#and also they become besties over the years

[all-pacas]

foreman cannot catch a break! first, he has to third wheel chase and cameron, after he has to third wheel chase and thirteen, his ex-girlfriend! then he and taub become friends and then chase goes and becomes a favourite of his daughters.

No wonder he continues to hate chase, I'd be pissed if some guy easily got everything he wanted in my life too

HONESTLY I could and probably will someday write up a whole thing about this, I know you're joking (and correct), but I actually find Foreman and Chase's antagonism really interesting and way more interesting than the bland "aww they're besties" read you sometimes see. They're really not!

Chase is basically. Chase is basically the embodiment of everything Foreman hates, pretty literally. Foreman has an inferiority complex and suffers massive imposter syndrome; Chase is literally a nepotism hire with a famous father. Foreman works his ass off; Chase is notoriously lazy but genuinely talented.

There's this line in Post Mortem from Chase's other hospital nemesis:

CHASE: If you really think I'm a good doctor, why do you treat me like an idiot? TREIBER: It's not because you lack talent. It's 'cause you've wasted it. Did you know I applied to be a fellow with House the same year as you? CHASE: No. TREIBER: Quit my other program, relocated, broke up with my girlfriend. Then your father made a call, and suddenly you had the spot. CHASE: That was almost ten years ago. TREIBER: Do you know what I could've done after even three years with House? Gone to the CDC, W.H.O. Started a diagnostics department someplace they'd never even heard of such a thing. You've been given everything. Looks, talent, my future. Nine years later, look what you've done with it.

This could literally be Foreman talking. Chase is rich, successful, he's socially very adept (something Foreman struggles with); on the surface he never seems to have to work hard for anything, he never seems to try hard or care. He fucks over House with Volger and gets away with it. He gets fired but keeps managing to fail upwards, and meanwhile Foreman is the one with a shitty reputation who can't get a job anywhere.

Foreman came from nothing, he overcame so much, he has overcome literally all the odds and worked his ass off and done everything right. And he's wildly successful, for sure, but it's work. "Chase doesn't care about this job," he tells House in S1. Chase doesn't deserve to be in the same place, because Chase hasn't worked for it.

There's a very interesting class/racial subtext to it all too, of course. We know Foreman resents poor people and the underprivileged, people who remind him of himself. Chase is literally the one percent: a good looking White Man, the scion of a rich and powerful family. He is everything Foreman isn't. Even their dynamic is kind of telling of this: Chase never seems to take Foreman all that seriously. He takes the piss a lot, he enjoys making fun of him and trolling. Chase does this with everyone, it's not personal, but it's kind of insulting, right? Chase kind of treats Foreman like a joke. Where Foreman can often be very rude or even mean to Chase (his insistence that Chase must have ratted to Tritter and is that spineless and making fun of his dady issues in Finding Judas comes to mind), Chase doesn't return the favor in the same way. Foreman is mean, Chase is sarcastic. Which is of course also hurtful. Which of course also makes it seem like Chase looks down on Foreman. I'm sure that's how Foreman takes it. It's true. Chase is pretty fucking dismissive of Foreman. I don't think it's a class/racial thing in the way Foreman's resentments probably are — Chase is kind of dismissive of most people — but it doesn't help.

And, of course, Foreman isn't completely right. He's biased, he's in his own way kind of a snob, there are several examples of Foreman completely misinterpreting Chase as a person: my favorite is in The Mistake: in an episode showing Chase bonding with Kayla and her brother and taking a sincere interest in Kayla's kids, Foreman bitterly complains to Stacy that Chase doesn't care about his patients. But Chase isn't exactly jumping at the bit to open up to Foreman, even when Foreman does try and reach out (Socratic Method, post-S6 divorce). They're kind of… fundamentally incompatible people. They're eventual friends, they respect one another, but they're just incapable of seeing eye to eye.

[kiss2012]

obsessed with neil and katelyn. when neil’s like “you convince aaron i’ll convince andrew.” and katelyn’s like im not sure how and neil’s like well you have time but i’m going to convince andrew eventually. they were literally meant to star in a late 90s early 2000s teen rom-com together with aaron and andrew as their love interests.

[lordgrimwing]

First Meetings #08 / At The Park #02

Heavy clouds hung over the park as Celebrían parked the minivan in the dirt lot dotted with a handful of other vehicles. The clouds rolled in about an hour ago, contrary to the very optimistic weather report that morning of sunny skies and highs in the low eighties. Despite the threat of rain, Elladan and Elrohir insisted they still wanted to go to a park, so here they were: picnic basket packed and dressed for a potentially wet adventure. 

(sixteen-year-old Arwen declined the invitation to the soggy outing, citing hanging out with friends later as a reason to not risk getting muddied)

“Here we are,” she said to the twins as she turned off the van.

“Woohoo,” Elladan cheered as they undid their seatbelts and scrambled out of the vehicle. 

Oh, for the enthusiasm of ten-year-olds, Celebrían thought with a shake of her head. She got out of the car, retrieved the picnic basket, and headed for the covered pavilion. The boys could run off some energy in the field or on the playset before lunch and before the rain started, with any luck. She’d reassess the situation after eating to see if they should head home yet. 

The park was nearly deserted, not surprising with the gloomy weather. The only other person she could see was a guy with long pale hair sitting on a bench near the hill that went down to the duck pond. She picked a table under the empty pavilion and sat down. Reaching into the basket, she retrieved her computer. She would put it away when the rain started, but until then she wanted to review the family’s budgets. The kids teamed up earlier in the week to ask their parents to please let them go on a fun trip before school started again. Elrond and she were currently in the phase of discussing what was feasible, both financially and logistically.  

The wind picked up slowly, prompting her to zip up the light coat she brought with her. Looking up, she saw the twins on the swings, seeing who could go the highest. 

The first fat drops of rain plunked against the aluminum roof as she finished and put the computer away. The wind blew the drops sideways as they fell, but her spot in the middle of the covered area wasn’t at risk of getting wet provided the wind didn’t get much fiercer. Looking up again, she didn’t see the twins (they probably went down to the duck pond), but the guy reading on the bench was walking toward the pavilion, shoulders hunched against the elements, book tucked under one arm. 

“Hello,” she said with a polite smile as the elf (she hadn’t been sure before but she was now) settled at the other table that wasn’t starting to accumulate little puddles on the bench.

“Hi. I suppose the brown-haired boys are yours,” he said, voice lightly accented.

“Yes,” she said, unsure where this was going. Conversations with strangers at parks were usually about mundane things, but sometimes someone (usually an elf) had opinions about her family based on her children’s ears. This guy, with so much hair he must spend at least half an hour on it every morning, looked like he might be one of those who wanted to air their narrow view on interracial marriage. 

He continued, oblivious to her thoughts. “They’ve joined my kid hunting for frogs in the pond. If he has his way, they won’t be back until they're soaked, but maybe yours will be a moderating influence.” He laughed a little to himself.

“They don’t mind the rain,” she said, relaxing. “Lunch is waiting, though, so that might sway them.”

“Ah, stratagem.” He set the book on the table, giving up any pretenses of going back to reading rather than talking. He pivoted on the bench to look at her better. She noticed opaque scarring in his left eye. It was a little surprising but she didn’t stare. “Should never go on an outing with kids without a way to entice them to come back when it’s time to go.”

“I guess so.” She suddenly imagined making a snack trail back to the car like some kind of fairytale. 

There was a pause in the conversation as she brushed the ridiculous thought aside and he looked out through the rain toward the hidden pond.

When her thoughts were mostly called back from their fanciful trip, she asked, “Where in Doriath are you from?”

He looked at her, mild surprise showing on his face. 

Oh, was she wrong? She’d spent enough time in the country while growing up that she was fairly confident in her ability to recognize the regional accents, even if she couldn’t quite place where each was from anymore. But maybe she was wrong this time. She opened her mouth to apologize for assuming—it wasn’t any of her business, anyway.

“Most people don’t guess with that much confidence,” he said mildly.

“My father’s from Menegroth. I spent a lot of time there on and off when I was young,” she explained, hoping he wasn’t offended by her assumption. She really shouldn’t have phrased it like that or asked at all really. Growing up, she’d moved to so many different countries to follow her mother’s career that she was inured to asking and answering questions about where people were from. It wasn’t like that for everyone, of course—her experience was a bit unique. 

“Sorry, I should have at least introduced myself before asking that,” she said as the rain began pelting down harder. “Hi, I’m Celebrían.”

“Hello, Celebrían.” He pronounced her name in the same way as her father did. “I’m Thranduil. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.”

“How familiar are you with the country outside the capital?” He asked, apparently willing to go back to her original question.

“A bit. I spent a summer in Nan Elmoth.”

He contemplated her for a moment. “I lived in West Region. More recently, I’m from a few miles south of here.”

She’d been to East Region once to see the eponymous holly trees blanketed in snow (Celeborn later said he never would have forgiven himself if she’d missed out on the classic Doriadhrim childhood experience of hiding in the natural snow forts formed under the trees’ low branches), but the holly was probably what the region was best known for outside of Doriath so she wasn’t going to blurt that out.

“Oh, nice,” she said instead. “I think I have a great-aunt who lives there.” Then, because he’d pointed the conversation to where he was currently from, “it was a bit of a drive out here for me, but the boys wanted to come here again.”

“It’s a nice park,” Thranduil agreed. “There’s a trail, about a mile long, from here to an artificial wetland full of frogs and bugs. Legolas is a fan.”

Legolas must be his son. “Thanks, that’s nice to know. I had no idea.” That could come in handy when it came time for the twins to make bug collections for school.

Just then, a blond head peaked over the hill from the duck pond. A small boy came into view, soaking wet, with mud plastered to his shoes and bare shins and what looked like pond weed in his hair. Elladan and Elrohir came just behind him, windbreakers zipped and hoods up against the rain. They were also wet but clearly from the rain and not from playing in the muck of the shallow pond.

“Legolas,” Thranduil called to the little boy, who couldn’t have been much older than seven or eight. Despite his youth, he had long hair like his father (though more wavy than straight) that would take a considerable amount of time to get clean again. “Where’s your backpack?”

His hands came up as he spoke, and Celebrían realized he was signing. Was his child deaf?

Legolas pointed a muddy finger at Elrohir, who did have the strap of a red backpack flung over one shoulder. His hand then came up to wiggle in front of his face.

Thranduil snorted. “No, you’re silly,” he said, repeating the sign.

Celebrían stood up and unpacked the picnic basket as the three children arrived at the pavilion. They’d made lunch meat and cabbage sandwiches before leaving, Arwen pitching in too lest her brothers create some horrid combination (and so she could eat the pickle slices). There were carrots and apple slices, too.

“How was the pond?” She asked as Elladan and Elrohir plopped down on the bench.

“Super fun,” Elrohir reported. “We saw a lot of frogs and minnows.”

Elladan nodded in vigorous agreement as he bit into a sandwich. “Legolas knows all kinds of stuff about frogs. Don’t you?” He said through a mouthful of bread, good-naturedly nudging Legolas (who’d sat down between the twins instead of going over to his dad) with an elbow.

“Frogs,” the little elf murmured, his hands coming up to form more signs.  

“Frogs are his favorite,” Thranduil said, scooting to the end of his table so he could see his son better. He watched his hands move. “He likes the sounds they make and how they swim.”

“Did you catch any?” Celebrían asked. 

Her sons shook their heads, mouths full. Legolas’s eyes widened and then he shook his head vigorously and looked at his dad.

Smiling, Thranduil said, “We don’t touch frogs. We could make them sick or hurt them if we aren’t careful.”

A little bemused, she unwrapped her own sandwich as Legolas waved Elladan and Elrohir down to his level to whisper in their ears. The rest of lunch continued in a similar manner, part in signs and part in whispered conversations. She offered food to Thranduil—who politely declined—and Legolas—who shook his head and dug around in his flimsy backpack to retrieve a battered peanut butter sandwich.

The rain let up while they ate and talked, the sun suddenly peeking out bravely from behind the clouds. Thrilled, Elladan and Elrohir cleaned up their trash so they could go play again. Legolas jumped up to join them.

“Wait,” Thranduil said, snagging a dangling strap on the backpack that his son had put back on after eating his lunch so he couldn’t run away. “It’s about time to go.”

The child’s face fell. He raised his hands. Celebrían tried not to stare at the signing, but it was interesting to see how expressive the boy’s face was. He was plainly asking a question, even when there was no tone of voice to listen to.

“We can go now or stay ten more minutes, but if we stay then we won’t have time for the library today. Which do you want?”

Staying won out, and Legolas ran off after the twins who’d stopped halfway to the playground when they realized he wasn’t following them.

 Celebrían watch them go together to play. “Well,” she said, starting to put away the leftovers. “Your son is sweet.”

“He has his moments.” Thranduil’s tone suggested ‘moments’ meant ‘every moment of the day’. “What are your boys’ names, again?”

She’d said their names during lunch but wasn’t surprised he hadn’t caught which was which. “The one in the blue coat is Elladan. The one in green is Elrohir.”

“Elladan and Elrohir. Legolas likes them,” he said with a contemplative expression. “He doesn’t normally use his voice this much, especially with strangers.” 

She didn’t say anything to that. During lunch, she realized the child wasn’t deaf, but she felt like she’d risked putting her foot in her mouth enough today so she didn’t ask about it. She was curious, but that didn’t give her leave to ask personal questions. Elrond got so frustrated when strangers kept asking questions about his parents because he was visibly mixed-race. Even if questions were asked innocently, it wasn’t anyone’s responsibility to explain their existence. 

The ten-minute limit drew close.

Thranduil pulled a notebook and pen out of his pants pocket. He tore out a page and wrote a series of numbers down before offering it to her. “This is my cell number,” he explained. “I think Legs would really like to play with your kids again.”

She took the paper and slipped it into her coat pocket. “Sounds possible. I’m always looking for excuses to get them outside.”

He stood and dusted off his pants. “Right. I’d better go, or we will end up being late. I look forward to hearing from you, Celebrían.”

“Have a good day,” she said by way of good-bye as he picked up his book and headed for the playset where the kids were racing up and down the slides. 

She would talk to Elladan and Elrohir on the drive home and find out how they felt about setting up a time to play with Legolas again.

[catzgam3rz]

God I’m never going to be normal about this hockey team ever again

[queerlycarter]

im finally in a place where i have a real & consistent urge to make my life Better. more tolerable. enjoyable

im not just enduring anymore, i want to inhabit my life & my body

there are innumerable factors building up over years that led to this point, but i think a big one is my body's sudden & steep decline. it's led me to seeking relief & having to pay close attention to what my body is doing and how it's feeling, and make conscious choices to make myself more comfortable.

anyways which led to me FINALLY actually deciding that yes. i do want to start hrt. i'm done ignoring my body and im ready to start making it a place i'm happy living in

[jrueships]

Do you think Sauce would have a Rayquaza, yes or no?

i think sauce would have a rayquaza that showed up in his early life as a child like fairy oddparents showing up to miserable children. & he did all the research he could on how to treat it right and feed it and love it and care for it and clean it, and they became inseparable friends. He calls it Ray Ray his worm friend and it calls him [ DISTORTED INCOMPREHENSIBLE DIGITAL SCREAM ]. they have their own signature dap using Ray Ray's tiny trex arms and everything. people keep trying to steal ray ray because he's a legendary, but ray ray always wins because common thieves don't have legendaries. and then sauce ran into Aaron Rodgers with his cryptic Deoxys (u guys don't know how much that name hurts my brain to try and type) (i may Have Something) and love of discovering more about pokemon through battle , and Ray Ray didn't win this time

[goldiipond]

happy pride to them specifically

[clover-46]

NOW THAT ITS OUT FOR EVERYONE—

BLAKE BEING A SEER THEORIES WERE RIGHT OMG 😭😭. AND HE DOESNT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE CULT THE DUDE IS JUST USING THEM I WOULDNT HAVE SEEN THIS COMING FROM A MILE AWAY. I JUST THOUGHT HE WAS STUPID AND CRAZY NOT SMART AND CRAZY?? also him going bonkers over trying to save his friend but no matter what he does it’s always the same outcome makes sense on why he’s so obsessive. i mean he’s probably always been obsessive but i feel like bestie dying in every timeline made it worse? also we don’t know how long he’s been trying to save them sooooo… btw isn’t it so obvious he’s the reason they’ll die like it’s staring at him right in the face. my theory is that he makes this deal (?) with the sovereigns and the price brachium was talking about will get bestie killed.

[kxllerblond]

It needs to be said but some of y'all (the general rpc) are so anti or pro Reblog Karma that you end up being the same and you're both lowkey annoying and are why this space is so hard to exist in. Using people as meme sources is so rude and discouraging in a hobby that already makes getting traction on a blog feel like wading water and it's so tacky for y'all to flaunt the "Yeah I think Reblog Karma is cringe I'll reblog whatever I want! :P" every chance you get. In the same breath, reblogging a meme only to see a mutual IMMEDIATELY reblog it from the source right after you without sending anything is also obnoxious and it, frankly, doesn't make you any better than the first example.

RP is a hobby that is, whether y'all want to hear it or not, is a give and take hobby. If you want memes, you have to send them at least every so often. If you want threads, you have to actually do drafts. Etc. You can't just expect people to flock to you when you don't make any returning effort.

I'd say it's not hard to just copy and paste a silly sentence into someone's inbox but APPARENTLY it is since that's the reason aggro reblog karma and aggro anti-reblog karma even exists in the first place. Silly the community would rather circlejerk about how stupid reblog karma is or jump on people for not reblogging from the source instead of, idk, actually trying to interact with people but what do I know.

If you don't interact with people, they aren't going to want to interact with you and this won't change whether you're a tool who reblogs from people directly or reblogs from the source not even a minute after someone else without sending anything ever. People see, people notice, and people remember, and people are eventually going to stop putting in energy where energy isn't being returned. This is a social hobby and ask memes are like the bare minimum you can do and it's wild to see so many of y'all unable to do even that.

[sugurugetos]

like at some point isn't this all just sajaegi one way or another 🧍🏽‍♀️

yeah i mean u can sugarcoat it however ur like 'ur faves wont get awards if u dont put in effort' 'streaming party' 'fan project donate thousands of dollars here for us to buy albums!' but ur pushing false numbers to break a record... to make streaming seem more than it is or to make sales look more than they are... is that why we enjoy music

[mielgf]

fave point of a hyperfixation is when i physically cannot resist the urge to write fanfic 🥰

[anachronic-cobra]

Crime dramas are a guilty pleasure of mine. As is Matt Bomer

Plus Peter and Elizabeth have the healthiest, sweetest, and all around best relationship I've ever seen in media and honestly I feel like White Collar gets kudos for that alone

Like, Peter had undercover plans that would involve having to flirt with a suspect, and he was so horribly guilty for even the thought of having to fake-flirt with someone that he went and nervously sat his wife down to talk about it. Only for El to be like "you're the worst flirt in history this is going to be fucking hilarious"

I love this show

[reuptakeinhibitor]

might be developing feelings for my coworker 🙈

[floorpancakes]

say what you want about various things but clamp were kinda cooking when they were like 'if ur not around your gay love interest for like three hours you may just simply eat shit and fall out of a window and die' 😭

[evilminji]

You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?

Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.

Wouldn't you want to share it?

There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.

And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.

People hear about it.

Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.

But like?

Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.

Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.

Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.

It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.

So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*

So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-

YES!

Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-

Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.

Wasn't much of a question, was it?

So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?

You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.

Or BAD ones.

He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.

Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.

And nerdy.

Very, very nerdy.

But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.

Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.

Just feed me, kid.

Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"

..............how magic?

(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)

@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe

[lizardpersonyknow]

It's so incredibly funny to me that somehow some people think Tim is a boring straightlace and Jason is deranged and unhinged

Like Jason at his worst is a murderous crime lord who also has a moral conscience, protects children and sex workers, works to make the worst parts of Gotham safer and wants to know that his dad cares

Tim at his worst on the other hand.... Rampant murder with NO morals, becomes Batman and uses the gun that killed Bruce's parents, dictator, takes over like half of America, goes back in time like a couple times to tell his younger self that this is their inevitable end just to fuck with HIMSELF

Jason at his best is the happy robin, loves school, cares for sex workers becomes a crime lord to help make sure the people who are addicted aren't being given toxic shit

Tim at his best is entirely unhinged, stalking Batman and Robin through the streets, blackmailing Batman, all the young justice shenanigans, creating a fake uncle to avoid adoption, beefing with a like 9 year old (deserved imo 9 year olds are MEAN), lies to everyone including batman and take pride in it

Like besties one is exponentially more of a black sheep and it isn't the drug lord, it's the heroic sidekick of batman

Yes Jason is still out on the streets wildin and feral but I don't think people give enough credit to how normal he is for his background

Yes Tim is CEO but he's also been 17 for years and probably has taken cocaine to see what it felt like