#going by how much they've been multiplying

[sweetestlamb]

I Wanna do Bad Things to You

Authors note: honestly I was losing interest a bit and the second couple still has me in a chokehold but today's episode ate devoured and licked the plate clean. I have a million things I need to do right now but I wrote this instead🤷🏾‍♀️💃🏾

None of his fantasies could have ever prepared him for the vision Seok-ryu makes breathing hard beneath him, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen from their kissing.

Thoughts about her aren't new to him. Dirty thoughts about her are not new either. He's been locking his door since he first realized that his feelings for her were different from his feelings for Mo-eum.

He never dreamed about holding her hand, or kissing her or undressing her.

No. Those bad thoughts were reserved for one person and now she's under him staring up at him like she's having very similar thoughts and his thoughts are multiplying by the minute.

"What are you thinking about?"

'Giving you a hickie.'

But he only says that to himself in the safety of his mind because saying that out loud terrifies him and makes his palms too moist.

"Choiseung." She demands his attention again, as if he's not already too fixated on her.

"I'd.... rather not say." He whispers instead, leaning down to hide his face in the curve of her neck before he even realizes his mistake.

She grumbles underneath him but he melts at her hand settling in his hair, her fingers running through the thick strands. Nobody's ever caressed him like this before. He has the fight the moan that wants to escape.

"You're already breaking your promise."

That gets his attention and he shifts away, pining her with her eyes.

"What? What do you mean? What did I do?" He wants to fix whatever it is immediately, he can't handle another argument with her his heart felt like it would burst.

She seems stunned by his seriousness before she collects herself, "You said you wouldn't hide anything from me again. I want to know what you're thinking, whatever is making you look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you're starving."

Her and these food analogies. But she's not wrong, he feels like he has been starving for years waiting, longing and wishing. Starved for her attention, her favour and her love.

"I'm hungry."

His eyes widen at the sudden announcement especially considering that they just ate, but maybe he can go outside and see if the store is still open and get her something to--

"Where are you going?" She huffs at him as he tries to detangle their limbs.

"You said that you're hun-

"Are you a virgin?"

He freezes and his brain short circuits before he can remind his lungs how to work and breathe again.

"Are you insane why would you ask me that?!"

"Woah. Look how red you got! Am I right? You're a virgin? Am I going to be your first?"

He stares at her slack mouthed before his competitiveness kicks in, she's always been the one to bring this petty immature side out of him.

Far too easily he grips both of her wrists in his hand and pins her hands to the bed over her head. She flails in his tight grip but he watches with fascination as her cheeks pinken and her eyes dilute.

Interesting.

"My first what? Are you offering Seok-ryu? Do you want it that badly?"

His nerves are still there but the desire to put her in her place overrides it momentarily.

But instead of arguing like she's supposed, like they've both been doing for years she zigs when he expects her to zag.

"What if I do? You're my boyfriend. Aren't I suppose to want you?" She stares back with open defiance, only she could make such a confession sound so aggressive.

"Seok-ryu..."

"I don't want to talk. Do I have to spell it out? I want you to -"

His lips slam into hers with a wet smack and he almost groans at how easily she opens up for him, kissing him back as if she's the one that's been pining for years. As if she wants him half as much as he wants her.

He jolts when her legs wrap around his waist, his hold on her wrists loosening for a moment.

When he can't resist the urge to grind into her heat he forces himself to pull away. They need to slow down this is...too much. Too fast.

"We should stop."

But that seems to be the last thing on her mind.

Instead she frees her hands and shoves them up his shirt, his stomach tightens at her touch and this time he isn't quick enough to swallow his reaction.

"Hey Seung-hyo when did you get abs? Is that why you think you can boss me around because you got some muscles?"

"You can't just touch me like that." She raises an eyebrow at his exclamation, challenge clear in her eyes.

"Oh. Why not? Aren't you my man? Can't I touch you just like this and even worst? If I can't touch you like this then who can?"

His jaw drops at her assertion and at the possessiveness in her tone.

He refuses to leave any room for a misunderstanding this time.

"Nobody. Only you."

She avoids eye contact but he doesn't miss the smirk on her lips and that twinkle in her eyes.

"But if you touch me like that then I'm going to get thoughts....I don't want to take advantage of you."

Her laughter is instant and he's tired of feeling like a fish out of water, she's his woman. He is allowed to act like it. He's done holding himself back.

So he retightens his grip on her hands and leans down to press a firm kiss to her neck. Then he waits and her reaction is immediate, her body bends to meet him giving him free range to explore.

Without hesitation he preseses another kiss opening his mouth to taste her and she moans in response.

"More."

That sends blood rushing through his entire body.

He kisses her again and again until she's twisting beneath him but he's too strong for her to break his hold, he shouldn't like that so much.

"I want to give you a hickie."

There. He's said it and if she says no that's fine this is still more than he ever hoped for, more than he deserves honestly. It's greedy of him to even want for more.

"Then do it."

And this time he hold on her completely loosens and she wraps her hands around his neck and yanks him down again, pressing his face further into her neck with a quiet, "Mark me I want it."

He opens his mouth and sucks gently, teething at the thin skin there with the barest amount of pressure. He does it for a minute, lost in her scent and in her soft skin.

"Harder."

He hums into her neck in response, too enthralled to move away for even a second.

"You need to do it harder to leave a mark."

He ignores the tinge of jealousy that flares up at her obvious expertise, she's here with him now that's all that matters.

And he obeys her, open his mouth wider and sucking harder even biting at the last minute and he almost pulls away at her soft shout but she tightens her arms around him refusing to left him go.

"I'm fine you just surprised me. But I like it. I like everything you do to me. Don't stop."

He feels like he's drowning in his own pent up desires.

But he continues to suck and bite and lick at her skin before he realizes that his hips have been moving of their own accord, each gasp from her lips feels him leaving lightheaded and wound up too tight.

He needs to stop before it's too late.

The hickie is huge and red, he realizes that he might have overdone it especially with them trying to hide their relationship.

She's going to kill him.

"How is it? Are you proud of yourself?" She teases him and he can't deny that he loves seeing his mark on her, loves that she trusted him enough to let him do that.

"Who knew you were so possessive?"

He bristles at her taunting tone, "Like you're any better? What did you call me your ma-"

"Hey! Shut up, don't repeat the things I say in the heat of the moment that's embarrassing!"

And this time she pushes him away, and he lets her flopping onto her bed.

"I'm going to check out my hickie, see how much concealer I need to cover it."

And that has him bolting up in the bed, "Wait a second Seok-ryu!"

But he's too late and he watches her eyes flare with anger as she touches the large red mark on her neck in awed silence.

"It looks worst than it really is, it should fade by tomorrow I'm sure!" So similar to the words that she said to his crying six year old self and they both know how that turned out.

"I'm going to kill you!! What did you do to my beautiful neck? What are you a freaking vampire? I said mark me, not destroy my neck!"

And he jumps over the bed trying to get away from her and he can't help but laugh as she trips over her own feet trying to catch him.

[tea-understands]

tfw you want to find out if it is possible to over water your MASSIVE ufo plant bc it seems to be thirsty all the time and you wonder if maybe splashing some water in its general direction one time a week might not be enough after all (then again it did perfectly fine when you forgot to water it for three weeks so who knows) and every other article you come across expects you to own a moisture meter. Like. Guys. As much as I love my honestly impressive monstrosity of a houseplant that's not the kind of relationship we have.

[wordsinhaled]

thinking about how much crowley and aziraphale have been getting slammed for their poor communication and on the one hand... absolutely, i agree 100%. they have so much work to do in that department, they are always missing each other when it comes to seeing what they each want from the other and expressing it clearly. but on the other hand... like... encompassing six thousand years into a conversation? six thousand years of knowing each other. six thousand years of gravitating toward one another

like... the bit that really gets me, in crowley's confession, is - "...and we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't. i mean, the last few years, not really" - this implication that like... at least on crowley's part... since they saved the world together he's allowed himself to be more open in how he feels about aziraphale. that in his mind he's already long since chosen Their Side, they've chosen their side in their behavior towards each other, and they've talked about... our car, our shop, but even before that...

we see in the minisodes, the way they already act. they're a pair that shows rather than tells all the time and it's so abundantly clear that everyone around them can see it, is constantly asking about it, assuming it, reading it on them like they're an open book - with everyone but each other.

but like how do you put into clumsy human words how much love you feel for someone who stood next to you while you created the stars? who helped you create them? how do you say openly how you feel to the one person who understands you and your nature better than anyone else, who indulges your every whim because they want to see you happy while everyone else says you were built wrong, you're too indulgent, you're too soft but you're perfect for him, specifically, because you stood at the beginning of the universe together?

like how are they supposed to talk about that? especially when it's so forbidden to talk about that?

there are so few words that truly feel like they properly encompass what love truly and genuinely means? what loving someone TRULY means? how it's giving up your onliness and entrusting yourself into the hands of another, now you're not just you, now you're you but the world is brighter and sharper and more beautiful because of another? how we're all stuck on a spinning rock in the middle of space in the middle of the universe in the middle of the galaxy in the middle of eternity just little grains of sand and then there's another little grain of sand in the scheme of things, but it's the most important one ever created because of how happy it makes you?

but multiply that by six thousand years

so like of course you fucking cry and you stare at each other with tears in your eyes like you're absolutely ESSENTIAL to one another. but like how do you make it work in words when you don't know if there are even words for the prospect of existing without one another? and you have this absolutely incandescent and fragile thing between you that everyone understands to exist, you understand it to exist too, and sometimes it is scary as fuck to admit that you need someone. it is terrifying and uncomfortable and vulnerable and we're just people who live maybe 100 years on this earth? a blink of an eye compared to six thousand years of shared existence?

like...? truthfully i don't think i could talk about it easily either because oh my god that's fucking terrifying. that six thousand years of your comfortable and beloved shared existence could go up in smoke with one misplaced word. like no fucking WONDER he can't get the words out. and no fucking wonder, it's easier to couch things in terms like group and team and everything when you're on the verge of falling apart into a million pieces because the other half of your soul wants to leave you behind. it's easier to say come with me, work with me, be my second in command, than to admit he's first in your heart and mind every second of every day since you saw him bringing light at the beginning of the universe???

just... you know? they need a fucking break. they need a vacation. they need a cottage in the south fucking downs

[valsdelulucorner]

obey me headcannons because why not

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer is so strict with his brothers because he doesn't want what happened to Lilith to happen to them, he cant bare to loose another sibling. His back is also extremely fucked over from his massive workload and from when he lost afew of his wings, his wing bones were connected to his spine so when he lost those, his back has never truly been the same.

Mammon is actually alot smarter then people think, this man is a absolute legend at counting, multiplying and maths. He may be dense and stupid at times but the mans a legend at math, i like the idea that if your studying with him he helps you out with maths, feeling smug and proud when he helps you get answers right. I also like the idea that he has many piercing holes but is just not bothered to more then two in at a time, if its a fancy event or if its a club event, he'll put more in

Levi is either scrawny or has some chub, you cannot change my mind. The only exercise he gets is chasing mammon around or running around for events. That man survives off of energy drinks and sugary foods, i cant seeing him having full blown rock hard abs, maybe some, but not rock hard abs like beel. I also like the headcannon that he has scales around his neck, cheeks and forehead, another reason he has his fringe covering his eyes.

Satan has alot of scars and scratches on his hands from punching walls, attempting to pet wild kitties and from other things to get his anger out. I feel like when Asmo come in to redo Satan's nails, he draws over the little scars with pen, making them into little flowers or hearts

Asmo has dry skin around his nose from how much moisture he normally has on his face thanks to face masks, skin care and make up. The buildup of all of the produce and the fact there is almost always something on his face has left his skin a little dry to his liking so he adds more product to fix it. I also love thinking about how asmo probably has some faint freckles over his shoulders and nose but he normally hides them, he doesn't want to be seen as anything but perfect.

Beel is not a child so people should stop treating him like one, he has sworn, he has killed and eaten people before, he is a 1000+ year old demon who has seen some shit go down, people should stop infantizing him. Beel has stretch marks around his torso and arms, from constantly working out to eating half of devildom, i feel like his body changes rapidly due to his diet and his working out. He also has matching bracelets with Belphie, his one has a charm of the sun.

Belphie is either dead quite or the loudest snorer, there is no in-between. He could probably be so quite that his brothers loose him for a good day or two, when they think they've checked everywhere belphie starts snoring, leading them straight to him. He also sleeps in the most random spots aswell, next to the potted plant, standing in the middle of the corridor, behind the door, you name it. When this man is tired and done for the day, he will find a way to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

5th time saying im back but its been a busy week, exams have been kicking my ass rn, not to mention I have a biology exam tomorrow morning so yay, fun times

I havent done this in a while, im starting to get back into the groove of things lol

[fluentmoviequoter]

hiiiii ♡ would be able to write something where reader is Jason Todd's girlfriend, friends to lovers situation so they've known each other a long time but she doesn't know about any of the vigilante stuff, And one day she's late making her way back to thier apartment but Jason is also making his way home but he's still in all the Redhood gear and reader bumps into him and is absolutely terrified out of her mind like just in complete terror of him. And she runs home and locks the doors and the windows and is a little shaken up. Jason finally arrives home obviously not as redhood lol And anyway he has to comfort her and just how would he react knowing that he scared the shit out of her and that she's this much afraid of redhood

Hi!! Of course! This is my first Jason Todd request and I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart!! I love him so much and this is an incredible idea. I added my own spin to the ending, but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Warnings: angst, fluff, Dick Grayson is nosy

Word Count: 2.3k+ words

A/N: This isn't a specific adaptation/characterization of Jason Todd, but I do mention that he's built like a brick wall, so it's probably not Titans!Jason. The gif fit, though, so. If anyone has more Jason Todd requests, please send them!

PART 2 - Love, The Man Under the Hood >

Masterlist | DC/Jason Todd Masterlist | Request Info

The Man Under the Hood

“Are you going to tell her?” Dick asks, raising his gloved hand for Jason to hit.

“I don’t know,” Jason grunts between punches.

“She stayed through everything else.”

“We were friends then, it was different.”

Dick drops his hands, and Jason sighs, lowering his guard. Jason raises his eyebrows, preparing for one of Dick’s infamous lectures.

“I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Dick begins before laughing at Jason’s surprised look. “I’m really not, but you’ve known her for a very long time. Just, don’t wait too long, because then it just looks like you don’t trust her.”

“It was different for you. Nightwing wasn’t feared. Telling her that I’m Red Hood tells her that I’ve done things that- that most people never consider.”

“She loves you. As you make the decision, just remember that.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Growing up in Gotham and playing in the streets (even when you shouldn’t have) introduced you to Jason Todd very early. He quickly became your friend, and when you lost him, you were finally ready to admit you loved him. But it was too late. The feelings that you were trying to navigate multiplied tenfold, and every time you pass his grave, they come back to the surface.

The cemetery is on your way home, and sometimes you can’t help but walk in. You can navigate to his headstone with your eyes closed, and everything else drifts away as you stare at his name.

“There’s a joke about the morbidity of this somewhere, I just know it."

Two large hands land on your waist, turning you around and pulling you into a kiss that takes your breath away. Breaking the kiss, you wonder what life would be like if Jason had never disappeared.

“Sorry,” you murmur. Kissing Jason is new and still catches you off guard, like you’re dreaming.

“Don’t apologize,” Jason whispers, brushing his fingers across your cheekbone. “Of all the places to hang out,” he adds with a bright smile.

“Why didn’t Bruce get it taken down?”

Jason shrugs. “The reminder? The idea that something else could happen. I really don’t know,” Jason half lies. He isn’t ready to tell you that he really did die and is happy to let you think it was just a ransom kidnapping gone wrong.

“What?” you ask, pressing your palms against his chest. “You disappeared into that pretty head again.”

“I’m just glad we’re finally more than friends,” Jason says, pressing his lips to yours.

“Me too,” you reply against his lips.

You’ve been friends much longer than lovers, so spending time together is not new, but being able to touch, kiss, and tell him what you feel is. While you think about how much you like the newness, Jason struggles to decide when or if to expose who he is.

He trusts you; he does, but he doesn’t want to scare you away or put a target on your back. Nightmares about you finding out and leaving while he’s gone plagued him for months after returning to Gotham and seeing you again. 

“Do you have to go back to the manor yet?”

Jason shakes his head, looping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re stuck with me for a few more hours.”

“Oh no.”

Jason pulls you against his side, smiling as he kisses the top of your head.

Not yet, he decides. Not never, just not yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason feels Dick’s eyes on the side of his mask, a distorted sigh leaking out.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“You didn’t tell her,” Dick – Nightwing – accuses.

“We’re kinda in the middle of something here, Wing.”

“They can wait. Right, criminals?” Dick asks over his shoulder.

“Sure,” one of them answers, a batarang through his jacket keeping him stuck to an alley wall. “Take your time.”

Dick raises his hands to ask, “Why?”

“I thought you weren’t going to tell me what to do,” Jason sighs.

“Changed my mind. Look, I obviously understand the purpose of secret identities, but you love her, and she deserves to know.”

“You haven’t told your girl?” the thief asks. “Why not?”

“Shut up,” Jason growls through the hood.

“What are you really scared of?” Dick whispers before turning away.

Jason and Dick leave the criminal in the alley when police sirens approach, finding a rooftop to wait on. Gotham is never quiet for long, and breaks on patrol are few and far between.

“I’m going to tell her,” Dick announces. “Not about you. About me. Maybe that will convince you.”

“Don’t.”

“Jaybird.”

“Don’t ‘Jaybird’ me, Dick,” Jason argues, standing and pacing. “You don’t understand what I’m dealing with here. You tell Babs you’re Nightwing and she says, ‘Oh, wow, thanks for keeping us safe.’ I tell the woman that I love that I’m Red Hood and her first thought is the duffel bag fiasco, or the suicide spike at Arkham, nothing about me being a savior.”

“Everyone in Gotham knows that you’re not like that anymore. Besides, knowing that you did something bad isn’t a make-or-break situation.”

“Begging for forgiveness won’t do much if she leaves while I’m on patrol.”

Dick tilts his head toward Jason. “You’ve thought about this.”

Jason flexes his arms as he links his hands behind his neck. “Every time I consider doing it, I have a nightmare about her leaving.”

“You’re letting a nightmare control you, Jay.”

“Just- give me a little time, Dick. I can protect her from everything without telling her. Me included.”

“What if she doesn’t want to be protected from you? What if she wants you as you are?”

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason can’t remember the last time he was this tired after patrol. Damian had too much sugar or something and drug Jason all over Gotham. He needs to see you, and as Red Hood makes his way through the streets of Gotham, Jason keeps his mind on you, prepared to ditch the helmet and hold you until he can’t anymore.

Meanwhile, you’re walking home from work. Jason likes to be on the phone with you while you walk alone, but it’s late, and he’s probably at a family dinner. Looking down at your phone, you have a short message from him, but before you read it, you walk into what feels like a brick wall.

Gloved hands grip your biceps to keep you upright, and when you look up, you see the infamous Red Hood looming over you. Your mind wavers between fight and flight as you try not to scream, leaning away with wide eyes. You swallow harshly, and the eye slits of the mask fix themselves on your face.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You flinch back at the sound of his voice, and his hands immediately fall away from you. Falling back, you catch yourself on your hands and scoot backward, terrified of what he’ll do to you. Red Hood has been working with the bats and birds, but the memory of what he was like before still looms over Gotham like the rain clouds that never dissipate.

He steps back, moving his hand toward his belt, and you gasp, freezing where you are.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, standing slowly. “Please don’t hurt me.”

It’s Red Hood’s turn to freeze, and unknown to you, Jason is falling apart under the mask. The pure terror in your eyes is the exact thing he’s been trying to keep you from.

“It’s okay, it’s my fault,” he rushes to say, leaving his hands where you can see them. “I’m not going to touch you.”

You nod slowly, moving backward as you clearly don’t believe him. Once you reach the corner, you turn and run. If he wanted to follow you, he could do so with no problem, but you don’t spare a glance over your shoulder as you run as fast as you can toward your home.

Jason’s shoulders drop as he watches you run, beating himself up for everything: for not telling you, for scaring you, and for putting you in this position. He can’t tell you now; he missed his chance, and there’s no way you’ll want him. His nightmare is coming to life around him, and he can’t wake up.

Your phone is lying on the ground, and Jason stoops to pick it up, slipping it into his pocket. Maybe you’ll still want to see Jason tonight. If someone like him can be so lucky.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your keys slip from your fingers several times as you struggle to unlock your door. Panting and blinking quickly to keep your tears from falling, you finally open the door, and once you're inside, slam it behind you and lock all three deadbolts.

Leaning against the door, you slide down it and hug yourself, wishing you had picked up your phone. You want to call Jason; you need him, but hopefully, he’ll come over when he can.

Something flies past your window, and you leap to your feet, walking through every room to ensure all the windows are locked. 

✯✯✯✯✯

Jason takes his time following you. He can move quickly, especially for a guy his size, but after seeing how you looked at Red Hood, at him, he’s more than happy to go a little slower. Taking the long way, he drops his stuff off at his place, keeping your phone in his pocket.

As he walks, he wonders what to say or do to convince you to stay. Sure, you were terrified of Red Hood, not Jason Todd, but the two are not mutually exclusive and never will be. Part of him wants to take Dick’s advice and tell you, but the idea of it not working (or ending like he thinks he will) makes the decision impossible.

He takes a deep breath before knocking on your door, and when there’s no answer or footsteps inside, he hits the door again, saying your name.

“It’s me,” he adds.

Your footsteps sound before three deadbolts click. Opening the door, you move into the hallway to hug Jason tightly. He returns the hug, pulling you up against him as he carries you inside and closes the door behind him. Flipping all the deadbolts, he knows he can keep you safer than they ever could, but that requires trust. Trust from you and from him.

As you cling to him, his heart is torn between leaving you before he scares you again or comforting you all night. When you adjust your grip on him, pressing your cheek against his pec just above your heart, Jason decides to stay. 

If she’s this afraid of Red Hood, what will she do when she finds out who he is? Jason wonders.

Pushing the thoughts away, Jason holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back while the other rests against your hip. The weight of his arms against you is comforting, and you focus on his heartbeat and the sound of his voice.

“You’re alright,” he whispers, his voice rough. “Take a few deep breaths.”

You do as he says, attempting to match your breaths to his. It takes several minutes, but your heart rate slows as your breath evens out.

“Thank you,” you say, moving your chin against his chest to look up at him.

He smiles, though his lips stay together, and it’s not as big as usual, running a hand over your hair.

“Can I- can I talk to you about what happened?” you ask, leaning into his touch.

He nods, and something akin to dread flashes through his eyes. You write it off as nervousness that you were hurt or threatened, which wouldn’t be unbelievable in Gotham.

“I was walking home, I got off late but didn’t want to call you and bother you.”

Jason wonders how different things would be if you had called, but rather than interrupting, he nods to acknowledge he’s listening.

“Then I turned into an alley, and I bumped into Red Hood. And, I mean, I know he’s not the same as when he first arrived in Gotham.”

Hope blooms in Jason’s chest at your words.

“He works with Batman, and Nightwing, and the rest of them, and they’re good. I’ve heard from my coworkers who live in the Hill that he’s making a difference, for good, but,” you trail off, looking away from Jason as you shatter his hope that you see a different side of Red Hood. 

“But what?” he asks quietly.

You shrug, and Jason takes the opportunity to move. He pulls you with him as he sits up, tugging you into his lap as you look up at him. His arms wrap around your waist as his fingers brush up and down against your side.

“I think the reason he scared me so much is that there’s no way to tell what he’s thinking. The rest of them, you can see part of their face, but he hides everything. And he’s just so big, I looked up and felt so small that I knew if he wanted to hurt me, he could.”

He would never hurt you, Jason thinks.

“I guess I didn’t like being in that position where I knew he could do anything but had no way of knowing if he would.”

Jason leans back toward the back of the couch. The fear that you’re expressing is based on reasons that apply to him, the man under the mask.

“You got scared because he’s so big? And unreadable?” Jason clarifies, applying the adjectives to himself.

Your eyes are fixed on him, dropping to his shoulders and waist quickly, looking at his build (and noticing the shape of a phone in his pocket, aware that he set his to the side to hold you) before you hum. “Kinda like you,” you muse quietly.

Jason’s brows furrow, and you move your arms, causing Jason to drop one arm to his side.

You watch his movement, then look into his eyes. You lean toward him and smile, cocking your head as you ask, “But you can protect me. Right, red?”

[autumnmobile12]

All right, here's the thing about the Todoroki fire-users.

Most forms of glass melt at a temperature of 1,400°C to 1,600° C.

Orange flames have a range of 1100°C to 1200°C.

So unless either of them can exceed the 1400°C threshold and get into the white flame range (1300°C - 1500°C), Shouto and Endeavor cannot melt glass.

But with a blue flame that burns 1,400°C-1,600°C, this bitch sure can.

So now that in the Ambush Simulation AU I've revealed Nine and his entourage are the LoV, imagine the opening scene of Heroes Rising:

Whichever henchmen they've hired to transport the cargo in that car chase scene are careening down the highway, the Pros are in pursuit...and so's the Vanguard.

Car accidents caused by the fleeing villains have put Rock Lock and company out of commission, but Shimura's motorcycle can maneuver through just fine, so he and his passenger are still in the game like it's a Greek chariot race. Nobody really knew the Vanguard was going to make an appearance, nobody knows how they got the info on what was happening, but hey, they're provisionally licensed and can operate under Pros now, so no one's going to complain about the extra manpower on their side.

So my thoughts and prayers are with the poor driver of the armored vehicle whose sole job is to focus on the road. He just wants to survive the night without getting arrested, his comrades can worry about the Pros behind them, he's more concerned about the Pros blockading the road in front of them, one of whom is Endeavor. He's not paying attention to that loud thunk he heard on the roof.

Things are already looking a little sticky...

...and then this crazy bastard appears in the windshield and starts melting the glass. Not breaking it; it's too thick to break without a weapon. Just slowly melting it so the poor guy has enough time to contemplate and regret some key life choices.

(There's a very specific image in my head here and it's the drowned corpse scene from the anime Ghost Hunt if anyone's familiar with that one.)

Anyway, the getaway driver just panics and veers over the guardrail and down the mountainside as it goes in the film, which pretty much leaves Shimura to stop his bike and stare alongside Endeavor down at the path of destroyed vegetation in horror as the sound of screeching metal fades to silence.

Shimura: ....

Endeavor: .... *slowly turns to look at Shimura*

Shimura: *doesn't look up* Hey, don't look at me. You created that monster.

...

And recall that scene ends with Endeavor heading down the hill to investigate the crash and finds Hawks already there:

Touya: What's the situation with my leg? It feels like it's either been broken or impaled.

Hawks: Actually, it's both. That's an...impressive compound fracture.

Touya: All that and I only got a busted leg? *sits up* Oh, no wait, fuck, there's two of you and Endeavor's multiplying.

Endeavor: *fed up* ....scared me to death, you shit for brains. Where's the League?

Hawks: I think they managed to warp out at the last minute. Genius here is the only body I found breathing or otherwise.

Touya: *cackling* Shut the fuck up, Feathers!

...

Shimura: You have got to stop smiling like you regularly devour the souls of small children and their pets.

Touya: *adrenaline wearing off, pain finally setting in* I have no idea what you're talking about.

Rock Lock: *standing over both of them* Exactly what was your plan back there?

Touya: Obviously, I was thinking I could get control of the steering wheel. Not my fault the driver had the nerves of a dandelion. Also, I'm not the one who thought chasing down an armored vehicle with four-door sedans was a good idea, so why I am the only stupid one here? Now everyone be quiet, my head is splitting and I just suffered the indignity of being carried away from an accident by my father.

Endeavor: Carrying you was easier when you were four.

Touya: The last time you carried me is when I was four!

[tantei-chan01]

Animals Continued

Xxxxx

Once the World Tour is taken care of, with the rock trolls agreeing to help with the damages, the rest of the tribes return to their respective territories. There's just one issue, the wild life have gotten bolder.

Since the attack, many of their defenses have been destroyed, causing the local wildlife to get closer to the residents. There haven't been any attacks, but it does make the citizens nervous.

Techno trolls have sharks, eels, and large squid that are their natural predators. It's also the time of year for the giant mana ray migration, so they need to figure out a way to redirect them without their tech.

The Classical trolls have large preditory birds to worry about, and they're having trouble getting their eighth goats under control.

The Country trolls have many poisoness animals in the desert. Their cattle have been scared off so many times that they won't get close to the town.

The Funk trolls have to stay grounded until repairs are done on the ship, since they haven't been on the ground for so long, they're not quite sure how to deal with many of the creatures.

The Rock trolls also have a problem, with so many of the citizens in different territories to help with repairs. They've neglected their own issues with the lava crocs and boulder buzzards.

When Poppy learns of this, she sends in the one troll who can help them.

Enter Branch.

At first, Branch was a little apprehensive to leave the village, they still have some repairs to do, and it's mating season for the puffalo. The Snack Pack tell him that they can handle the reconstruction and Milton can help with the puffalo. So he packs up his bags and starts heading toward the other tribes.

Xxx

Branch spends a month in each tribe to do his job. He tackles the predators first, spending two weeks studying their habits and memorizing their sounds. Once he finds a pattern in the communication or an exploitable weakness, he makes a strategy and collaborates with the other trolls on how to best go through it. Some animals he was able to convince to move areas, others he had no choice but use force.

Once the predators are taken care of, he gets to the domestic animals. Like before, he memorizes the habits and sounds. Once he has a form of communication going, he'll ask them what they need. He then relays the message to the trolls, and they start making accommodations.

The other tribes notice how their pets and livestock seem much calmer around the once gray troll. Even the more temperamental of their creature become putty in his hands. Many have called him the 'Animal Whisperer', and the more romantic types call him an Angel.

To say thanks for helping them, each tribe gives him an animal.

Techno gave him a Low beat Turtle, similar to Suki's bugs, the have a turntable on their back. They can move on land and can create a low vibration sound that has a calming effect.

Classical gave him three eighth goats as they do better in a herd than by themselves. Their wool is fluffy and warm, making incredible blankets, pillows, and sweaters. They also have a melodious bleat.

Country gave him a dairy Bluegrass Buffalo, they're a sandy blue color cow. They make a delicious and nutritious milk and are very gentle.

Funk gave him a snug-a-lug since Branch can talk to them. He can figure out how to hug it without multiplying. And yes, Branch can make that cute little warble it does.

Rock gave him a Lava Snake, they vary in color from dark red to an ashy gray. Their hide is very tough while their underbelly is quite soft. They can withstand extremely high temperatures, and their skin can be melted to create many things once they shed. The young one likes to sleep in the fireplace.

The animals in Pop village take them under their tutelage to become Branch's bodyguards, unbeknownst to him.

[hamliet]

the notion that bnha is pro authoritarianism or social hierarchies is nonsensical not to mention acting like being pro cop is bad

Err... BNHA is pretty pro-authoritarian. I actually find it pretty disturbing. And that's even if the story turns out with the League alive at the end.

As for being pro-cop--cops are human individuals, yes. But people have in recent years in multiple countries (including Japan, by the way) protested against cops being used as tools to maintain social hierarchies wherein people who are not part of that hierarchy suffer for daring to want to be treated as human beings. When I say I'm anti-cop, I'm not saying I hate anyone on the basis of being a cop. But I am saying that the ways in which the police force are used in many countries does societal harm. Critical thinking, yo.

Honestly I feel like this whole story (BNHA) and fans reactions throughout (especially when compared to other stories) demonstrate how people are not using critical thinking. And that can have real world consequences, though it doesn't have to.

I just find it weird that people are okay with a story where the ruling class is always right and always wins. Like... how have they not? I mean, even stories that end up suggesting the ruling class isn't entirely wrong or show flaws in rebellions generally don't go hard on the authoritarianism. But Horikoshi... is doing this.

The whole thing is so weird to me personally, too, because Horikoshi's wishy-washy framing and switches in coding generally seem to be the result of him caring, deeply, what his audience thinks and feels. Too much, really, but it also seems like he genuinely doesn't want to hurt people. Except this ending--even if Tenko does reappear as New Character and saves the League--is the exact opposite. (If Tenko doesn't reappear, then everything I'm about to say is multiplied by a thousand.)

It's catering to mean-spiritedness, and while I do understand fiction isn't reality, the side he's catering to now is making the argument that fictional crimes are real crimes and thus must meet real penalties.

I can play this game too.

If people are gonna make those arguments, I'm going to say they're the problem and the reason we have wars, genocides, assaults, and more.

If you ever want a cycle of violence/abuse to stop, someone has to accept that they've taken the last punch. Not keep going until the other side is WIPED OUT.

If you equate justice with equalizing losses, then you are enacting Dazai from BSD's statement on justice: justice is a weapon. You can never heal by it.

If you want to heal, you have to stop fighting and bandage wounds. And maybe you are too injured to do the bandaging. That's okay. But someone else can, and if you try to stop them on the premise of "but no one bandaged my wounds" you're a bitter person who makes the world a worser place.

If you say a tragedy is the story, sure. But you have to set up tragedies from the start. See, Attack on Titan, which's ending I love. It began with someone crying and an ominous message to the future. You don't set up your first chapter with "this is the story of how I become the greatest hero!" spend 200+ chapters criticizing hero society and have the hero fail at the goal he'd been repeating for 200 chapters in the end and join hero society and still think you wrote a story that delivered in what you promised. You failed.

Either you wrote a tragedy and are trying to pass it off as a happy story (see how well that works usually) or your understanding of a happy story is pretty much just fascist propaganda. And yes, BNHA does have fascist themes at this point. Way more than AoT ever did. But they have smiles and cute frog girls so it's not nearly as dangerous, right? (sarcastic).

The thing is, this is where the lack of critical thinking comes in. While I've seen people talk a bit about how BNHA seems like copaganda, it's taking things much, much further than other stories usually do and into territory where I'm frankly disturbed.

Yes, BNHA started out as a clever critique of hero society and of the very idea it's now seeming to uphold: that the human instinct (which is universal in real life to) to idolize people leads to a lack of humanity for those who do not have those traits we idolize, whether their fault or not, and for people to become villains in response. But not only has it failed to deliver on this premise by upholding society (hey, Naruto and to a degree Tokyo Ghoul also failed to completely change society), it's gone so far as to endorse what it previously criticized.

It's more akin to Game of Thrones Season 8 upholding racism, sexism, and classism, than it is to Naruto or Tokyo Ghoul. GoT ended with a joke about prioritizing brothels being open, as if the misogyny was actually a good thing and not what caused a lot of the problems. There's no critical lens here. It's just like "hey, there was no point in struggling. Monarchies that abuse women, rah rah, let's go!"

BNHA seems to be going a similar route. Deku's murder of Shigaraki, Ochaco's crying over Toga, the way Shouto reaches out to Touya--it's sad, but not framed as something the audience should see as a wrong done on behalf of heroes. In fact, the heroes are not criticized at all. Frickin' Edgeshot, whom no one cares about, is fine. All of them are fine. Their statuses are generally fine, too, except maybe Enji's and even then he's not like going to face the fate of the League and die alone. His family still supports him. Hawks is completely fine and framed positively. His regret over Twice is pure lipservice. Deku really did just need to kill Shigaraki, and all his "I want to save" spiel, much like Ochaco's, is for naught. He just needed to learn to grow up and get in line.

Even if Tenko comes back, and even if Deku like... somehow knew this would happen via vestiges or whatnot (let's be real, he will if this is the case), and the message is just that society isn't ready to move forward, but at least they can live, then... I don't know, y'all. That's still depressing. I don't see how Deku is a hero for that, much less the greatest number one hero. He decided to be a hero at the cost of his own integrity, and if this was a gritty story about the realistic struggle of living in a capitalistic society where ethics are always compromised that would make sense, but... it's not. Even until the final battle, the characters were endorsing idealism.

At the very least, Horikoshi didn't deliver on his promise in the first chapter. At the very worst, he's endorsing fascist ideals.

Like, I'm sorry, but "kill this person for the good of society," the violent upholding of oppressive societal hierarchies, the importance of being a cop hero and the way the military hero brutalities are worshipped, the way heroes are lauded and everyone who doesn't get in line with this is punished, went from being criticized to being endorsed. Those are all central elements of fascism.

The little guy deserves to lose, but, but Deku is the little guy, so it can't be! Except it can be. Because it's actually pretty common irl even to trot out examples of people like Candace Owens to be like "hey, you can't possibly say Republicans are racist!"

And don't you dare say "but Japanese culture makes it unreasonable to expect a non retributive justice!" The Japanese people are not a monolith. Not to mention... Naruto, Bungou Stray Dogs, Monster, Hunter x Hunter, Yu Yu Hakusho, Mawaru Penguindrum, Oshi no Ko, Dragon Ball, Attack on Titan, and Tokyo Ghoul all say hi.

I hated the TG ending, and still hate it, but I'm not going to say that it upheld the CCG as right all along because it didn't. BNHA thus far is doing that with hero society. And even if the answer is for the League be revived and to leave society or whatever, then how can we be happy Deku is a part of this society? How can we root for him, or his classmates? Is he going to work from the inside to change it? Why wasn't that emphasized beforehand as a theme or struggle?

tl;dr Horikoshi has cooked his story no matter what he does now, and I don't think it's salvageable. Either way it has themes that are disturbing especially considering real world events across the globe, and that people should be more aware of instead of focusing solely on stories that have fascism and monsters in them but don't uphold it.

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 35: The cellar

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Torture / mutilation / time is weird in this one [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The Death Eaters drag you kicking and screaming down the hall. They've managed to disarm you before you could do sustainable damage to any of them. You trash in their hold, trying your best to get out and run. Maybe you even have a chance to snatch your wand.

You let out a groan as they throw you on the ground. A hand reaches out and grabs a fistful of your hair. You whimper and move along with the hand. Bellatrix has a sneer on her face as she presses her wand into your neck.

"For how long have you been spying on us?"

You shake your head as much as her hold permits. "I haven't-"

"LIAR!", she screeches and raises her wand. A hot red flash passes over you before your body contorts painfully. You let out a yell. The feeling of millions of knives piercing your body. "TRAITOR!"

By the time the curse had let up, you're breathless. Your head lulls to the side, tears in your eyes. And to be honest, the only thing you can think about is that you're glad Theo isn't here.

She shoves something in your face. A letter. The same one you wrote during the Ministry hearing. It must have fallen out of your pocket during the chase. Yaxley for sure must have picked it up.

"That isn't... mine." Determined, you look at Bellatrix and give her a sneer. 

Bellatrix raises her hand and strikes you. Your cheek stings and flares up as you feel your nose starting to bleed again. "You dare to betray the Dark Lord?! Betray your own kin?! You should be killed!" Bellatrix raises her wand again, a murderous glint in her eyes.

You don't flinch. If you're going to die, you'll die fighting. Collecting the blood in your mouth, you spit it in Bellatrix's face. An audible gasp goes around the room as they watch the red glob hit her face.

"Go ahead, kill me. You were never my family", you hiss, giving her a cold stare, "I wish you would have rotted away in Azkaban."

Bellatrix shrieks, going absolutely ballistic. She summons a knife and holds you down. First, you’re hit with another round of crucio so you stop struggling in her hold. You can handle that. But then… The point of a knife gets slowly pressed into the flesh of your collarbone before the spell has run its course. You try to wiggle away, crying and sobbing as the pain only multiplies as Bellatrix carves something in your flesh.

It feels like it goes on for hours. At one point you stopped moving, seeing no will to do so. You stare off into the distance, seeing the Malfoy's stand huddled together. Draco looks horrified while Narcissa clings to Lucius. 

Is there no one who would stand up for you? No one would save you from this torture? Yes, but you’ve sent that someone away. For his safety. Yes, everything for Theodore’s safety.

By the time Bellatrix is done, you're halfway passed out. You barely notice how you are grabbed and dragged somewhere. Somewhere dark where the door slams loudly and a heavy lock turns.

You lay curled up on the cold floor, your body twitching and gasping for breath. In between the ringing in your ears, you hear footsteps approaching you.

"Please", you gasp, "no more. Please..." Rolling to your belly, you do your best to crawl away from whomever it may be that is ordered to do your next round of Crucio.

"Miss Black?", asks a soft voice and you stop. You roll back and look at the person who said your name. Mr Olivander

A relieved sob escapes you. At least he won't hurt you. 

The older man — who looks worse for wear — gives you a small smile. "Miss Black- or should I say Mrs Nott? Cedar, almost 13 inches, swishy, with a core of unicorn hair, if I am not mistaken." Mr Ollivander nods and walks off, returning with a lantern. 

With much difficulty, you push yourself into a seated position. "Oh... you're bleeding, dear." He points to your collarbone. You reach out but hiss as the flesh is still tender.

You look around, your eyes adjusting to the dark. "Where are we?"

Mr Ollivander hands you a small bowl of water. Your hands still shake as you take it gratefully and take slow sips. "We're in the cellar." The old man groans as he goes to sit against a wall.

He looks deadly pale and his cheeks are fallen in. "How... how long have you been down here?", you ask carefully. He must be the one you've heard screaming a while back.

Mr Olivander's shoulders slump. "I'm afraid I do not know. Time moves differently down here. It's made so no witch or wizard can use their magic to escape." 

The wandmaker spoke the truth. Despite the once-a-day meals — at least, you think it is. Could be a once-in-many-days with the way your body aches — there is no indicator if it's day or time. 

Draco often sneaks you and Mr Olivander extra food. It's mostly in the form of an apple which he rolls through the bars of the door. You turn away every time he whispers your name, his hands clutching the bars tightly. Only after he leaves deflated, do you scramble to eat the apple. 

As time passes Mr Olivander and you get cellmates. At first, it's Griphook. He's a sour man who distrusts any who's a witch or wizard. He mostly sits in the corner and grumbles to himself.

Next is Luna. You're actually happy and at the same time sad to see her. You throw your arms around her and squeeze her tightly. "Are you okay? Are you broken? Does something bleed?" You turn her over and rake your eyes over her front to see if any blood has seeped into her clothes.

"I am fine. I however do not know where I am." She looks around before her eyes fall on Mr Olivander. She makes her way over to him and strikes up a conversation as if it's a normal Tuesday at tea time.

Running a hand over your face, you turn towards her. "What date is it?"

"The Christmas break has just started."

The shock dawns upon you when you count out the months. It's been three months. Three months trapped in this blasted cellar. You knew it was more than a couple of weeks, as your wound has healed and is only a scar now. 

Oh Merlin, Theo must think that you've died. That either Bellatrix or Voldemort have killed you. Tortured you before ending your life abruptly and too soon.

You slide down a wall, hand clasped over your mouth as tears spill out of your eyes. You stay like that for Salazar knows how long. The heartache of the idea that Theodore mourns your death makes you immobile with sorrow. It feels pointless to move if you can't communicate with him that you're indeed alive.

What you can only assume are months passing by before something happens. There is screaming from upstairs before someone's coming down the stairs. You hide in the dark, pressing yourself up against the wall as two people get pushed inside. 

The two figures rush towards the gate. "What are we gonna do? We can't leave Hermione alone with her."

Luna slowly creeps forward and calls out a name. "Ron? Harry?"

The two figures turn around and as a light flickers on, it indeed are Ron and Harry. Harry's face looks pretty busted up.

Slowly everyone comes out of their hiding spot now. The two boys' eyes fall upon you. Harry rushes towards you, wanting to hug you. But you flinch away, hiding behind a pillar. Harry stops with a frown on his face. "What happened to you?"

An agonising scream is heard from upstairs and your stomach drops as you recognise the voice. Hermione. "Oh no", you whisper, moving closer to the door. You flinch as she screams out. Involuntarily, a whimper escapes you. You can imagine what Bellatrix is doing with her.

"We have to do something!" Ron turns towards the group, a distraught expression on his face.

Mr Olivander shakes his head. "There is no way out of here. We've tried everything! It's enchanted."

Another whimper escapes you and you lean your forehead against the icy bars as Hermione pleads and screams.

Harry crouches down and takes something out of his sock. A shard or something. He speaks to it, begging for help. 

Wormtail comes scurrying down the stairs, wand in hand and pushing Ron and Harry away. He takes Griphook before he's gone again. 

Ron returns the light and at the moment Dobby appears. He stumbles a bit but is overall happy to see Harry. "Dobby? What are you doing here?"

"Dobby has come to rescue Harry Potter of course! Dobby will always be there for Harry Potter!"

You take a good look at the elf. It has been some years since you've seen him. Harry actually made Lucius free Dobby in your second year. You know that because your uncle loudly complained to the whole manor how annoying it was that they lost a house elf.

Dobby seems to spot you and bows to you. "Miss Black! It is good to see you alive."

You give him a small and tired smile. "Happy to see you too, Dobs."

"Wait- are you saying you can apparate in and out of this room?", Harry realises. Of course, the Dark Lord's minions didn't house elf-proof the cellar. They're idiots. 

And so a plan is hatched. Dobby firstly take you, Luna, and Mr Olivander to some address Ron provided.

"No", you protest, "I want to help. I want to fight. I want to hurt them like they hurt me!" Tears fill your eyes.

Harry shakes his head. "You're in no condition to fight. You have to go to safety."

Reluctantly, you hold one of Dobby's hands with Luna and you are pulled and squeezed before you land on something wett. Sand. 

Hurling, you puke up the joke of a meal you've been provided with. Falling over, you lay on your back and stare up at the sky. Never once in your life, you've been so happy to see it being overcast.

Pressing the balls of your hands into your eyes, the first whimper escapes you before you start to weep. You're okay. It's finally over. You're out of that blasted cellar.

The only clear though is that you have to find a way to track down your Teddy and hope he hasn't been doing anything stupid in your name.

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[balkanradfem]

So, I've been reading 'Seeds of Hope' by Jane Goodall, because I am curious to what other people are saying about plants, and this book truly delivered. I've been introduced to some past plant drama in the world and that was incredible lore that should have been taught in history.

Apparently, when people first discovered tulips, they were so intensely valuable and popular, that people would trade huge amounts of money, diamonds, or even acres of land, for just one bulb. People were pre-paying for bulbs that didn't even exist yet, they would pre-order bulbs that are not yet even made. One servant ate a bulb thinking it was an onion and he got jail time for it. And I mean they're all correct, tulips just are that good.

There was also a lot of, much sadder drama about orchids; I didn't know this, but they originally grow very high up in the trees, and people were competing for discovering new and rare species. These rare and exotic species would then be displayed in rich people's gardens. Because they became so valuable, poachers would go trough the forests and take almost all of the orchids in there, making them near extinct in nature. This was resolved by orchid gardeners carefully growing them, multiplying and sharing to the point where they were sold commercially, which lessened their value on the black market, so there was no need to pillage them from the forests anymore. Growing rare plants is protection of them!

The book goes on to talk about botanic gardens, herbariums, and the value of collecting and archiving plant material, which is then showing us the effects of climate change, and stores valuable information about what is happening to the plants. It made me want to start a herbarium for sure, I'm always stressed about the loss of local plants, and it's happening more and more as green areas are cleared out.

The book touches upon plants that people have found harmful, such as plants that people make drugs out of; she clears it out to us that these plants are sacred to the native people who grew up with them, and creating drugs from them is in fact, abuse of these plants, and offensive to the communities who hold them sacred, and use them in appropriate doses as medicine. The book talks a lot about plant medicine! Apparently the pharmacy companies have been learning the knowledge about medicinal plants from native people who knew how to use plant medicine, and then the pharmacy would make medicine from those same plants, and profit off of it, without giving any credit or profit to the communities they got this knowledge from, which is not great. But then the demand for this medicine would go so high, they would go and gather all, or almost all medicinal plants from the areas where native people lived, devastating their medical supplies and natural habitats. Book goes on to question the ethics of acquiring medicine in this way, and never informing people where it came from, or what was sacrifices in order for the world to have it.

Similar things happened with valuable crops that are grown in native areas; once the demand for these crops grew, big monocrop fields were established, damaging the land and the local ecosystem, killing millions of animals who lived there, and sometimes forcing people or children into modern slavery, in order to grow them. Coffee, cocoa beans, vanilla beans, palm oil; they've been described as specifically devastating for the communities and the environment. But the book doesn't condemn these foods at all, instead the author goes on to describe, what has been done to improve this. Instead of monocrops, which are devastating for the environment, people are now taught to grow fruit trees in the same fields as coffee, which makes the coffee plants healthier and stronger, and creates and environment where some plants and animals can thrive. I personally don't believe you should have only 2 or 3 plants in a big area, I think you need about 3 millions, but it's a progress from monocrops.

The author describes finding and helping the local farmers who found ways to healthy, natural and non-damaging growing of these plants, and she helped them sell it! She also encourages buying organic food because it helps if the demand for non-monocrop food is growing.

Now there's a section of the book standing strongly against GMO foods, and for some reason I never heard any arguments against gmo, I didn't understand much about the harm coming from them, so I was very curious to hear this. The author explained how 47 million dollars was spent just for lobbying for GMO, which explains why all my information on gmo was positive, and I remember hearing it was 'the best way to reduce world hunger', but the world hunger is still a problem, so it obviously did not succeed. But now I have a better understanding of what it is.

GMO foods were specifically developed to have pesticides inside of them, so they'd be poisonous to pests, but not to people eating them. The research on whether they're poisonous to animals showed that the animals who ate them long term, had their inner organs irritated, enlarged, stomach infections, and had higher risk of cancer. So it was not proven to be safe, but it ended up in the stores anyway; the author says that about 70% of food in american supermarkets has unlabelled gmo, which is scary to think about. She also explains that this is the reason so many people in america are now trying to grow food at home, they don't want to be poisoned by pesticides.

GMO foods were specifically designed to support monocrops, and to protect them pests; this worked out in creating more and more bugs that are resistant to the pesticides, and farmers have reported the appearance of 'superbugs', which are resistant to any kind of pesticide. There's now also 'superweeds', which are resistant to herbicide. The industry is trying to develop new pesticides and new herbicides, in order to counter these new problems, but it is obvious that they're only sinking deeper and deeper; monocrops are unsustainable. Poisoning the earth and the plants, and even the seeds, is not going to lead to the end of world hunger. Farmers are often ending up losing their entire farms due to new bugs that are now thriving because all of their competition has been eliminated by pesticides, they're now the only bug and they can eat up the entire crop easily.

The other problem of GMO crops is that they're spreading their seeds and mixing with the natural crops, making them into GMO crops as well. According to the author the canola crops has already been lost, now all canola existing is genetically modified.

I'm dissatisfied with this knowledge, but it's better to know and be aware rather than to be in the dark. The author suggests designing living spaces that have gardens in them, and encouraging local community to garden, as well as planting city gardens, where food would grow for everyone. She goes on to describe the efforts of universities and cities who already had built their own living gardens in order to support the community, and how it worked to create a more beautiful, life-sustaining, happier place. She even explained how having local gardens makes the crime rate lower.

I loved this book, it had the environment awareness that can only be compared to Greta Thunberg's book, it described trees and plants so lovingly, and the connection people have with them. It showed me there's so many people fighting to save the forests and grasslands and native plants, and it's an effort that will make a big difference to how we get to live on this planet in the future.

[ashisgreedy]

Aesop Sharp x F!Char

Smutober - Oct 6: Bathtub

Tags: Smut 18+ | All chars over 18+ |Bath Together| Fingering | Orgasm Control | Married |

WC: 2,700

Winding down for the evening, the couple drew a bath together, adding bubbles to the hot water and a scoop of lavender bath salts. The aroma of the bathroom mixed with the steamy air was already making her tight muscles relax.

“Go ahead and get in.” She urged her husband.

Aesop had already disrobed and was pulling out two large fluffy white towels from the cabinet for when they were done. He kissed the top of her head and tested the water with his hand.

“It might be a bit too hot for you.” He said, knowing how she preferred the temperature after all these years together.

“I’ll…” She reached in to test the water herself. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I just need to get in slowly.”

Aesop gave her a small smile. “Stubborn as always.”

She sent him a playful wink and pushed on his back. “Go on, get in already.”

As he stepped into the tub, he turned off the running faucet and settled in with his back against the far side. The bubble bath solution had multiplied so much that his sudden movement made puffs of bubbles detach and float around the room.

She pulled all her hair to one side and peered into the tub. Aesop patted the water in front of him. “Ready when you are.”

She took a deep breath and stuck her foot into the water. It wasn’t as hot as she thought it would be, but she definitely couldn’t just dive in like her husband had. Slowly she put her weight on her foot and then added the second one. He held her hips while she held onto the side of the tub, slowly dipping into the heated water. She hissed when she sank chest-deep below the bubbles.

“Not too bad?” Aesop asked, moving so she could relax against his chest comfortably. Despite his height, they both fit snugly into the warm bath together.

“No, it’s perfect.” She sighed, resting her head on his shoulder. She looked up and caught his eye as he gazed down at her.

Sharp moved his arms from resting on the side of the tub to wrap around her smaller frame. He kissed the top of her head and they stayed like that for a long moment.

The bubble bath foam crackled and fizzed around them as steam rose from the tub. He gave her one last squeeze with his arms then rested his head back against the wall.

“You know,” She started to speak, pushing some of the bubbles against her chest. “Every time we bathe like this, I always have the best sleep after.”

Aesop hums in acknowledgment. He runs his wet hands through his hair, wetting the dark strands. “That’s why I suggested it tonight. You’ve been tossing and turning lately.”

She smiles, nodding slightly. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

He was already rubbing her arm with his large hand, comforting her. “It’s alright. I know you have trouble sleeping sometimes.”

Her heavy sigh made several bubbles burst in the wake of the gust. “Lately I've been waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to go back to sleep for hours.”

Sharp adjusted his legs, bending the good one until his knee poked out of the water. “Is there something on your mind?”

She was quiet for a long moment. “Not any one thing in particular…”

“Is it your job again?” Aesop asks, fingers playing with a lock of her hair that hadn’t been soaked by the tub.

“Kinda…” She looked back at him. His brow was cocked like he didn’t fully believe her. “Okay fine, yes. It’s work. They've been… just insufferable lately. My only reprieve has been those books your sister brought me to read.”

“Escaping the problem is one way to handle it, but.” His right hand finds hers resting at the bottom of the tub. He twines his fingers with hers and pulls her hand up to kiss along her knuckles. “You could just quit.”

“But… what would I do with my day?” Her voice was quiet. Was he really suggesting she leave her job? They had absolutely no money troubles and she mostly worked to fill her days so it wasn't that much of a shock to know he didn't mind her leaving her job. 

Aesop chuckled. “Whatever you want to do. Eventually, if you get bored again, you can find something to do part of the time.”

She nodded. “I will think about it.”

He leaned down close to her ear. “I know you will.” He kissed the side of her head and ran his hands up and down her arms. “I support whatever decision you make.”

She knew he would always support her. A small smile crept up on her face. There was a solution to her restless nights and hope filled her chest for the first time in months. She rested her head back and allowed his hands to continue their exploration of her body under the surface of the water.

He rested his head against hers and used his fingertips to run along her skin. His hands moved over her torso and down to her legs. He went as far as he could reach then moved back up to touch her chest. He rested his palms on her breasts and his wife relaxed back fully onto him.

The mood began to shift as his hands focused on her chest, lingering for a long moment. His chest rose as he took in a deep breath. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered in a low voice.

She took in a deep breath herself, allowing her muscles to relax in the heated water. “Thank you.”

Aesop’s hands slowly rubbed circles over her breasts, fingertips grazing her nipples. Her soft gasps egged him on to focus more of his attention on the soft peaks. He kissed down to her ear, leaning forward to make his way to kiss her neck. He bit down lightly while his pointing finger and thumb pinched down on her nipples and rolled the bud between them.

She moaned at his touch, breathing deep and filling her lungs with the steamy lavender-scented air. Sharp’s lips trailed to her shoulder, nipping the skin, before moving back up to lick the cuff of her ear.

“I want you to relax. Let me take care of you.” Aesop whispers into her ear, his deep voice sending chilled bumps down her arm despite the heated water they were dipped in.

She focused on the sound of his breathing in her ear and the intermittent drip from the faucet. His left hand slid over her torso, moving to cup her between the legs.

Slowly, she parted her legs farther for him and he hummed in approval. His middle finger ran up her slit, circled her clit, then ran back down to her entrance. He did this over and over until she felt her body come alive.

“Focus… just- right there.” She asked when his finger centered on her clit.

“Let me play.” Was all Aesop said before using a second finger to delve deeper into her folds.

Two fingers prodded her entrance, teasing their way in and out incrementally. She sighed, loving the stretching sensation.

He moved his digits back to her clit, finally focusing on the swelling nub. Her hips jerked when he pressed down, causing water to ripple beneath the layer of fizzing bubbles.

“Relax, and enjoy yourself,” Sharp said, lips finding the crook of her neck. His stubble poked at her skin, adding to the sensation of his soft lips.

It wasn’t long before her quiet sounds turned to moans, echoing off the tile walls of the bathroom. His fingers circled just right, the way he had learned long ago that she liked. His fingers moved with dizzying accuracy. She rocked her hips in kind with his movements, adding the extra layer of pleasure that was needed to take her to the edge.

“Not yet,” Aesop teased as he whispered in her ear. “Can you hold it for a bit longer?”

She gulped, flexing her abdominal muscles hard, holding off on the release that was just on the cusp. “Yes.” She gripped his thigh, squeezing the longer his finger swirled.

It was going to happen and come crashing down on her any second, but she held off the orgasm for a bit longer at his request. She pressed her head back into his firm chest, feeling her thighs start to tingle.

“Please…” She whispered, not sure how much longer she could stave it off.

“Not yet.” His usual rough tone sounded amused in her ear.

She bit her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut. Her legs began to tremble while his fingers rubbed her clit in exactly the perfect way to make her pop.

"Please! I don't think I can hold off much longer." She admitted, hands balling into fists.

The low chuckle that fell from his lips made her stomach flip. "I'll let you cum-"

"Oh thank you!"

"-In just a few more seconds." His lips trailed her neck.

"Please…" Whimpers started to escape her. She rocked her hips in a way that would try to remove his fingers from her sensitive spot. Aesop wasn't having any of that. He used his free arm to anchor her torso in place against his body.

Her abdominal muscles began to ache the longer she held back. "I can't wait any longer…" Her heart throbbed in her ears.

"Count backward from three." He spoke in a low sultry voice.

"What?!" She gasped.

"Count backward. Three." He started

"Th-three" Her legs trembled.

"Two."

"Two!" She moaned.

He paused for a long moment. "...one."

"One."

"Cum for me." He commanded.

She relaxed her abdominal muscles and took in a deep breath. A wash of pleasure rushed over her, pulsing from her core all the way out to her extremities. The sensation buzzed in her head, and she felt slickness build between her legs.

"Thank you thank you thank you" The words rushed out of her while the pleasure continued.

He hadn't let up one bit. The pressure from his two fingers continued in a circular motion throughout her entire orgasm.

She hummed and finally relaxed her head back against his chest. She reached down to push on his hand to indicate her release was done. Sharp's fingers travel down her slit and slowly pressed inside of her.

"Mmm.." She vocalized. Her body prepared itself to come back down to baseline, but the way his fingers were pressing into her and sliding over her G-spot kept her heart rate up at a rapid pace. "Oh gods… I'm so-"

"Sensitive?" His forehead pressed against the side of her face while his lips ghosted over the shell of her ear. "That's what I was hoping for."

She let out a long moan as his two fingers delved deeper. His erection strained against her back, pressing against her spine. He neglected himself, though, pumping his fingers right against her sweet spot again and again.

At this point, most of the bubbles had burst in the bath, leaving a small film of tiny translucent bubbles floating on the surface. With this view, she could watch as her husband's arm flexed and moved while he fingered her.

She rocked her body and turned her head enough to angle toward him. Sharp took the opportunity to give her a slow simmering kiss on the lips. His jaw flexed as he kissed her, tongue darting out to tease the seam of her mouth. The faster he pumped his fingers the more the water sloshed around.

He used his free hand to capture her chin, holding her face steady while they shared a passionate kiss. His tongue delved passed her lips just as he pressed a third finger into her pussy. The moan she let out was muffled by their kiss.

Whisps of his hair tickled her skin. He leaned into the kiss more, sloshing a bit of water out of the tub and onto the floor.

She pressed her feet to the far side of the tub and used the leverage to ride his fingers. Sharp groaned into her mouth. While her hips gyrated, her back rubbed against his hard cock making him moan. Despite all the commotion, Aesop's fingers steadily fingered her at the same pace consistently.

A rush washed over her and she felt the telltale sign of her release just on the horizon. "Oh GODS! Aesop!" She moaned his name, breaking their kiss to toss her head back.

He hummed, finally pumping his fingers into her faster. "I love the way your face looks when you're about to cum."

The muscles in her abdomen clenched and her cunt pulsed on his fingers. She arched back while pleasure radiated through her body once again.

His lips were on her neck again, keeping his fingers deep inside her. He kissed and licked at her skin while his wife came down from her high.

"Wow…" She finally spoke a coherent word.

"Ready to get out?" Aesop asked.

She realized just how cool the water had gotten and how little bubbles there were left. The water still smelled lovely of lavender from the salts.

"Let me catch my breath" She smiled back at him.

He kept his fingers inside her, keeping her stretched and full. She could feel just how wet she was despite the water mixing with her slick. They stayed like that for a long moment, both breathing deeply.

After a while, he kissed her on the cheek. "Hold tight." He instructed her. He gently moved her forward and slowly stood from the tub. Water rushed off him, dripping down his chest to his thighs. He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself then unfolded the other one. "Alright, come here. I'll dry you off."

She smiled at him and did as she was told, standing from the cooling water and walking right into the towel. He braced his hip against the countertop and began rubbing the towel over her arms and torso. He then wrapped it around her and aimed her at the door.

"Go ahead and get into bed, I'll drain the tub and wipe down the floor." He said.

She almost protested but he raised his brows. Her lips were sealed as she made her way to the bed, knowing an argument with him was fruitless. She heard the water drain and the cabinet door open.

She settled under the covers, dropping her towel onto the floor. After several minutes, Sharp turned the light off in the bathroom and made his way over to the bed without his towel. She eyed his nude body, watching him make his way to his usual side of the bed. With a click of the string, he turned the side table lamp off.

Sliding under the covers, he pulled her into an embrace. Their lips met in a gentle kiss that slowly grew more heated. She wrapped her leg around his waist and felt his still hard erection pressing against her.

Without a word, he angled his cock to enter inside her. She was already fully prepped and he slid inside easily. She inhaled while he wrapped his arms around her, pushing her to lay on her back.

"I don't want you waking me up again tonight." He stated, starting to slowly pump into her. "No more tossing and turning this way and that. I'm going to wear you out and you're going to be too exhausted to wake up in the middle of the night."

She gives him a breathless chuckle. "Is that your evil plan?" She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.

"Oh, yes." He teased. "It was quite a sinister plan." 

"How will I ever forgive you?" She played along. He gave her a sultry smile before kissing her deeply. 

Tangled together, he did as he said he would. She was absolutely exhausted from the events of the night. After they had sex on the bed, she was properly tuckered out. He had started by soothing her at the beginning of the night and thoroughly exhausted her to where she couldn't even keep her eyes open by the end. They slept through the entire night in each other's arms, her resting her head on his chest. She didn't wake until the sun had risen the next morning, her first good night of sleep in weeks. 

[alilixx]

Henyoo!! :3 Can I please request a House M.D. married polyamorous Hudson (House x Cuddy x Wilson) AU and them having two daughters together? Maybe half domestic fluff at home and half ridiculous shenanigans at the hospital with House's DDX team finding out about all of this by slowly piecing together clues? Much appreciation if you do this one, thanks in advance! XD <3

Ahah i love the idea! First time i didn't write about a character x Reader but why not (i love them sm too dw).

The throuple was pure chaos, at least on the inside, but from the outside, no one would have guessed, except for House and those close to him, like his team. Of course, it took some time for it to become obvious. Cameron was the first to notice the small detail that seemed insignificant: how often Wilson and Cuddy were eating together.

For Wilson, this didn't seem unusual. He was used to eating with his patients, with House, with everyone, really. But Cuddy? Cuddy was the type to eat alone, stuck in her office between meetings or while catching up on paperwork. Seeing her in the cafeteria, and not just to scold House, but actually having lunch with Wilson, was the first clue that Cameron picked up on.

At first, she didn’t pay much attention, thinking it was perhaps just a coincidence. But as days went by, the lunches became more frequent. Cameron then began to observe, mentally noting these moments that were multiplying: a shared coffee break here, a knowing smile there, conversations that seemed longer and more animated than usual. She talked to Chase and Foreman about it, who initially shrugged, skeptical. "You're imagining things," Chase would say. "Wilson is sociable; Cuddy and he are probably just talking about the hospital and the stress House causes them."

But for Cameron, there was more to it. She knew Cuddy and Wilson well enough to know that it wasn’t just about work. And then there was House, who, while always hiding his true feelings behind a cynical facade, seemed a bit more irritable every time Cuddy and Wilson were together. The looks he gave when he caught them laughing, whispering secrets, all of this only strengthened Cameron's suspicions.

Of course, the young woman tried to bring it up with the team again. After observing Wilson, Cuddy, and House for several weeks, Cameron could no longer ignore the signs. The muffled laughter, the knowing glances, and those meetings in the cafeteria that seemed to last a bit longer than they should. Something was off, and she couldn’t keep it to herself any longer. One morning, while the team was gathered in the diagnostic room, she decided to bring up the subject.

"Have you noticed anything strange with House, Wilson, and Cuddy lately?" she asked, breaking the silence as Foreman and Chase were reviewing the latest results of a patient.

Chase looked up, intrigued. "You mean apart from the fact that they all act weird most of the time?"

Foreman, always pragmatic, frowned. "I see where you're going with this, Cameron. They do seem closer. But that doesn’t mean anything. They've always been close friends."

Cameron shook her head. "No, it’s different this time. I’ve seen them together several times, and it wasn’t just work conversations. There’s something more. And House... he seems strangely calm when the three of them are together. As if he knows something we don’t."

This revelation caught Chase's attention. "What are you suggesting? That we start our own little investigation on our colleagues?" Cameron shrugged. "I just want to understand what’s going on. And I’m sure you’ve noticed things too."

At first, Foreman and Chase remained skeptical, but little by little, they started paying more attention to the interactions between House, Wilson, and Cuddy. What seemed like simple coincidences became harder to ignore: exchanged smiles, moments of silence that seemed to say a lot, and the way they synchronized without even speaking. As the weeks went by, the mystery deepened.

Eventually, the team couldn’t resist the temptation to conduct their own investigations. They began asking subtle questions, closely monitoring their habits, and exchanging theories. All this was done without the trio realizing they were the subject of an unofficial investigation.

But of course, nothing really escaped House. He quickly started to notice that his team was particularly curious about him, and he mentioned it to Wilson and Cuddy. One evening, the three of them met in Cuddy’s office, laughing about the situation.

"You really let them think they could figure us out?" Wilson asked, laughing. House smiled, amused. "Why not? It keeps them busy. And besides, it’s quite entertaining to watch them try to play detectives."

Cuddy shook her head, a smile on her lips. "They won’t give up until they know the truth. You know that, House." House shrugged. "Maybe. But it’s not like they could ever understand what we have, anyway."

Months passed, and as the team continued searching for clues, the throuple increasingly enjoyed their attempts. The tension of keeping their relationship secret became less and less burdensome because they knew that as long as they were together, they could overcome anything.

One day, news changed everything. Cuddy announced to Wilson and House that she had decided to adopt a little girl, Rachel. It was a decision she had thought about for a long time, and she knew it would change their dynamic, but she felt ready.

Wilson smiled when he heard the news. "Rachel, huh? That's a beautiful name." House, surprisingly, seemed moved. "You know this is going to make everything even more complicated, right?"

Cuddy nodded. "I know. But I think it’s the right thing to do. And I want both of you to be there, for her and for me." Wilson took Cuddy's hand in his, and House joined them, placing his hand on theirs.

In the days following Rachel's arrival in Cuddy's life, the throuple, of course, was different now. At first, they had to adapt to this new presence, this little girl who demanded all the attention and time Cuddy could give her. House and Wilson, although not really knowing how to handle a baby, did their best to support Cuddy in her new life as a mother.

One sunny Saturday afternoon, Cuddy suggested taking Rachel to the park. She thought it would be a good opportunity for all of them to relax a bit. House, who wasn’t particularly thrilled about the idea of spending time in a crowded park, grumbled a bit but eventually gave in to Cuddy’s persistent request.

When they arrived at the park, Wilson quickly spread out a blanket on the grass while Cuddy placed Rachel on the ground, surrounded by a few colorful toys. House sat down next to them, his sunglasses hiding part of his face, observing the scene with a feigned look of indifference.

Rachel, curious about her new surroundings, started crawling on the blanket, grabbing one of her toys and chewing on it happily. Wilson smiled, amused by the little girl’s boundless energy.

"She seems to be having a good time," Wilson said, turning to Cuddy, who was watching Rachel with obvious tenderness.

"Yes," she replied, her eyes shining with pride. "I think she likes being outside. She’s so curious about everything."

House, who had been silently observing the scene, suddenly leaned forward and grabbed one of Rachel's toys. He held it up in front of her, shaking it slightly to catch her attention. Rachel, intrigued, reached out for the toy, bursting into laughter when House lifted it out of her reach.

Wilson laughed. "You know, you could at least try to be nice." House shrugged, a sly smile on his face. "I’m just teaching her a life lesson: you can’t always get what you want."Cuddy rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. "Yes, but maybe we could be a bit gentler with her, don’t you think?"

House looked at Rachel, who was staring at him with innocent curiosity, and he felt something inside him relax a little. He lowered the toy and handed it to Rachel, who grabbed it joyfully, letting out a little cry of victory. "I guess I can make an exception," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else.

Of course, there were plenty of little cute moments like that. Especially with Rachel, people who didn’t know them might think House wasn’t affectionate, given the love Wilson and Cuddy showed Rachel, but it was the opposite.

She and Wilson crossed paths in the hallway, clearly exhausted. "What are we going to do about Rachel?" Cuddy asked, worried. "I can’t leave the hospital right now, and she can’t be left alone any longer."

Wilson quickly thought through possible solutions. "I could call someone, maybe a friend, but it will take time..."

House, who happened to be passing by, caught their conversation. "Looking for someone to babysit the little terror?" he asked with his usual sarcastic tone, but there was a hint of something else in his voice, something softer.

Cuddy and Wilson exchanged a glance. They knew House wasn’t exactly the first choice for looking after a baby, but they were out of options.

"House, would you be willing to take care of Rachel tonight?" Cuddy asked, her voice tinged with both hope and doubt. House rolled his eyes but sighed. "Yeah, why not. I don’t have anything better to do anyway."

So House found himself driving to Cuddy’s house. He couldn’t help but smile, imagining what his team would think if they saw him in this situation. Upon arriving, he entered cautiously, not wanting to wake Rachel if she was already asleep.

Rachel was awake, sitting in her playpen with her toys, and as soon as she saw House, she let out a little cry of joy. House couldn’t help but smile despite himself. "Well, looks like you’re stuck with me tonight, kiddo."

He sat down next to her and watched her play for a while. Rachel, with her usual energy, began reaching out toys towards him, babbling happily. House, unfamiliar with this kind of play, clumsily tried to participate, shaking the toys as he had seen Cuddy and Wilson do.

Minutes turned into hours, and soon, Rachel began showing signs of tiredness. House gently picked her up, rocking her as he had seen Cuddy do. Against all odds, Rachel quickly calmed down, resting her head on his shoulder, her eyes slowly closing.

House found himself on the couch, lying down with Rachel cuddled against him. He was surprised to find himself enjoying this unexpected moment of calm, the comforting warmth of the little girl against him. Before long, the fatigue from his day overcame him, and he fell asleep, Rachel peacefully asleep in his arms.

Wilson and Cuddy arrived a few hours later, exhausted from their long day at the hospital. Entering quietly into the house, Cuddy signaled Wilson to be quieter so as not to wake Rachel. They walked down the hallway to the living room, expecting to find House probably slumped on the couch, feet on the coffee table.

What they saw stopped them in their tracks. There, on the couch, House was lying down, Rachel nestled against his chest, her little arms around him. Both were sleeping deeply, their breaths synchronized in a soothing rhythm.

Cuddy put a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with surprise. "I never would have thought I’d see this," she murmured, a tender smile forming on her lips.

Wilson also smiled, warmth filling his heart as he saw the scene in front of them. "Who would have thought House could be so... gentle?" he whispered, approaching the couch carefully.

Cuddy came closer too, trying not to make any noise. She crouched down softly next to the couch, watching Rachel, peaceful in House's arms. It was an unexpected but beautiful image, and she felt her heart swell with tenderness.

"Should we wake them?" Wilson asked in a low voice, hesitating to break this peaceful moment. Cuddy shook her head, the smile still on her face. "No, let's leave them. They both look comfortable. And besides, it's nice to see House like this."

They stayed there for a moment, just watching, soaking in the unexpected tenderness of the scene. Finally, Cuddy gently draped a blanket over them, covering Rachel and House, before standing up. "I'll prepare something to eat. We can wake them up gently afterward."

Wilson nodded, following Cuddy into the kitchen, casting one last fond glance at House and Rachel. That evening, they had seen another side of House, a softer side.

It was rare for House to be so adorable, to be honest, but don't think it was everywhere; it was only in private. When Rachel came to the hospital, House tried to act normal, but Cameron could see a bit more gentleness, Foreman was sure it was because of some paternal instinct, and Chase didn’t care; he wanted to have that too, so he avoided being there.

Over the months, the relationship between House, Wilson, and Cuddy deepened and became more refined, each day bringing new moments of closeness and affection. Wilson and Cuddy loved this side of House, but who would have thought it? Certainly not them!

One morning, Cuddy woke up before the two men, a rare moment of calm and peace. House and Wilson were still asleep, each on their side of the bed, the soft morning light reflecting on their relaxed faces. Cuddy smiled, appreciating the sight.

She leaned over to Wilson first, placing a light kiss on his lips. He murmured something in his sleep, a smile spreading across his face. Then, she turned to House, kissing him on the cheek, near his stubble.

House opened one eye, grumbling slightly but smiling nonetheless. "Handing out morning kisses again?" Cuddy laughed softly. "There's never a bad time for a kiss."

Wilson woke up as well, opening his eyes to see Cuddy and House talking quietly. "Did I miss something?" he asked, stretching his arms over his head.

"Just Cuddy waking us up gently," House replied with a smile.

Wilson smiled, moving closer to give a kiss to Cuddy and House, a gesture of tenderness and affection that never failed to warm their hearts. "It's the best way to start the day."

As they enjoyed this quiet morning, a thought crossed Wilson's mind, and he felt it was the right moment to share what was on his heart.

Wilson sat up slightly in the bed, his expression becoming a bit more serious. "Cuddy, House, I need to talk to you about something important."

Cuddy also sat up, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "What's going on, Wilson? You seem worried." House, still lying down but now fully awake, raised an eyebrow, ready to listen to what Wilson had to say.

Wilson took a deep breath before continuing. "I got a call from the psychiatric hospital last night. My brother, Danny, is still there, and his situation isn’t really improving. He won't be able to take care of his son, Max, and he has no one else. I think... I think I should adopt him."

A silence filled the room, each of them absorbing the news. Cuddy nodded gently, understanding the weight of the decision Wilson was considering. "Wilson, that's a big decision. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Wilson sighed and nodded. "Yes, I'm sure. Max needs someone, and I can't let my nephew end up in the foster system. I want to be there for him, to give him a family."

House looked at Wilson with a mixture of admiration and challenge. "That's a big step, Wilson. Adopting a child, especially under these circumstances... It's going to change your life. Our life."

Wilson knew that this decision would affect not only him but also their dynamic as a throuple. He was ready to take on this responsibility, but he wanted to make sure that Cuddy and House were also comfortable with the idea. "I understand this will have an impact on all of us. I just want you to know that I'm not expecting anything from you. I just want to be there for Max."

Cuddy squeezed Wilson's hand a little tighter, a reassuring smile on her face. "Wilson, you are one of the most compassionate and generous people I know. If you want to adopt Max, we will be here to support you. To support him."

House rolled his eyes, but there was a barely perceptible smile at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, yeah. We'll just have to learn to get used to having more people in this house. Let's hope the kid isn't as insufferable as you."

Wilson chuckled softly, touched by his partners' support. "Thank you, both of you. It means a lot to me. I know it will be an adjustment, but I truly believe it's the right thing to do."

House leaned over to Wilson, giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "Then let's do it. And if this kid has even a tenth of your kindness, it will be worth it."

Cuddy kissed Wilson in turn, then rested her head on his shoulder. "We’ll be a family for Max, just like we’ve made our own. He’ll have a lot of love here, that’s for sure."

In that moment, wrapped in a warm embrace, Wilson felt that despite the challenges ahead, they were ready to welcome Max into their lives.

The first Christmas the new family spent together was a particularly magical moment, filled with warmth, laughter, and both new and old traditions. Cuddy's house was decorated with string lights, scented candles, and a large holly wreath hanging on the front door. A big Christmas tree stood proudly in the living room, sparkling with golden garlands and ornaments carefully hung by Rachel and Max.

That morning, the house was full of excitement. Rachel woke up first, as usual, and jumped into House and Wilson's bed to wake them up. She was already in her Christmas pajamas, red and green, with a little Santa hat on her head. She bounced on the bed with energy.

"Wake up! It's Christmas!" she shouted joyfully.

Wilson was the first to open his eyes, laughing softly at Rachel's excitement. "Well, it looks like someone is ready to open presents," he said as he sat up.

House, who was not a morning person, grumbled as he turned over, but he smiled when he saw Rachel so happy. "Yeah, yeah, Merry Christmas, little elf," he muttered as he sat up. He couldn’t help but smile at her contagious enthusiasm.

Cuddy, already awake and downstairs, was preparing breakfast. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, pancakes, and bacon filled the air, giving the house an even more festive atmosphere. Max came down the stairs slowly, his eyes still half-closed, but a big smile on his face. He was wearing a Christmas sweater he had insisted on putting on, decorated with a reindeer with a bright red nose.

Cuddy smiled when she saw Max enter the kitchen. "Merry Christmas, Max," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

Max nodded. "Yes, I had a dream about Santa Claus and his reindeer," he said excitedly. "I wonder if he really came!"

Once everyone was gathered around the Christmas tree, they began to open presents. Rachel, impatient, rushed over to the tree and grabbed the first package with her name on it. She tore it open with enthusiasm, revealing a huge teddy bear. "Thank you, thank you!" she shouted, running to hug Cuddy, Wilson, and House in turn.

Max, more reserved, opened his gifts carefully. He received a high-quality drawing set and a collection of books he had mentioned wanting to read. "Thank you so much," he said with a sincere smile, his eyes shining with gratitude.

House, pretending to be bored, theatrically opened his gift to discover a black cashmere scarf. "Well, at least you have good taste," he joked, but you could see in his eyes that he genuinely appreciated the gift.

Wilson opened his own gift, a classic watch with an inscription engraved on the back: "Forever, together." He looked at Cuddy and House with emotion, thanking them with a simple, "It's perfect."

Cuddy opened the last gift. It was a delicate silver necklace with a star-shaped pendant. "It's beautiful," she said, tears in her eyes. "Thank you, really." She leaned in to kiss House and Wilson, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude.

After opening the presents, they all sat around the dining room table for a sumptuous Christmas meal. The table was beautifully set with festive dishes and red and white candles. A large platter of roasted turkey sat in the center, surrounded by mashed potatoes, grilled vegetables, stuffing, and gravy.

Rachel sat next to House, who helped her cut her turkey into small pieces. "You know, Rachel," House said as he handed her a plate, "turkey isn't so bad when you're surrounded by good people."

Cuddy smiled as she served Max some juice. "I agree, House. This year has been full of surprises, and I am so grateful to have this family."

Max raised his glass of fruit juice. "To family," he said with a smile.

"To family," everyone echoed as they raised their glasses.

While Cuddy, House, Wilson, Rachel, and Max were celebrating Christmas in a warm and festive atmosphere, others at the hospital were starting to piece together the puzzle regarding their colleagues' unusual relationship.

Cameron, Chase, and Foreman had spent the past few months observing subtle but significant changes in the behavior of House, Cuddy, and Wilson. The exchanged glances, the knowing smiles, and the hints at events they'd shared together had become too numerous to ignore.

On Christmas Day, the trio found themselves at the hospital for an unexpected shift. They finished their tasks earlier than anticipated and decided to settle in the break room to chat. The conversation quickly drifted toward their colleagues.

"Have you noticed how much they're always together lately?" Cameron asked, glancing at the others. She was, of course, referring to House, Cuddy, and Wilson. "They spend a lot of time with each other, even outside of work."

Chase nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I've seen House and Wilson coming out of Cuddy's office several times after hours. And it doesn't seem like they’re having regular work meetings."

Foreman, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "At first, I thought it was just House being... House. Always trying to get closer to Cuddy. But Wilson too? And both of them? That can't be a coincidence."

Cameron smiled, leaning forward in her chair. "I think you're right. They're more than just friends, that's for sure. Maybe even... together."

Chase raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "You mean, all three of them? It's possible, but it seems... complicated."

Foreman crossed his arms, thinking. "House likes complicated things. And Cuddy and Wilson have always been closer to him than we thought. It could actually work. They all have strong, but complementary personalities."

They stayed silent for a moment, absorbing this new perspective. Cameron, with a sly smile, shook her head. "That would explain a lot of things, actually. Why they're all so happy lately, despite the usual tensions at the hospital."

Chase chuckled softly. "If they're happy, then good for them. They deserve some happiness, especially with everything that's going on here."

Foreman smiled as well, relaxing in his chair. "Yeah, I guess it's none of our business. As long as they keep doing their jobs, that's all that matters."

Cameron nodded, her eyes sparkling with amused curiosity. "I have to say, it's an interesting dynamic. But you're right, Foreman. To each their own private life."

At that moment, the trio burst out laughing, imagining the reactions of the other hospital staff if they found out the truth.

A little later, as they were getting ready to finish their day, they walked past House's office. Through the window, they caught a glimpse of a scene that confirmed their suspicions.

House, Cuddy, and Wilson were sitting around House's desk, sharing laughter, knowing glances, and even tender gestures that left no doubt. House had his hand resting on Cuddy's, while Wilson was smiling softly, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

Chase, Cameron, and Foreman looked at each other, smiles on all their faces. They didn't need any more proof. They walked away quietly, leaving the trio to their moment of happiness.

[patch-doll]

Again And Again

contains: self harm, compulsions

her tail twitches, she's irritated. a bad day after a bad day after a bad day. too much noise, too much light, too much stimulation. she feels like she's getting further and further from being something real.

hey! hey hey hey, your head just passed a few inches from that cabinet as you walked by it. we should turn around and full force slam our head into it. you know it would feel so good.

she stops in place and lets out a drawn out sigh. turning around, she takes two steps and comes to a stop. the wood of the cabinet is pretty, she thinks. she gently rests her head against it, and spends a minute breathing in and out.

oh c'mon you always do this. one day we're gonna slam our head into something as hard as we can and it's going to be such a relief, just you wait.

she's so tired. everything stacks on top of itself and multiplies into something ever more dreadful, until her brain starts making as many problems as the outside world does. she just wishes it could all-

she's ducking down before she even processes what's happening, heart racing and body trembling. gunshot, it was a gunshot- it didn't sound like it was in the building so maybe she has time to panic- it was a gunshot, and she can't breathe right-

until she finds herself sitting on the floor, a knife in her hand, and she's not sure when she got there or how long it's been since she heard the noise, but the light reflecting off the metal grounds her just the slightest bit.

gentle murmurs fill her disjointed mind. it would feel somuchbetter so much better so she lets her hands do what they've known for years, and watches as her skin parts and relief flows down her thigh.

this is real. the pain buzzing over her skin is real. the warmth flowing across her skin is real. something inside her relaxes in the way she only ever feels right here, with her favorite color dripping out of her skin.

she giggles, and feels ridiculous for avoiding one of the few things that actually makes her feel better, makes her feel like this.

she smiles. she's real.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Here's the archived link.

It's an interesting article about the back-and-forth this week over Charles's birthday. Did the Sussexes really call? Did Charles really talk to them?

The backstory: Victoria Ward broke the story that the Sussexes called Charles for his birthday. She says that Harry called and they spoke, and Meghan hopped on the line for a bit to speak, and they separately sent Charles a video of Archie and Lili singing 'happy birthday.'

Some takeaways:

"The fact that the Palace does not deny there was a call means we can safely assume that there was indeed a conversation" -> Not exactly true:

The Palace never comments even if there was a call. Personal calls to the BRF falls under the palace's "we don't speak about their personal lives" mantra.

Charles denying that there was a call would be terrible PR. It's a better strategy to keep quiet and let him rack up some "good Pa" PR points.

Meghan's PR from 2016/2017 claimed she had all sorts of meetings and phone calls with the royals that the Palace never addressed. The Palace's silence complicitness was very much "let's not and say we did," which this whole mess reeks of.

Usually the more specific and detailed something is, the more likely it's a lie. If Harry's press release had been "I called Pa for his birthday" it would be much more believable. But "I called Pa for his birthday and we spoke and then Meghan talked to him and then we had our kids make a video for someone they've never met to sing 'happy birthday' and we sent it to him" is suspect.

"The King always finds it exasperating when the media focuses on what he would see as trivia rather than the important work that he does, and there is a multiplier effect when the distraction involves Harry - doubly so in a week when the King is bracing for the release of the final series of The Crown on Netflix this week, poring over the death of Princess Diana." -> Harry's gotta get that Netflix connection.

"The King and Queen worry that if stories about phone calls and private conversations make it into the public domain they will be accused of leaking to the press, even if it's obvious it didn't come from them." -> The palace isn't Victoria Ward's source, even though it looks like it.

"...[Meghan's] attempt to launch a lifestyle and wellness brand. Planned as a rival to Gwyneth Paltrow's Goop empire, the launch had been heavily trailed for this autumn, but has now been put back to the other side of Christmas, at the earliest. The reason for the delay is unclear, but she has been given a rough ride by the US media of late and may want to wait until her approval ratings recover - something that a healed relationship with the Royal family would surely help." -> Meghan is Victoria Ward's source and:

She has no money (or backers) for the lifestyle and wellness brand.

She's banking on boosting her SEO with The Crown, Scobie's book, and Christmas-at-Sandringham-Reunion PR to make her the money she needs to launch the new brand.

She is expecting the public to take her side when Scobie's book is published.

"Toning down criticism of the King and Queen in any briefings the Sussex camp have given to Scobie is in itself a kind of olive branch" -> Scobie's book is a hit job against William and Catherine.

Interesting how the Sussexes are now openly and publicly admitting to their collaboration with Scobie for Endgame...especially after going to such lengths to obscure their involvement in Finding Freedom.

[idcfriend]

I like to headcannon that Yuu is some sort eldritch being (but not really)

Ok so hear me out, i get that twisted wonderland is like disney but darker so in my head i like to think that while yes gods do exist and have their respective religions maybe in the long long looong past of twst while yes religion was a big thing but CULTS were bigger and still are because of it being a world that tilts more towards the darker aspects of things a bit

So enter Yuu and i like to think prior to them being sent to twisted they had DIED and thus being sent to twisted wonderland was the equivalent of being brought back from the dead and those never happen without SOME sort of consequence, so Yuu ends up having this sort of...darker feeling?

aura?

pressure?

...VIBE? Yes vibe. Anyways but also even though their physically their still the same(...mostly we'll get to that another time) our bodies are fundamentally different from those in twisted wonderland like for example:

Do to it being a magic rich world their bodies don't really have to go through as many changes as ours since they naturally adjust do to magic

Like they don't have to lose their baby teeth since they grow stronger and adjust accordingly as they age(i know it doesn't make sense but i dug this grave and I'm lying in it)

I like to think that since it was a fantasy world instead being descendents from apes like humans in our world they rather evolved from many different magical or mythical creatures so when the prefect shows up displaying several and i mean a lot of different animal behavior everyone is so confused because surely they've evolved past most of those, the only people to display such traits were people of old(i find it funny that most people don't realize that even though we've evolved we still display animal behavior sometimes so I'm taking that and cranking it up to a thousand)

So while we are very good at mimicking sounds and other voices(with practice not that NRC knows that...) they're so confused and slightly horrified at just how MUCH the prefect can mimic: one time you spent the entirety of the day communicating in animal and random noises and while some thought it was cool others were a little scared when they perfectly mimict a several animals distrest or dying sounds ( they didn't know that's what it meant they honestly just wanted to sound scary so they could be left alone)

So here comes Yuu with all their bad juju because you know...death and their somewhat strange anatomy and their knowledge of unknown or even forbidden information from who know when(except maybe Lillia who may or may not have been part of one of those cults) and after a while everyone won't believe Yuu saying their a normal human even if they somehow shared their memories with them because even if they were physically different from everyone they couldn't have a way to explain all the other weird things(that they have no idea even happen... And why hasn't anyone told them?)

The ghost around campus along with Sams "friends" seem oddly comfortable around them even going out of their way to make things easier for the prefect because they feel like they're one of them since technically Yuu is supposed to be you know dead

Or how Yuu's eyes seem to resemble a cats when a light is shined on them or how they slightly glow in the dark(yuu honestly thought them being able to see better in dimly lit places just meant that their eyesight adjusted faster in this world for some reason)

Or how when Yuu appeared they spoke a dead language fluently and how for some reason when their emotions ran high their voice seemed to...multiply or distort

That sometimes Yuu's movements seemed too...stiff to be normal(again technically their supposed dead so their body is not supposed to function)

And others

But everyone ignor-...well not ignore more like embraces? Encourages these differences because much like the ancestors of old, just how many people still practice certain religions some people still worship the beings from those old cults or to be precise the cults were more prominent than any religion, the thing is such cults are one the foundations of NRC(and RSA for that matter) so when Yuu popped up not seeming completely normal and butchering what they consider to be normal human behavior they can't help compare many things that Yuu does or knows to whatever cosmic horror they worshiped

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

OK you have piqued my curiosity. What is Malevolent?

oh i'm so glad you asked :D

malevolent is a horror podcast based on lovecraftian mythos by harlan guthrie, who not only writes, edits, soundscapes, and composes the entire thing, he also voices every single character, by some force of alchemy i don't claim to understand.

the show is about arthur lester, a 1930s private investigator who is english but lives in arkham, massachusetts. he is simultaneously the saddest, wettest cat you'll ever meet, the most terrifying badass with a thirst for violence, the hugest cunt, and the kindest soul who refuses to give up on hope no matter what.

it opens with arthur (temporarily) unable to remember who or where he is. he's completely blind. a voice speaks to him, gentle but totally inhuman. the voice is inside his head, and tells arthur that his eyes belong to it now. there's a dead body at arthur's feet.

there's only so much i can explain without big spoilers, but basically, a book was sent to arthur's office, and when arthur opened this book, an entity from another world was released into him, where it took control of his sight. the entity can't leave of its own volition, and in fact isn't sure who or what it is either. they have no choice but to work together to figure out who sent the book and why, if they ever hope to be able to separate again.

things, of course, aren't that simple. arthur is now wanted for murder, and as arthur starts chasing leads, otherwordly things start chasing him back, including a powerful elder god known as the king in yellow.

arthur spends a month in a coma after being stabbed; when he wakes up, the entity - who has been awake and alone the entire time - tells him that the kind nurse who spoke to them every day called them 'john doe' and the entity... rather liked the sound of it. he asks to be called john.

arthur and john are both incredibly stubborn assholes who fight and bicker more often than not, who both tend to lash out and hurt each other when they're angry or afraid, but as they're forced to cooperate, as john learns about humanity through both arthur's eyes and arthur's extensions of kindness, they grow to care for each other. they grow to trust each other, even after they've betrayed each other.

they grow to love each other. it's explicitly not romantic and never will be, by harlan's statements, but it's also explicitly love. (i will die on the aromantic arthur hill.) they grow to become one whole, fucked up, multiply-divorced, utterly devoted symbiotic being, no longer desperate to separate but to keep each other. they are the dearest, most codependent, most bitchy, most beloved of friends.

truly terrible things happen along the way; the podcast definitely is not for the squeamish. arthur is more scar tissue than not by now, and really should NOT still be alive after how many times he's been punctured. it's genuinely quite scary at times, and genuinely heartbreaking in others.

but i think its key message is that no matter what we've been through, we must cling to hope with bloody fingers, and we must keep going, even if all we can do is crawl. no matter what we've been before, we decide who we're going to be today, and no one gets to tell us otherwise. love and self-determination is what will save us.

and just from a technical standpoint, i think the podcast is brilliant. because arthur is blind, john has to narrate what they are seeing and doing, which also allows us, the audience, to 'see' what's happening, and lets us feel like we're in arthur's shoes. when john gasps in horror at what he's seeing, we feel the same dread as arthur, because we don't know what's happening until john describes it to us. harlan's voice acting is truly astounding, both in the emotion he can convey and in just how many dozens of voices and accents he's able to pull off, often without listeners ever realizing it's all the same person.

another fun element is that because harlan is a big ttrpg guy, he allows patreons to actually vote on arthur's choices in the podcast, and he adapts the story to follow those decisions. (in some early episodes, this was represented by a rolling dice sound effect.) he does have a story planned, and set to end in season 6 (we're currently in season 5), but i think that level of audience participation is pretty cool.

so yeah, that's the thing i've been obsessed with for months! if you can't handle scary or gross situations then it probably isn't for you, but otherwise i very highly recommend it. 🫶

edit: i forgot that there's a trailer!