*generalized hissing*

tarastarr1  asked:

Hi Elizabeth! You mentioned a "panto villain" in the last Rec Center. My googling has been inconclusive - would you mind explaining the term and/or what you meant by it?

Hello! OK I went back and looked it up and @hellotailor actually said that she acted like “civilization” was a panto villain, not that it actually was, but close enough haha: 

Pantomime—colloquially called “panto”—is a bedrock tradition of the Christmas & New Year period in Britain. The shows are children’s stories, Cinderella and Aladdin and Jack & the Beanstalk etc etc, it draws on hundreds of years of tradition, there are all these conventions (certain main characters are usually in drag, for example), and there’s a lot of audience participation. 

So this reference in particular is about the villain—they often show up behind the hero and the crowd shouts, “LOOK BEHIND YOU!” or something similar. And you’re generally supposed to hiss when the villain comes onstage. 

Or, you know, when you’re watching Black Sails and someone starts giving a little speech about what “civilization means.” START HISSING. :-)

It’s @musicalluna‘s bday! She asked for Tony patching Steve up while they chat and are domestic and sappy. I ended up with more sleepy than anything, but I hope you like it! Happy birthday! :D

About 1900 words, watch out for the cut!

“You should take better care of your skin,” Tony admonished from the bathroom. The light clicked off a moment later and he walked back into the room with the vintage first aid kit that Jan had given Steve as a gag on his last birthday. Steve had never used it himself, but it was packed with new “made to look vintage” packages of bandages, alcohol wipes, gauze rolls, and glass bottles of heavy duty pain killers.

Steve smiled at Tony’s bare feet under the trailing hem of a pair of Steve’s pajama pants, and then looked pointedly at the first aid kit. “You don’t need to do that, Tony. They’re just scratches. I’ll be healed in a couple days.”

“Shut up, and let me take care of you,” Tony advised sweetly. He knelt down between Steve’s feet and made himself comfortable. He was so focused on his task that he didn’t even give Steve a heated look and make a joke about being on his knees. He unpacked the first aid kit and arranged the items he needed in neat piles, and then pulled on a pair of blue nitrile gloves.

“I have a vested interest in keeping your skin in one piece,” Tony said, glancing up at Steve through his eyelashes. “It would be nice if you would try to help.”

He gently turned Steve’s arm over to examine the thick swathe of abrasions curling up his arm from the base of his palm to his elbow. Tiny pieces of gravel, glass, and asphalt were embedded in the scratches. Steve had planned to just climb into the shower and scrub them out with a loofa, but he’d found Tony sprawled out on his bed, and plans had changed. He was grimy and coated in sweat, dirt, and soot, but when Tony had ordered him to strip, now he hadn’t argued. So he was perched on the edge of his studio couch with his boyfriend kneeling between his knees and he wasn’t even getting any fun out of it.

Humming reproachfully, Tony levered himself up to his feet and crossed to the small kitchenette in the corner. He returned with a shallow plate, went back to his knees, and peeled the tweezers out of their sterile bag. Steve did his best to cover up any sounds of discomfort as Tony set to picking the largest slivers out of the gashes.

“What did you do?” Tony asked finally. When Steve had first walked in, he’d gone through the emergency questions: are you alright? Are you in immediate danger? Do I need to suit up? But hadn’t asked for another explanation as he was bustling about getting Steve water and grabbing the first aid kit. “I’m guessing by the placement of the scratches that you laid your bike down at least.”

Steve winced and used his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Yeah… it might need some of your first aid tomorrow too.”

Tony snorted. “I guessed as much. Run of the mill risking your life to avoid running over a family of quails on the road, or baddies shooting at you kind of situation?”

“There was a cat in the road,” Steve confessed. “I tried to find it after I crashed, but it was gone. I hope it’s alright. I don’t think I hit it.”

“Cats are resilient creatures,” Tony said, teasing out a long sliver of Steve’s headlight from his thigh. “Should we go look for it tomorrow?” he asked, glancing up again.

“You know me so well.” Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Tony’s head. He rested his forehead in the mess of Tony’s hair until Tony reached up and pushed him back so he could get to the scrapes on Steve’s ribs.

Tony finished picking the largest pieces out, and then held the plate of shards up and rattled it at Steve’s face. “Did you bring half the road home with you?”

“Considerably less than half,” Steve said, and then added, “Maybe twelve percent.”

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Purrcival “Percy” Threadrickstein Von Meowsel Clawsowski de Rolo IV has been here for a week now, so I thought that I should post an update. It’s gone well, for the most part, as you can see from the above pictures. I’m hoping that he and Garrus will become closer once a bit more time has passed.

The first 36 hours were a bit rough, what with the growling and hissing and generally not being happy on their parts, but as you can see they’re quickly getting used to each other. Which is somewhat surprising, considering the short amount of time and that they’re both rather large, adult, male cats - all of which tends to lend towards it usually taking much longer to learn to live together.

Still, they’re definitely getting along fairly well by now. There are still some times when they’ll shy away from each other or there will be a minor spat (typically just batting at each other with their paws, no claws out), but that’s to be expected from most cats. They’re pretty good at heading to separate areas of the apartment to calm down all on their own when that happens, though, so that’s a good sign.

Also, I hadn’t thought their went together nearly as well as Garrus and Tali’s did (since they’re named after characters from Critical Role and Mass Effect rather than being from the same fandom). One of my friends on Twitter pointed out that Garrus Vakarian and Percy de Rolo are both technically snipers, though, so they still match name-wise. I’m smarter than I thought that I was. ;-)


“Please hold still,” Akaashi requests for the seventh time in five minutes.

Bokuto does not hold still. He’s shifting from foot to foot, hunching his shoulders and cracking his knuckles, and occasionally – and far more of an inconvenience – shaking his head, like a dog trying to throw off water. Since Akaashi currently has his fingers buried in the sticky tangle of Bokuto’s hair as he works shampoo into the strands, this generally results in a hiss of pain from Bokuto and suds being flung in arcs around them to stick and cling to the shower walls.

Akaashi doesn’t protest, other than to offer his level request at a steadily increasing frequency. He knows Bokuto well enough by now to know that the other’s energy is a force of nature, and he knows better than to try to withstand those. This time he sees the movement coming, telegraphed in the dip of Bokuto’s shoulder and the slant of his chin, and manages to extricate his fingers from the remnants of the gel standing Bokuto’s hair on end as the other pivots on a heel to blink wide gold eyes down at Akaashi.

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  • gross superwholocks: I'm not like other girls *sips tea*
  • someone: superwholocks are kind of annoying at times
  • gross superwholock: *chokes on own spit**knocks down misha collins stand up* hOW DARE YOU GENERALIZE US? WE AREN'T ALL THE SAME W HA T THE HELL ????!!!!!! YOU CAN'T GENERALIZE PEOPLE ITS TERRIBLE!!!! *hisses at sun and retreats to bedroom*

“Natsu works at an animal shelter and Lucy comes in looking for a puppy and ends up getting Plue???? idk it’s not much but I’m sure you could make it into something” @makepretendprincess

Lucy hummed with joy as the overhead bell jingled, signaling her entrance. She came to the shelter at least once every two weeks. Her father had never allowed pets, no matter how hard she had begged. So, she would come here to play with the animals instead. She had wanted nothing more than a companion to keep the loneliness at bay.

And finally, she was getting one.

She’d searched high and low for an apartment that allowed pets and after a month, she’d finally found one. The rent was cheap, too.

“Hi there, Lucy!” Mira waved before turning back to a grumpy blonde with a scar over his eye. Halfway through a sentence, he paused. His eyes cut towards Lucy and she quickly turned away, cursing herself for staring. She knew better than that.

She scrawled her name on the sign-in sheet and sanitized her hands, immediately rounding the counter and heading for the back room.

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