Stede "Has Only Ever Had Sex for Procreation" Bonnet and Edward "Has Only Ever Had Sex Casually With No Strings Attached" Teach.
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i'm a dick grayson's apartment is a mess truther btw. but it's only during the week. this man is quite literally a single mom who works two jobs who loves her kids and never stops. he's always too busy working on open cases when he's at home, studying them, gathering info. and then he goes out as nightwing to continue whatever investigation he's doing at the moment and also stopping any trouble he finds along the way. of course his place is a mess. but it's not like he's filthy, either. just disorganized. electronics and piles of papers spread all across the table and sofa, coffee mugs left empty where he was sitting while examining them. a few dishes in the sink, mostly bowls and spoons from breakfast — he haven't cooked this week, he mostly ate take-out, and yes he put the disposables in the trash, he's not an animal. clothes laying around on the bedroom floor, his suit among them because he was too tired to put it in the washer when he got home after patrol the night before. luckily, he did remember to wash his gcpd uniform for the next morning. but then on the weekend, he'll take the time to clean up. time he should use to rest, but Alfred raised him better than this. he feels a shiver down his spine just thinking about how disappointed he would be in his current lifestyle. he'll put on some music and sing along while he works. he vacuums, he cleans, he washes, he folds. he changes his bedding, and after everything is done, he rewards himself with a bubble bath, a sweet scented candle lit around him. he feels the warmth from it and the water relax his ever tensed muscles and his tiredness kicks in. he puts on a comfy (and way too old, literally holes on it) shirt and some sweatpants. he lays on his bed, feeling the clean sheets against his skin, and he falls deep asleep before he can count to three. it was a productive day. he can rest now.
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yannis philippakis has one toke and reckons he can do an Amazing chinese accent.
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Gonna do a list for tomorrow because today was weirdly frustrating for no reason and a list might simplify things.
No alarm -- get up when you get up.
Feed cat, coffee.
Breakfast.
Stretch.
Gas station, grocery store. Kale and sausage for stamppot, kiwi, english muffins, pringles, look for Shoe Goo or E6000 while you’re there.
Return home, put away kale and sausage. Split laundry.
First load down and started. Make more coffee, have some donuts.
Switch loads. Finish your goddamn postcards.
Bring first load up and fold/put away. Eat something that isn’t an english muffin or a donut.
Bring second load up and put away.
If there are still postcards left to do, do them.
Take a walk to the post office. Bury them in postcards.
Buy a fancy coffee as a treat for doing all those postcards.
Go home. Lunch, maybe? Or not.
Quilt. Quilt like the wind. Quilt like no one has ever quilted in their life.
You do have to start minutes before dinner. I KNOW YOU DON’T WANT TO. Do it anyway.
Make dinner.
Take shower.
Feed cat, write poem, go bed.
There will not be a single part of you that wants to do postcards or minutes and you are stressed as shit about your quilting. I get it. I do. Do the damn postcards and minutes anyway. You will finish the quilting, I promise you.
All right. Chill a little longer until you’re ready to sleep. Enjoy the long lie-in tomorrow. Maybe you’ll sleep until 7!
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listen. this may sound like a reach but I don’t think house’s eagerness to go to the lesbian bar with thirteen was fetishistic glee. because like. okay. straight men love lesbians. but it’s only ever in a “conventionally attractive porn stars making out”, “I’ll pay these 2 strippers to kiss” sort of way, not exactly in the sense that they like to surround themselves with regular, real life sapphics. in fact, most hetero men despise the lesbians they meet in real life because they see them as either unattainable or unappealing disappointments to their fantasies. now, listen. house isn’t stupid, it’s not like he thought thirteen was gonna let him in on some hot girl-on-girl voyeuristic action, and he certainly knew he wasn’t about to get laid himself at a bar of ALL WLW. he’s an overconfident perv, sure, but not the kind who thinks he can ‘convert’ a gay gal, nor would he even desire to. the damn patient of the week is a guy who tried to ECT himself straight, which house obviously doesn’t believe is reasonable (this episode also gave us the shot where both house & thirteen are shown making a face in response to “I’m as straight as any of you!”)
with all of this laid out, you kinda have to assume that he was excited about the bar for another reason. dare I say it was simply… the joy of existing in a queer space as a queer person?
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