put your shirt back on

Deriving the Prime by rageprufrock
Fandom: House
Pairing: Gregory House/James Wilson/Lisa Cuddy
Summary: Two is the wrong prime number.

So, I drank a cup of black coffee at 9PM last night and I have yet to actually come down from it and I feel finally being able to afford/take my meds has something to do with that and my job is giving me an ulcer, but bitch-tastic threesomes go a long way in making everything all better.

Yeah, so school and Dragon Age: Origins.

I definitely just had a gay love affair with the elf in my group and even I was surprised by the fact that, yep, their clothes are off and that is actually happening on my screen. In stereo.

I just. Woah.

AND I PLAY BL GAMES, YOU GUYS, WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN.

Also:

(IF YOU DO NOT WATCH THIS IN HD, YOU HAVE NO SOUL.)





WAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNT.

Between Dragon*Con, Mardi Gras, and this, I WILL HAVE NO MONIES THIS YEAR. :( & :D

Oh my fucking god.

I drove back from St. George last night, taking a route my father recommended. He failed to mention that the route was like something out of every slasher movie, ever. Empty two-lane roads, cemeteries, deserted hospitals, thick banks of fog, crossroads, and a full moon. Geez.

It doesn't help that it was a four hour trip with a tornado warning in effect for our school's county. It was raining hard and we were maybe twenty minutes out when the cops inexplicably closed the goddamn interstate, which led to more backroads shenanigans, oh boy. And then my car window fucked itself, again.

We arrived intact, and I took the time to unfuck my car before rain/vagrants could get in and steal my shit, and then I sat down to work on a lab report until 5 in the goddamn morning.

I got up at 10 for my class, and learned that I systematically raped our last test. Go me.

However, I have a four hour lab today with the Lab Partner from Hell, three hours of sleep under my belt, and an all-staff meeting tonight, and I think I'm going to die.

However, Tom Hardy and Chris Fine are clearly fucking, so there is that.

This, guys, is what subtext looks like:



Because, damn.

I put on my faux-British accent and pointy wizard hat and LET'S TALK ABOUT GAY FOOTBALLERS.

CONCLUSION: THEY MAKE 'EM A LOT GAYER IN BARCELONA. JUST SAYIN.

ONTD, DON'T EVER LEAVE ME. ::clings::