Latest Posts by lazystrawberriess - Page 2
Arthur has the opposite of a competency kink, i fear
“Average doctor commits 10 crimes a year” factoid actually just a statistical error. Average doctor commits 0 crimes per year. Crimes Gregory, who hates his supervisors and commits 27 crimes each shift, is an outlier adn should not have been counted.
How can you not be in love with this woman?? Katie McGrath is an absolute goddess.
why do people hate the idea of house being autistic like guys... Have we forgotten headcanons, do we hate the joy of expressing yourself through a character... Also there are actual people giving evidence to their suspicion of house having autism why am I seeing autistic house haters on my dash....
They're saying:
"You are the most amazing chaos in my life, my safe place, and the laughter I never want to lose"
Eres el relajo mas chingon de mi vida, mi lugar seguro y la risa que nunca quiero perder
I don't speak Spanish.
I wanna rock in House tonight 😌 I'd make sure it's a good time too
PARTY ROCK IS IN THE HOUSE TONIGHT
EVERYBODY JUST HAVE A GOOD TIMEEEEEE
Very original. I definitely haven't heard that before.
Me, writing out medical procedures/protocols in my Batman fic based off my old job in a SNF/Rehab
I love, love, LOVE it when I can tell a fic author has integrated their specialized knowledge in a fic. I was reading a fic that at some point included the character going to visit an art therapist, and it's so clear that the author is an art therapist themself, and the details included are just immaculate and I love it. I've previously read about a character doing fencing for no other reason than the author clearly wanting to write a sport they understood. A character being given a hyperfixation on bugs just so the author can infodump themselves.
I eat it up every time, it brings such a smile to my face
There was something decidedly… insistent about Lena’s footsteps. Kara knew it was her, of course, when she picked up Lena heading towards her apartment. Not just her heart rate but her breathing and mumbling to herself and the way she walked, her footfalls painting a picture of how she was walking, and she was mad.
Kara expected a complaint when she opened the door. Lena would sometimes launch without preamble into a rant about this investor or that senator or some such executive at this or that company and just rant adorably, balling her little fists. Kara would never tell her, because she’d feel patronized, but Lena genuinely was cute when she was angry.
Well, annoyed. When she was really angry, throwing a fit angry, fed up with the world angry, she was something else entirely. Kara would move heaven and earth, quite literally, to address whatever bothered her. When she was sad it was even worse and Kara just wanted to bundle her up in her invulnerable arms and shelter her from everything forever.
Lena walked into the apartment, not looking at Kara, and clearly fuming. She dropped the order she’d picked up on the way into the kitchen island and stared at it, then finally glared at Kara. There was no mistaking the subject of her anger.
Kara fidgeted nervously. She shifted on her feet, feeling a pressure of Lena’s gaze that forced her own away.
“Lena? Is something wrong?” She swallowed, hard. “Bad day?”
“Something is wrong,” Lena said, very softly, in the icy tone she reserved for the fools she did not suffer gladly. “Take off your glasses.”
“What?”
“Take off your glasses, Kara.”
“But I can’t see…”
Lena stepped forward and put her hand on the takeout order in its plastic bag. Kara had ordered it and Lena had agreed to pick it up, far from be first time they’d done that. Lena often ordered for them and Kara brought it when Lena was hosting.
Right now Lena was trembling, head tilted forward like she meant to charge, eyes locked on Kara.
“Glasses. Off.”
Kara hesitated briefly.
“Okay,” she muttered, screaming at herself not to do this, pleading for some kind of distraction.
All she wanted to do tonight was curl up with Lena on the couch and watch a movie and focus very very hard on not giving away how badly she wanted to make out with her.
Kara slowly took the earpieces in her hands and slipped them off, setting the too-heavy frames on the table with a soft clunk. The word rushed in, sounds more vibrant and distracting, colors almost unpleasantly sharp.
Lena was staring at her. Her nostrils flared and her fists clenched. She took her hand from the food bag and took another step forward, then another, finally picking up the glasses in her own hand, feeling them. She raised them as if to put them on and stared through them.
“For someone who says she’s blind without them, these glasses don’t have a very strong prescription, do they.”
Possibilities raced through Kara’s mind. Things she could say, things she might do. She’d squeaked out of this before, somehow evaded Lena’s staggering intellect. She had seen curiosity darken her brows, maybe even brief moments of suspicion.
This was different. Heavier. More serious.
“What gave me away?”
“Everything, really. All the pieces were there this whole time, but I just refused to put them together on my own. It took a flat out slap in the face to make me choose to see it.”
Kara’s chest felt like it was caving in. Everything was going wrong. Her chin quivered and the tears began welling hot behind her eyes.
Lena looked at her flatly. “The guy at the take out place asked me why I was picking up Supergirl’s order. I asked him what the hell he was talking about and he told me Supergirl comes on all the time. Then he showed me a selfie.”
Kara licked her lips.
“It has to be a mistake.”
“They have your number on their speed dial as Supergirl, Kara. You let their delivery kid take a selfie in your suit. They wouldn’t let me pay for it. The old lady that owns the place said ‘Supergirls girlfriend, no charge!’ and started laughing.”
Kara stared at her.
“Lena…”
“You better have a good fucking explanation for why your favorite restaurant knows who you really are and not your supposed best friend.”
The tension in their air was palpable, electric. Kara could feel it like the gathering energy in the air before a storm, ready to burst forth with energy and life or mindless destruction. She folded her arms around herself and looked down.
“You do know me,” Kara finally said. “You do know who I really am. You’re the only person who does.”
Lena’s extension was fixed, intense, edging between a scowl and a pout, and Kara realized with a start that she was holding back tears of her own.
“You’re the only person that knows me as me. You know me without Supergirl, but without all the fake stuff I do so people won’t realize I’m Supergirl. I don’t have to pretend to be clumsy with you. You’re not always looking at me like I’m super strong or super fast. I can just be me when I’m with you.”
“You’ve lied to me so many times,” Lena said, after drawing in a deep breath. “Running away from our lunches, telling me wild stories about where you disappear to at work, and I just bought every bit of it. You must think I’m an easy mark.”
“No, never.”
“I’ve always had it in the back of my head. I always thought there was something there, something between us that kept you from really, truly being yourself with me. The way your touches are always so whisper-light and you’re always stealing glances at me. Like you were afraid with every word or movement that you’d give something away.”
“Lena,” Kara began.
“I knew you were hiding something. I had hoped it was something else.”
Kara licked her lips. She quickened her perception, a little trick of will that took her out of sync with the humans around her, processing the world at her natural speed, which made her peers seem almost frozen in place by comparison.
She took this drawn out instant to really look at Lena, truly take her in, savor what she was seeing because it might be the end. She was suddenly heavily, painfully aware that this might be the last time she ever looked on Lena in person.
Great father Rao, she was so beautiful. Not hot or pretty or even gorgeous or sexy, beautiful. She was dressed for the autumn chill in a pea coat and turtleneck and black leggings and her hair was down, letting itself soften into her natural waves. She was without makeup, and Kara suddenly realized that she only ever saw Lena without makeup when she meant to be alone with Kara. When she was her most pure, most true self.
Kara slowed herself again and as she did the world sped up, and she drank in the soft sadness in Lena’s blue-green eyes and all of those things she’d pushed deep down came bubbling to the surface: imagined sighs and the feeling of that lustrous inky hair slipping through her fingers, her name whispered on pillowy lips.
Human thoughts. Alien thoughts. Desires no Kryptonian should even apprehend, much less indulge. The very idea of the non-procreative act was shameful, and to develop these emotional entanglement…
Kara had once mourned her failure, for she had been charged with preserving the ways of her people. Her first command had been to keep Kal Kryptonian.
A task she had failed even within herself.
“You hoped it was something else?”
Lena looked at her so sadly and so sweetly and swallowed.
“Yeah,” she said in a thick voice, “I kinda did.”
Kara smiled in spite of herself. When she sighed, it was as if the weight of a world slid off her shoulders.
“Can’t a girl have two secrets?”
Lena’s eyes widened.
“One day a long time ago, very very far away, a young Kara looked over her shoulder and watched the shockwave shatter the crust of her planet as its core exploded. She lost everything. Her world, her family, her culture, so many things. Tastes. Colors. Places. All gone.”
Lena wrapped her arms around herself, averting her gaze.
“I knew I’d lose you eventually. I just wanted to keep you as long as I could.”
Lena reached up and rubbed at her eyelids with her fingers.
“Do you remember when your mom’s goons threw you off the balcony?”
“Yes,” said Lena.
“Do you remember how I held you when I caught you?”
“I do.”
“I wish I hadn’t lied. I wish I’d never put you down.”
Lena said nothing and did not look up. Kara could hear her heart racing, practically feel the tension in her limbs across the room.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I lied. I’ve always known I could never keep you, I just didn’t want to make it end.”
Lena looked up with tear-wet eyes.
Then she lunged across the room, crossing the gap between them in long strides. Kara Danvers -Kara Zoe-El, Supergirl- was caught almost completely off guard. It wasn’t until Lena was practically charging into her arms, leaping into her, that she remembered to cushion the impact, catch her gently and make sure she didn’t slam herself into an unyielding wall of Kara.
She was so surprised, so shocked into helpless acceptance, that she didn’t offer the slightest residence when Lena reached, grabbed her neck in a firm hold, and pulled her into a kiss. Kara’s stomach did a backflip and she was helpless, undone despite all her strength. For a moment both their eyes opened and they looked at each other in a wordless exchange and Kara began kissing her back in earnest. Lena’s sharp breaths and soft moans instantly kindled a hot need inside her, thrumming like a plucked guitar string, and she effortlessly lifted Lena onto the kitchen counter.
“Holy shit, you’re strong,” Lena breathed.
“Of course I am,” she whispered into Lena’s kiss. “I’m Supergirl.”
And at long last, Kara found something she wanted to taste more than potstickers.
Eddie Diaz Core
love castiel as a character because he feels no emotions for the first kajilion years of his existence and all of a sudden he can feel things now and his first two emotions are queer longing and catholic guilt. literally who else is doing it like him
Second pic is a fuckass bob lol
I'm glad google understands me
Season 8?? Lol what are you talking about??? Everybody knows the show ended at SEVEN seasons!!!!
Season 8 of House? Oh, I don’t know her…
Literally in love with this sm. God is a woman, and she is Starfire
wanted 2 play around w outfit designs again :)
do you think house and wilson went for runs together when his ketamine treatment worked for 5-6 months?
wilson would be overjoyed to see house without pain and taken him on treks, overnight camping trips like they used to pre infarction. they might have even gone golfing together too imagine them doing all this after almost 7 years of not having done any of it with eachother
God is a woman and her name is Katie McGrath
S1E13 x S5E02 (insp.)
Him, but I want to be the one to make his eyes roll back
it's so funny to me how wilson tries again and again to choose his girlfriends over house and EVERY SINGLE TIME he ends up going right back to him. "house can't live without wilson" is true but so is the reverse: they're each the center of the other's universe.
I just want someone to be the Wilson to my House. Or the House to my Wilson. I'll happily change my personality to fit one of you're the other. Doesn't have to be romantic.
Just want that chaotic loyalty, ya know?
Y’all talk about power couples y’all ever see these two they fr said till death do us part and weren’t even together!!!
♡ Harlivy ♡ by Peach Momoko
He's such a mood
One of my favourite things about 911 is how they just let Buck always be casually suicidal. Mr. It Would Have Been Better If I Were Shot, I'm going to give someone my oxygen mask, run into a burning building, and put everybody else above myself. And the firehouse just lets that happen.
Ridiculous Dead Serious idea:
Danny is in some kinda competition that Damian is also in, and they’ve been sniping at each other back and forth throughout the whole thing.
Until one day Danny goes, “You want me so bad it makes you look stupid!”
And Damian stops. Considers. Interrogates himself and his motivations like a good detective. Has a facial journey as he goes through the five stages of grief.
Danny was expecting a snide comeback and now he is legitimately worried he’s somehow triggered the snooty rich kid. Trying to decide if he wants to apologize or awkwardly make his way out of the room to give him time to recover.
Damian sorta hates himself because… yeah, yeah he does. He is attracted to the bratty little fucker and has been… pulling pigtails? Antagonizing to remain in his thoughts and field of vision, to watch his face get red and his breath quicken, to make him lean aggressively into his space and growl at him???
Damian is horrified. How did he misjudge himself so badly? Is this how mother felt when she discovered that Father was a complete mess and only fell more in love?
“Uh, dude? Are you… okay?” Danny reaches hesitantly towards him but doesn’t quite touch.
“No,” Damian says, schooling his face into a bland mask. “In fact, I may need you to support me.”
Panic flits across his companion’s face. He rushes to his aid, ducking against his side. His arm wraps around Damian’s back and a hand settles on his waist. Too gullible.
Damian mourns his own good sense.
Daniel Fenton is the top expert in his field.
(Copy of my post from the DPxDC community.)
That field happens to be paleoxeno anthropology - the study of dead alien and/or interdimensional people and cultures.
The thing with becoming the top expert in a field of study, is that you often don't set out to become one. Danny just wanted to understand where his parents got the idea that ghosts aren't sapient. So, he read their research.
(Cut because this got long.)
And then, when that didn't answer things (because apparently they'd stopped citing their damn sources after college), he asked his parents what references they used. Which lead to reading those research papers, and looking into their sources.
And the deeper Danny went, the more he learned, the fewer offshoots the rabbit hole had. He started recognizing when authors were citing each other in a loop, when some researcher was plagiarizing a specific other researcher, and he eventually got good at cutting through the "as everyone knows" to the root "I've never read anything except X crackpot's work, but if I say that, you won't take me seriously."
Along the way, he learned that a lot of "ghost" research was cross-contaminated by other fields - aliens, gods, demons, elemental spirits, and basically everything else that wasn't "of this Earth" all got dumped into the same area of "pseudoscience."
Except, aliens were real. There were even alien super heroes - Martian Manhunter was very openly a non-human person from Mars.
So, why were all these papers swilling the same backwash?
Well, Danny found what he was looking for - the ultimate source of his parent's prejudices - a "research paper" commissioned and published to support a proposed law against "illegal aliens." Specifically, a law that would criminalize super heroes who couldn't prove they were born on Earth - Superman in particular.
It was all bullshit. Years of "professionals" were ultimately referencing a single biased "study" into the ability of anything not human to have conscious thought. It was all based on fucking xenophobia.
By this point in his research, Danny had entered college and majored in anthropology - since he was doing the research anyway, he'd may as well get credit for it, right? He'd written several papers on known alien cultures, talked to experts in the field of interdimensional communication (read: magic users), and generally become a known entity in the study of dead non-human and/or non-Earth-based people.
And if he maybe popped into the Ghost Zone to talk to a few "primary sources" for his papers, well, that was why he specialized in specifically dead cultures.
By the time he'd actually graduated, he'd written a (very well received) paper on the inherently xenophobic prejudices present in what he was calling the field of paleoxeno anthropology. He laid out his very well-sourced arguments, heavily referenced established research (and the sources for said research), and ended it with a list of the known crimes of Lex Luthor - the primary source of everything his parents had based their work on.
All in all, Danny was rather proud of the work he'd done. He'd upended the entire field of ecto-biology, started a few debates on the merits of interdimensional cultural exchanges (the idea of Christmas Truce was immediately adopted by the people of Gotham), and gotten a few prejudiced laws challenged.
His parents had copies of his papers on ghost culture proudly displayed throughout the house, and had been overwhelmingly supportive of the new ideas he had brought to their field. Jazz had a newspaper article about the legal changes he'd instigated framed in her office in Arkham - a surprising number of her patients weren't legally human, and were already receiving better care and accommodations now that they were being recognized as people.
But the thing that really made Danny realize he was not just an expert, but the expert, was Superman showing up at his door with a copy of his examination of Krypton's lost subcultures and fringe social practices.
"A few of my family members have entered their "rebellious teenager" phase. On the recommendation of my colleagues, I came here, hoping you could help them "rebel" in a way that helps them feel closer to our people."
Give me demon twins with a complicated relationship. no more Damian and Danny who have a semi-healthy relationship.
Give me younger brother Danny who is overshadowed by Damian.
Give me a Danny who doesn't know Bruce Wayne is his father because he could never meet his mother's expectations.
Give me Damian who refuses to tell him because Danny needs to earn it.
Give me a Damian who sees Danny as weak because he's more in tune with his emotions, and who absolutely hates him for it.
Give me a Damian who when tasked by grandfather to prune the weak branches of the bloodline he does so with no hesitation.
Give me a Danny who fucking fears Damian and knows that Damian will kill him on the orders of Ras.
Give me a Danny who doesn't fight back because he knows that he can never beat Damian, who accepts his fate.
Give me a Danny who's happy that it was Damian his older brother who gets to kill him.
Give me a Danny who tells Damian that "it had to be you."
Give me demon twins with a complicated relationship that even after Danny was put in the Lazarus pits and sent to bumbfuck Illinois and Damian was sent to his father. Danny still fears Damian, and Damian while no longer hating Danny for his preserved weakness resents him for not fighting back and just letting him kill him.
Give me a Danny who's relationship with Damian colors, or at least tint the relationship he has with Jazz.
Give me a Danny who does have a personality of his own and just does what is expected from him because he doesn't want the Fentons to throw him away as the Al Ghuls did.
Give me a Damian who realized that Danny was all the goodness in his family, that would have fit in better with father's side of the family better than him because Danny was the better person.
Give me a Damian who ends up idolizing the memory of Danny and who he could have been.
Give me demon twins with a complicated relationship that when they reunite, Danny freaks the fuck out and Damian just freezes.
Give me demon twins with a complicated relationship.