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[evelynnoah953]

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[soapcloth]

CW: 18+ MDNI, soap x reader, reader injury (not described), structural accident (vague), saviour complex, implied forced isolation, reliance, pushy soap - Dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Johnny who could never, ever find it in himself to become a product of the bystander effect. At any given moment, he trusts his own judgment and experience above anyone else’s, a survival instinct wedged into his mind like shrapnel.

So when you find yourself victim to an unfortunate structural collapse, you wonder if it’s an angel barking out orders. “You- Grey shirt!” You could faintly hear. The voice was commanding, leaving no room for question or refusal. “Call EMS!”

Johnny who is right beside you when you wake up in an uncomfortable hospital bed, forearms flexed tensely over well-filled out worn denim jeans in the seat usually reserved for spouse or family. Says you got caught up in a freak accident, that he was the one to pull you out of rubble.

You’re later informed that your injuries are there, but none are life threatening. Tacks on that this might not have been the case if you hadn’t been rescued so quickly. When you finally make contact over the phone with a family member, they huff and puff about not being let in to see you. Johnny admits to pulling some strings to block anyone from coming in, assures you he just wanted to make sure you were on good terms with them. “Loads of creeps ou’there, aye?”

Johnny who relentlessly digs his way into your life after your discharge. At first it’s little offers; giving you his number if you need anything, which bleeds into “ye’ cannae drive like tha’, let me take ye’ on yer’ errands,” or “let me drop you off at yer’ follow up.” This becomes “well I was in the neighbourhood and figured I’d drop off some takeaway- tugs at m’heart to think about y’havin’ to make meals in yer’ sorry state.” and then suddenly, Johnny’s warm body is pressed carefully against yours in bed as he’s blathering on into your skin about how proud he is of your progress. Presses a wet kiss to your cheek and wonders where you’d be without him before he hooks a thick bicep under your neck and laughs, tells you that he’s glad you’re his responsibility now. “Would’nae have it any other way.”

[wileys-russo]

a deals a deal II l.williamson

"where'd you find this place?" you smiled in awe as you followed leah into the arcade, the blonde not missing the ways your eyes had lit up the moment the two of you had even parked outside, exactly the reaction she'd hoped for.

it having been your girlfriends turn to organize date night leah reveled in the fact that it was already seeming to be a success before it officially started, and you had to admit the older girl knew you like the back of her hand with this choice.

with both of you working full time, leah as a footballer and you as a primary teacher you both made a commitment early on, the moment things started getting serious, that despite your hectic schedules you'd still make every effort to keep consistent with spending quality time outside of work together.

and so the weekly date nights came into effect.

they weren't always big significant events nor did they always mean the two of you left your shared home, the key takeaway was quality time and so long as the two of you were focused on one another then that was guaranteed.

"lotte put me onto it, tao brought her here on one of their first dates." leah admitted as you gasped sarcastically. "and you're not even taking the credit? oh baby i'm so proud of you!" you cooed mockingly, pinching her cheeks as the taller girl shoved you playfully, the two of you making your way to the counter.

"i'll be taking credit for all the games i'm about to smash you at my girl, don't you worry your pretty little head about that." leah smiled smugly as you rolled your eyes and she hooked you both up with a large bag of tokens, even further fueling your excitement at the fact they still ran their games the old school way, physical tickets printed and all.

"oh my love me and my pretty little head cannot wait to watch you eat your words!" you grinned in response to her call out, and given neither of you liked to lose and were incredibly competitive, it was sure to be an interesting night.

there was a reason the two of you stopped getting invites to game night with leahs family, both of you banned until you learned how to behave like well mannered young women and not hotheaded impatient numpties, in the words of her grandmother.

"well either way you can consider tonight endless tokens, if you can spend them then i will buy them gorgeous." leah promised, pecking your lips sweetly with a charming smile and offering for you to pick the first game.

"mm good question babe. what do i want to beat you at first?" you pondered, stroking your chin as leah sighed dramatically at the time you were taking, tapping her foot and shoving her hands into the pocket of her jacket with a bored look written into her features.

"oh come on!" leah groaned impatiently as you pivoted away from yet another game, amused smirk on your features as you finally stopped and nodded happily.

"basketball. lets start off simple!" you decided, grabbing your girlfriends hand and dragging her over toward the game, the blonde hurrying to yank you back as a gang of young boys sprinted past almost smashing into you, leah looking after them with a deep seeded scowl.

"hey lee, need i remind you this place is actually designed for kids baby, relax." you smiled poking at her cheeks as she huffed air out of her nose but focused her attention back on you, both of you slipping tokens into your sides as the game lit up and a strong american accent yelled out the rules.

"ready...set....go!" leah counted down as the buzzer sounded, both of you scrambling to grab the balls, zoned in on your own rings as the points started to rack up for both of you.

leah snuck a quick glance to your side, bright eyes widening in shock seeing you were in the lead and by quite a significant amount. and just as you said neither of you liked to lose, which is what lead to her next move.

"oi!" you gasped as the defender leaned over and knocked the ball out of your hand, shooting with her other, doing it again and again as you reached for the basketballs.

"leah!" you laughed at her blunt competitiveness, shoving her as the final buzzer for the game sounded and the blonde cheered victoriously, pumping her fist and doing a victory wiggle having just beat you by two points.

"you are such a cheat and a shit loser." you shook your head as leah continued her victory dance, snatching her tickets from the machine and shoving them into her pocket.

"nah i'm not, cause i didn't lose." she booped you on the nose with a token as you smacked her shoulder. "right well if you want to carry on like that. would you care to make this interesting then williamson?" you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest.

"mm perhaps, what do you have in mind for a wager pretty girl?" leah raised an eyebrow curiously, cocky smirk still curled into her features.

"if i win, you do all the dishes and the laundry for a month." you stated, leahs jaw dropping and your smile widening knowing she detested the two tasks and would often offer you anything in return for not having to do them.

"a month!? nah two weeks mate max." "aw, are you that scared you'll lose baby?" "i am not! fine, a month then."

"but if i win... then you have to do that thing i've been asking you to since christmas, with my special gift." leah cocked her head to the side, storm blue eyes roaming over your body hungrily as you frowned a little in confusion before it clicked just exactly what she was after.

both half jokingly and half seriously the blonde had gifted you a very ill fitting maids costume for christmas, stating as part of your gift to her you should spend the day wearing it, claiming it would be great motivation for her to join you in doing the housework.

you only laughed and put it away, teasing that not even that would get her to pick up a dirty dish.

but every now and then leah would find it in the back of the wardrobe and the begging would start for you to live out what was clearly a fantasy for the taller girl, and each time you'd just teasingly shake your head in amusement and depart the room with a kiss, leaving her without a real answer.

"fine, a deal's a deal." you shrugged in agreement which was clearly to your girlfriends surprise as her eyebrows shot up in shock and you extended your hand, wiggling your fingers eagerly.

"brilliant. a deals a deal." the blonde echoed as she shook your hand but not before using it to pull your body into hers, stealing a kiss and nipping at your bottom lip, pulling away with a cheeky grin as your head spun and your cheeks flushed pink.

"right, my turn to pick then. and unlike some i won't take an hour to decide!"

~

"how in the hell do you even do this? its got no bloody control!" leah huffed, the two of you sat on motorbikes as you raced around the track on the screens in front of you, the girl beside you far from getting the hang of it despite it being the second time you'd raced, leah demanding a rematch after crashing her bike and earning a loss.

"like this, winner!" you cheered loudly, pumping your fists in the air as you zoomed across the finish line sitting back smugly as leahs eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown and she smacked at the handle bars in annoyance.

"loser." you pointed to her now with a wink as she flipped you off, rings glinting in the bright neon lights above.

"maybe i should get a motorbike." you teased, turning your body as leah jumped off the bike, appearing instantly in between your legs as you stayed sitting side sadle. "over my dead body, maybe focus on learning how to drive a car first babe." leah teased making you roll your eyes, her hands settling on your thighs and squeezing them with a grin.

"i'm a great driver thank you very much." "mmm but those handful of fines in your glovebox say differently baby girl." "those are parking fines leah, not driving offences." "oh i'm so sorry. correction then not only are you a shit driver but you're an appalling parker as well, can't even be trusted when the car is stationary!" leah tutted with a dissapointed shake of her head as you punched her in the shoulder and scoffed.

"sorry let me just get a score check, whose winning?" you asked, cupping a hand over your ear and leaning toward leah whose smile dropped.

"shut up." she mumbled with a small pout as you slid off the motorbike, the two of you wandering around for a moment as leah took her time choosing.

"perfect!" the taller girl grinned spotting a football shootout game in the back corner. "and how many goals do defenders normally score?" you hummed, pretending to be lost in thought as leah slotted in some tokens and rolled her eyes.

"don't be bitter that they don't have a teaching game babe, times tables aren't exactly something kids do in their time off for fun!" leah pouted sarcastically at your chosen career, you now the one to flip her off and gesture for her to start.

"right go on then superstar, dazzle me."

you had to hide your smile behind your hand as leah missed more kicks than she scored, the game clearly designed for a child with much less leg power as every ball sailed up and over the goal.

you watched as her shots became sloppier the more wound up and angry she got, only fueling her to continue to miss time and time again. "nah this is bullshit that's rigged!" leah scowled, kicking at the machine once her turn was over and grumbling under her breath.

"leah!" you scolded, moving her away from causing actual damage as she wound up for another kick.

"hey. breathe for me please, it's just a stupid arcade game, you're still a champion of europe baby. nothing takes that away!" you grabbed at her face, placing a soft kiss to her lips and feeling her body relax somewhat.

"...its just a good thing they didn't need you for any penalties because those attempts? massive yikes." "oi thats a red card for you my girl, absolutely uncalled for!"

~

"right, this ones the final game." leah glanced at the time and announced with a clap, the two of you so caught up you'd not even realized the time and how long you'd been here.

"oh how convenient, we're tied." you rolled your eyes, not believing that the 'score card' leah had been in charge of was really all that accurate, having been typed up in notes on her phone.

"and what is that supposed to mean?" "i'm accusing you of score tampering, williamson." "no idea what on earth you're on about love, i'll even be so kind as to forfeit my turn so that you choose our last game." "wow, and they say chivalry is dead?"

"mmm that one." you nodded to a shooting game in the corner you'd not yet tried, leah humming in agreement as you made your way over. "was that your stomach?" you asked in disbelief hearing a loud gurgle.

"yes! i'm fucking starving." leah moped with a huff, earning herself an unimpressed look from a mother standing at the next game with her two young kids, you smacking leah lightly and mumbling about her language.

"sorry miss." your girlfriend teased with a cocky smile as you rolled your eyes and gestured for her to take her turn. the gunner shot down 8 tin ducks out of 12 and shrugged, seemingly happy with her efforts.

"beat that, four eyes." leah smirked, flicking at your ear as you smacked away her hands and shot her a dirty look.

you only wore your glasses when you were using your laptop, reading or occasionally when teaching, and as much as leah found you utterly adorable in them the english captain also would never miss an opportunity to rib you about your poor eyesight.

"happily, noodle legs." you quipped back with a smile, grabbing the gun as leah mocked you under her breath and ordered for you to hurry up as her stomach rumbled again.

closing one eye you balanced the toy gun on your arm as the game commenced, shooting down six ducks with ease, a few more to go and you'd win still with plenty of time left to do so.

however as you placed your finger on the trigger, the timer counting down from ten, a set of hands wrapped themselves around your waist, one hand in particular slipping up the inside of your top and harshly squeezing at one of your boobs.

in shock at the unexpected touch you squeezed the trigger and dropped the toy gun, missing the ducks by a mile as the timer went off and leah's hands suddenly disappeared, your skin burning where they'd once been.

"oh that is so not fair! you. are. a. dirty. dirty. dirty. dirty. dirty. little cheat." you protested with a growl, turning on your heel to glare towards a smug looking leah, poking at her chest angrily with each word.

"i simply do not know what you're talking about gorgeous, i guess your aim was just off. and that is not my fault!" the blonde simply smiled cockily, knowing she'd now won.

though sensing your rapidly growing annoyance leah reached for your hand, pulling your body into hers and stepping the two of you in between two pinball machines, briefly tucked away from sight.

"leah catherine williamson you are an unbearably bad loser, a big child, bad mannered, short tempered and-" not even giving you the time to finish your sentence the taller girl cut you off by bringing your lips together, pressing your body against the arcade wall.

leahs hands settled themselves on your hips tucked away under her jacket you'd stolen from her earlier in the night, the defender slowly swiping her tongue against your bottom lip, taking control of the kiss as your arms wrapped around the back of her neck, tangling themselves in her recently chopped short blonde locks.

though before the two of you got any further carried away someone winning a game meant a loud siren went off behind you, the two of you jumping away from one another in shock at the abrupt noise of the machines, sharing a look before breaking out into soft laughter.

"come on hangry, lets go get you some food then." you smiled with a sigh as leahs stomach rumbled yet again, previous annoyance melting away as it always did when it came to the mischievous footballer you were head over heels for.

"no i think we should head home, i'm hungry for something else now." leah murmered quietly, thumb stroking your jaw, lips curling into a smug smile at how your cheeks flushed scarlet at her suggestive tone.

"plus i think you're due for a little outfit change baby girl. a deal's a deal and you're nothing short of a woman of your word, right?"

[gainerboyjames]

What got you into gaining?

I was into feederism since I was like 12 but was originally just into fat girls and one day wanting to be a feeder. I was relatively fit for a boy throughout my whole life up until covid when I accidentally gained some weight after stopping sports in high school.

I started smoking weed, eating tons and being so lazy. I quit all sports, quit the gym and I eventually quit going on runs after having fluctuations with my weight. I couldn’t shake off the extra quarantine pounds and I soon realised I was into being fatter. It made sense after all since I had a huge love for fat girls and feederism in general.

And since then I’ve been gaining, started posting online around the start of 2021 when I was like 180lbs and didn’t really get much attention nor was I putting on weight that much. I made a Patreon in 2022 to help fund and encourage me to gain more and I started to get more attention. I posted more on Twitter and tumblr and as my following grew, so did my belly 🤭

The past year has been the best for gaining progress and I thank my 6 months spent in Australia for that. Living away from family without a proper routine meant that I was smoking weed all day everyday and ordering takeaway basically every day too. I did some of my first irl feederism meet ups too whilst I was in Aus and it was honestly so fun and encouraging (even got to hook up with a girl who was 200kg+ 😉) and since coming back I’ve kept those unhealthy eating habits and continued to grow and grow.

Sorry for going on for so long but just felt like I should really go into my history with feederism for once 😅 hope you enjoyed reading this and getting to know me a bit better 😊

[gabessquishytum]

Dream is depressed and self destructive, so he often goes out to clubs and bars and ends up going home with shitty guys who are mean and rough and don’t treat him well.

Then one night, he makes the “mistake” of going home with Hob. And Hob keeps kissing him, and asking him how he likes to be touched and insisting on a safeword? Aftercare?? What’s that???

Hob’s big heart is immediately smitten like “oh no I need to protect this abused stray cat man”. So he makes sure that no matter how baffled Dream is by the whole experience he still has an amazing time (he actually feels better than when he hooks up with shitty guys?? Weird) so it’s easy to convince him they should meet up again.

So they do and it’s always good for both of them, and then suddenly Dream is staying the night and Hob is making him breakfast, and they’re meeting for dinner before having sex and holding hands when they walk home and Dream stops flinching when Hob comes up to wrap his arms around him from behind and he’s making Hob’s tea the way he knows he likes it when Hob has a bad day and oh my God, is he in a healthy loving relationship??

Hob just smiles and kisses his forehead.

-🦇

OH YES PLEASE. Trick Dream into having a nice soft relationship pls <333

I'm just imagining Dream sitting down with Death and he's like "my sister. I find myself confused. Am I. In a relationship with Hob? Are we blissfully happy together? Or am i merely imposing my own wants and desires onto my friendship with Hob? Does he, in fact, like me????" And Death is just gaping like "oh my god Dream yes he is in love with you YES you're in a relationship, I wouldn't be surprised if he proposes soon!!!! You're so fucking stupid!!!!!!"

And Dream goes home and points at Hob accusingly. "You. You are in love with me!"

And Hob doesn't laugh, although he wants to. He just pulls Dream in for a cuddle and kiss and takes him off to have a bubble bath until he's calmed down from feeling overwhelmed. Dream never used to let himself have bubble baths, or hugs. Hob is very good to him.

After the bath and more cuddles and a little walk around the block just to get some air, Hob tucks Dream into his lap. And Dream looks up, maybe laughing a bit.

"I think I would like to stay forever." He says. And Hob squeezes him tight.

"I was so hoping you would. Let's get a takeaway, love. And then I'll suck your cock and we'll go to bed."

and suddenly Dream doesn't want to destroy himself half as much as he used to <3

[thestralluvr]

Lars Pinfield x reader headcanons part 1

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

- he’d have the usual socials like tiktok, insta and all that but his only post is a picture of you that you absolutely hate and his following is just his friends, family and famous cats.

- he probably has another instagram account for his cat basil, a chunky tabby who he adores with his whole heart.

- taps on the possessors enclosure (the possessor taps back it’s like a weird little high five) before he leaves and at this point it’s become an instinct.

- his work space is definitely an organised mess, you’ve got no clue how his system works but he surely has one.

- you guys definitely get takeaway at LEAST once a week (especially on a friday).

- claims he doesn’t know how to flirt yet every single word that comes from his mouth leaves you BLUSHING.

- he’d never admit it to anyone but he secretly loves reality tv 😭 it has him hooked and it’s one of his favourite parts of the day when he can just unwind with you and watch shitty television.

- this man just adores you, you’ll catch him just admiring your features like you’d hung the moon and stars.

- i feel like he’s a decent cook but a terrible baker, he never fails to set off the fire alarms.

- one morning he’d tried to surprise you for your anniversary by baking you a lovely breakfast.

- it ended with the pair of you standing on the front lawn in your pyjamas waiting for the fire brigade.

- baking is now left for you and uber eats.

- this man had a hipster tumblr phase i just know it and you take every opportunity you can get to tease him on it 😭.

- i’d imagine his favourite bands would be stuff like the kinks, tears for fears, the smiths, talking heads, soft cell etc. (he’s a music nerd).

- he loves gloomy rainy days, 1 because it reminds him of his home town, 2 because it’s the PERFECTTTTT weather to snuggle under blankets with you (his favourite activity).

- maybe has a few tiny tattoos that only you’ve seen besides one.

- one night the two of you went out with a few coworkers (much to lars’ annoyance) so what better to do than take the opportunity to get pissed? makes the boring conversations less boring right?

- anyway let’s just say it was an eventful night as you’d both woken up with the wonkiest matching ghost tattoos on your wrists.

- the pair of you weren’t exactly ecstatic to find your drunken decision but hey, they didn’t get covered up. besides, it makes you think of him whenever you see it so it can’t be that bad.

- he has a tendency to run his thumb over your little ghost whenever you’re holding hands or cuddling, it’s very sweet.

- you take turns being the big and little spoon every night but basil is always the tiny spoon.

- he’s a little touch starved so he never ever takes any little touch, kiss, and caress for granted.

- speaking of kisses, ALLLLL THE KISSES!!! forehead! head! hand! eskimo! cheek! neck! this man is just so lucky to be able to kiss you he never wants to stop oml i could cry he’s just the sweetest.

- basil definitely gets many kisses too she’s very spoilt.

i hope this was decent, my first time writing for this lovely man so i hope i did okay!! lmk if you want anything in particular for the following parts through my asks or comments!! <3

[saywhatjessie]

And The Microphone Smells Like A Beer

Written for the @housemdanniversary exchange! 2.7k [Ao3] Gift for @island-ofthelost. Enjoy!

Wilson heard House’s lopsided gait approaching his office and immediately picked up a random file. He didn’t look up when the door flew open, the sound of House’s steps pausing in the doorway.

“What’s this?”

“Hmm?” Wilson said, looking up even though he knew what House would be holding. He looked at the box, anyway. It was wrapped in newspaper. A Lady Gaga article was facing up. “A present,” he answered, pretending to turn his attention back to the file.

“Presents are wrapped in shiny paper,” House said. “This is garbage.”

“I’m recycling,” he said. “You can open it before deciding it’s garbage.”

“You just told me you were recycling.”

“The paper, not the present,” Wilson rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to open it.”

House scoffed, tossing the box carelessly on Wilson’s desk. He collapsed with a grunt in the opposite chair. “You don’t want me to open it?” 

Wilson shrugged, moving his eyes back over the file he was holding like he wasn’t at all interested in this conversation. “Makes no difference to me.”

“Oh no, of course not,” House said, hooking one leg on the corner of the desk and using his hands to pull his bad leg over it. “You just got me a present and wrapped it all up because you don’t care if I open it.”

Wilson put down the file, playing up his exasperation as he looked at House. “I saw it. I thought you could use it. The wrapping, I admit, was an indulgence.” He waved vaguely at the wrapped box as if he could wipe away the transgression. “But, honestly, throw it out if you want, it doesn’t matter.”

House made a disbelieving noise before snatching the box back off of Wilson’t desk and tearing at the paper. Wilson very carefully hid his smile.

House managed to get the device out of the box without identifying it, holding it up to his face in complete confusion. 

“Is this some kind of kinky metal bit gag?”

Wilson huffed a laugh. “Do you see any kind of tightening mechanism? Shitty ineffective gag.”

House hummed, putting it over his head. Once the bar rested in front of his mouth, he figured it out.

“Oh,” he groaned, whipping it back off. “A harmonica harness?”

Wilson grinned. “So I guess it is kind of a gag, in a way.”

House scoffed, holding up the harness with disgust. “This is the dorkiest thing you could have possibly given me.”

“It’s useful,” Wilson insisted. “I’ve seen you play and you always have to take one hand off the piano to play the harmonica. Don’t you want to keep your treble hand in play?”

“‘Georgie On My Mind’ doesn’t need treble during the harmonica portion.”

“But what if I wanted you to play ‘Piano Man’?”

“I refuse to play ‘Piano Man’.”

Wilson shook his head, amused, and held up his hands in defeat. “Fine. You don’t have to use it.”

“I wasn’t going to use it.”

“Good,” Wilson smiled.

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

  House came into work with the harmonica holder around his neck, his harmonica strapped in and ready.

Wilson heard him before he saw him, standing at the nurse’s station at the clinic and glancing over the file of his next patient. He heard House coming, as he usually did, but in symphony with the usual three beat footsteps was a discordant heeee and hoooo timed with each of House’s breaths.

Wilson looked over at him, amused to see House dressed as he usually was in his sneakers, jeans, and blazer over band-tee combo, but with the shiny new harmonica harness around his neck.

“You’re looking dorky today,” Wilson greeted him.

House played a sort of ‘womp womp’ on the harmonica before pulling his mouth away and grinning.”This has made being annoying so much more efficient. I don’t even need hands.”

Wilson nodded, noting that House’s hands were otherwise occupied with his cane and a takeaway coffee. He never usually stopped for coffee on his way in. He probably wanted to test out how annoying he could be before he hard launched the harness at the hospital..

“Very efficient,” Wilson agreed, stealing House’s coffee while he was being too pleased with himself to notice. “Are you angling for something from Cuddy or is this just your usual pursuit of chaos?”

“I was going for ‘make you regret giving me this,’ but now I’m thinking I should have saved it. Do you think Cuddy would cut my clinic hours?”

Wilson sipped House’s coffee and shrugged. “Probably not just for this. It’s pretty benign, for you.”

House finally noticed Wilson stole his coffee and snatched it back. Wilson just smirked. “This is just the first phase of my irritating scheme,” House assured him, taking a spiteful sip of his own coffee. It was still too hot and Wilson enjoyed watching him pretend not to wince. “I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve.”

“I would never doubt that,” Wilson said. He tapped his clinic file on the counter then smacked House on the arm with it. “See you at lunch.”

  The next few hours passed with Wilson treating patients and people coming up to tell him about House’s latest shenanigans. And then lunch passed with House telling Wilson about his shenanigans and Wilson acting like it was the first time he was hearing them.

He laughed around a bite of his reuben. “And she just never acknowledged you?”

“She let me follow them down eight hallways. The rich donor or whatever looked back at me a lot. Which is normal! I was playing every step she took! But Cuddy pretended like she didn’t hear anything.” He grinned admiringly, stealing a chip from Wilson’s tray. “Cold-blooded bitch.”

“She probably only walked that much because she knew it would hurt you,” Wilson noted.

“Probably.” House sighed, the air blowing through his still-mounted harmonica and producing a soft note. “I will have to become even more disruptive.”

“Good God, man,” Wilson said dramatically, pausing with his drink halfway to his mouth. “A disruption? You go too far!”

“I will disrupt, I will agitate, might even do some light discombobulating.”

“Please no disturbances or I fear I may faint.”

House smirked, picking up the other half of Wilson’s sandwich and taking a bite. Some sauerkraut leaked out and dripped on his harmonica.

“That’s gonna taste like that forever, now,” Wilson commented, lightly.

House grimaced, wiping it off with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. “I eat a reuben every day. My mouth always tastes like sauerkraut.”

Wilson hummed, allowing the hyperbole. House had other harmonicas.

  Wilson’s afternoon was back-to-back patient consults, so he wasn’t privy to what disruptions House was executing. It didn’t escalate enough that anyone from House’s team saw fit to interrupt him, so it couldn’t have been that bad.

This was all but confirmed when Wilson came home to the condo that evening and House was pouting on the couch. House would take issue with the word “pouting” and it might look more like brooding or scheming to the casual observer but Wilson was a connoisseur. Sitting slumped on the couch, legs spread, idly twirling his cane in one hand was peak House pouting behavior.

“Wow,” Wilson started, tossing his keys in the bowl. He heaved a huge breath of relief as he shrugged off his jacket. “I had such a relaxing afternoon. No commotions, kerfuffles, not even a brouhaha.”

House scowled. “Shut up, you sound like a middle school vocab quiz.”

“No, seriously,” Wilson said, setting his briefcase on a kitchen island chair. “I got so much work done! My patients were comfortable, my office was orderly. Peace and love on planet earth.”

“I’m gonna piss in your desk drawer.”

“That would still only be half as annoying as you said you were going to be.”

House groaned, stilling his cane and bringing it up to butt against his forehead. “I got a case. Got distracted. It’s surprisingly interesting. But not as interesting as how much Thirteen and Chase seem to care about it.”

“So, what, you forgot to be annoying?”

“No, of course I was annoying,” House said, rolling his eyes. “It was just localized to my team. Who are practically immune.” He blew out a breath. “I could try again tomorrow but I’ll still be working on the case.”

Wilson hummed, cracking a beer and bringing another one to the couch for House. House took it, leaning a little to the side so Wilson could sit next to him. “Maybe I can bring it back later. Save it for a better time.”

Wilson scoffed, making himself comfortable. “You just got on my case for recycling.”

“It wouldn’t be recycling, it would be a callback. Self-referential humor.”

“Cliche. Not usually your style.”

“You’re right, I need way more bullhorns and whipped cream.”

“How about this,” Wilson said, leaning more of his weight against House. “You already know what’s wrong with the patient, right?”

House swiveled his head, waffling. “I have theories.”

“You know,” Wilson repeated, rolling his eyes. “You’re just playing with your food so you can watch whatever’s happening with Thirteen and Chase.”

House just took a sip of his beer, not confirming nor denying.

“I bet you you can’t last a whole day only communicating through the harmonica,” Wilson said.

House scoffed but in an interested way.

Wilson smirked. “You can still do your DDX on the whiteboard, but you can’t write or text or type or whatever to say words, you have to speak with your music.”

House rolled his eyes but took another sip of his beer, consideringly.

Wilson waited, settling back into the couch and taking a sip of his own beer.

And of course House answered how he knew he would: “You’re on.”

Wilson let himself into the Diagnostics outer office the next morning, greeting the fellows who were already there and helping himself to their coffee set up. The patient must have been stable because no one was panicking and Taub and Foreman were bickering about something outside the case. He let himself dawdle, hiding House’s mug in a lower cabinet and brewing a fresh pot. He didn’t mind waiting. Actually, waiting was kind of the point.

He was pouring himself a fresh cup in the mug that used to be Cameron’s when the ducklings all sat up a little straighter, catching the sound of House’s approach just moments before Wilson.

Not that it was hard to miss. He was breathing into the harmonica as he walked again.

Wilson smiled down at his mug as he stirred his cream in, turning and resting his ass against the counter to watch the show.

House opened the glass door, the harmonica making a kind of “hello” shaped sound as he entered.

“Oh good, we’re still doing this,” Thirteen sighed, turning back to her file.

“Patient’s responding to treatment but started presenting a rash on her pelvis,” Chase reported, unbothered.

House dropped his backpack and cane at his seat, making another sound on the harmonica that could really only be interpreted as a joke about syphilis.

“STI panel was clean,” Foreman answered. “And she’s not allergic to what we’ve given her. Which makes it a new symptom.”

House played a chord in reluctant agreement, limping over to the whiteboard and uncapping his marker.

Wilson wanted to ask him if the rash changed the diagnosis House had already come up with, but he wasn’t about to give the game away. Not when the team didn’t seem to realize what was happening yet.

House added “pelvic rash” to the list of symptoms and then “blurry vision” right below it.

“The patient hasn’t complained of blurry vision,” Taub said.

“Well, she does wear glasses,” Thirteen said.

“And she’s worn glasses since she was 10, why would this only now be a symptom?”

“She probably does need glasses, but if her vision got blurrier, she might just think she needs to change her prescription, not that it’s a new symptom.”

House played a delighted note and pointed at Thirteen.

“There’s no reason to think she has blurry vision,” Foreman argued.

“Unless you think you know what it is,” Chase said, talking to House.

House shrugged and made an ‘I don’t know’ kind of sound. Foreman sighed.

“It doesn’t hurt to check her eyes,” Thirteen offered.

House played a loud bleat of agreement. Then he pointed at Chase, pointed at Taub, played a little trill and pointed out the door.

Chase sighed, getting up, “Fine, we’ll go do an eye test.”

“We’re wasting our time,” Foreman argued.

House played a sarcastic little riff that probably amounted to ‘the patient’s not presently dying, just do the damn test,’ and Foreman scoffed and let Chase and Taub leave.

“What are we supposed to do?” Thirteen asked.

“I can answer that,” Wilson said, standing straight from his slouch.

House narrowed his eyes and played an agitated eight count. Wilson rolled his eyes at him. “You would say that.”

Thirteen looked between them, her eyes lighting with mischief. “I’m assuming we don’t think it’s cancer and you’re here about the harmonica.”

“I am,” Wilson said. “And it’s extremely telling that no one even asked about it this morning.”

Foreman shrugged. “He was messing with it all day yesterday.”

“Yes, but he hasn’t spoken.”

Wilson watched as Foreman and Thirteen blinked, looked at each other, looked at House, and smiled.

“Do you have to talk through the harmonica?” Thirteen guessed.

“Did you lose a bet or is this the bet?” Foreman asked.

“This is the bet. And I need you both to tell me if he cheats.”

House made a discordant sound of outrage, gesturing some mean stuff to Wilson.

“No typing or texting or writing stuff to communicate. The white board is fine and he can gesture,” Wilson told them, grinning at House over his coffee. “Just for today.”

“Done,” Thirteen agreed, immediately. “So do we just tail him all day or…”

“No, I'm sure there’s something doctor-y he needs you to do,” Wilson said, making his way to the door. “And while I’d love to watch him attempt to explain whatever that is, I should get back to work. Have fun, House!”

House flipped him off as he left and Wilson let himself cackle down the hallway.

  House lost, of course he lost, but Wilson had fun watching him try.

As usually happened, the case got complicated, and House couldn’t resist telling his team why they were idiots. He did make it through most of the day, though, so Wilson couldn’t gloat about his victory too much.

He could, however, hold House hostage in his victory, back at House’s old apartment, and make him play for him.

“This is humiliating,” House said, playing the opening keys to “Piano Man” on his own piano. “I’m better than this. You’re better than this.”

“Silence, music man, or there will be no bread for your jar.”

House rolled his eyes but leaned forward to play the opening harmonica. Wilson raised his beer in praise.

He sang along with House on the choruses but let House sing the verses, enjoying his rough baritone giving the song a jazzier sound. He pushed his way onto the piano bench with House, forcing House to sway with him. House shot him annoyed looks but didn’t falter on the music, even smiling at Wilson when he held up his beer to be a microphone.

House played out the song with the harmonica and piano chords at the same time and Wison went in with raucous applause.

“You’re a dork,” House told him, but his eyes were soft. He took off the harmonica harness and laid it gently on the piano. “And a terrible winner. You could have made me do this at an actual piano bar. Or at the hospital. You didn’t even take a video.”

“Why should other people get to hear you play?” Wilson said, leaning his body into House. “They didn’t win a bet. They didn’t get you a good present.”

“This is not a good present.”

“You love it.”

“I do not.”

“Yes you do – you love it and you love me.”

House sighed, bringing his arm around Wilson’s waist. “You got me there.”

Wilson hummed, leaning in to kiss House. House kissed him back hard and they very quickly got carried away.

Wilson could not be blamed: that harmonica had been hogging House’s mouth for days.

[wayfayrr]

Hello! Congratz for the 300💐! And happy holiday too!🌟

So indecisive to what to ask... the cozy of inside home or the fun outside the snow... but since it's a day to not be wasted may I get a soft buttered rum with panettone as takeaway, please?

thank you for the well wishes!! Even if it's been a little while since I got this ask lmao

but of course you may <3

“Can’t believe how hooked on the library you’ve gotten, I don’t even own a forge so I don’t know how you’re planning to use half of what you’re reading.”

“I’m just thinking about if we ever find our way back to Hyrule… learning more of your customs is fun anyway.”

Maybe I shouldn’t have pointed that out, he’s drooped a little bit but maybe I’ll be able to cheer him up. Maybe I should look more into a silver working course for him, there’s got to be something like that around here right? Even if we get on a train or drive out somewhere it’d be worth it for him. For now, though the trip to the library will have to do. Hopefully, it won’t be too difficult to get there through the snow now that I think about it. It wasn’t supposed to stick as much as it ended up, there’s at least a foot of it out there. 

“You’ve chosen one of the worst days to do this, you know right? Your coats on the hanger by the way.”

“Can’t exactly control when I need to take the books back can I, I mean unless you’d prefer to pay the late fee.”

“With how cold it’s probably going to be on the way there I’m honestly so close to just paying for a couple days of it. Couldn’t you just y’know split and send vio?”

Got rewarded with a smug grin and an elbow to the side for that. 

“Splitting for such a small task really? Anyway you’d still have to walk him there, the others too cause you know they’d get jealous.”

“Well I could always spend some time alone with them later”

“You really don’t want to go out in the snow do you.”

“No-? It’s cold. Wait what are you - OI!”

Wiping the remaining snow off of my face I could now see that his smug smirk turned into a full shit-eating grin. Perfectly fitting for the fact that he’s standing just outside with another snowball ready to go. 

“What was that for!??”

“You can’t say no to being in more snow now can you? You’re prepared for it.”

“I can absolutely say no.”

Met me with another snowball to the face. As he started to laugh and run off, like he’s taunting me to follow him. Not that it isn’t working.

“OH COME ON.”

“Come make me regret it then.”

[kaijutegu]

Proper Snake Hook Use

One of my biggest problems with reptile handling on social media is the improper use of snake hooks. We see this a lot from big names in the reptile community, and far and away the worst is Jay Brewer of The Reptile Zoo/Prehistoric Pets. A while ago, I commented on his inappropriate use of a snake hook to agitate and improperly handle a large snake, and ever since I have been looking for images that show the proper handling of a dangerous snake.

Today I saw a really good example of appropriate snake hook use from The Kentucky Reptile Zoo. KRZ is... I think it’s fair to say the most important venom facility in the United States. They actually aren’t really a zoo- the vast majority of their animals are not on display or publicly viewable, and their primary mission isn’t education or conservation. It’s venom production.

They keep lots of venomous species and regularly milk them for pharmaceuticals and research. Venom from their facility is used to make antivenom, as well as life-saving heart and anti-cancer medications. In other words, this facility bothers its snakes for a reason, and it’s not for social media views. (I like their content and find it highly educational.)

So today, I thought I’d break down why I like this video and show off how it features the safe use of a snake hook to control a dangerous animal and keep a handling situation completely under control.

The video features a small bushmaster, a South American pit viper. At the start of the video, the animal is out and quite calm.

The handler makes an initial first pass with the hook, lift the snake’s head off its body and isolating it. Notice that the snake’s body language doesn’t change much; there’s a little tension but no noticeable distress.

The snake slips away from the hook.

The handler repositions and gently pins the snake’s head against the ground.

While the snake’s head is under control, the handler firmly grips the snake behind the head...

...supports the body with his hand (not the hook)...

...and prepares the snake for venom extraction. The hook is on the floor at this point, as it’s no longer needed for the safe handling of this snake.

Here are some key takeaways:

The hook was never used as the sole source of support for the snake’s body

The hook was never used to agitate the animal

The hook was used to control the head without applying too much pressure

The snake’s body language was observed and respected; when it initially pulled away from the hook’s pass, the handler repositioned and tried again

Even during venom extraction, the snake was not particularly agitated; part of this comes from the firm, secure, but not too strong grip that is used, and part of it comes from the snake being used to this behavior. The handler is doing everything he can to keep the snake calm and to support its body during handling.

Ultimately, I think this is a perfectly ethical piece of venomous/dangerous snake handling content. It shows an animal that is being treated well and handled appropriately. The handlers are trained professionals who are well-versed in venomous snake safety, and at no point is the animal provoked or aggravated for attention. While venom extraction doesn’t hurt the snake, it can still be stressful- and it’s up to the handler to do everything they can to ensure that the snake is safe.

[satureja13]

Saiwa's Therapy Game - Part 3 It starts -> here

'It′s of a brave and a gallant ship With a fair an' a fav′ring breeze, And a goodly crew and a captain too, For to carry me over the seas. For to carry me over the seas, my boys, To my true love far away; I'm taking a trip on a Government ship Ten thousand miles away!'

10.000 Miles Away

Captain Duath sailed 10.000 miles (more or less ^^') until he found a decent remote island.

'And sing blow the winds high-o, a-roving I will go. I'll stay no more on England′s shore or to hear the music play, For I'm off on the morning train and I won′t be back again. For I'm taking a trip on a Government ship Ten thousand miles away.'

An island all for himself! THAT was his dream! Living all by himself and caring only for himself! This is a place where he can fully concentrate on his healing.

Captain Duath moored his dinghy thing and unloaded his few belongings before he explored the small island. Until he found a mailbox - and a flamingo. The label on the mailbox read: Flamingo Island... He always loved flamingos...

(TMI: I created Saiwa in November 2014 as Giga Byte for a career special where she lived as a hacker above the 'Flamin to Go' takeaway.) There also was a flamingo poster in the trailer of the StrangeTrailer Park in Strangerville which later hung in Sai and Jack's apartment at Belgraves Institute.

But a flamingo also is a bird and will remind him of their unfinished business with his damn fake relationship with Kiyoshi. Saiwa is sure that this is no coincidence. Tiny Can won't let him off the hook this easily as it seems. No matter how far he runs away from his problems.

He'll think about that later. Here ingame, he has any time in the world. First he needs a shelter and the buildmode in the Therapy Game was a joy! (Did the flamingo turn towards Sai? He seems to watch him ö.Ö')

Soon he built a little shack out of some thriftwood and stuff he found in the ocean (which was also good for the environment ^^).

To show Tiny Can that he's not just lazing around and to show his goodwill to change, he went with the Flamingo Island theme and built a flamingo patterned armchair. He even found a flamingo towel and shorts...

Saiwa was very dirty after cleaning up the ocean and he urgently needed to take a shower. He thought it's ok that he put the shower outside. The shack is already too small and no one will see him out here anyway.

'No one' was really surprised by the unexpected sight ^^'

Saiwa was hungry after all the work and so he went to catch some fresh fish. He couldn't be happier. He can eat when he wants and what he wants (as long as it's fish ^^') and no one is disturbing him here! (But maybe this island is abandoned because of the fuming vulcano that might 'disturb' him sooner or later ö.Ö')

And while he was grilling his fish, butterflies surrounded him. Just like paradise! (Can you spot all four butterflies? Minus the flying fish ^^')

Saiwa's 'bathroom' :3

While he ate and looked over the calm ocean, he thought about all the things that are stirring him up inside and keeping him from his calm and that he needs to tackle in his therapy. The leadership of the Boys, his relationship with Jeb and his friendship with Kiyoshi. A lot of 'ships'. Maybe therefore Tiny Can made him a captain ^^' And maybe the flamingo bird means he should work on his friendship with Kiyoshi and Jeb first. So they can finally go back home and try to have a halfway normal life together again.

Before he leaves the game, he laid in the sun for a while and let his thoughts flow. Will it be possible to stay the leader or will he have to give it up for his relationship with Jeb? Or will he have to give up Jeb for the Boys?There will always be situations where he will have to put the Boys over Jeb. Is it fair to keep Jeb by his side if he can't be his top priority? He hates to hurt Jeb, but it will happen again. Will there be a way to deal with it? Or would it be better if they kept their distance and Jeb found someone other than him? Who would love him like he deserves it? Jeb is too stubborn and loves Saiwa too much to break up. Even if he were unhappy.

And how are they even supposed to go back to normal? Kiyoshi, Jeb and him. After all that had happened? He had that damn fake relationship with Kiyoshi to get him out of that tree because they thought Saiwa was Kiyoshi's fated mate and now Jeb and Kiyoshi live together. And there are still all the other problems he has as their leader. That they have to stay together or armageddon, Ji Ho's lost feelings, Jack's pain because he left Kiyoshi, his real fated mate. The Council. And the sword of damokles over their heads that Ji Ho's grandfather did something that let put Ji Ho a spell on Vlad to seduce him to obtain his powers for the Council... OMG! They might be safe in the Otherworld from their enemies for now but their problems are following them whereever they go. Is it even possible to go back to the real world? (Yep, that flamingo is definitely moving! ö.ö)

'Oh, my true love she was beautiful, My true love she was young; Her eyes were like the diamonds bright And silvery was her tongue. And silvery was her tongue, my boys, As the big ship left the bay She said, will you remember me Ten thousand miles away?'

Outtakes This is so annoying that there are abandoned boats on the ocean -.-You can't put them in your inventory so I let Saiwa move it behind a rock when we started this session and now it's back again!

The Therapy Game Master Post with the sessions and places so far is -> here

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest Current Chapter: 🕹️ 'The One' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 17-22 ~ 23-28

[live-laugh-lenney]

hello !! this is a little late (dw abt it) but i can't shake the thought out of my head abt arthur birthday ,,,, spoiling him bcs he's an old man now and he deserves it! i feel like he'd like the attention and pampering esp coming from a huge family it would be nice for an entire day just for him aka arthurtv birthday blurb where (i wrote arthurtv birthday smut but ,,, that will stay in the drafts)

-🍓

yn makes the whole day about him.

she decorates his living room with numbered balloons and 'birthday boy' and 'happy birthday' banners that she hid in george's flat the day before and she hangs streamers from his ceiling and, sure, she may have gone a tad overboard on decorating his flat for the day but the look on his face when he saw the effort she put in was something she wished she pictured.

she piles up her presents for him on the kitchen table alongside a huge buffet breakfast that she surprises him with - eggs in all forms because she couldn't decide the best one, lots of toast, sausages and plenty of bacon steaming on a plate, smashed avocado in a bowl with all of his salt and pepper and different seasonings and sauces next to it, with bowls of cubed fruit and a plate piled high with thick and fluffy pancakes sitting with a candle in the middle.

she books them and their closest friends into a fancy restaurant with bottomless drinks and delicious foods, letting him have his moment with his friends as they celebrate him spending another year around the sun. and he's so thankful and surprised to have a girlfriend who organises something so loving and incredible for him.

she organises a facetime call with his family and surprises him, on call with them, that she's brought him tickets to fly home and see them for a couple of weeks and that she's been in cahoots with his family whole time so that they knew of her plans and were able to help her out... having taken care of his youtube and work schedule and letting chris and those he films with that he would be absent for two weeks so he could have some personal time off.

they end the night in his flat, inviting george and arthur and chris over for a few drinks and takeaway because he felt so exhausted and just wanted a chilled out night with those he loved and felt closest to. the boys bringing him a cake and they sing 'happy birthday' to him as he blows out the candles.

"did you have a good day?"

he nods and brings her closer to his side, her cheek flush upon his naked chest and her palm flat upon his stomach, exhaling a slow and deep breath from deep within.

"the best day," he says softly and she looks up at him, "thank you for organising everything."

"i figured that the boys will take you out this weekend for a heavy one before you go off to jersey for two weeks so i thought that we could celebrate slowly today," she admits and presses a kiss to his cheek, "i'm glad you enjoyed it though."

"you did good," he claims and looks at her with darkened eyes, "but you know what would make it even better?"

"one step ahead of you," she grins widely and she hooks a leg over his waist and straddles his hips, hands on his shoulders as she braces her weight upon him and she can see the blush on his cheeks begin to form, "just sit back, let me do all the work tonight." xx

[strafepanzer]

haze | h.shinsou

▸ ▸ ▸ warnings: mentions of shinbaku, fwb shinsou x fem!reader, no naughty stuff but 18+ conversation nevertheless, implied quirk usage

▸ ▸ ▸ word count: drabble-sized

▸ ▸ ▸ a/n: playing with blog formatting and inserting into shinbaku. more to come probably! no edits

The smell of his favourite brew and the soft jazz wafting from the speakers make Shinsou feel somewhat at peace. Despite the time of night, you've agreed to meet him at your usual hangout: the cafe across the road from the apartment building you both live in-- neighbours, nothing more.

Never anything more. Not really.

You're in pyjamas: a worn gudetama set that he knows is soft as shit, a cardigan for warmth, and socks and slides. Cute, honestly. Any other occasion he'd make a joke at your expense, but it's 10pm and he did only text you 39 minutes ago to see if you were available.

It was a shit shift, but you seem to understand that he doesn't wanna unpack it, content just to be there with him, passively enabling his caffeine addiction.

Rather than being on him, however, your attention is on the TV mounted from the ceiling near the counter. It's muted, but there's no doubting the hero flinging himself through the sky in a series of explosions and a blur of black and orange, and there's no mistaking the stars in your eyes.

"You got a crush?" He asks, popping the lid from his takeaway cappuccino and licking at the chocolate sprinked froth.

"Huh? No!" You laugh, eyeing Shinsou off as he replaces the lid.

But there's a flush there, an embarrassment that wouldn't be there if he were wrong.

"You do, though. I can always tell." He teases, but he's right. He knew when you had the hots for the new barista 6 months ago, and he guessed about that hopeless crush you had on your tutor in college when the two of you ran into him at that bar last year.

"Doesn't matter. That guy is way outta my league." You sigh wistfully, eyeing the television longingly.

Shinsou snorts. "Bakugo?"

"No, his dad." You roll your eyes.

Shinsou chuckles, "he's not, though? I feel like people put that asshole up on a pedestal too much. He's just a dude."

A very hot, very famous pro-hero who Shinsou sometimes crosses paths with.

You give him a look and take a sip of your drink before placing it on the table. "What are you not telling me?" You narrow your eyes before your voice lowers conspiratorially. "Did you fuck him?"

Shinsou loves how fast your brain works. "Maybe he fucked me."

Your eyes light up. "Oh my god, I've indirectly slept with him?"

"Okay, this is beginning to hurt my ego."

You snort, an action Shinsou is absolutely smitten with. "I'm torn between wanting to know all of the juicy details, being jealous, and being mad you didn't tell me sooner."

"You don't tell me every person you sleep with." He shrugs, pulling a melodramatic gasp from your pretty lips.

"I do!" You're offended, brows pulling together and eyes wide. "You're the only person I've slept with in two years."

He blinks. This is... a surprising turn of events. That's as long as you've been hooking up.

Your fingers idly play with the condensation dripping from your drink, eyes downcast. He's hurt your feelings, and that hurts his. He's torn between smoothing it over and over-explaining, his too-tired-yet-wired brain jumping from A to B and back to A faster than he can actually compute.

Sometimes he forgets people aren't as free with their sexuality as he is.

"It..." he starts, growing frustrated with himself. "It happened twice. I don't think there was any reason, he didn't seek me out the first time or anything. And it's just sex, honest."

This isn't what he planned to talk to you about. In fact, he was sure he never wanted to tell you about the two of them ever, but his brain and mouth are clearly at war.

When he cautions a glance up at you, you meet his eyes with furrowed brows. He lets you process, feels that fast brain of yours tick, tick, ticking. But you dont say anything; no jests, no jokes, no cheeky predictions.

"I didn't ask you here to talk about Bakugo," he begins, trying to lighten the mood a little. "I just wanted to hang out. Sorry."

"You don't need to apologise, it's not like we're exclusive." You mumble just loud enough for him to hear. "You... like him, then?"

If it were socially acceptable to cackle like the witch from HR Puffinstuff, he would. "Like him? Babe, you meet him once, and I promise that little crush you have on him will fizzle away to nothingness."

"Mean!"

"He is! Extremely so!"

There's a soft smile on your face now, and it calms Shinsou some; he takes a drink from his coffee, savouring the bitterness as washes over his tongue.

There's a comfortable silence that follows, the kind that usually occupies the two of you in his lounge room as you both scroll on your phones and half watch shitty Netflix shows. It's crazy to him that you've hidden your crush on Bakugo so damn well, then again, he hadn't quite been forthcoming with his connection to the pro-hero.

A few moments pass, and you're slurping the last of your drink through the straw, shaking the ice around and tilting the cup so you can get the dregs.

"Is he bi?" You ask, trying to sound casual. Trying.

His interest is piqued, nonetheless. "I'm sorry?"

"I mean, I know I'm convenient, and you're up for anything, but does he exclusively sleep with men?"

Wow, okay, a lot to unpack there, but he explains: "I don't think he does, but the stuff we do might not be up your alley, sweetheart."

"I can--" you begin, too loudly. "I can do butt stuff, Hitoshi." You level with him seriously, voice lowered.

He can't help the hyena-esque howl that bubbles up his throat. "This is not a conversation for here." He spares a glance over your shoulder to the barista fussing about with the coffee grinder behind the counter.

You follow his line of sight, before your large, hopeful eyes are once again on him. "Can I come over?" You whisper, before taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

He's once again torn, mind not knowing where to latch: your teeth in your lip, the "butt stuff" comment, you practically calling him a slut.

The possibility of explaining the ins and outs of how Bakugo begs Shinsou to use his quirk on him.

Heavy lidded eyes drop down to your chest, tits pushed together as you lean against the tabletop to be a little closer to him. "Yeah, you're coming over."

[chiefdirector]

Listening | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Act One | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 | Chapter 23 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 25

(Y/N) nursed a coffee that had turned cold hours ago as she watched the screens before here intently, waiting for anything to happen. It had been hours since she had placed the bug in Sullivan's home but he had not done anything at all except watch reruns of crappy old sitcoms.

The room she was hooked up in was small and dark, so much so she felt like she could drift off to sleep any moment now. Groaning, she leaned back in her chair, sliding the headphones down to rest on her neck. Her back popped as she stretched, releasing tension that had been sitting there for hours. She stayed in that stretched out position for a few fleeting moments, shooting back up again when she heard the door open.

"Hey, hey, hey." She said, trying to seem a bit more collected than she felt.

"Hi." Chen smiled as stuck her head around the door, keeping the rest of her body hidden. "Is now a good time to talk?"

"Only is you brought me a-"

"Coffee?" Chen moved into the small room, presenting (Y/N) with a takeaway coffee cup, passing it over when the detective started making grabby hands. "I learn quickly."

"You're my favourite." She smiled into her coffee, blowing on it before taking a sip. "This is amazing. You're amazing. But what can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if you could show me how all this works, Tim is in court and it's either this or desk duty with Smitty."

(Y/N) nodded, gesturing for Lucy to pull up a chair beside her. She leaned over to the drawers beside her, pulling out a spare headset and plugging it in. "Put this on. All we need to do is listen, see if he says anything of interest that we can link back to Dyer."

Lucy hummed as she donned the headset, watching as (Y/N) shuffled through the computer screens in front of her. The two sat in silence for nearly an hour, listening to the tape until Chen all but slammed her headset down onto the hardwood desk in front of her.

"You okay?" (Y/N) asked, gently placing her own headphones down next to Lucy's.

"This is stupid, this can't be all there is to do." She ranted, running a hand over her head. "Rosalind would know that we were listening. It feels like we are running around doing exactly what she expects. Surely, you agree?"

"Yeah, I do. But nobody will warrant any other action at this time. Until we get permission from Grey, or someone higher, we can't take any official action." (Y/N) softly said, placing her hand on Lucy's shoulder, checking her watch as she moved. "Look, it's near the end of shift. I'm going to head off, you should too. Go home; eat, sleep. Come back here tomorrow. We can talk more then... see if any better ideas come to us."

(Y/N) watched as Chen nodded, leaving to hopefully go back to the locker room. Once the door shut behind her, she reached for her phone. Chen was right, they were not going to make any progress. Rosalind Dyer was playing chess and they were playing checkers. They had to meet her on a more even ground, one where Rosalind wouldn't expect them to be.

-

The sun hadn't even begun to rise when (Y/N) carefully removed herself from Tim's sleepy grip, silently getting herself ready for the day. She moved through the house with the stealth of an black ops agent, trying not to wake Kujo as she left, grabbing a large grey duffle bag from the office before leaving and shutting the door behind her. She had left the house as if nothing had been disturbed, everything was in its place.

As she slotted the key into the door, turning the lock shut, she let out a silent breath of relief that she had managed to leave undetected. She took a moment to collect herself, focussing her thoughts on what had to be done, before getting into her car, tossing her bag onto the backseat and pulling out of the driveway.

Even in the midst of nightfall, the streets and freeways of Los Angeles were mayhem to navigate; there was traffic from every given angle, drivers swearing at each other and barely anyone obeying traffic laws. (Y/N) paid no mind to the minor law infringements she saw, she had no time to pull these drivers over only to give them a fine. Dayshift would pick up any slack she left behind.

As traffic began to slow down to another standstill, (Y/N) pulled her phone from her pocket before turning it off and throwing it in the back alongside her duffle bag. She then leaned across the passigner chair to the glovebox where she pulled out a burner phone, an old Nokia she still had stashed away when she had returned to work. She shoved it in the pocket where she had pulled her phone from before turning into the Union Station parking lot.

Throwing her coat on, she got out of the car, locking it before placing the key on top of the back left wheel. She checked her pockets for everything she would need, her badge, her wallet, and a packet of gum as she walked towards the bus terminal.

-

The dark walls seemed to impose on (Y/N), as if they were squeezing her, taking away the very oxygen in her lungs. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that she was fine and the walls were not, in fact, compressing her. Still, even with that knowledge, she hardly felt safe; the nonchalant attitude of the guard escorting her and the angry roar of inmates who recognised someone foreign to them were hardly reassuring.

Nonetheless, (Y/N) held her head high, not letting her lack of confidence show as the guard finally escorted her into the most easterly wing of the prison. It was one of the most secluded areas of the entire facility and yet it was the most sterile looking. It reminded her of a hospital straight from a horror movie.

The walls stood tall, the bright white paint giving the illusion that the corridor was light and airy. The luminescent lights shone down from the ceiling, causing (Y/N) to wince from the sheer amount of light that gave off. The image of a hospital ward was only fended off by the heavy metal doors aligning the corridor, each one marking an entrance to a cell which held some of California's most terrifying inmates. Kidnappers, war criminals, people involved with terror plots, and serial killers. Those heavy metal doors didn't let (Y/N) forget where she was or why she was here.

"You know the rules right?" The guard grunted, pushing his overgrown hair from his face. As he stopped outside one of the cells "No touching, no provoking, no transfer of contraband. If the inmate attacks-"

"Attempt to restrain the prisoner, and use suitable force if required. Yell for help. I know." Bradford finished as she watched the guard huff before he started to unlock the cell door.

@xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @rookietrek @hufflepuffwhore13 @tessalynni @anaferreira-4 @starstruckchopshoptyphoon

25 | 27

[o-uncle-newt]

ONE: it creates traditions

Despite not being a Christmas-celebrator myself, I'm really glad that the final episode of this show aired as a Christmas special, because it's equally timely to talk about Molokai.

I wrote extensively about Molokai last year, and my main takeaway is that it celebrates ritual in a way that's really important. And I was thinking about it, and so many of the themes that I elevated in previous posts I've done this year are related to this as well. It's important to how funny the show is, how heartwarming the show is, how good the show is for mental health... so many different things.

I recommend reading the above post for a full breakdown, but what I raised about Molokai was that it's basically about the importance of creating and/or participating in rituals and traditions, things that mark your life and add pizzazz to it. Martin, living a depressing life on his own in an attic, has no reason to like Christmas when it's just another dull day, but enjoys it when he's exposed to and participates in ritual. Arthur, it turns out, creates ritual all the time, whether invoking existing traditions re Christmas or creating rituals around things like Birling Day.

I argue, pushing that further, that CABIN PRESSURE is about creating a kind of comforting ritual, tradition, what have you. Don't get me wrong- the comedy is often sharp and creative, there's story and character development over time... but it's not so much that the shape of the show is familiar as that the expectations are. This is going to be funny, this is going to have interesting people, this is going to let those interesting people be comically nasty to each other but also let them have real relatable emotions, and at the end of the episode GERTI will fly again.

There's also the repetitive element of features like games, particular character mannerisms, etc. One of my favorite sitcoms, the 60s spy spoof Get Smart, was written with the main character, Maxwell Smart (Agent 86) given many catchphrases, and the actor who played him actively encouraged the writers to create more because having those kinds of repetitive and funny elements is a good hook and a comforting element to viewers. They ended up being some of the most iconic parts of the show, not just because the lines are funny but because of the way they're said by Max/Adams and the way the character who says them is written. Plenty of Get Smart fans can be caught saying "missed it by that much" or "sorry about that Chief" or, my favorite that I say all the time, "he should have used his powers for niceness instead of evil."

The characters of Cabin Pressure don't have catchphrases in the same way- or rather, it's limited to things like "brilliant" and "yellow car"- but it contains so many different elements that listeners can count on in an episode. If the whiskey is stolen, obviously Douglas did it and the question (which will be answered creatively) is how. If this is a situation where Douglas can save the day, he will- and if he doesn't, then there will be a satisfying reason why. People won't recognize Martin as captain- and if they do then that's a sign that something is off kilter. JF creates the boundaries of the world that we step into and then plays within and around them in incredibly innovative ways. It's such a good formula for keeping things interesting and comforting.

And here's where I go to praise JF as the creator- because he ended up taking on an interesting form of commitment to create ritual in our own lives, maybe because he saw how much we'd already done it ourselves. Thanks to the show, already as of S4 people were taking traveling lemons to different locations, playing Yellow Car by Arthurian rules... and then, he started posting a variation on Get Dressed Ye Merry Gentlemen every year, and as a decidedly non-Christmas person it's basically the only thing about the holiday that I look forward to. (Incidentally- one of the things that made me want to post about this is my curiosity what he'll do this year when he's no longer on Twitter...)

But the biggest ritual-creating thing he did, of course, is do 26 episodes of Cabin Fever. He posted the episodes on a regular schedule (and warned us in advance when he started spacing them out), he gave us games to try and puzzles to solve, and he gave us something to look forward to that would add some fun and shape to our lives in a time that could be both shapeless and stressful. I myself was still recovering from my very early bout of COVID, isolated in my room, bored and miserable and not at full breathing capacity and still only getting over the feeling that I could have potentially died, when Cabin Fever arrived and gave me something to look forward to. It created ritual, which created meaning, which was one of the most thoughtful things someone could have done for me around then.

So, a tribute to Cabin Pressure, a tribute to the wonderful John Finnemore, a tribute to the idea that we can take our own action and join with others to create ritual that gives us meaning and comfort... and a tribute to all of you who have been doing/following along with Cabin Pressure advent in various forms. This too is a form of ritual, community, and tradition that I look forward to continuing to participate in- as part of a really cool fandom.

In the meanwhile, happy tenth freaking anniversary, Merry Christmas to all the Christmas people, almost-Happy Chanukah to all the (fellow) Chanukah people, and just generally wishing a beautiful year full of things that give your life shape and meaning.

[itsclydebitches]

Have you seen the posts going around saying shit like "If a mutual likes Hazbin Hotel I will block them"?? It's genuinely upsetting me tbh, not just the idea that people don't like the show, but that they despise it so much they can't even stand the thought of someone they know liking the show. It reminds me of the Steven Universe hate train only worse. They also say shit like "the show is just someone saying swear words and expecting you to laugh", and if for a second we put aside the fact that that is blatantly not true, what's wrong with that? I'm allowed to like something that's a bit trash, right? I've already seen two different people I follow reblog posts to that effect (and worse, someone saying all a character boils down to is "i love being sexually abused <3" and i don't know how they ever came to that conclusion) and it's driving me mad. And somehow I just know that they don't actually give a shit about any "controversies" surrounding vivziepop, that's just a convenient excuse for most of them. I don't even care if Vivzie is a bad person, that's none of my business. just live and let live, you know?

Sorry for ranting, you're literally the only blog i follow who posts Hazbin fan content

Rant away, friend! Luckily for me I haven't come across any of those posts yet. Plenty of discourse surrounding whether fans are allowed to make romantic and/or sexual content for Alastor, the expected shipping wars, and - as you say - vague references to Vivzie controversies (which I'm too new a fan to even be aware of yet)... but nothing that's a complete rejection of the show itself. That's probably because I've only engaged with blogs posting a lot of Hazbin content though.

I'm a big fan of old school Internet rules which includes an emphasis on cultivating your own online space. You know, the thing tumblr is explicitly designed for. So in theory I applaud anyone blocking users/tags for a show they're not a fan of. Performatively posting about it more as a way to guilt others for liking Hazbin at all... not so much. If you want to block something just block it. If you're mutuals with someone you both presumably like each others' content. Not all of it necessarily, but enough to have followed in the first place, and often being mutuals for long enough leads to friendship because you're both getting interacting with one another a lot. All of which isn't to say that people don't unfollow mutuals, or that you can't drop a mutual because they've started posting something you dislike. Obviously both situations do happen, but it feels like an extreme enough response that these posters probably aren't actually doing this very often. Most people will wait the mutual out until their interest gets hooked on something new, or block the Hazbin tag and keep the friend, or just block without making a big announcement about it. So posts like that feel more like a way to show off how much you dislike the show and guilt others for their enjoyment which yeah, can be upsetting to see. Especially when, as you say, it costs nothing to just let people like things.

Which might sound hypocritical on my part given my RWBY interests, but I think there's a big difference between critically examining a show while supporting others who genuinely love it, and simplistically blasting it. I COMPLETELY get why Hazbin wouldn't be to everyone's tastes and, like with the SU example, anything that gets popular enough is going to develop its haters (especially cartoons trying to tackle non-childish subjects. That's always going to be a fandom landmine). But if you're going to make claims about a show, at least watch it to ensure you can back up your stance? And if your takeaway is still, "This is the worst fucking thing I've ever watched"... cool. Go forth and write about that on your own, personal blog. But no one should be surprised when they're also blocked for bragging about how many Hazbin fans they've blocked.

[frigid666]

pls STOPPPP with all these corny "won't somebody pls think of white women??" bullshit posts. like actually, we do have to think too much about u guys as is bc some of u are legitimately some of the most unpleasant, selfish, self-centered, narrow-minded, disloyal people there are, and u refuse to self-reflect on why most (leftist) black and brown people don't trust u and don't feel compelled to include u "enough" for ur sensibilities. frankly, u STILL have not shown urselves collectively to be reliable allies to anyone who isn't one another. half of u guys voted for trump ffs - a fact u all continue to obfuscate by pointing fingers at other people about how they voted (or failed to do so).

this is all especially hypocritical coming from white radfems, who have shown 0 interest in adopting true intersectional values. u purposefully isolate urselves from other progressive efforts and then wonder why radical feminism is basically dead, mostly comprised of bitter recluses, why many "gender criticals" end up being shitty conservatives. it's just not enough to blindly praise some east asian women for 4b or invoke black american women's trauma whenever some dumb (and usually white) trans person equates them to men. just look at how many intersectional feminism reading rec posts on radblr are FULL of broken links and nobody points it out bc nobody is actually clicking on them; it's all for show and virtue signaling bc u guys are tired of leftists (sometimes rightly) accusing u all of exclusivity and racism. like the ever-present female separatism debate tells me most of u guys have never actually read anything by bell hooks, a name that is popular to invoke as proof that 2nd wave feminism is race-inclusive.

it's rich that one of these pity-white-women posts is circulating at the same time that this horrid poll is going around:

and the replies that have gotten the most attention from radblr users are about expressing indignation that someone stupidly equated "terfs" to neo-nazis and creating hypotheticals about "u guys would forgive neo-nazis but not terfs 😡," which while true, very much should not be the main takeaway... why not interact with the insightful commentary from black women in those same notes/reblogs? right, bc radblr is nothing more than a reactionary space, and it's more important to get pissed off over stupid shit and "own the trans/smug leftists" than anything else.