lifebeginsatarousal

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Like, the crux of House and Wilson’s relationship for Wilson is that Wilson is somewhat preforming kindness and empathy, and around House he doesn’t have to. He can be fucked up and a little weird, and play increasingly destructive pranks. He can fight with house, and punch him in the face and ask him to dinner a second later and he doesn’t have to preform normality because there is genuinely nothing he can do to ruin this friendship.

And the crux of House and Wilson’s relationship for House is that Wilson see past House’s bs and sees the sliver kindness in House’s heart, the one house keeps hidden away deep under layers of sarcasm and insults. It’s not all the time, as house still gets defensive when Wilson says something that hits a “sore spot”, but House is still kinder with Wilson than he is with anyone else, he shares his fears with Wilson, and makes sacrifices to make him happy. He doesn’t have to preform his “asshole persona” because Wilson’s the only safe person to be venerable with.

This is why they need each other, because they have to preform with everyone else, and they always end up back together because we all need someone we can be authentic with, and it’s why they’re so lonely without each other.

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A bit of a pallet cleanser for everyone.

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alternatives to "ladies and gentlemen"

cads and wastrels

fellow scoundrels

ladies, gentlemen, and interesting miscellanea

beloved friends & tolerated acquaintances

entities of interest

paying audience members & assorted freeloaders

the fbi's most and least wanted

discerning guests & those of you with fuck all else to do on a tuesday evening

esteemed gutter filth

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Did I just employ the "Treat Them Like You are A Kindergarten Teacher Again" method with my insurance company today? I surely did. Did it work? Probably better than intended because I made an actual doctor feel contrite.

So, my insurance has been trying to not cover my SNRI because it is new on the market and no generic available yet, so pricey.

I apply for a refill and the request gets locked for review. Again. For the 3rd time.

This time I call and immediately ask to speak to the actual doctor making these clinical decisions. Very politely. Must be a slow day because they allow it.

ME: [Teacher voice] I'm calling in regards to the SNRI you have placed a lock on. Why was this decision made?

DOC: Well, there are dozens of other medications on the market in that tier, and far cheaper for you and [insurer]. We have sent a request to your doctor to consider alternatives.

ME: I am aware of that. So, can you do me a HUGE favor and look up my prescription history really quickly and tell me how many SSRIs and SNRIs were only filled once in 2022 for me, showing they were poorly tolerated?

DOC: It looks like eight.

ME: Great job! Now, can you please look at my genetic test for psychiatric drug tolerance and tell me how many medications are listed in the safe category?

DOC: Two.

ME: Awesome! Now, can you tell me what type that other drug is that I'm not taking?

DOC: Yeah, totally, it's an MAOI.

ME: That's correct, you're really knowledgeable! Should I be taking something as dangerous as an MAOI with my other medications, or even just in general?

DOC: It's contraindicated for sure.

ME: It is! So true! So, last question since you've been incredibly smart and helpful. Is it less expensive for [insurer] to pay out for the medication knowing they already get a huge manufacturer discount anyway, or is it more expensive for them to pay for me to need potentially long-term inpatient psychiatric care?

DOC: I'll clear the code, ma'am and flag it as medically necessary. I'm sorry about this.

ME: I appreciate you SO MUCH. You have a great day now.

WALGREENS PHARMACY TECH WITH 5 NOSE RINGS AND PURPLE HAIR STARING AT ME: ........... OKAY! It'll be ready in five minutes. You wanna come work here?

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Hot take: Westley is way too dramatic and Extra ™ to not be bisexual.

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The worst thing I ever did at a D&D table was when our DM ran out of place name ideas and told us the name of the port town we needed to go to was "Bar Harbor".

So I tricked him into roleplaying the slightly-too-helpful town guard into giving us directions to- Well you see, the party has been out in the wilderness for like a MONTH, we're all a mess, the dwarf's beard is out of control, so can you tell us- Where can we find the Bar Harbor Barber?

But we were not done. We each took turns, like a pack of velociraptors.

We also had Dryad in the party and a few of her branches got broken in a fight and now her whole canopy is unbalanced and it looks awful, but she really needs to see a specialist, is there a Bar Harbor Arbor Barber?

The Paladin also wanted to look in on a small church he'd heard of, that the city had a patron saint, who was boiled alive in a cauldron of ale, so where is the temple of the Bar Harbor Larger Martyr?

It was around this point that Chris started to tire of this nonsense.

The bard, naturally, wanted to go carousing, and he'd heard this town had some of the most attentive and welcoming Ladies of the Night on the continent, known by thier brightly colored stocking bands, so had he seen any of the Bar harbor Ardor Parlor Farber Garters?

Chris immediately escalated to threats of a Total Party Kill.

Unfortunately, I'd had time to prepare and-

"What do you want?"

"I just wanted to know if you'd seen my cousin."

"...Your cousin?"

"Yeah, I know it's a long shot, but he's got a pretty distinctive appearence and you might have seen him around town."

"Oh No-"

"Okay so he's Welsh and the whole family used to be in the wagon-making business but he got into clothes manufacture until there was an accident with a lamp black dye and now he's permanently stained a sooty color and that really turns heads, so now he's got a job drawing in crowds for the city funded swap meet- no, not the Drow that also works there, I mean like the inside of a fireplace- anyway, he got tired of people mixing the two of them up so he started wearing this fancy armor with a magical +1 charisma bonus-"

"Gallus I swear to God I *WILL* Summon the Tarraqsue-"

"-So have you seen my cousin, Arthur Carter, former Sartor but now he's the Darker Harker for the Charter Barter of Bar Harbor, the one with the Charmer Armor?"

Amazingly, we survived the Tarrasque.

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*white knuckling the bathroom sink* do NOT infodump ppl about the fact that the first spn fic was a wincest one and that it was posted mere hours after the pilot and that the founder of ao3 was a wincestie and that the first fic on ao3 was wincest too and that the omegaverse as we know it was created by wincest shippers for jared/jensen fics *pointing at myself in the mirror with a shaky hand* ppl will think you're weird and off-putting you need to control yourself–

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*kills you & resurrects u* *kills you & resurrects u* *kills you & resurrects u* *kills you & re

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(me, my parents, my sister, and the baby are sitting at the kitchen table eating lunch)

baby, pointing at the light fixture over the table and signing "on": o.*

my sister: we actually can't turn that light on right now, because the lightbulb inside is burnt out! it needs a new one.

baby: ighbu.

sister: yes, lightbulb! granddaddy said after we eat he's going to climb up there on a ladder and change it, and then the light will come on!

baby: gadada! adda, uuu! ighbu o!

sister: exactly!

baby, signing "on" and pointing at the light and then my dad, with increasing urgency: GADADA ADDA UUUU. O.

my sister: we're going to finish eating first though, ok?

baby: nonono. O. gadada adda uuu.

[a split second goes by]

baby, pointing to himself: ba. adda uuu. ighbu.

me: you're going to climb the ladder and change the lightbulb yourself?

baby: dzyeah. *pointing to the buckle where he is buckled into the high chair* ububu.

me: unbuckle you? so you can change the lightbulb?

baby, highly businesslike: dzyeah.

*pronounced like "on" without the n

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Two-year-old Albert Apsassin feeling the spirit at National Indigenous Peoples Day in Camrose, Alberta.

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Blind people must save a lot on electricity.

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The intimacy of getting to know someone’s kinks and slowly but surely slipping them into conversation~

Slipping them that extra little “good job” after basic tasks and watching their cheeks get hot and their eyes dart around the room.

Asking them to grab a drink and watching the jolt in their step when they register the word “fetch” a second too late.

The back and forth debates and silly arguments ending in cutting them off with a simple “you’re so cute when you get excited”

The tease behind all those knowing glances and trace of the hand touches becoming just too overwhelming until my poor pup is stuttering through conversation and grinding its thighs together begging to be touched😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

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My gender identity is a little different from yours but I’m still trying my hardest not to think of it

Type "my gender is" on your phone and let your phone finish the sentence, then tag your moots to keep the chain going, I'll go first.

My gender is a little bit more intense than I thought I could have done

@mirukosbitchywife @get-junpeid