#t4 is back

[pernillecfcw]

T4 are back 🥹💙

[nihilismtrcit]

🌷

[driftsixfour]

guys I fumbled the bag (had a shit race) on stream :(

[bobbile-blog]

Haven't seen anyone talking about this but at the beginning of the month they kinda shadowdropped a pretty big progression boost for new players with IS3 memory mapping. Because you get four T4 chips and two chip catalysts from each mission reward, and you can access both the IS2 and IS3 monthly squads, you now theoretically have access to enough resources to promote an operator of every class without having to clear the second set of chip stages. It lets you fast-track a few ops, makes those second chip stages much easier, and you only have to make it to the start of floor 3 so you don't even have to fight a boss to get them. Good stuff all around!

[kazamajun]

One thing I've noticed in videogame fandoms/culture is how games that were panned at the time, often become very beloved years later. MGS2 is probably the biggest example of this, I remember the flood of complaints from people who felt bait-and-switch'd that you play as Raiden and not Solid Snake for the majority of it, and about Raiden + Rose as characters etc, but now it's spoken of way more kindly.

And I've been seeing the exact same thing happening with Tekken 4 in recent years. The majority of the FGC esp those into competitive play absolutely hated T4 on its release for the clunk, for the introduction of walls + wall infinites, how busted Jin's parry and just frame laser scraper was etc. And of course the mockery around the Steve/Dean Earwicker thing. I have memories of all of this and more, and of hearing about how so many people ignored T4 in favour of going back to TTT (I remember being told about how hard it apparently flopped in arcades + with high level players in Korea, especially). By the community in general, the advancements it made were considered huge and unwanted missteps. I don't know if it's nostalgia now, or if T4 was perhaps a lot of the current playerbase's introduction to the games, but the discourse around it has definitely changed for the positive in more recent times.

And you know what? I'm okay with that. As someone who was a big T4 gameplay hater (I loved the intro and Kaz's return and the story art), the series has definitely improved on concepts that 4 introduced, and T4 had a gritty tone and aesthetics that are in hindsight fun to consider in its niche as a product of its time and what games were like in that era.

[leontheluxuriousone]

T4S pt. 2

Next Masterpost Prev

finally, I had the motivation to finish pt. 2! I’m very sorry for the long wait :(

I’ll try and work on the next part as soon as possible

I think I did a ok job at this. And finally y’all get to see the loving father, TB!!

[classicjdog]

CURSE MY FUCKING SHITARSE INTERNET I JUST WANT TO PLAY SOME FUCKING TEKKEN GAAAAHHHHHHHH

REINA IS SO FUCKING SICK AND I CAN'T PLAY HER AGAINST REAL PPL I'M STUCK FIGHTING THE STUPID AI FUCK

[risingsunresistance]

finally killed a t2 blaze. impressive i know 😎

[37-children-of-the-dreams]

Zenless Zone Zero Tier List Based On The Agent's Families

This is based on whether the current agents are orphans or if they're not orphans. Feel free to say there's a chance I'm wrong.

Tier 1 (Not Orphans): 1. Miyabi still has her father. 2 Lucy, Rina, and Zhu Yuan still have their parents (even if Lucy is estranged from her parents). 3. Seth is currently the only male with both parents.

Tier 2 (Orphan): 1. Soukaku may have been adopted by Yanagi, but only as her sister, not daughter, and her bio family died during the war. 2. Caesar's parents died when she was a child leaving her to be raised by Big Daddy. 3. Grace lost her parents in Hollow incidents. 4. Koleda's mom died when she was young and Khors got murdered (oof). 5. We saw Nekomata's adopted dad turn into an Ethereal, nuff said. 6. Nicole was an orphan but then got adopted, but then she ran away, which might mean she's back to being an orphan? IDK.

Tier 3 (Possibly an orphan): 1. Belle and WIse never say anything about their bio family, only their mother figure who is currently missing. 2. Harumasa was abandoned by his bio family with no idea what happened to them, and then he had to put down his adopted father (oof). 3. The devs kinda retcon giving Lighter a last name (it was originally Lorenz from the leaks) and I am scared to know why after knowing Lighter's backstory. 4. Lycaon's past only showed his ex and the place they used to live, and he doesn't say anything about his bio family. 5. Considering Anby was found by Nicole in a dangerous area with no idea of her past, and S11 often goes on dangerous missions, they're probably orphans (I think these two are also sisters, but like their parents have to be dead for them to go off on life or death missions).

Tier 4 (Where are the relatives?): 1. Piper, Corin, and Ellen have been mentioned as having family, so where are they? 2. Jane is a secret agent, so no info on her family, but we don't know if she's an orphan. 3. Burnice, Ben, and Anton haven't said anything about their families, but we can't count out that they possibly have family members. 4. I didn't know how to get a character between tiers (T4 and T3) because Yanagi probably has family other than Soukaku, but she's also a former soldier from possibly the Obsidian Division (S11's Division) so she might not have one.

Tier 5 (Can they have parents?): Since both Billy and Qingyi are Intelligent Constructs, can they even have parents? Do creators even count as parents? Qingyi possibly had a creator, but we don't know. Actually, Billy doesn't even remember his creators... (Damn, Billy might be an orphan).

Tier 6 (Upcoming Agents): Both Astra and Evelyn are upcoming agents, so we have no info on their families as of now.

I probably will create another one when 2.0 or 2.4 drops because then there will be new characters as well as updated family history.

[pernillecfcw]

We feel the same Millie can’t wait to have Sammy back 🥹💙

[lsunstreakerl]

in SH, does Charles have bad days? like, days where he's MUCH more clingy, afraid of abandonment?

yes! it's pretty much a given, but I realize I haven't written a whole lot of that, so I've got about 2.4k worth of little snapshot moments here from the SH verse! (remember when I was afraid to write charles POV? we've come a long way)

It's getting late in the season. Charles is on track for another championship- his second.

He should be training, doing sim laps, working out.

Instead, he's still in bed, watching Max.

Max, who's still asleep, cheek pressed into the pillow. He'll occasionally get up and workout with Charles, but Charles has a feeling it's less about the workout and more about spending time with him.

It doesn't feel right, not seeing Max on the grid. There's no #33, and Charles refuses to run #1, not when there's still fans in the stand wearing it proudly, even without Max.

There's fan-made Ferrari merch for him with the number, but Charles can't bring himself to do it. It still doesn't feel like it belongs to him.

It belongs to Max. Maybe not the Max currently sleeping in his bed, but Redbull's Max, a larger than life figure, a pinnacle of the sport.

Charles brushes his fingers lightly across the bridge of Max's nose. He never knows if it will be a good-sight day or a bad-sight day until Max wakes up. Some of their worse days he knows, because Max is in pain even in his sleep, but this morning he looks alright, features softer when he isn't awake.

Charles swallows, settling back down under the duvet, gingerly tucking himself back around Max.

He has things to do today, but-

They can wait.

------

Charles is flying, hits a perfect line through T4, the track lights flashing above him. He loves night racing- the blur of the lights, the way everything flashes by- it's an adrenaline shot straight to the heart, reminds him why he loves the sport.

Carlos is behind him, sandwiching Oscar in a Ferrari sandwich, and Max is up ahead, battling for first with Lando.

Lando's putting up a good fight, but he doesn't have what it takes, not with Max. He's not willing to really fight for it, doesn't know what it means to scrabble for the top and keep it. This season is teaching him, but it won't be enough to win.

They're still closer than Charles would expect- he has to wonder if Redbull is having a mechanical problem, because it almost seems like he's missing the racing line.

But it's Max, so it's much more likely that something is wrong with the car.

The two of them disappear around the bend for a moment, and Charles gets distracted shutting the door on Oscar's face, and then-

'Red flag, debris ahead of you, back to pits.'

His throat squeezes. Debris ahead of him- it's either Max, Lando, or both. He doubts it was one of the backmarkers, they're not far enough into the race for that kind of traffic.

He slows, catches Oscar and Carlos in his mirrors doing the same, and he knows not to look, but-

Lando is ahead of them, car undamaged, and there's pieces of a Redbull across the track, buried into the wall.

His hands are shaking, eyes frantically tracking the rubble for movement, trying to find the cockpit-

There's marshalls sprinting to the wreckage, and Charles is getting tunnel vision, blurry at the edges.

No.

Not again, not again, not again-

Charles is sweating as he shoots awake, bile rising in his throat as he swings his legs off of the bed, darting into their bathroom. He barely makes it in time, hurling into the toilet as his fingers shake, tears in his eyes.

There's a noise from the bed, and then soft footsteps.

"What the- Charles?"

He makes a pathetic noise as he gags, spitting into the water. Max kneels down next to him, carding a hand through his hair, damp with sweat.

"Hey, you are- it's okay, you're okay. Breathe, Charlie, come on, you're going to be alright."

Charles takes in a strangled inhale.

"Max-"

He can't even see through the tears, fingers gripping at Max's shirt and sweatpants, pulling him close where Charles can wrap his arms around him, feel him breathing with him.

Max is here. He's here, and he's warm, and he's alive. Charles still has him, breathing between his arms.

"Charles, baby, what...?"

Charles grips him tighter. He feels like a leaf in a storm, shaky breathes compared to Max's steady ones.

"You were- it was a night race, and you-"

Max has one hand curled at the back of Charles' head, the other running up and down his back in slow strokes.

"Did I crash?"

Charles squeezes his eyes shut, nodding.

Max tugs him practically into his lap, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

"It isn't real, I promise. It did not happen, Charles. We caught it, and I am okay, and I'm right here."

Charles is still holding him tight, and his knuckles are probably white where he's gripping onto the fabric of Max's clothes, and he chokes on his words, pressing closer.

"You can't- you can't leave me Max, you can't, I won't survive it."

He presses his lips to Max's neck, his warm skin, feels the beat of his pulse.

"I need you, I wouldn't know what to do without you- I am-"

Max shushes him gently, running his fingers through Charles' hair.

"I'm not going anywhere. I will not leave you, I promise."

He can't promise that, and Charles knows it, but the words help him feel better all the same.

He tries to match Max's breathing, steadying his own as he starts to settle down.

His mouth tastes gross, and he's coated in sweat, rapidly cooling on his skin.

"Eugh."

Max makes a soft noise, sliding his hand down the side of Charles' face, holding his jaw as he leans back, blue eyes intense.

"Charles, I am right here. You see that, yes? I am not going anywhere."

Charles brings his own hand up, shaking fingers resting on top of Max's wrist.

"I see you."

Max gives him a soft smile. His eyes are watering, and Charles realizes this is how Max must feel, when Charles helps him through a breakdown- there's so much love in his eyes, but there's an unshakable sadness as well.

"You would have to try very hard to get rid of me now. I have been told I am very stubborn."

Charles tries for a watery grin, matching Max's own.

"I have no idea who could have said that to you."

Max leans forward, pressing their foreheads together, and Charles lets his eyes shut for a moment.

They'll be alright.

He leans back, meeting Max's eyes.

"I need a shower."

Max quirks an eyebrow, smile tugging at his mouth.

"That of course needs to be a team effort."

Charles squeezes their fingers together.

"Obviously."

------

Charles isn't sure what's going on with him today- he's been twitchy and neurotic, and he's pacing the factory break room.

Lewis eyes him from the table.

"Charles, man, go home. We don't even need to be at the next meeting, Fred said it was fine to leave."

Charles sends him a halfhearted glare.

"You are staying."

Lewis holds up his hands.

"Because I don't know Ferrari's media protocol front to back. I'm going to assume that you do, considering how long you've been here."

He has a point, but Charles doesn't want to hear "Lewis" and "point" anywhere near each other right now- his WDC feels more like a brand than anything, a heavy weight resting on his shoulders.

Lewis sighs, delivering the final nail in the coffin.

"You're stressing out all the factory employees."

Charles cringes. He's developed a bit of a reputation, when he's upset. He shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Fine. But not because you suggested it."

Lewis makes a face.

"Right. Of course not."

------

Charles is not any better as he's leaving- he feels frazzled, keeps dragging a hand through his hair, checking and rechecking his bags and pockets.

Being able to go home on AirMax is nice though.

Boyfriend perks.

He says hello to the crew, buckles in for taxiing and takeoff, already counting down the minutes until he's home, able to see Max and the pets.

Once the seatbelt sign is off, he makes his way to the small cabin in the back- there's a bed tucked away, and a small closet, and if he's lucky...

There's an obnoxiously orange hoodie hanging in the closet, and Charles pulls it down, yanking off his own jacket, pulling the hoodie over his head.

It's well worn and soft, and it smells like Max- the comforting blend of his cologne and his shampoo. Charles kicks his shoes off, curling up in the middle of the bed, on top of the duvet.

He pulls the hood up, tucking his nose under the collar. He doesn't know what's wrong with him today.

His throat is tight, and his eyes are wet as he fumbles with his phone, finding Max's contact. He just-

He needs to hear him.

It rings twice.

"Charles?"

"Max."

Charles' voice comes out soft, longing in a way he doesn't usually allow himself. He and Max have somewhat delicately navigated the racing/not racing dynamic, but it still feels like a minefield occasionally.

"Did you get out of your meeting early? I got a notification that AirMax took off."

Charles snorts.

"I still cannot believe you named your plane after you."

Max sighs, drawn out and crackling over the phones speakers, and Charles immediately starts giggling, because they've had this conversation a thousand times.

"It was a joke-"

"Sure it was-"

Another loud sigh, and Max is definitely playing it up on purpose. He has a sixth sense for being able to tell when Charles isn't feeling well, even over the phone.

At some point they both fall into silence. Charles is curling a hoodie string around his finger.

"Charles."

He frowns, even if Max can't see it.

"Nothing's wrong."

"I did not say anything was. I am just wondering how you are doing."

Charles makes a soft noise, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.

"I don't know- I am all fucked up and freaking out, and I don't even know why."

"But you are coming home."

"Well, yes. Obviously."

"So we will fix it. There does not always need to be a reason to be anxious. But I think maybe seeing me and the pets will help. We can even watch one of your dumb French shows."

There's a smile tugging at his lips.

"You hate my dumb French shows."

"But you don't, so we will watch them and I will try to only complain once an episode."

Charles' throat has loosened up, and his thoughts are starting to slow.

"Max?"

"Yes?"

Charles pauses for a moment. There's not words for the weight of what he's feeling, the way he feels about Max.

"I love you."

"I love you also."

------

"Is Max okay?"

Lando stares at him incredulously.

"Mate, I said McLaren hospitality was on fire, not Ferrari."

Charles frowns, already walking in the hospitalities direction.

"Yes, I heard you the first time, but they are right next to each other, so-"

Lando makes a strangled noise, whacking his shoulder.

"Leclerc, I am wearing one shoe! One! Shoe! And you're worried about Max?"

Charles rolls his eyes.

"I am always worried about Max, it is part of being boyfriends. You would know, if you ever got your shit together with Carlos."

"I have one shoe, and you're making fun of me. Does Ferrari teach classes on that? Is it titled 'how to kick a man when he's down'? And hey, for all you know, maybe Carlos and I do have our shit together!"

Charles pauses, looking Lando up and down critically.

"You definitely don't."

"Mate."

He leaves Lando behind him as he ducks into Ferrari, spotting Max talking with one of his engineers, looking at his data. He relaxes- Max looks fine.

"Charles!"

His eyes crinkle up as he smiles, and Charles finally feels his shoulders unwind, stepping into his arms. There's no cameras back here, so Max has no problem giving him a chaste kiss.

"Did you see McLaren was on fire?"

Charles laughs, eyes flicking over the same data Max had been looking at.

"Yes, very unfortunate for them. You didn't breathe any smoke, did you?"

Max tilts his head at Charles, eyes softening.

"I am not the danger magnet you seem to think I am, Charlie. I am completely okay."

Charles presses his lips together, caught out. It's not his fault he worries about Max constantly- because what if one day he's right? The last time he'd let something fester, he'd had to break into Max's flat and take him to the hospital anyways.

He's not interested in doing that again.

"I know, chéri. I was just checking."

------

Max settles onto the bed with Charles, hands gently wrapping around his waist.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

By "it", Charles knows he means the entire day. He's been clingy, and he knows it, but-

Having Max out of his line of sight had swelled up a massive ball of anxiety, prompting Charles to follow him, until Max had caught on, wordlessly making space for Charles in everything he did.

"Not really."

Max frowns, leaning back against the headboard.

"I think maybe we should."

Charles sighs, averting his eyes.

"It just- happens, sometimes. When I cannot see you, and I know there is not anything wrong, but I have to be sure."

Max brushes a thumb across his wrist.

"I of course love spending time with you, but I am thinking maybe-"

He pauses, lips pressed together as he looks at Charles, concerned.

"Maybe we should see if there is a therapist nearby for you also."

Oh.

Charles understands why Max needs therapy- Max's issues that require a professional can be seen from space.

That doesn't mean Charles needs one though.

He opens his mouth to protest, and Max squeezes his hip gently.

"It would make me feel better, even just a few sessions."

Charles can do a few sessions- long enough to charm the therapist, get a report of his perfectly normal brain for Max, and never address it again.

"Just a few."

Max leans in and kisses him, and Charles settles further on his lap, one hand coming up to cradle his jaw.

He pulls back, grinning at Max.

"Do I get a reward each time I go?"

Max rolls his eyes, even as he shifts underneath Charles.

"Maybe for the first one."

Charles leans in again, pressing Max down as he smiles against his lips.

He can probably convince him about the second time too, and then the third if there's another one, and maybe a fourth-

[yanderemommabean]

UPDATE-

So, according to my doctor, they more or less can't think of anything to do with my low blood pressure and high pulse rate. I brought up POTS, my loss of appetite, my fatigue, my nausea, my horrible headaches, bad migraines, how I'm easily winded and out of breath- just the whole list of things. I got some blood results back, I have a high white blood cell count, high lymphocyte count, and a high level of T4. So far that's sounding more like a pituitary and thyroid issue. Called my doctors as soon as I could, they weren't able to get back with me on any of this because of the holiday (yay -_-)

and at the appointment they more or less recommended going to my heart specialist and seeing them, which I can only hope they'll, y'know, LISTEN to me and my worries.

When I can get back with my doctor about all the other stuff ill update y'all! I'm sure it isn't anything to bad, but I was just letting you beans know!

-Mommabean

[race-week]

I’ve seen some people sharing this graphic and wondering what is going on, and why Leclerc’s top speed is so much lower

So explanation, the cars reach their highest speeds on the Kemmel straight at Spa

That’s the DRS straight at the back of the circuit between T4 and T5

Now, every other drivers fastest speed is recorded from a lap where they had DRS open, because inevitably having DRS open, reduces drag and allows a higher speed down the straight.

Leclerc did not have a single lap where he had DRS down the Kemmel straight, because he would lose time to Hamilton (or whoever he was following) through La Source (T1) so was always further than a second back from the car in front when he reached the detection point.

So the car doesn’t have some huge straight line speed issue it had a slight slow corner issue, but nothing detrimental, this graphic just looks bad because he didn’t have either DRS or a slipstream to increase his top speed.

(Also the axis labelling is kind of goofy)

[underatedwords]

notes from fp1 - australia

first free practice of the year!

redbull have brought 15 performance-related upgrades

aston have brought 12 performance-related upgrades

track reprofiled at turns 6&7, and gravel brought closer to the kerb

track action

all drivers out on Mediums, C4

lawson 'i touched the wall on entry of turn 9'

mv, wide slightly and dipped into gravel at t6

jack also wide through t6, dipped into gravel

red flag, 18 mins in - jack and mv kicked a lot of gravel onto the track so being swept. green flag after 7mins

george, 'washing out with understeer' through the high speed

oscar struggling w/ some understeer, also went wide at t6

jack back in the garage, damage to left rear of the floor, probably from the gravel

lawson also make in the pits for some repairs

red flag, 37mins in - big crash for ollie, oversteer into the gravel, bottomed out when he rejoined, lost steering and hit the wall w/ the rhs of his car. green flag 12mins later

mv, came up quickly behind carlos at t6, had to avoid him

lando and yuki fighting for position on their final prep laps

lewis reporting he's 'struggling to turn the car'

brief yellow flag, george touched the grass and span into the runoff at t4, no damage

alex wide and onto kerb, losing bodywork

isack ends the session highest of the rookies

[yuugen-benni]

''Not a Father's Day''

When your husband gets a baby fever TAGS: Childe x reader, the word ''sex'' appear only once, mentions of pregnancy (yes I'm breaking my own rule), Modern AU A/N: This is based on ''How I met your mother'' T4 E7, and I'M OBSESSED WITH THE HEADER PLUSHIE AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Guys, when you get married remember, Marriage has three stages:

Stage number 1: Teen era Even after you've known each other for years and years, almost tried to kill each other, and probably seen you both naked, you'll act like teenagers in their prime. You know, teasing, blushing for any reason, sex in the most inopportune places, those things that one day you will remember and feel ashamed of yourself.

Stage number 2 - Finding out The part of the relationship where you realize you knew absolutely nothing about your partner. Actually, "Nothing" is an exaggeration but you get the point. You start to know about small things that are shocking to the point of being considered a secret. Everyone has a secret, right? And the best way to count them is to dump each one. For example, Childe talking about her crazy exes:

''it's raining, look!….Oh, this reminds me so much of a crazy ex of mine who was in front of my apartment one night yelling about how she and I were meant for each other, and her husband was by her side! And the unbelievable was-''

And he kept talking and talking, while your expression was screaming ''There is more ?!'' and your mind thanks God for being normal;

Stage number 3 - Perfect couple

Here is when you became a perfect couple. What is a perfect couple? Two people who have spent so much time together that they can now create an encyclopledia about their partner. Habits, tics, favorite foods, the number of Hot Wheels cars your partner has collected, that sort of thing. Even reading expressions is possible;

The fights end and so do the disagreements

But there is only one subject that can break this: Babies.

''Hey babe, I'm back!" Childe announces his arrival, the door closes behind him as he walks over to you in the kitchen, and peck your lips "I was on my way here when I found out this little sock on our doorstep…?" Childe leans on the counter by his side with a confused expression while he plays with the child's sock, noticing the cute little blue patterns. You, who was kindly decorating cookies for Childe's siblings, looked up to look at the little thing

''It must be from new neighbors, they got the opposite apartment and knocked our door asking for help'' You started, leaving aside the piping bag ''Finally some new people! It's been so long since someone rented an apartment here'' the man commented, approaching the cookies discreetly before wincing at the slap you gave his hand

''They have two kids'' Continuing ''a baby girl and a boy with Teucer's age''

At the mention of his brother, Childe's expression changed, forgetting his red fingers. ''Awesome, we could invite them to dinner this weekend, If that's not a problem'' He gave an idea, but then raised an eyebrow at your dull expression

''They seem like good people…but I-I'm sure they'll ask those awkward questions like 'when are you two having a baby' and then apologize for being intrusive after being intrusive'' Of course, it was just an assumption, you had only interacted with them for minutes but your biggest mistake in this conversation was bringing up the subject you two avoid. Childe laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.

''Well-''

"Childe, we already talked about this. You just have a silly baby fever, and in case you didn't know, fever goes away" You quickly dismissed him, knowing he wouldn't give up so soon. Having a child was a big request, a big wish. But it's not like it wouldn't be ''easy'', you have enough money to have 50 kids and they still wouldn't use up half of Childe's bank account. His family lives in the apartment next door and could teach you more about how to take care of children…But there was still an insecurity boiling inside you.

"But what if it doesn't go away ? What If the urge to go out just to buy little socks for our child keeps eating me ?" He was almost pleading, looking into your eyes just when you tried to avoid his gaze

"...First, you need to give me good arguments" you replied after sigh, somewhat expressing your guilty. Childe opens a big smile and approaches you once more, A fox look - persuasive "hmm... don't you want hold a mini silly Childe in your arms ?-"

"Cut it off! This is serious!"

"O-okay!" He chuckled softly before silence filled the room, he looked at the floor and then at the main kitchen window "We would practically be building a story…That's not the reason I would want to have a child, in fact you is my reason. Sometimes I feel like you are the reason for my existence… and they would [literally] understand me"

You stayed quiet and walked away from the counter, taking off your apron before gently kissing his lips. He cupped your face, wiping away the small traces of flour on your cheeks. ''I'm convincing, aren't I?'' He whispered and pulled away, taking a few steps backwards as he bit into the cookie he stole while you weren't looking. Bastard. You didn't even have time to shout at him because the man was already on the other side of the apartment; you sighed, but couldn't help but giggle.

You married a idiot, a handsome idiot. Have fun.

[deareststars]

i need to be youthfully felt 'cause, god, i never felt young (house, md)

title taken from jackie and wilson by hozier. continued under the cut.

(this is a short reader-insert written because i'm overstimulated and need to write about something OTHER than pmh nursing. tempted to make this into a full-blown >5k wilson x reader...)

“You’re stupider than I gave you credit for.”

Even with House’s usual snark, you can’t keep a smile from coming across your face.

“You say that to everyone. When is it going to hold any substance?”

He shakes his head and kicks back in his chair, using his cane to balance himself. “No, what I meant was: for someone whose whole job surrounds psychology—also known as the study of the human mind—you really don’t seem to understand people.”

This only serves to make your grin widen. “What, my usual argument that humanity’s natural state of being is empathy, and that we can change for the people we care about, doesn’t hold any substance either? Maybe we’re both shallower than you gave us credit for.”

“If humanity’s natural state of being were empathy, Wilson wouldn’t be three wives deep with a fourth one on the way." The chair legs fall forward with a thump, and he points an accusatory finger at you. "And if you cared about yourself, you would take one second to realize that you’re setting yourself up for a T4-sized tumor in the shape of a shoe to kick you right in the ass.”

You roll your eyes. “Come on, House.”

“No, you come on.” He gets up. For a moment, you think he might actually ask you to walk with him. Instead, he jabs at your foot with his cane. Better than him hitting your shin with it, you suppose. “You and I have known Wilson for almost the same amount of time. Yet, you think dating him is a good idea?”

“What can I say?” You don’t fight to keep your gaze from softening. The retch that House lets out is gratification enough. “There’s just something about him.”

He gasps and holds his hands together like a lovesick schoolgirl. “Is it the hair? The eyes? Or the fact that he is a serial cheater and you are an idiot for even humoring the idea that he’ll stay with you for longer than it takes him to find another attractive bimbo wearing a skirt?”

“People change.”

“No, behaviors change. People never do.”

You spread your hands wide. “Is my happiness really not good enough of an argument for you?”

He groans, the loudest one you’ve heard him let out to date. “Your happiness is better served sitting here on the sidelines with me, watching Wilson fail to keep it in his pants! He hit on a married woman at a casino, for God’s sake!”

That’s something you hadn’t heard yet, but you don’t want to give House the satisfaction of your surprise. And even without House's uncensored thoughts spilling out, it's true that on your own, you’ve had these doubts. Ever since the budding feelings of a crush developed in your heart, your mind has been trying to win out.

There’s a reason why every nurse in the building knows Wilson’s name, Cameron had once told you. Even if they don’t work in oncology, that kind of reputation spreads.

Why would you set yourself up for such a perfect downfall? Maybe you’re tired of playing it safe, or maybe you want to hurt. Maybe, despite everything you’ve told House, you want proof that it’s worth it to ache on someone else’s behalf—and not just proof that you’ve read about in an article, but proof that you can hold in your hands and see with your eyes, even if it's your own blood spilling out from self-inflicted misery.

“Plus, how inconvenient is it that you’re dating each other now? For me, of course,” he adds before you can get a word in edgewise. "Sharing your time, making sure you don't sneak off on me...and now, I have to give you the shovel talk.”

“Oh, I’ve actually been waiting to hear this.”

He clears his throat. “Chase introduced me to this thought experiment of the ‘immortal snail.’ It’s this little snail that follows you around. You can’t kill it or escape from it, but the moment it touches you, you die. If you hurt Wilson or break his fragile little heart, that snail will be me. I’ll hunt you down with my cane, waiting for the moment to shatter your knees in one fell swoop. You can hide from me on any distant plane of the planet, but I will find you.”

You’re…actually in awe of his creativity. “Okay, noted.”

He waves you off. “Don’t worry, I’ll come up with an equally creative one to tell Wilson on your behalf. I can’t have you thinking I’m playing favorites.”

"Perfect." You turn and dig your hands into the pockets of your coat. "Well, I'll give James your regards, then."

"Oh, God, you're already on a first-name basis!"

You leave him to his whining, letting the door swing shut behind you. As you walk, you hum to yourself, finding your steps growing lighter at the thought of a familiar office and an even more familiar smile.