE EXPENSIVE.

So I did my gimme-gimme hands and he kindly passed me the sack, at which point I simply shoved my hands into it, the better to fondle my new treasures. With no small amount of glee, I lifted the first one from the confines of the sack and held it up into the light like Simba on Pride Rock.

And then I faltered.

“This is smut,” I said aloud, somewhat feebly.

“What?” asked Boyfrienddicks.

“Smut,” I said, flipping the book around to show him the nearly-naked dude on the cover. “Sssssmut. Ladyboner material. Trashy romance novels.”

“Oh,” he said. “Is…is that one called Hard Night?”

“It sure is,” I replied.

He cackled for a solid minute and then insisted I read it and tell him about it.

So I did.

Anyway, Fry (and others) were amused by the prospect of reading Random Smut That Totally Didn’t Fall Off the Back of a Truck or Anything, so Fry helpfully created this…I don’t know what you call it, tumblr group? For the reading and reviewing of – not carefully selected and deliberately chosen romance novels, but literally whatever random romances we can find.

Anyway, that’s all I have to say about that. Take from it what you will. Or don’t. It’s no skin off my nose.

Here’s my review of Hard Night, by Jackie Ashenden. I want to preface this by saying that it took me two whole days to finish this book because I did not want to finish this book. And not in the “I wish this would never end” sense, but rather in the “I wish I had never started this” sense.

JUST LOOK AT THIS. DISCRETION. SKILLS. SECRETS.

Hard Night starts off with our (ostensible) hero, Jacob Night, looming over our ill-fated heroine, Faith Beasley (aka Joanna Lynn), as she lies in her hospital bed, unconscious and emaciated.

She’s the only key to reuniting with his long-lost brother, because of course she is. And she’s also probably his brother’s lover. Or something. But he found her too late, and now she’s clearly been roughed up, and, as a result, has developed amnesia. Because of course she has.

What’s a fella to do with that, except to claim he’s her cousin and take her home to live with him, which, miraculously, absolutely no one questions. Did I mention he’s the one who told everyone her name is Faith Beasley? Because he did, and it’s not her name. Sergeant Doucheyacht literally took it upon himself to name this poor lady.

Anyway, not even “Faith” questions this miraculous turn of events, which is good for the plot, but bad for anyone in real life. DO NOT GO HOME WITH STRANGERS WHO DEFINITELY CANNOT PROVE THEY KNOW YOU OR THAT YOU ARE IN ANY WAY RELATED. That’s just some solid life advice from your friendly Vodka Aunt Dragondicks.

Captain Dudebro also helpfully gives her a job doing things and they rub along relatively smoothly together, despite both being tightasses of the highest caliber. Also despite the roiling sexual tension, since Jacob is constantly thinking of how awesome “Faith’s” ass looks in her tight pencil-skirts.

But he would never act on those impulses, of course.

Until one day, for no reason in particular that I have been able to ascertain, someone starts shooting at them. So off they run from sunny San Diego, all the way up the Pacific North West, where they hide out for a bit in Major Dickhead’s convenient bunker.

They spend about a day there before Jacob startles Faith in her sleep, and she just fuckin’ flips him and lays him out. Which, you know, cool. I like strong heroines as much as the next person.

So Genius McSmartypants deduces she’s probably Special Ops, just like he was before his mercenary days, and he’s like, ‘Hey. I like strong women.’ But also he’s a douche about it because he’s also like HEY BITCH YOUR REAL NAME’S JOANNA AND YOU HAVE TO REMEMBER THAT NOW TO SUIT MY PURPOSES. BECAUSE I NEED THAT INFORMATION IN YOUR HEAD.

Dick. But I digress.

So now it’s combat training time, because maybe that’ll jog loose some memories (that Joanna/Faith clearly doesn’t want to remember). And of course, Dickheads gonna Dickhead. Somehow, fighting mysteriously turns into fucking. Fightfucking. Fuckfighting? I don’t fucking know, but there’s a lot of it in this book. Like, we took a fifty-goddamn-page fuck-break on page 86.

Eventually, however, it appears that our Noble Author realized, “Oh, shit, wait, this was actually supposed to have a plot, too.”

And the story continues. Faith remembers she’s really Joanna. And that she sort of also shot General ConstantBoner’s long-lost brother, Josh. And that she’s a Secret Badass. Also that she was never romantically involved with Josh, which is good news for Rear Admiral Knobjockey, who probably does not want to become Eskimo bros with his actual bro. Probably.

But that’s not important because we have more penising to get to.

Of course, Jacob confesses to a Tragic Past: a parade of foster homes that he was subjected to because he stabbed his pseudo-stepfather for molesting his younger twin brother, whom he really, really wants to reunite with.

Anyway, eventually Faith/Joanna realizes that telling Lieutenant Arsebarge that she totes shot his brother is probs gonna go down like a lead balloon, so she fucks off back to San Diego, because it totally makes a fuckload of sense to head right back to the same city where you got fucking shot at just a couple of days ago.

Of course, Corporal Fuckwad catches up with her in a motel, because he’s somehow GPS tagged her clothing. How? Don’t ask me. I don’t fucking know. It’s explained as “new technology.”

Anyway, more fuckfighting (fightfucking?) ensues. This time, with spanking! Scandalous! Faith also confesses to shooting his brother, because bro was part of her Special Ops team and he betrayed them for money, or whatever. To which Jacob replies something like, “Meh.”

Commandant Thundercunt realizes that they’ve been found out – there’s a car stationed right outside their motel, and this is clearly bad news. But Faith is just like, “Hey, you know what? I bet I could offer myself up as bait to those guys who have already tried to kill me. They might have info on your brother who might not actually be dead, idk.”

Of course, Colonel Fucknuts is having none of that. But she cold-cocks him and goes anyway, so it’s whatever.

But surprise surprise! Jacob’s little bro was actually the Evil Twin all along! Because he’s there with the real bad guy, whose name I disremember because I was pretty checked out by this point, not gonna lie. Started with an F. Pretty sure.

Anyway, of course Warrant Officer Fucktrumpet Supreme turns up to rescue his lady, and for reasons, Evil Twin helps them escape. Go team!

But Brigadier General Fuckface has just enough time left in the book to have a Crisis of Conscience! He is just no good for Faith! He’s a Bad Man! He has done Bad Things! He doesn’t deserve the Love of a Good Woman!

Faith, of course, drowns her sorrows in whiskey for a couple of hours before one of Chief Petty Officer First Class Bumblefuck’s friends (yes, incredibly, this man has friends) shows up to be like, “Hey. He is actually a Good Guy. I know because I know many things. You should totally just hop right back up on his dick.”

And Faith is like, “Time to get my man back,” or some shit. So off she goes, to confront Ensign Twatwaffle in his natural habitat. He’s taken aback, of course, but powerless to resist her charms (and vagina, presumably). There is more fuckfighting, and probably spanking, and then there’s THE END.

Did I mention this book was dedicated to Darth Vader, because of the author’s love of “dark heroes”? I don’t think that means what she thinks it means.

I AM NOT EVEN SHITTING YOU.

Remember, kids. I read it – so you don’t have to.

Love,

DD

#romance novel