#no one’s here || ooc

[chxrgebxltmeltdown]

Am I going to be the only one at the movie in cosplay? Probably apart from my brother, but I give no shits!

[god-offical]

Hey girl are you a witch because I’d *check notes* b-burn you alive? Hang you? Crush you with stones? Oh god none of this is good pickup line material is it

[spottedgardeneelstan]

romance route unlocked!

based on this post, which seemed like an interaction shen jiu would have

[katsu2ji]

homesick — k. bakugou

a/n: to everyone going through a season of change, no matter how big or small, i love you :')

katsuki does a lot of stupidly annoying things sometimes, but one thing he will never, ever, do, is make fun of you for being homesick. he might joke around at first, but the moment he noticed you going silent and getting too lost in your own head, he makes a mental note to keep his mouth shut. he doesn't know what to say, so he doesn't say anything for fear of making things worse for you. he just lays down beside you, holding you up a bit and letting you cry as much as you need to. he doesn't care if you soak his shirt—it's you, for crying out loud. "it's just some damn fabric, it'll dry."

afterwards, he's doing everything he can to distract from the loneliness you may be feeling. he's grabbing a weighted blanket, arranging it so that most of the comfortable heaviness lays on you just right. he's getting you some water, making sure you get the rehydration you need so that you don't end up with a headache. "i don't wanna hear you complainin' later," he carefully teases with a small smile, glad to see you faintly return it. he's moving back into bed with you, resting comfortably at your side, a silent reminder that he's here. you're not alone like your mind is trying to convince you.

when he feels like the floor is open again, he's trying to bring back that smile. he's reminding you of all the good reasons for this change, the goals he knows you have and are capable of accomplishing. in his own katsuki-bakugou way he's trying to get you to focus on the positive side of things, something that you're usually doing to him. but he's willing to switch roles, because if there's one thing that makes him feel more helpless than anything else in this world, it's seeing the people he loves upset.

the feeling of homesickness can be hard, that he knows. it's a that feeling like your heart is squeezing in your chest and you can't stop it, and he's not gonna pretend like he hasn't felt it before. but at the end of the day,—and as cheesy as he knows it would sound coming out of his mouth—you've both got each other. he's not the biggest fan of change either, but he'd gladly go through a thousand different lives with you. he vows right then and there to make as much of a home for you as possible, whatever it looks like. he knows he can't make the uncomfortable feelings go away, but if he can loosen the painful tightening in your chest just a little, he'll do whatever it takes to see you smile again.

katsu2ji © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything of the sort with my work! i work very hard and you simply do not have my permission.

[zipmode]

has anyone done this yet

[zuzu-draws]

Trolling aside, i think there is some great importance as to why Gege chose this specific manner of panelling for the Yuji-Sukuna confrontation in JJK 264. We can't help but think that Gege's trying to show us some sort of a parallel between Gojo and Sukuna in this situation.

In JJK, there's this interesting notion of one's decision to go "North" or "South" as explained by Nanami during Gojo's death Flashback:

And we all know, that chapter of Gojo's death is titled as "Go South", which highly implies that Gojo chose to stay as who he was, as opposed to starting as something completely anew.

Now the interesting point in the Yuuji-Sukuna confrontation is that apparently...

....the destination for the supposed train within Yuuji's domain...is "North".

Which means that Yuuji's taking Sukuna towards the North.......

They're heading towards the North.....do you guys understand what that means?? For BOTH of them??? Q C Q

[lucaanis]

『💞』 — "Nothing I'm seeing makes me want to look away."

+ bonus live rook reaction 🥴

[nonlethal-au]

Hey, seeing as One Small Dream by Calcium-Cat updated, here's an un-friendly reminder:

If you support Calcium cat or her views in any way, you are not welcome on this blog.

this blog is run by queer, POC, immagrant, trans people. People like Calcium-cat are not welcome.

- Dove

Reminder!! Everyone in this au is trans!!!!

[chxrgebxltmeltdown]

Tsubasa my beloved ✨ Yall should follow my villain girl

Rules || Muse || Mun || Follows From - @refrxctedprism Promo by @shieldiingblow

[chxrgebxltmeltdown]

Hey hello bonjour

Just know, I love every single one of you okay???

Like- peopl escare me, but yall? Yall are cool and I love you

[flamingpudding]

do you still take requests? if you do can you write your take on this idea https://www.tumblr.com/ilydana/746501696852819968/cloneclonedbatman?source=share

Thanks for the Ask! That's is an interesting one!

Also as long as I can write something to it I don't mind getting requests, if I can't I will let people know if I can. So no worries about that K?

Out of courtesy and because I believe its is the right thing to do here the Link and a Tag to the original writer @ilydana I hope you don't mind that I am taking inspiration from you for this.

Also I don't know Conners Timeline well and I like to base my writings on the Wayne Family Adventures settings so.... yea sorry if I got some facts wrong....

-------------------------------

Clone double Wamy

Thinks were never easy for the Waynes, Bruce realised that when he sat in the meeting room. Usually he would have confronted his best friend in a more private setting, like when it was just the two of them or only Diana with them. But his best friend had been grating on his nerves with this for a while now. Bruce had honestly believed Clark had gotten better with the whole Clone thing but apparently he hadn't.

"All I am saying is that Conner is a person and to stop referring to him as 'it'." Bruce wasn't sure what had this brought on but maybe it was also having listened to his own kids rants about the way Conner had been and sometimes still was treated by Clark. Usually when someone called his friend out on it he would laugh awkwardly and say it was a slip of the tongue. That he still wasn't completely used to the idea of having a clone.

It's been years and Bruce wasn't buying that excuse anymore.

Well his persistent nagging had now caused this petty fight in front of everyone. He knew his children present, Dick and Tim, would have his back as well as most of their friends. But he also knew that those that prefer to keep the peace would try to argue in Clarks favor to sweep this hole problem under the rug once more.

"You don't get what it is like to be cloned or how long it takes to get used to it!"

His eye twitched under his cowl, he could also feel his kids tense up, especially Tim. His entire family had expirence when it came to cloning. The number of labs from the LoA they had shut down and destroyed was a testament to it. But there was one thing his entire Family aside from Alfred didn't know either.

"I actually do."

He stated calmly watching Clarks reaction as he stared unwaveringly at his best friend. He could see the colour drain, the paling and the pure look of disbelief he was getting, while Nightwing and Red Robin stood up to stand behind him with crossed arms. They probably thought he was referencing the time they had to fight Damian's Clones that sadly couldn't be saved like Conner had been.

"What do you....?" His best friend started but wasn't able to finish his question as Bruce decided to rip the bandaid off.

"The original Bruce Wayne died before he even was one month old. My parents, unable to cope with the loss cloned the baby with the help of a pair of scientist from Illinois." If the situation was different he might have laughed into the faces the people around him were making, not very Batman like of him but it was kind of funny. Still he was thankful for the comforting hand his son, Dick, placed on his shoulder or the way his other son, Tim inched closer protectively like. These two while probably shocked still stood by his side.

"And i was not the only clone that resulted from my parents original grief."

He left it at that as he stood and left the meeting without any further explanation. Bruce had made his point clear, now the ball was in his friends court. He was thankful that his kids followed him out as he went straight to the Zeta-Tubes to return to the Batcave. He knew his kids had questions for him, but he was not willing to answer them in front of the other heroes and thankfully his kids knew that that. So they silently followed him until they were back to the cave.

"B?" Dick asked tentatively once they were back in the came.

"It is as simply as I stated. My parents grieved the loss of their original son and unable to cope they cloned their own child with the help of a pair of scientist." He reiterated his earlier statement not looking at the two at first. For a brief moment he was thankful his other kids were out and about busy with other things.

"A pair of scientists?" Tim propped further and Bruce sighed wondering how much he should tell or if he could keep some things secret.

"Family actually. Estranged but they were... are family." He nodded. "The Fentons. Jack Fenton was my fathers cousin. Because of his field of research he got estranged from the family, not fitting into the perfect image my great grandparents had in mind for the Waynes originally. My father contacted him for help regarding the cloning back then."

"You said you weren't the only one?" He gave Tim a small smile, it was just like him to catch on to the small details and focus his questions on that.

"I didn't know until many years later when my parents died." He smiled a little remembering back to his training with Lady Gotham and how she asked him if he had siblings and then proceeded to introduce him to his clone twin. Ever since then Danny had become quite the fixture in his life, a reconnected family member. Though they had needed a lot of help when it came to actually speaking with each other but that thankfully Danny's sister Jazz helped.

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when he noticed Dick's stare of realisation. "Uncle Danny!"

Bruce just smirked, chuckling lightly as he gave his eldest a slight nod. "Danny."

Dick was the most familiar with Danny having meet the other a couple of times when he was younger and just started out as Robin. Bruce wasn't ashamed to say that Danny and Alfred had been the two he had asked for advice the most when he had taken Dick in back then. Danny had already expirence in raising kids from an even younger age than Bruce had. That their two cousins Dan and Danielle were in a way clones too was however something he would not be telling his kids yet. Frankly it wasn't his place and honestly if Danny hadn't become as comfortable as he had with this fact over the year he wouldn't have outed his clone twin to his kids either.

"So...." Tim started, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "...what now? Not that it will change anything now but uh...."

"Nothing really? I mean if Clark still got a problem then well I guess we don't have a super uncle anymore? But hey maybe we could introduce Uncle Danny to Conner?" Dick shrugged turning to Tim.

"But that would mean we admit to Uncle Danny that B let us in in the secret and that could make things awkward and..."

"Tim you are overthinking! It will be fine!"

Bruce smiled as he watched his two sons start to argue wether or not to introduce Danny to Conner. Well even if they did Danny wouldn't mind it. In fact Bruce had kept his clone twin updated on a lot of things that happened with his work as Batman. One of the reasons was that Danny had started out in the hero business way sooner than Bruce had but also because Danny was his last resort contingency plan against everything.

His twin would probably laugh in their faces and ask why it took them so long to introduce them and then drag his own daughter to meet Conner so they could have some 'clone'-bonding time and knowing Danielle, she was going to drag Dan along and then Bruce himself too. Bruce chuckled at that thought, he also knew that if Clark doesn't clean up his act than Danny would most likely swoop in and adopt Conner right out of under Clarks nose.

Well all he had to say if it came to that was that his best friend wouldn't be able to blame anyone but himself then.

[winchester101]

The way Sanji was so jealous that Luffy was giving another cook attention

​Luffy: mm food food food

Sanji: *stomping his foot on the ground* Stop looking at other cooks!!!!!

[cluescorner]

The Council of Optimuses: Pleasant, generally positive, they exiled Bayverse a while ago but they still check in once in a while to make sure he's ok/out of curiosity, Earthspark enables One's 'I can fix him' delusion to the point that Prime is falling into it too, IDW does NOT want to add to the delusion pile so he shuts up, Cyberverse kinda doesn't want to be at this meeting it feels too much like a party, IDW keeps making calls to somebody but he won't tell anyone who, they used to have 'bring your Bumblebee to work day' but Skybound had a breakdown over it so they can't do that anymore, everybody is suspicious of Skybound's new arm but the only person who actually brought it up was Bayverse whose solution was 'kill him' so now everybody thinks they are getting paranoid and should maybe start seeing a therapist (they should start seeing therapists, but they ARE right about the arm).

The Council of Megatrons: They are having a great time even if it looks horrible from the outside looking in, Prime constantly wants to fight IDW for his spot as the strongest Megatron but IDW is not about that, they tried to kick out Earthspark but he somehow keeps getting in (IDW leaves the door open), One has like 5 devils on his shoulder telling him to escalate and two fallen angels who are desperately trying to get across that maybe total destruction isn't the move, IDW is trying to hide his redemption arc in order to keep the situation under control (only Earthspark is aware of it, though Skybound has his suspicions), Cyberverse always tries to kill the others to take over their universes and it's the highlight of everybody's month, Bayverse is mocked for being killed by Optimus but secretly everybody is kinda jealous about it (Prime especially), one time an unidentified Starscream (it was Animated) broke in and it was on sight (he got away because every Megatron wanted to be the one who killed him and they fought each other over it), IDW keeps taking calls from somebody but he won't tell anyone who, Skybound can listen in on his Optimus's meetings due to being his arm and reports back, there is an ongoing debate about whether Galvatrons should be included.

Inspired by @jyang030107 's art of ES and IDW Megs advising their One counterpart.

[cmkren]

— do you yield?

; gregory house x gn! Reader

Unsurprisingly, a night out between House and Wilson doesn’t end up uneventful. Tensions were strung in a-- stranger way, now with Amber in the picture. One of House's grand schemes goes sideways when the person he provokes ends up punching him right in the face. In an attempt to get Wilson in trouble (due to the whole curfew agreement), House got ahead of himself and now Wilson dumps him onto someone else rather than face the wrath of his girlfriend.

And of course, no one’s ever happy to see House on their doorstep.

a/n; sorta just ! Self-indulgent!! This fic leans towards sub bottom house roles, no sex just sloppily making out. Written in 3rd person, they/them for reader! Honestly not too proud of this, but I wanted to get this out 😓

tws!! Suggestive, minor blood play (like incredibly minor), and house bein house — 4.5k words

The plan had been going smoothly. Drinks were going down quickly for Wilson, lord only knows how stressed he had been to be downing alcohol like it was water, and thankfully for House he recalled scoring over God a couple years ago. Meaning he knew what had been haunting Wilson's always-ready-to-please mind.

The connection that Amber had been so similar to House had already been scrounged up, and even House would be lying if that made him think just a little too. Oh, nothing crazy maybe just the fact that if he'd been a woman, Wilson might have been all over him. Her?

The details didn't matter.

What did matter though, was his loss of control over the situation. House didn't know what he had been thinking. No one had been paying them much attention, and his goal was to just get Wilson drunk. Only Wilson. He supposed that he thought he needed to convince his friend to keep drinking? Maybe that's why House started drinking too. And maybe that's why he started picking fights with strangers.

It started off as passing remarks he made to Wilson, the infamous smug smirk that showed how he thought himself omniscient in a sense. That he was so sure he could read people like a book. To a certain degree, that was true. How else was he capable of coming up with schemes that would puppet the parties involved for his own benefit?

Eventually though, passing remarks would eventually turn into what seemed like heckling. No wonder he ended up getting socked right square in the face by a patron. House was always self-sabotaging, but sabotaging his own plans to sabotage Wilson's relationship with Amber? Now that was a little ridiculous.

Didn't change the fact that it happened though.

"Oh-- come on House, I can't bring you back to my place and you know it." Wilson's voice had some strain in it, one of his arms hooked around his friend's (questionable title given to the likes of House) waist as he led him to his car. "Especially not since you started this... this meaningless war." He muttered, the hesitance in his voice to say meaningless suggested that maybe he didn't think it was entirely meaningless. Perhaps a hint to the fact that he did find amusement in it. Hell, maybe even enjoyed it for a bit.

House was disoriented. Not by liquor, but by the fact that he had blood gushing out of his nose and perhaps even a bit of a broken nose at that. "She's got you on a leash, Wilson." He swallowed, wetting his dried mouth. "If I say I'm sorry for leaving you at the pound and give you a treat, will you come running back to me?" He spoke with a certain monotonous that always indicated that he was just being a dick. Everyone's heard it enough to recognize it.

On the other hand Wilson decided to ignore that remark and start tapping away on his phone. Scrolling through contacts in an attempt to make some sort of solution for this mess. “I’m handing you off to someone else House. Whether you like it or not—” he swung open the car door to the passenger seat, muttering a few ‘careful’s as he lowered the man into the seat. Impaired judgement kept him from stopping the bloody nose first, and instead opting to do it when he got into the driver’s seat first.

”Are you dialling Thirteen?” House tilted his head forwards, just letting his head hang before Wilson shoved a bundle of tissues against his face. In turn he winced and complained ‘oww!’ dramatically. “Better be Thirteen.” His voice all muffled by the tissues.

Little did he know, it was the nurse that worked under a couple of his former ducklings.

House usually didn’t care for the other staff around the hospital, but he cared when he thought he could squeeze out some information out of some. That’s what he’d done to them. But not only did they refuse to sell out their fellow coworkers, they had also exacted revenge on him not too long ago. They didn’t necessarily win but they also didn’t lose.

What they were capable of doing, was bruising his ego.

After that, the two just kept interacting. The rivalry the two shared was almost akin to a friendship, but neither of them would admit to such a thing. After all, they hated each other’s guts.

There was a mutual respect there though, hidden somewhere. Wilson liked to think that at least. He would mention it or make a comment about it to House but of course he was always met with a response like—

“Tomato, To-mah-to. Only respect they ever receive from me is purely superficial. Happy to see them go, even happier when they turn around and I get to watch them leave.”

Wilson had rolled his eyes then, taking it as another one of those jerky comments House made to be a dick for the fun of it. The longer he had let it marinate though, and the tone shift at the time, perhaps it had an underlying meaning to it. Or he could just be giving him the benefit of the doubt. Again.

The car engine roared to life when Wilson inserted his car key, his other hand pressing his phone to his ear as he gave his friend one singular glance to make sure he wasn’t doing something stupid. He wasn’t. Just popping some more pills.

”Wilson it’s—” a voice picked up. They paused, as if looking off to the side.

”It’s 10 pm. This is well after office hours.” They spoke with a certain exhaustion in their tone. Expected, to be fair. They were all employees of a hospital, hard to keep up a good amount of energy when you’re running around the place all the time. Especially a nurse.

”Listen, I know this is a big request but,” he put his hand on the steering wheel, grunting when House would knock the butt of his cane against his forearm, “House— you’re going to cause us to crash!”

“House? He’s with you?” They sounded surprised at first before it all melted away, “Oh, who am I kidding, of course he’s with you.” The tone of their voice simply went from quizzical to bemused really quick. “I’m not doing anything for that bastard— this is too big a favour to ask of me Wilson.” Their indignation to aiding him in whatever he was about to ask didn’t keep Wilson from having his foot on the gas pedal though. He was convinced he was going to have them agreeing by the time they get there. If they don’t agree well… too bad they were going to show up to their house anyways.

As the conversation continued out on the phone, it didn’t take long for House himself to realize who had been called to their rescue. It made him scoff in amusement, “oh yeah smart move Wilson. Get stick-up-their-ass to keep me from bleeding out at their place that’ll work out!” He raised his voice loud enough that he knew he’d be audible through the phone.

Wilson furrowed his brows, his mouth agape for a second as he struggled to formulate a sentence but they cut him off before he could.

”Bleeding out? What the hell were you guys doing?” The concern was real but they eventually sputtered and tried to backpedal, “you know we’re not close enough for me to be covering whatever illegal activities you guys are doing!” Which was reasonable reaction, honestly.

“No— no— nothing illegal!” Wilson opposed, having to fight the urge to just knock his head against his steering wheel. God, it was like having two children in each ear yelling at him. House was talking about something but so were they. It just became a garbled mess. Not to mention the fact that he was still driving.

”I warned you. We’re on our way.” In the end, Wilson stood his ground. Pocketing his phone, he would keep his eyes straightforward on the road.

__________________________________________

“You’re lucky to have a friend like Wilson.” They murmured, lips pulled taut as they dabbed a cotton swab around the other’s nasal area. It was reddened with blood, bits of it dark from it already coagulating and drying out. House remained still, for the most part. Pale blue eyes staring right at them, not necessarily happy about this situation either. He wasn’t even tipsy anymore, just sober and in pain.

To be fair though, that was kind of regular day to day for him.

House’s eyes looked down briefly, flexing his fingers. “Yeah? Well friends like Wilson end up dumping you to get butchered up on a chopping block.” Then he wiggled, “or I suppose on a kitchen counter.” Not even an amused noise from them. Just the knitting of brows as they were wary of his squirming to make his point.

They were firm with him, as many would have to be with House. A hand holding his face steady, thumb and index holding his chin so they could tilt his head if needed. House was surprisingly cooperative.

”Well good for you,” they paused their actions, giving him an obvious look over, “nobody actually likes old meat. Too tough, too chewy.” They scoffed, before going back to dabbing the bloody areas of his face. Unfortunately, he’d also gotten a busted lip. It wasn’t drastic but it was most definitely going to take more than just a couple weeks to fully recover from it.

House had his neck craned up, brows furrowed a little as he stared up at the ceiling. His eyes would shift downwards, looking to his begrudging caretaker. They had their lips pursed, their eyes a bit sunken from a long day.

He took the time to look at them though. Oversized band shirt over a pair of shorts. If he craned his head to the side just a bit, he could see that their shirt had hiked up just a little. Resting right above the small of their back, making it so that the front draped down but their ass visible.

His obnoxious ogling was cut short when he felt a dull pain, hissing as he felt just a little too much pressure being applied on his wound.

“I’m doing this for free already. If you want more, you’re gonna have to pay.” They muttered, voice thick with sarcasm.

House let sucked in a breath, “is this about the hookers? Just because I support sex work doesn’t mean I’ll let you drain me dry of my money! You’re not even a hooker.” He winced again, but not because they pressed too hard again. It was more a culmination of his leg and the busted up face situation.

For a brief moment, their eyes softened. They paused for a moment, pulling away and putting down the cotton pad they had held in their hand.

”Your Vicodin?” They questioned, as if expecting him to already be reaching for any sort of pill bottle. House gave a frown, not even really trying to feel himself to find said pill bottle.

He clicked his tongue, “must have dropped it back at the bar. Maybe Prince Charming will find it and return it to me and we’ll live happily ever after.” Actually, he was pretty sure if he ever came face to face with the guy again, he was going to end up with a black eye next.

They rolled their eyes. “I’ll get you something. Hold this.” They then passes him a bag of frozen… strawberries. Huh. Then they left the room, going to fetch something.

”Don’t even bother,” he held the frozen strawberries, and instead of using it as intended he opens the bag and pops one in his mouth, “it’s not going to even work.” His face contorted when the frozen fruit touched his tongue.

He supposed that was effective too. Brainfreeze. Maybe once or twice.

”I’ll just go on and skedaddle as soon as I can. Say, where are your car keys? A question of curiosity.” He called out, already turning his head to look about. When they popped their head back into the room they held what seemed to be clothes and a bottle of pills.

”You’re not getting my keys House.” They huffed, before walking back to him. The grown man sitting on their kitchen island with his legs dangling off the side, shirt bloodied and smelling of a rank bar.

This exchange caused him to raise a brow.

Not necessarily because they wouldn’t give him their car keys. But the fact that they held a change of clothes for him. Either they were just feeling generous, pitied him, or… they had actually planned for him to stay the night.

”Are you trying to get into my pants? You know, there’s different ways to do that—”

”Yes I want to have sex with you.”

The two stared at each other. His mouth agape as if he was going to speak, but they cut him off.

”No, House,” they gave an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose. “I’m not trying to have sex with you.” They dropped the clothes right next to him, “you just smell like dog food and shit.”

Then they showed him the bottle they brought with them.

”Ibuprofen? That shit doesn’t do anything!” House reached out for it, though his tone spoke of a child who had maybe received fish sticks instead of his preferred mozzarella sticks.

At his complaint, they clenched their jaw. “Either take some or I’m going to shove them down your throat.” That made him give a faux look of offence, “and you work at the hospital! I’m surprised Cuddy hasn’t canned you yet.” Though the look they gave him made him finally unscrew the cap.

They took a moment to watch him take a couple, before walking aside. “Go take that shower. I’m not taking you anywhere, but honestly,” they turned to give him a look, “I wouldn’t stop you from wandering out.”

House recognized that their first instinct might have actually been to care. Hence the actual attempt at cleaning up his mess. Even giving him clothes and letting him take a shower. But he also knew that their history wouldn’t allow them to just will themselves to be happy around his presence.

That’s why, as a fuck you towards them and Wilson, he was going to stay. Prove Wilson wrong by pissing them off they just have to go yell at Wilson tomorrow morning.

__________________________________________

The bright light of the TV flickered, colours danced along the surface of his gruff face as he sat on the couch. He made himself comfortable in their home, meaning he made a mess of the living room. It was almost midnight now. They told him off earlier, but after him not budging the slightest, they just slinked away into their room.

He knew they were still awake though.

It was that stupid pirate cartoon. Only played at night! When else was he supposed to watch it?

“House.”

He looked over, a clueless expression on his face as he then looked to his wristwatch, “is it early morning already? Wait, nope. Go back to sleep.” He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, as if shoo’ing them away. From their own living room.

The look on their face wasn’t even exasperation or frustration. They just looked done. They walked over, stepping in front of the television screen with their arms crossed. “Turn it off, you need rest.”

He tried to look around them at first, but it was all but futile! He groaned, “get out of the way. You really going to stand there the entire time?” The irritation in his voice didn’t necessarily match the glint in his eye. Amusement, perhaps even a hint of a challenge in them.

They squinted their eyes at him.

It was always that. The look in his eyes that presented a challenge that was supposed to push people away. Yet for people as stupid as those who willingly stuck around House, it did the opposite. Before their own experiences, they always thought it strange for Wilson or hell, even Cuddy to entertain him. Because for a lack of a better word, that was exactly what they do.

Now that they’ve been in a similar position, they understand why.

“Does it turn you on to be such a dick? Surely you’re getting some sort of sick gratification from what you do.” They sneered, approaching him and his smug son of a bitch face. He stared, like he always did, before turning his head and sticking out his lip a little ‘in thought’.

Then he gave a shake of his head, his expression dumb as he said, “my body says no but my mouth says yes.” Then taking a moment before furrowing his brow, “actually, pretty sure I mixed that up.” Just another one of his snarky remarks that made the recipient’s anger burn hotter. It wasn’t even good, the things he said sometimes. Not objectively.

Sometimes they were so stupid that it provided the same effect. The same results. And that was all House ever wanted— results.

Before they could get in another word though, House graciously interrupted them. “I’m not kidding. Step away.” He nudged his hand again, trying to wave them aside. His other? Rested on his thigh. Running along the problem site, up and down as if trying to soothe. Not that it ever worked.

“You didn’t take the ibuprofen.”

That seemed to strike a nerve. “No— I did. Would my incompetent nurse like to see me try again? It’ll only keep proving that I’m right.” He inhaled sharply, wincing. “It. Doesn’t. Work.”

At that, they finally took one step to the side. Allowing for the light of the TV to light him up again. He was sweating, just a little bit, on his head. If he was in so much pain wouldn’t he get up and go? Or was there something else he was trying to prove? Surely he didn’t hate them enough to endure his own pain to inflict pain upon them. Then again, that would be a House thing to do.

Silently, they sat beside him.

House scrunched up his nose, turning his head as he shifted, leaning further back against the plush of the couch. "That’s it?” He let out a shallow breath, turning ever-so-briefly to look at them. They didn’t return the gesture, just staring straight forward.

”That’s it.”

There was a quiet lull between the two, only the over exaggerated voices of the pirate and the princess audible in their space. Quiet wasn’t really House’s thing, though. He turned to them again, arm raised to rest against the back of the couch, “you’re just giving up? Just like that?”

Giving up?

They snorted. “I’m not giving up anything. You were the one with expectations.” Then they finally turned to meet his eyes, “I’m not in the mood for games, House. If you aren’t going to listen, then you aren’t going to listen.”

For some reason, he looked confused. “You don’t just give up. It’s the one thing that actually makes you interesting.” He spoke as if he was the one getting offended. Even if he wasn’t planning on it now, they couldn’t help but feel some anger bubbling up again. What did he want?

”Then you should fucking leave, shouldn’t you, Greg?” They hissed under their breath, trying to turn back to the meaningless cartoon.

Out of all the petty things they’ve argued about, this felt the most genuine. Over an… animated cartoon?

”No. I shouldn’t. You’re supposed to— to…” he paused, biting his tongue. As if the Gregory House was hesitating. When there was virtually no reaction from his uncharacteristic doubt, he grunted. “You’re supposed to fight back. Keep me here.”

A look of surprise crept up to their face. “What?” They blurted out, turning back around to see the man with his head down, eyes flickering up to get one glance at their face. To see what reaction he had received. There were so many things that could be said. So many things they probably should have said. One of them being ‘get out’ which so gingerly danced upon the tip of their tongue.

His head swayed to the side, mouth opening once but then pressed together in a thin line.

This was probably the withdrawals talking. The pain talking. It wasn’t anything he could really stop from spilling out, either way. “Come on. You’re not stupid now, too.” He clenched his fist, then unclenched, nervously fidgeting. “You might be boring but you’re not an idiot.”

”Stop speaking in fucking riddles and spit it out.”

House scoffed, maybe out of amusement. He made eye contact again and straightened out his back just a little. “You hate me. I like pissing you off.” They raised an eyebrow at this, opening their mouth to speak but House shut them up by just putting his whole hand over their mouth.

”Shut up. I know, stating the obvious.” He mumbled, watching them carefully before slowly lowering his hand again once he deemed that it was ‘safe’. “But you haven’t made any real effort into pushing me out. And I…” he furrowed his brows, pinching the bridge of his nose.

”I don’t know.” It all came to an abrupt end. House looked at them as if he expected them to understand what he was saying. What all this stumbling over words meant. There was a certain look in his eyes though, one that had replaced his smug piece-of-shit look from before. The one they were used to.

Too many silences. There’d been too many between them in such a short period of time. But whose fault was that, huh?

”You’re saying… that I… need you? Or what? That I like you?” Shock was still riddled all over their face— a mixture of shock and anger that is. Every time they calmed down he always managed to rile them up again. That has got to be a skill.

A sort of relief seemed to wash over him as he leaned back again. He made a gesture with his hand, giving them another look. The ever familiar House stare.

He was still playing a game. Whether or not his intentions were to simply screw around with them no longer mattered. Because even if he was being genuine the bastard didn’t know how to express himself without hopping through loops. His reaction to them finishing his thought spoke louder than any sort of response he could have followed up with. Even if they said that it was completely untrue it was too late, he made up his mind.

His reaction also meant that the thought of them needing him wasn’t a thought he disproved of.

They relaxed, eyes downcast for a second before they met his eyes again, “you’re a piece of shit.” They muttered, eyes then shifting to his hand that was closest to them. His other was still on his thigh. It had been the entire time. Right now though, it slowed down its ministrations. His attention was on them.

”I should be proving you wrong.” They were slow, grazing their hand over his before interlocking their fingers with his. Warm. Stiff but not dismissive of the touch.

”But you’d see through me, right? Because you always do. You know so much.” He didn’t lean in, but they did. It was like the air had gone still, nothing held either of them back. Not sure House wanted to be held back in any way. Especially considering the way he looked to their lips, ever slightly parted for him.

He was quiet. Waiting. Wasn’t this what he expected? Or— something adjacent?

They tilted their head, lightly lifting themselves off the couch to reach him, leaning over him just a little. “You’re not stopping me.” They mumbled, taking a brief pause. Their eyes stared at his face, appraising him. What did he look like? Hazy. Supposedly, they should back off now.

They got their answer. Didn’t they?

“You’re such a piece of shit.” They breathed out before kissing him. When did the mood change? Perhaps the very moment they decided to entertain his childish game of feelings.

House didn’t waste any time to reciprocate. His hand moved off his thigh, hiking around their waist and pulling them close, so they didn’t have to hover as much. Mouths moving in tandem, both of them warming up as hands travelled up and down and groped. He tried to advance, but they pushed back.

”Don’t you even think it House.” They whispered against his lips, one of their hands on his other thigh and another against his chest. Kissing him again, he chased after them as they pulled back again to give him a smug smile, “under my roof, my rules.”

”Taking my credit? For this? Didn’t think you a thief.” He spoke, but his eyes were trained back on their lips.

“You think I want the credit for initiating?” They muttered, their hand trailing up from his chest to his face. “No. I want the credit for this.” They leaned back down, inching their bodies closer as they kissed again. As feverish as they were, the heat of the moment wasn’t enough to cover the sudden sharp pain he felt on his lip.

His shoulders tensed, what was akin to a whimper slipping past his lips. His eyes fluttered open, and he saw them above him. A gleaming of something besides saliva on her own lips.

House’s hand goes up, pressing it gently against his lip, “you bit me.” There was blood, not too much, but enough. It was the busted lip they’d nurtured, now it was bleeding again. Yet he didn’t find it at all insulting. Instead, he almost looked pleasantly surprised.

”Want me to kiss it all better?” They mused, chest heaving still, and giving him time to either accept or decline. Maybe they should have asked first—

“You’d be sleeping on the couch if you didn’t.” He hardly finished his sentence before he reached for them again, the two clawing at each other desperately as saliva and blood was smeared against their faces. They were kind enough to not do much more to fuck up his lip more, instead going to plant kisses against the side of his neck and down to his chest.

A few red imprints left in their wake, which looked like red lipstick at the time but would most certainly just look like dried blood in the morning. And most certainly not look like kisses.

The hickeys though— that was most certainly going to be a conversation topic between House and Wilson in the morning.

”Admit it House,” they murmured against his skin, their hands quickly working to unbutton his shirt, “you’re the one who needs me.” They kissed and gently nipped at his skin, their hands moving to his belt when his upper body was exposed for them.

He tilted his head back, hissing out a breath as he tried to muster up some words without giving them too much gratification. Looking back, he eyed their close proximity to where he needed them most. “Says the one with their hands practically down my pants.”

“Fine. I’ll take them out.”

“Don’t you dare.”

Guess they were both going to be sleeping on the couch that night.

[welcometogrouchland]

my Stephanie Brown hot take is that she should get mad bitches now that she's single in comics. Yes yes shipping BUT the one time she had sex she was punished by the narrative via teen pregnancy. I think she should be allowed to have as much sex as she wants with zero consequences. Could be a lot of sex, could be a little. Point is she should get to do it without getting narratively baby trapped this time. she should get them pregnant, actually.

[sassypantsjaxon]

Zoro offers to kill Judge

When Sanji returns from Whole Cake and his wedding and Luffy and Nami will only tell him the barest details because it's Sanji's business to tell and he isn't saying anything. Zoro says he can go and kill Judge right now and still be back in time to fight Kaido. His captain tells him No. Sanji wanted them alive. Zoro respects that, but he still offers again when Sanji finally tells him why he had to ask Zoro to kill him. Sanji manages to fake a laugh through his tears as he tells Zoro No, that's not necessary.

It's not the last time Zoro offers. When Sanji starts staring out into the distance, towards where he knows the North Blue must be, with this desolate look on his face. When he buys Zoro a good bottle of sake. When his hands start to tremble with contained strength. When he gets up before dawn to prepare breakfast for everyone. There's no rhyme or reason to when or why Zoro offers. As a reassurance, as a thanks, as a promise. Sanji knows he means it, every time, and he denies him every time. He'll never admit how much he appreciates the offer. How much he wants to accept, but he just can't. It becomes a part of their courtship, just as much as their daily sparing. They'll fight over anything and everything, they'll make up again over shared food and clean dishes and naps on the deck, and Zoro will kill Judge for Sanji. Keep his beloved hands clean of his creator's blood. He offers once, in between the proposal and Luffy declaring them husbands, says It can be a wedding present, and is only joking about it being a gift for their wedding. Sanji still laughs when he says No. Sometimes they'll go so long that Sanji starts to wonder if Zoro's changed his mind, that maybe he won't kill Judge for him after all. And then one morning, out of nowhere, Zoro will catch his hand as he he's in the middle of something else, and tell him I'll do it for you, just say the word. And Sanji will tell him Not today. Sometimes he wonders if the only reason he keeps denying Zoro this one thing, it's really because hearing the offer sounds like a reassurance of the other man's love for him. And then Sanji tells Zoro about their child. And Zoro has plenty of his own concerns. Children are so fragile, both their bodies and their spirits so easily broken. But it's different for Sanji. This constant battle between joy to have this little thing growing in him, and the terror that maybe the things he's managed to fight away will be passed on to this innocent party. Zoro offers again. He'd be back home long before the child arrives. Sanji cries and tells him It wouldn't change anything now. It's the first time his answer hasn't been a no. But it's not a yes either, so Zoro waits. Maybe the day Sanji agrees will never come, but Zoro will wait for the rest of his life if the reassurance is the one thing Sanji needs. And their baby comes and Sanji laughs at how terrified Zoro is to hold them for the first time, and they look just like Zoro, and Ussop jokes that Sanji's genes didn't even put up a fight and Sanji just looks so so relieved. Their child is no stronger or more durable than any other child in the world, they cry when they're upset and laugh when they're happy and Sanji couldn't be more relieved. And Zoro knows. He knows what the answer will be the next time he asks. He knows that no child will ever go through the torment that Sanji did. He knows that Judge will never hurt another person. But he doesn't ask. Because he needs Sanji to be absolutely sure of his decision, so he doesn't ask. And still one morning, as Sanji's waking up and Zoro's going to bed, and Sanji is holding their child his his arms, with all the wonder that something so precious could be theirs, and he looks up at Zoro with a lifetime's worth of love, and tells him Yes. And Zoro says Consider it done.

He goes alone. He knows the rest of the crew would join him, destroy all of Germa 66, send it to the depths of the ocean for the sake of their kindhearted cook. But this is only Zoro's promise to keep, so he goes alone. He finds Germa without any trouble. He's always trusted to seas to bring him exactly where he needs to go, and this time is no different. It's big and cold and ugly and contradictory to everything Sanji is. Just having heard about it, Zoro had wondered how his Cook could have come from a place like this. Seeing it for himself makes him wonder even more. It's easy enough to find the palace, even easier to find the throne room. Judge recognizes him immediately. Pirate Hunter. Greatest Swordsman. First Mate to the King of the Pirates. Husband to the failed prince of Germa. It's pathetic, the way Judge begs for his life, promises Zoro anything he could want. There's only one thing he's capable of granting, and Zoro doesn't hesitate to demand it. Reiju named as his successor. He knows it's what Sanji would want. The only way to guarantee Germa's sins won't be repeated, aside from destroying it outright. There are plenty of other things Zoro wants from Judge. But none he's truly able to give. He wants Sanji's peace of mind, for himself and for their child. He wants Sanji to never wake up and fear he's back in that cell again. He wants to take all of Sanji's pain and bear it himself, but this is the best he can do. It's almost not even worth the effort it takes to kill Judge, and he almost feels bad for putting this coward's blood on his swords, except they're begging for it almost as much as Zoro is. He passes Reiju herself as he's leaving the throne room. She takes in the scene with no emotion showing on her face. Zoro isn't sure if her lack of reaction is from the modification Sanji had told him about or if this would be her response anyway. Zoro stops just past her, but doesn't turn back to look at her. Tells her Sanji has a child. Named Sora. They're safe and loved and cared for by the family he's created for himself. He thinks he hears some emotion in her voice as she tells him Good. I'm glad. Zoro doesn't stay to hear anything more. He wants to find the room Sanji was held prisoner in, destroy it, bring this whole place to the ground. But he'd only promised Sanji this one thing. He returns to the Sunny as easily as he had left. He hadn't been gone long. Everything's exactly as he left it. Sanji and Sora are still waiting for him. Sanji falls into his arms, finally free of this weight he's been carrying his entire life, looks up at Zoro with a tear filled smile and tells him Thank you.