#doctor my eyes rd

[rydersxsource]

Ryan Destiny for the ‘Doctor, My Eyes’ (Cover) video shoot 🥀🤎

[nightmun]

Couple drawings of Lucky in my normal style

[sirwow]

oodlin

[midnight--ink]

Holy shit hello paian nation it's been so long. I didn't mean to abandon this blog but unfortunately I've been super busy :')

I thought about sharing this before and I figured I might as well, this is the first little RD drabble I wrote forever ago that would eventually evolve into my Paian fic "like real people do." Some bits are the same and you can probably see how this eventually grew into the longer version. I found it in my drafts again and I still like it a lot so I decided to polish it up a bit, and I thought people on here might enjoy it :)

Ian sighed, typing out the last couple sentences of a report for Dr. Edega before collapsing back into his chair. He squinted at the bright monitor screen, reaching up to rub at his stinging eyes under his glasses. He'd been staring at his computer for entirely too long.

He stood from his chair, yawning and stretching out his back until he felt it pop. He glanced over at the stairs that led out of the basement and wondered absently if Ada's shift was over yet. He was supposed to have left at five PM himself, but there was still so much work that needed to be done and Edega had really been breathing down their necks lately.

He shoved several of the scattered papers on his desk into his shoulder bag and trudged up the stairs to the first floor, making his way down the hall to Ada's office. He raised his fist to rap his knuckles against the wood, before the door abruptly opened inwards and he found himself nose-to-nose with Ada. They narrowly avoided knocking their foreheads together, and he stumbled back a little as he tried to ignore the way his stomach fluttered. She blinked at him in surprise. Her coat sleeves were rolled up to the elbows and her brown curls were tied back in a loose ponytail.

"Ian?" Her mouth turned down in a worried frown. "I thought you went home. Isn't your shift over?"

"Oh. Y–Yeah. Sorry. Just...had to finish a report for Edega," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. He checked his watch.

"The carer's with my mom until eight, so I still have some time."

Ada stared at him with a furrowed brow and big, brown, serious eyes. She sighed.

"Just...promise me you won't do this too often, okay? I'm worried that he's pushing you too hard."

Ian laughed softly.

"You're worried about me?" At Ada's stern look, he acquiesced. "Okay, okay, I promise."

"Good," she said, finally allowing herself to smile a little. Ian took note of the dark rings under her eyes, the coffee stain on her coat, the way several locks of brown hair were escaping her messy ponytail. She returned to her desk and started organizing the myriad papers that were strewn over it. He followed her inside and hovered awkwardly by the door. Ada looked up.

"Oh—did you need something?"

Ian froze, heat rushing to his cheeks. He looked at his feet and rubbed a hand up and down his arm.

"Oh. Uh...no, I guess not. Just—just wanted to say hi."

She gave him a small, bemused grin.

"Hi."

He watched her shuffle some more papers around on her desk, humming under her breath as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear. Eight years was a long time to get to know someone, and he had spent those years memorizing all of Ada's traits and quirks and idiosyncrasies. He knew how much milk and sugar she liked in her coffee, the way she snorted when she laughed, which movies always made her cry. He knew all of her worst insecurities and how she covered them up with a smile. He knew how, whenever possible, she would take a few extra minutes to chat with the patients or reassure their nervous loved ones before an operation.

She grabbed a stack of loose patient reports and tapped them against the desk to straighten them. She looked so tired.

Wordlessly, he opened his arms for a hug, and it was only a moment before she dropped the papers and tackled him like a linebacker. He wheezed a little at the force of it but wrapped his arms around her just as tightly, and she leaned into him. They began to sway unconsciously back and forth, holding each other, and he could feel her smiling into his neck.

"What are we doing?" she asked, giggling deliriously. "Dancing?"

He was giggling, too. "I—I don't know. I'm so tired."

Ada snorted, and Ian's heart did a stupid fluttery thing that hopefully wasn't an arrhythmia.

"God. What a pair we are."

Ian took a moment to be thankful that she couldn't see his face just then, because he knew that he must be grinning like an idiot.

"I think my shift just ended, too, by the way," Ada mumbled into his shoulder with a yawn. "Intern's taking the night shift."

He huffed out a laugh, resting his cheek on top of her head.

"What would we do without the intern?"

Ada hummed appreciatively.

"They're a saint."

Ian closed his eyes and buried his face in her soft hair, letting himself feel her heart beating in tandem with his. After a long moment, Ada heaved another sigh and began to pull away. Ian immediately missed the warmth.

"Okay, I should probably head home. Gotta go scrounge up something for dinner."

An idea struck him. Ian willed his voice to sound casual, unsuccessfully. He tried to lean back against Ada's desk and almost slipped.

"Hey. Um. S–Since we're both off, do you wanna...come back to my place for dinner? I'm gonna be cooking for my mom anyway, and she—she always enjoys your company."

Ada blinked up at him. "Oh, are you sure? I—yeah. That would be nice."

"Okay! Cool!" He winced as his voice audibly cracked, but Ada only smiled before she bent down to grab her bag from under the desk.

"Cool. I can help you cook," she said over her shoulder.

"Uh...that's okay. I'll—I'll cook."

Ada popped up from behind the desk to glare at him in mock offense, placing a hand dramatically over her chest.

"You wound me. C'mon, I'm not that bad."

A grin stretched its way across Ian's face.

"Remember that time in college you nearly burnt down our apartment making a quesadilla?"

Ada held up a finger as she pressed her lips into a thin line.

"That was...once," she muttered. Ian laughed as she circled around the desk to join him.

"Our—our neighbors called the fire department," he added, chuckling at the memory. She rolled her eyes and bumped her hip against his with a smirk. A swarm of butterflies fluttered like a whirlwind in his chest cavity.

"Geez," she responded wryly. "You set one quesadilla on fire and nobody ever lets you forget it."

She was smiling at him now, all gentle and fond, her eyes crinkling at the edges. Ian found himself staring at the light smattering of freckles on her nose that were only visible up close. He could feel his face steadily growing warmer. He stepped forward and held the door open for her so he wouldn't have to keep making eye contact. As she passed, however, she casually snagged his hand in hers, pulling him out into the brightly lit hallway. Ian startled and stumbled after her, his stomach turning somersaults. He glanced around frantically to make sure Edega wasn't lurking around any corners.

"Okay. Let's blow this pop stand," Ada said nonchalantly.

"I—I don't think...I don't think anyone says that anymore," Ian mumbled vacantly. He stared down at their intertwined hands, uncomprehending. Another smile tugged at the corners of Ada's mouth. She laced their fingers together and brushed her thumb over the back of his hand, sending a feeling like an electric shock all the way up his arm and through his chest, straight to the heart.

"Well, I say it."

She tugged him down the hallway in the direction of the front lobby, her hand warm in his. Ian let himself be pulled along in confusion as his insides twisted themselves into knots. They emerged together into the brisk purple dusk outside, where the light was starting to fade over the tops of the buildings.

Ian was trying his best to remember to breathe, drawing air in and letting it out like a normal person would do. Dozens of clamoring thoughts raced through his head, the most prominent of which, flashing in his brain like a neon sign, was WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?! Ada was still smiling placidly, though he could swear there was a hint of pink blooming in her cheeks.

She glanced back at him, her face framed by the soft glow of twilight. He took one deep breath, and then another. It didn't help; he still felt a little bit like he was drowning. She chuckled, though not unkindly, and it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, which was admittedly what he thought every time she laughed.

"Are you okay?"

"Uh-huh," was all he managed to get out. Ada bit her lip against a wide grin and squeezed his hand, sending a honey-sweet warmth flooding through him that was stronger than the evening chill.

If this was drowning, then maybe he didn't mind.

[thegreenhordes]

Silence came over the Doctor as he took notice of more and more internal oddities. Taking notes, cutting open pustules and growths. Twilight waits in growing concern and anticipation. The Doctor's eyes widen, then narrow in concentration as he delicately cuts open a space between the skin and muscle. It is the right side of the body, so Twilight strains her head to see.

Beyond the doors to the large space, Rainbow Dash returns. She hurries forward and raises a feathery leg to push it open. Behind her trails Firestorm, one of the pegasi from her team.

Firestorm: Ma'am, are you sure you don't want us to Investigate?

RD: We don't need to stir up trouble. Not with Twi's only local contact.

Firestorm: It wouldn't be difficult to set up Nesting Scouts nearby-

RD: Firestorm, stop. We keep pushing and he'll ghost us. Report to Fluttershy with the others who flew too close to the Horde.

Firestorm stands still for a moment, her leader looking away from her. A sigh. She fluffs and settles her red wings in an effort to release some stress.

Firestorm: Yes, Ma'am.

She walks away.

Rainbow Dash sighs and shoves the door open, near galloping into the room and startling both Dr. Herbal Tea and Twilight.

RD: Twilight.

She shakes herself and stares a concerned Twilight in the face.

RD: We need to talk. I think something's up with Null.

.

.

.

.

The room is foggy and dark, though a sliver of light from high above is indicative of its' size. Translucent shards are scattered about the small space that was illuminated by the light above. They show reflections of Rainbow Dash as she expresses her worries to the Princess.

A sound echoes, a light 'tp tp tp' of hooves across the floor. An armored hoof reaches out and steps delicately on one of the shards. Green crystal glimmers in the low light, a faint glow all their own making them appear brighter in the dark space. Sighs emanate from the being standing over the images of Rainbow Dash. Their tail flicks.

???: Bothersome.

He presses harder to the glass for a moment before stopping himself.

???: The shards deviate.. That simply won't do.

There is the sound of crackling thunder as green-black lighting spreads across the ground. It touches every last shard as they turn dark. A moment passes of sudden silence when the lightning dissipates as fast as it came. Then, in the quiet, the moon shines through the glass. It is lower in the sky. The sun will rise soon. The view shifts down towards a home, Null standing in front of it looking tired and weak.

???: There we are. Focus. My gaze mustn't deviate. Not now, not until this is over.

[Stoic Watcher, tired and cold]

[hear-that-music-in-the-air]

Helping Hand

My first RD fic! I haven't written proper fanfic in a hot minute but the little pixel people grabbed me by the throat and opened my google docs

Also shoutout to @nightmun for helping me visualize Ian's silly little mug

Summary: After seeing Ada struggle with the rhythm treatments, Ian comes up with a way to help her out.

Fic under the read-more :)

—

Dr. Edega loomed over her, his eyes boring into her back over the top of his clipboard.

"I expect better from you, Dr. Paige. Times are changing. If you can't keep up, then maybe you're not cut out for this job after all,” he said lowly.

Ada couldn't meet his gaze. Instead she stared down at her hands, balled into trembling fists, as her heart pounded in her ears. Burning tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she immediately felt ashamed, like a child being scolded.

She had messed up. She had been treating a patient with the rhythm defibrillator and started to panic as soon as she lost track of the tempo. Ian had frantically swooped in to take over and finished the treatment smoothly, while Ada had watched, feeling numb.

She was distantly aware of Ian pushing past her, positioning himself between her and Edega.

"D-Dr. Edega, sir—this is a very new, experimental treatment method. We're still working out the kinks and—and no one's going to be perfect at it right away."

"That's no excuse. There's no room for mistakes when lives are on the line. You both know that."

"N–Not every case we get is life-threatening," Ian said, and she was faintly surprised at the edge of anger creeping into his tone. "And she'll practice. She can—"

Edega pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"I don't care what she does as long as her performance improves. See to it that she receives more training as soon as possible. And keep looking for any bugs in the program in the meantime."

Ian opened his mouth to say something else, but was silenced by a single look from Edega. He shrunk into himself.

"Y–Yes, sir. Of course."

Edega turned on his heel and strode out of the room, leaving a heavy silence behind him. Ada didn't realize that she was still shaking until Ian placed a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"Ada?" His voice sounded so far away, as though he were speaking to her from underwater. She attempted to pull herself back, focusing on the warmth of his hand as a grounding point. She placed her own fingers unsteadily over his and gave him a tremulous smile.

“I’m…okay.”

Ian watched her face, brow furrowed in concern.

"He—he shouldn't speak to you like that. I—I hate it."

She sniffled and quickly swiped at the tears that were threatening to spill under her glasses. She took a deep breath and straightened, attempting to look professional instead of pathetic.

"No. He's right. We can't afford to make stupid mistakes in this line of work. And it’s not…it’s not just him.” She remembered the way the patient’s heart rate had spiked on the monitor when she missed a beat, and let out a shaky sigh. “I just...can't stop thinking about what might have happened if you weren't here."

Ian frowned.

"Ada. You can't go beating yourself up over what might have happened."

"Sure I can," she joked weakly. Ian didn't laugh.

"We're—we're all trying our best here," he continued. "And Edega doesn't see how much you do for the patients every day. He barely comes out of his office, and when he does it's only to—to reprimand us for something or other. Everyone else in this hospital loves you. You—you're a good doctor, Ada."

As she stared at him, all of the tears that she had swallowed came rising back up in her throat. She let her head fall against his shoulder with a soft thump, and a quiet sob escaped her. She felt Ian freeze for a moment, uncertain, before he awkwardly wrapped an arm around her. She leaned into the warmth.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Not really a hugger."

Ada let out a watery laugh.

"I know, doofus. Thank you."

She pulled back and tried in vain to wipe the tear stains from his coat.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. I’m crying all over you. This is gross.”

“Yeah, a little bit,” Ian said. “But that’s okay.”

Ada collapsed into a nearby chair, suddenly feeling indescribably exhausted. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes before letting out another long sigh. Ian sat down next to her, awkwardly rubbing the back of his hand.

"Personalized care, comforting patients, that's what I'm good at,” Ada said. “You're the one who’s amazing at all the technical stuff.” 

She stared up into the harsh light of the overhead fluorescents, letting her vision go blurry. 

“All Edega seems to care about is getting people in and out of treatment as quickly as possible. Seems like if he has his way, pretty soon everything will be done remotely. I guess I just feel kind of useless,” she muttered.

“You’re not useless,” Ian said quietly.

Ada made a noncommittal sound.

“Like you said, there’s so many other things you’re good at. Trust me, Ada, we—we’ll always need you. You’re everyone’s favorite doctor. Otherwise, they’d all be stuck with me,” he joked.

She attempted to muster a smile, but she knew it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Ian frowned again and fell silent for a long moment, seemingly lost in thought. Then he stood abruptly, nearly startling her out of her seat.

“Oh! I—I might actually know a way to help you!” he cried, pacing excitedly. “M–Meet me in the basement when you come in tomorrow.”

Ada blinked up at him, baffled. “Oh…um…okay? What—?”

Ian was already gone, scurrying down the hallway towards the door that led to the basement. Ada shook her head bemusedly, before scooping up her clipboard from the nearby table to see which patient she needed to check on next. She took a moment and closed her eyes, mentally preparing for the rest of her shift. 

Deep breaths.

She heaved herself onto her feet, and set off in the other direction towards Cole’s room.

—

When she came down to the basement the next morning, Ian looked haggard, yawning and rubbing at his eyes under his glasses. When he saw her, however, he lit up in a smile and eagerly waved her over.

“Ada! Hey! C-Come here, I have something to show you.”

On his desk was the rhythm defibrillator device, and attached to it was a new button that she didn’t recognize.

“...What’s this?” she asked as she slowly descended the stairs.

Ian spun around in his chair to face her, gesturing enthusiastically.

“I was up all night testing this, but it—it works! Basically, it modulates the detected heartbeats to—to simplify them on our end, and then it translates the button input back to the original complexity to match the patient’s heart pattern. S-So you’ll still be administering the same treatment, but it should be easier to—”

Tears welled in her eyes all over again, and Ada practically fell forward to pull him into a hug, grinning from ear to ear. Ian stiffened uncomfortably, and she suddenly remembered herself.

She stepped back and laughed sheepishly as she wiped away the tears.

“Right. Not a hugger. Sorry, I really need to be better about that.”

Ian looked at her for a moment, sighed, and then smiled. He stood from his chair and wrapped her in another hug, tighter than before.

“I’m willing to make exceptions,” he mumbled into her shoulder. Ada’s heart swelled, and she squeezed him back just as tightly. Then Ian let out a yelp as she lifted him off his feet in her excitement, and she quickly set him back down. 

“Too much?”

Ian laughed weakly, smoothing down his rumpled coat.

“Too much.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She returned her attention to the new button, running her fingers over the smooth surface. It looked fairly similar to the standard one, though slightly bigger. She gently pressed it down and it made a satisfying click.

“Thank you, Ian, seriously. This is…incredible.”

Ian scratched the back of his neck bashfully.

“It’s the least I could do. You already work so hard. H–Hopefully, this’ll make your job a little easier.”

Ada suddenly remembered his words from yesterday. You’re everyone’s favorite doctor. Otherwise, they’d all be stuck with me.

“You’re doing a good job, too, by the way,” she said softly. “Edega’s an idiot if he doesn’t see that. I know that a lot of your work is behind the scenes, but it’s just as important.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Ian looked away, embarrassed. “Y-You don’t have to say that.”

Ada smiled fondly.

“Just want you to know that you’ll always be my favorite radiologist.”

“I’m quite literally th–the only radiologist that we have.”

“Still.”

Ian finally broke into a smile, too. “Okay, okay. H-How about we test this thing?”

—

A week later, Ada told him that she had a gift for him, and produced a small white coffee mug from her coat pocket. Ian burst out laughing when he saw it.

“Wait, d-does that say ‘number one radiologist?’”

It was a “Number One Dad” mug from the dollar store that Ada had drawn over with a permanent marker. She had added two lines under the first D to turn it into an R, and had scribbled “-iologist” underneath, along with a little smiley face at the end. The mug soon became a permanent fixture on Ian’s desk, and she grinned to herself every time she passed by it.

[wolfbatspace]

Love of my Life

This is a pmv of RD's story.

Most of the pregame comics are posted on the blog and instagram.

Their first encounter, the masquerade, moving in together, falling in love, etc.

When RD gets overwhelmed with anxiety/panic or heartbreak, their magic turns corrupt, floods their body and spills out of their eyes and mouth. Asra is there to ground them. This happens a few times throughout their life. It can be repressed but it takes a toll on their body.

After the game, RD and Asra have twins, River and Alexandria (Ria). They moved to Nopal when River's powers were causing him to freeze the city as a baby. The desert weather helped regulate his magic. Later in his story, River gets captured and ends up losing his hand. RD was able to rescue him but ended up getting a curse that infected their arms.

Ria also had issues controlling her magic when growing up. Helping her contain her power during an episode, it damaged RD (two streaks of white hair) but they were eventually able to regulate her magic as well. Ria became the ruler of RD's home country when their legacy and history was revealed and RD deposed the previous ruler after they took River.

Later in their lives, the Devil (the arcana) tries to take revenge and RD fights to save their family. RD was able to destroy the ancient entity but Asra loses the remaining half of his soul. He doesnt outright die, but he falls into a coma with no hope of waking up. Julian (the doctor) suggests a vivisection which was immediately shut down by RD. They go to meet their patron arcana, the Strength, to make a deal in order to save Asra. After some arguing, the Strength takes the entirety of RD's powers in exchange for his life which also turned their hair stark white. Overwhelmed with relief, they both break out into sobs.

RD and Asra continued their lives, going to the Winter Ball, participating in the Painted Daisy Festival, running their shop, and so on. Although they miss the convenience of magic, RD does not regret giving up their magic at all. They do have a fear that they won't be able to protect their family anymore but everyone is very capable on their own and take care of their aging nonny. RD needs to be treated for their cursed arms bc it causes them chronic pain since they no longer have to magic to treat it consistently.

In the slide of the twins, River is talking about the goddess (Terra) he met.

Asra looks at RD fondly as he thinks about how he was able to grow old with the love of his life.

[spookymultimedia]

I'm so sorry that you have to have a body

Cartman, as an intersex boy, tries to explain how he feels about the parts of his body that were surgically changed when he was a baby.

Cartman was in bed hugging his pillow close to his chest when Kyle walked into his room. The front door was unlocked and so he and Stan just walked up to Cartman’s room to see what he was up to and if he wanted to throw rocks at the ice at Stark Pond. Cartman was curled into himself like a little pill bug, facing the wall.

“Hey, fatass.” Kyle approached his bed.

“Fuck off.” Cartman mumbled between sniffles.

“Dude are you crying?”

Cartman hid his face into his pillow to muffle his tears, it didn't work though.

“What's wrong?” asked Stan

and

Cartman just hid under his blankets.

“What?? Tell us.” Kyle hopped into Cartman's bed shook him, “Come on, talk to us!” Cartman tried to kick him off the bed with no success. He crawled on top of Cartman, “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Cartman scowled at him. He didn't not like being touched by Kyle, but he was all lame and pathetic right now so he didn't want Kyle to see him like that.

“It's personal.”

“Okay and?” Kyle cocked his head. He scoffed at Kyle. He pushed him off and sat up.

“ . . . .I'm still thinking about what my Mom told me last week.”

“Oh, is this about your pee pee?”

“Grow up Kyle nobody calls it that!” He rubbed his eyes and tried to wipe his nose with his nose. Stan joined Kyle in bed.

“So it is about your pee pee?”

“Yes it's about my junk! God.”

“My Mom told me that Kyle's Mom told her that you had surgery as a baby and it was bad for some reason,” said Stan

“It's dehumanizing that's what.” He mumbled through his shakey tears.

“Stop crying, we can't understand you!” said Kyle

Cartman just growled at him and gently kicked him on the arm.

“It still bothers you? The surgery?”

“I hate my body,” he croaked out.

Kyle looked sadly at him, he genuinely sounded in pain.

“It's okay if you have a tiny dick. We're just joking around when we say that, it's not a big deal.”

“It's not even a dick! It doesn't look anything like a fucking dick! Its-,” he hiccuped, “It's just this weird looking mound of flesh that they just forced to be there!” He broke out into tears and looked down towards the bed.

“I'm sorry.” Kyle petted his back. A weird warm feeling filled his chest when he did that, it felt nice. “You know, they have cool prosthetics now. I heard about this guy who got his dick chopped off in the war-”

“Which war?” Stan interrupted.

“It doesn't matter! Anyway, his dick got sliced off and after that he started wearing this fake dick in his pants so he could look normal! You could have one too.” Kyle smiled at him.

“Normal?” He gave Kyle a dirty look.

“Like, I get it, it sucks not being born with a normal dick and there's nothing you can do about it but at least you can look a little normal with a fake one.”

“NO KYLE YOU DON'T FUCKING GET IT!” he snapped, “I DON'T WANT A NORMAL DICK I WANT DOCTORS TO KEEP THEIR FUCKING HANDS OFF MY FUCKING BODY!!”

Kyle flinched, “Jesus Christ, okay, I'm sorry dude.”

“Then what do you want your body to look like?” asked Stan

“ I WANT to be how I was BORN!! But I can't. My Mom took the fucking option away from me. It's not fair!! I'm sick and tired of people trying to tell me how I should feel about my body! IT'S MINE!! Those fucking libt*rds say shit like ‘It's my body my my choice’ but when it comes to MINE I don't get a fucking choice!”

“Cartman. . .”

He laid in bed and screamed at the top of his lungs into a pillow.

“You wanna throw rocks at Starks Pond and see if the ice will crack?” asked Stab.

Cartman quietly looked up at Stan. He sat up and blew his nose on a tissue before wiping his eyes.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Finally!! Let's go!” Kyle shot out of the bed and ran to the door. Cartman slowly got out of bed and put on a sweater and coat over his shirt.

“Eric?”

Cartman looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

Stan opened his arms out for a hug. Cartman walked to him and dropped into his arms. Stan was already growing and towered over Cartman. Cartman hid his face in his friend's chest, hugging his waist. Stan awkwardly hugged him back. They made their way down and found Kyle with a wagon full of rocks that Kenny walked over with.

“DUDE!!” Cartman's face lit up “These are fucking huge!! We're totally gonna break the ice!!”

“I got dibs on the big one!!” Kyle shouted.

“Ey!! That's not fair!”

They ran off to the lake and did their usual bullshit. Kenny fell into the lake while sliding a hunk of concrete onto the ice, of course.

[blurredcolour]

The Night Moves | Part Three

The Night Moves Masterlist

Alternate Universe

supernatural!Bradley Bradshaw x Female Reader; supernatural!Jacob Seresin x Female Reader

Summary: An internship with the Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History should have been the highlight of your academic career. The perfect addition to your resume while you worked on your doctoral thesis. An interdepartmental assignment, however, sees your reality ripped apart by incomprehensible forces. Five tumultuous days will leave you forever changed and inextricably linked to two men born centuries apart.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Violence, Blood, Supernatural Themes, Historical Inaccuracies, Institutional Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ Only

Word Count: 4844

-------------------------

-Thursday-

“That’s it. Five-hundred tagged gala favors.” You exhaled in relief, tying the last bow and setting the final pouch into the box with the others.

“Thank fuck, that only took what, two hours?” Amira sighed dramatically, rolling her hazel eyes.

Chuckling softly, you shook your head at your fellow intern’s free use of curse words in the conference room. Granted it was nearly seven-thirty in the evening and the pair of you were probably the last ones in the building. “I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I volunteered to help Resource Development with this Food History Gala.”

“Hopefully the actual event is more exciting than stuffing rare seeds into velvet pouches for the well-heeled attendees.” She grinned, her uniquely asymmetrical face making the expression all the more mischievous.

“Well thanks to your dresses, we actually have a chance of blending in.” You echoed her grin, rising to your feet.

“My impeccable taste saves the day yet again.” She laughed brightly, her salon perfected platinum blonde locks brushing against her jaw as she walked with you. “Hey, my boyfriend and I are going out for Vietnamese, do you want to join us?”

“Oh, I appreciate the offer, really, but tonight I am taking a bath and crawling into bed early for the first time this week.” You shook your head emphatically, flicking off the lights and locking up the room behind you.

“Oh shit, yeah, that is completely fair. I honestly can’t believe you’re still doing this…” She shook her head as you made your way back to your shared workspace.

Shrugging your shoulders, you slid your hands into the pockets of your cozy sweater. “Looks good on the resume, impresses the facility, and RD emphasized the networking opportunities…It’ll be worth it.”

Amira retrieved all but the chosen dresses for tomorrow night’s gala, leaving those hanging in your cubicle to change into after work, while you grabbed your scarf, jacket, and work bag. Parting ways at the staff entrance, she headed for her boyfriend’s waiting Prius while you followed your usual path to the Smithsonian Metro station.

“Good evening, Miss Intern.” His voice cut through the darkness of the Mall and your head snapped in his direction as your feet stuttered to a stop.

Rising from a bench, the bench that you and Bradley had occupied just two nights previous while you awaited your ride, was the blond stranger from the courtyard last night. You watched as he tossed a takeout cup into a nearby garbage can and strode over to you easily.

“Who are you…” You breathed, flooded with a combination of both curiosity and trepidation.

“Lieutenant Jacob Seresin, at your service Miss Intern.” He grinned, teeth glinting sharply in the streetlights. He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a slow, beverage-warmed kiss to your skin before slowly turning your hand in his, eyes falling to your inner wrist intently.

Furrowing your brows, the movement of your muscles slowed by some unseen force, you muttered your name, correcting him reflexively as irritation simmered within you. His eyes flickered to your face, luminated from within by something sinister as he repeated it reverently.

“What divine chance to happen upon you here. Might I tempt you with a stroll through the park?” Jacob asked as he straightened, your hand still ensnared in the dwindling warmth of his.

Your eyes ricocheted from his face to your hand and then out onto the Mall, feeling somewhat reassured by the lingering presence of tourists – it wasn’t that late, not yet eight o’clock. You turned back to eye the lieutenant sceptically, filled with a great deal of uncertainty about his invitation and yet brimming with the desire to know more about him. About why he kept showing up in the most unusual places. Why he kept calling you ‘Miss Intern.’ There was also the fact that your mouth seemed suddenly physically incapable of forming the word ‘no.’ That seemed to be the final deciding factor.

You nodded your agreement wordlessly and he grinned broadly, tucking your arm into his elbow, effortlessly guiding your body closer to his. He struck out along the path, leading you at a confident but leisurely pace. A chill bit at your skin as the night closed in and you wound your wool scarf tighter around your neck with your free hand.

“You are far too lovely to toil in a cruel place such as that.” He commented, glancing at you with a surprisingly tender expression.

“In a place like…the museum?” You tilted you head, finding it difficult, once again, to think clearly in his presence.

“A woman of your calibre ought to be cherished.” He replied and you barely registered that he was leading you away from the more popular attractions and instead guiding you across the Mall towards the temporarily closed Smithsonian Castle. “Treasured. Cared for.”

You scoffed weakly. “I like my job…” Every thought took forever to pass through your mind, as if it were flowing down a river of molasses. “Want to make a career of it…”

“You like the past, do you?” He probed as you passed the Folger Rose Garden, a place so green and cheerful during the day somehow haunting and lifeless after sunset.

As you nodded you were filled with the unsettling sensation that your head was weightless, barely tethered to your shoulders. “I find it fascinating.” You murmured as he turned the corner at the edge of Arts and Industries building, leading you into the dark collection of trees inside the Ripley Garden.

It had been quite sometime since you had passed another person, a fact that your befuddled state prevented you from registering.

“Was it fascinating the other day? Unearthing horrors that one so beautiful as you has no business being exposed to?” He raised an accusatory eyebrow and your throat clenched nervously.

“That was an unusual situa– wait…how did you…” You stumbled to a halt, and he turned back to face you.

“Never mind such vulgarities, pet.” He fairly purred, lifting your hand once again, face partially in shadow. “Please…” Guiding your inner wrist to his lips once more, he repeated his plea from the night before, “let me taste you…”

“What…” Eyes shooting wide, you shook your head, trying desperately to clear it as your pulse leapt at your throat. “Who are you?!” You asked again, voice no more than a thin hiss, trying to claw your way out of the fog that seemed to cloud your mind in his presence.

His green eyes looked up at you through his luscious lashes, glinting dangerously as you felt something sharp pressing against your skin before a searing pain blended with a scorching desire licked up your arm before spreading through your body. The desolate garden echoed with a mixture of moans echoing from each of your throats as you sank back onto a red brick retaining wall, your legs threatening to give out entirely.

Just as you began to struggle to keep your eyes open, overwhelmed by the sensations he was pulling from you, a figure collided with Jacob’s side. You yelped in shocked as his mouth was wrenched from your wrist, revealing to your eyes the welling of bright red blood. Panic rose swiftly within you, and you cast about for something to press against the now freely bleeding wound before your hand brushed against your scarf. Yanking it from your neck you wrapped it around your wrist tightly before turning your attention to the nearby sounds of struggle, blinking at the scene before you blearily.

Grunts and curses intertwined with inhuman snarling as they struggled for dominance on the brick pathway. Though the man initially had the advantage of surprise initially, Jacob rolled and pinned the attacker, striking a few blows to his face before tossing him aside carelessly. The hollow ringing of the lamppost as the man’s body collided with it had you flinching in fear, convinced he had broken his spine, and yet somehow, he was soon struggling back to his feet.

You gasped sharply as in the glow of that streetlamp, the man at last came into focus as one Bradley Bradshaw. At your sound, Jacob appeared momentarily distracted, glancing at you quickly, and Bradley took advantage of that distraction to lunge forward at Jacob once more. They tossed one another into bushes, over benches, and wrestled on the ground once more, the two men seeming a fairly equal match in strength.

A particularly brutal blow to the jaw left Jacob dazed enough to give Bradley the opportunity to reach into the inside pocket of his jacket, producing a long object you couldn’t quite discern at your current distance. That inhuman snarl fell from Jacob’s lips once more, and he shoved Bradley to the ground harshly before taking off in the opposite direction, leaving him laying on the pathway.

Pushing yourself to your feet, intent on making sure he was alright, you were startled when he was quickly at your side. He gently took hold of your forearm, lifting your scarf to take a peek at your wrist before pressing the fabric back down.

“Keep pressure on it.” He murmured, sliding an arm around your waist.

“What the fuck is going on…” You asked shakily, craning your neck to try and look over his face, assess his injuries after his brawl.

“I’ll tell you in the car.”

Bradley half carried you out of there, his arm waist bracing you tightly against his body while constantly reminding you to keep pressure on your wrist. The Bronco was waiting in the drop off zone in front the Castle, four-ways flashing, and you were promptly loaded into the front seat. He even put on your seatbelt, affording you the opportunity to observe the bruises, cuts, and abrasions to his face up close.

“You’re hurt!” You exclaimed lamely.

“I’ll be alright.” He grunted and shut your door carefully before hurrying around to the driver’s side and peeling out aggressively.

You clutched the door handle reflexively before quickly returning your hand back to putting pressure on your wrist before he had a chance to remind you again. “Bradley…”

He exhaled slowly before unlocking his phone handing it to you. “Can you put your address in again?” He licked his lips nervously, thanking you once you had returned it with navigation instructions playing. “I’m going to be as honest with you as I can be, and I apologize in advance for how difficult it may be to believe.”

“Bradley a man who keeps showing up randomly and makes me feel all weird when I’m around him and even though I know better I still follow him into dark places, just bit me…and then he threw you into a lamppost and your spine should be broken but it’s not and you’re going to be alright?!” Your voice took an a rather unattractive shrillness that had even you wincing and you swallowed, taking a slow breath before continuing more calmly. “Try me.”

“That man is a vampire. The sarcophagus opened by the Forensic Anthropology department was previously in the care of a society of individuals who very wisely keep sealed boxes shut because usually they have very bad things inside them. The fire, however, destroyed the box’s home and protector and the geniuses you work for let their curiosity get the best of them.”

Vampire. An undead, nightwalking, blood-sucking, vampire.

It was difficult to pay attention to anything he said after that word left his lips, but his glib insults directed at the Smithsonian institution raised your hackles and drew your focus once again.

“Bad things in boxes are not within the purview of scientific and historical study, Bradley.” You snapped defensively. “That sort of consideration appears nowhere in our standard operating procedures or in the risk/reward equations that are thoroughly considered before discovered remains are examined. Besides the decision was way above my pay grade.” You finished in a bitter mutter feeling suddenly rather culpable for releasing a monster from the eighteenth century into the modern world. The fingers previously holding your ruined scarf tightly to your wound shifting to rub the fabric against your skin as it began to itch a little.

Bradley’s fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist, halting your movements with a firm yet gentle grip. “I know it’s itchy, that’s a good sign, but try not to scratch.”

You sighed heavily and leaned back into the seat, feeling an awful lot like a scolded child.

“I know you didn’t open the box.” He muttered gruffly, moving his hand to rest on your knee. “But that’s not all it took for him to get up and walk around. He would have gone centuries without blood. Someone had to wake him up.”

Glancing over at him, you watched as the intermittent illumination of oncoming headlights and streetlights highlighted his features, starting to wonder just how he knew so much about all of this when Jacob’s initial tortured, mummified appearance came back to you. “It was deeply unsettling to be in the room with him like that…I tried to convince myself that it was just because of normal desiccation but…” You trailed off.

“He would have suffered as he starved.” Bradley agreed, squeezing your knee. “You weren’t imagining it.”

“I was so freaked out I panic-signed the forms and gave myself a –” The words died on your lips, eyes widening in alarm as those three innocuous seconds; the slicing of your finger, the shaking of your hand, the scatter of blood drops, registered in a new light.

Bradley said your name, tone low and apprehensive. “What did you give yourself? What happened in there?” His grip tightened on your knee, and you tensed.

“Papercut.” You replied meekly, grimacing at he uttered a harsh ‘fuck’ under his breath.

“That’s why he’s so obsessed with you.” He turned onto the exit to Ashburn. “He had the tiniest of tastes after hundreds of years and now you’ve become some kind of fixation.”

“So, he’s going to keep following me? Trying to bite me? Because I’m a fucking klutz!?”

“I’ve honestly never seen it before, but it seems that it’s the case, yes.” Bradley replied, pulling up at your building, turning to you at your noise of dismay. “Hey, it’s going to be ok. Come on, let’s get you inside. He cannot enter your home unless you invite him. You must never ever invite him in, no matter how persuasive he is.”

He unbuckled your seatbelt before climbing out of his side, coming around to help you out but you found yourself eyeing him suspiciously. “Bradley…why do you know so much about this?” You looked him over, still seated in the car, before reaching out to grasp his jaw. “You…you’re not like him, are you?” Shifting your thumb to press against the centre of his chin you pushed down, forcing his mouth open to inspect his teeth.

All you saw were two rows of perfectly normal teeth, including average canines, and his lips twitching into a smirk. Releasing his face, you slid from the car warily.

“I am not. Can I prove it to you?” He asked and you nodded slowly, still watching his every move closely. “Let’s head up to your apartment.”

Pulling your keys from your bag, you followed him up the stairs, finding your fingers anything but dextrous as you dropped them twice onto your doormat as you tried to select the right key for your deadbolt. Bradley retrieved them for you the second time and had you to point out the correct key before unlocking the door.

“Have you ever invited me in?” He asked and you shook your head, watching him step over the threshold and into your apartment before turning back to reach a hand out to you.

Hesitating a moment, you considered the facts – he had a suspicious wealth of knowledge about vampires, and yet he had saved your life at least twice now. If he wanted you dead, it would have been quite easy to let the undead lieutenant have his way with you. Swallowing tightly, you set your hand in his, allowing him to guide you into your own home and down the hall toward the bathroom. You were somewhat soothed by the fact that he seemed to be guessing about the direction in which it lay before trying all the light switches until the room was illuminated.

Gesturing for you to sit on the edge of the tub you watched as he opened the medicine cabinet to find some rubbing alcohol and bandages before coming to kneel in front of you and carefully unwrap your scarf from your wrist. You winced, squinting one eye shut as the wool fibres pulled at the barely dried blood but did your best not to complain.

“Sorry.” He muttered, tossing the ruined garment into the garbage can behind him, before sliding you along the porcelain surface towards the tap.

Bradley turned on the water and adjusting the temperature until it was comfortably warm before guiding your arm beneath the stream. You watched as the water sluiced over the patches of dried blood, turning pink as it swirled the drain, revealing two small puncture wounds beside the tendons running up the centre of your wrist. Bradley used the soap from your counter to carefully clean your forearm before patting it dry. He then prepped a cotton swab with some rubbing alcohol and looked up to you from his kneeling position, expression apologetic.

“I’ll try to be quick, but this will sting.”

You nodded in understanding, bracing yourself as he quickly dabbed at each of the marks marring your skin. Tucking your lips under your teeth you swallowed your hiss but still flinched, the reaction involuntary in the face of the brief, stinging pain. Thankfully Bradley was quick, true to his word, and applied a wide bandage with a soothing antibacterial cream. “These heal fairly easily, just remember not to scratch.”

You nodded quickly, watching him stand and dispose of the garbage from his application of first aid. “Thank you.”

“Let’s get some food into you.” He took your hands gently, helping you to your feet and you reached out slowly to brush your fingers along a nasty cut on his cheekbone.

“Let me clean you up first.” You protested quietly. “Least I can do.”

“That’s fine, it’ll heal by tomorrow.” He insisted trying to pull you toward the kitchen, movements somewhat stiff, reminding you of his less than gentle collision with a lamppost.

“Please Bradley, let me look at your back at least…” You insisted stubbornly, stepping around him awkwardly in the limited space to carefully push up his jacket and the shirt beneath.

The ugly black bruise, streaking diagonally across his back, made you exhale shakily. “This has gotta hurt like hell…”

“I’ve had worse…” He rasped bravely and you let out an exasperated huff, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t care if you’ve been hurt worse in the past, you’re hurt badly enough right now. I’ve got bruise cream around here somewhere, can I please put some on this?”

He glanced back at you over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not going to let this go, are you.”

“The chances are slim.” You admitted with a shrug, causing his lips to twitch fondly.

“Fine.” He grumbled, shrugging out of his jacket which you caught, sliding it down his arms and hanging it on the doorknob as he carelessly pulled off his thin black sweater.

You turned back to a very shirtless Bradley Bradshaw, stunned in a stupor for the second time that evening as your eyes traced over the well-defined muscles of his back. He was still tanned from the summer, skin dotted with beauty marks begging to be kissed, and more than a few scars confirming tonight had not been his first fight.

“Cream?” He prompted, voice laced with a blend of cockiness and teasing.

“Right.” You replied quickly and dove into the cupboard beneath the sink, riffling about for your less commonly used first aid supplies, surfacing with the tube of bruise cream.

Taking a fortifying breath, you applied a dollop to your fingertips before dotting it lightly along the bruise down his back. “Please tell me if I’m pressing too hard.” You urged him, waiting for his nod before carefully beginning to rub the cream into his skin.

You took solace in the fact that the tension in his back and shoulders seemed to ease as you worked, turning to wash your hands once the injury was sufficiently covered. “All done. You sure I can’t look at your face?”

He turned and sat on the edge of the tub, the unofficial treatment spot you had recently occupied, his shirt still in his hand, and looked up to you expectantly. “If you must.”

Stepping closer you leaned in to examine his face, washing the cuts and abrasions and applying some cream to the bruises. “Does it at least feel better?”

“Yes.” He admitted grudgingly. “Thank you.” He nodded and you smiled a little, cleaning up as he stood to pull his sweater back on. “Now I’m starving so you must be at the very least vaguely hungry?”

Chuckling softly, you led him to the kitchen, digging around in your cupboards for something simple to make. You glanced at him as he pulled out plates and cutlery, setting the small table in the dining room. “You know you never answered my question…How do –”

“I know so much about all this?” He finished your question for you, eyes focused on setting the forks, knives, and spoons just right. “I come from a family of vampire hunters. My father did this before me, and his father before him. I’ve been assigned to neutralize this threat.”

You brain once again snagged on one word in an explanation he provided and seemed unable to move on. Assigned. “This is your profession.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that. Genetics.” He laughed dryly. “Physical abilities I’ve inherited from my family. Anyone can learn to hunt vampires, but they don’t have the strength, speed, and healing that we do.”

“So, when you do…neutralize…the lieutenant then, you get a new assignment?” You looked back to your cutting board, continuing the bit of chopping before you.

“The lieutenant?” He raised an eyebrow and came over to lean against the counter beside you. “That man is a vampire, nothing more. The person who he was before he was turned was murdered in the process. All that remains is a creature that survives off the blood of its victims. And that creature is obsessed with you.” You swallowed tightly, setting your knife down on the cutting board and looking up at his determined face, an expression you had yet to see him wear. “So yes, once I kill him and neutralize the threat against you and all of Washington, I will get a new assignment and go take care of some other vampire.”

“You kiss all your assignments?” You asked him acidly and though you immediately regretted it, you had no idea how to take it back.

Whirling and stalking over to the stove, you tossed the ingredients from your cutting board into the hot frying pan. The only sound filling the kitchen was the sizzling as they cooked.

“That was unprofessional and I’m sorry.” He muttered after several minutes of awkward silence passed, making you jump slightly and glare back at him. “It was not supposed to happen. You were a lead and I got very,” he sighed heavily, slowly unfurling the fists clenched at his sides “very distracted.”

“Hm. I guess I should apologize too, then.” You replied though your tone was not at all remorseful.

“Don’t bother, you had no idea.” He replied flatly before running a hand through his slightly dishevelled curls. “Look, I get that you are angry. I would love to give you your space, however I think that my target will be back, and I do not feel comfortable leaving you alone.”

Loathe to admit it, Bradley did have a point. The lieutenant, you stubbornly though of him as, had been in your courtyard last night. He knew where you lived, and it would be in your best interest to keep a vampire hunter close at hand just in case. Even if he did seem to have a loose sense of professionalism.

“Good, I made too much food for just me anyway.” You replied and dished equal portions onto the plates he had set on the dining table before turning to get yourself something to drink. “Water?” You offered reaching for a second glass.

“Please.” He replied quietly and you set two full glasses on the table before tucking into your meal.

The pair of you ate in silence, the sound of cutlery on china filling the void, until that began to grate on your nerves too. And your simmering curiosity boiled over. “So, your whole family does this?” You asked quietly, taking a sip of water.

He let out a breath of relief and nodded, swallowing his bite. “My father was born into it, my mom married into it.” At the mention of his mother, he seemed to remember his manners. “Dinner is delicious, thank you for cooking.”

“You’re welcome.” You took another bite, mulling over all that he had shared since he interrupted the lieutenant in the park. “So do you…get to retire or?” He stilled a moment, bite poised just in front of his mouth, and you tensed realizing you had hit a nerve. “Sorry, forget about it.” You added quickly, shoveling the last of your food onto your fork and into your mouth before standing to go fill the sink with water to wash up.

His plate landing on the counter beside you startled you again, driving home just how tired and overwhelmed you were by the events of the last three days. “I’ll wash you dry?” He offered, rolling up his sleeves.

Nodding silently, you stepped aside to let him take over the sink, grabbing a tea towel from where it hung on the oven handle. “Most of us don’t make it to retirement.” He suddenly answered your question and you frowned.

“Bradley, I’m sorry you don’t have to…” You trailed off as he shook his head and set a clean glass in the drain tray. You picked it up to dry as he continued.

“My dad died when I was two, I really don’t remember him other than the stories people tell me about him. My uncle, who’s not really my uncle but might as well be, he’s a hunter too. Was my dad’s best friend and kind of filled in for him. He’s the oldest hunter I’ve ever heard of.” He spoke to the bubbles of dish soap in the sink as he scrubbed the cutlery, the plates, and then the pots and pans. Not once meeting your eyes.

Guilt wrenched at your heart for as hurt as you felt by his earlier revelation about what he was doing in your life, it by no means meant you wished for him to suffer. “Would you ever…want to do something else?” You asked quietly after a few beats of silence.

He looked to you for the first time in a while, face awash in confusion as though he had never once considered anything else. “I have no idea what that would be. I was born for this. Raised for it. My whole community is built around it.” He shrugged. “It is what it is.” He turned back to the frying pan, carefully scrubbing it clean before pulling the plug from the drain.

“Thanks for your help.” You commented lamely. “I’ll make up the pullout couch so you can have the bed…I don’t think you’ll fit on the pullout.” You laughed once, eyeing his height.

He blinked and shook his head. “Oh, I won’t be sleeping tonight. Night is the only time vampires can be up and about. The only time my target is a threat. Would you mind if I made some coffee, though?”

Shaking your head quickly you got him set up for his night watch before a yawn overtook you.

“You should really get some sleep.” He murmured and you swallowed painfully, very much wishing you could read more into his concern for your well being, but painfully aware that was no longer a possibility, what with his renewed sense of professionalism and all.

You should not even want him to care, anyway, not after his duplicitousness. But ‘should’ rarely mattered when feelings were concerned.

“Yeah, I think I will. Good night, Bradley.” You nodded.

“Night.” He offered a thin-lipped smile, and you paused a second, waiting for the addition of ‘sweetheart’ before realizing you were probably not going to hear that from him again.

Turning quickly, you did your utmost to walk calmly down the hall, shutting the door to your bedroom behind you, lest your complete lack of a poker face expose your disappointment.

-------------------------

Read Part Four

The Night Moves Masterlist

Tag list: @moonyinthestars, @roger-that-cap, @gaminffnerd, @blckgrl-sunflower

[cipheramnesia]

Trying to craft jokes like Rodney Dangerfield used to do is just a really fun writing challenge for me. Like, his material is quite tricky to write anyway, but I have added a further challenge to make the jokes queer and avoid or minimize self deprication. So for a lot of them I have his pacing down but they're longer than I'd like.

But so the basic formula is one sentence should frame the landscape, the background, the situation as it were; and then the next sentence is the punchline. Ever so often there's three sentences, with a middle sentence bridging the set-up and punchline, but that's about the max. My attempts often go to four or five sentences, which is too long when you compare it to a guy who could just punch out like four or five jokes a minute. There's so many so fast it looks easy but especially trying to make them queer specific it take a lot of work to hone them.

Like, the first thing I think most people get wrong is trying to play the frame to a too specific audience. It's like okay, it works for memes online, but when I'm framing one of my RD type jokes I'm trying to imagine what an offline audience in Nebraska or Ohio might be familiar with. Thankfully there's much more trans awareness, but not enough to always reliably throw complicated queer ideas in two lines, so you keep the broad concepts really simple. My wife, my dad, my job, my doctor, etc. These are all pretty reliable touchstones for people who aren't always going to process my nonbinary asexual wife and my relationship and the whole complex polyamory thing.

It's all about compacting information to its minimal possible state of compression, trying to cut away every last scrap of extraneous detail. Every single thing to understand the punchline should be in the first sentence, which somehow also needs to be the verbal equivalent of brightly colored preschool shapes.

Once all that information is delivered, the follow through has to transform it into something different, but which carries the ideas of the framework forward in a logical way. The first step ideally makes people paint a picture of their own version of Dad or Doctor or Wife. With Rodney Dangerfield, the second step usually involved dropping himself in as a loser getting dumped on. Like "I went to the doctor and he said I was overweight. I said I wanted a second opinion so he said fine, you're also ugly." It's a classic but not really the vibe I want, but also fortunately being a trans queerdo gives me something entertainingly contrary to the familiar ideas in the set up. Like "geeze Dad I thought you'd be upset I'm trans. Well I wish you'd been a lawyer but as long as you're happy." That's a cute gag that needs a little extra framing up front but ultimately plays on many ideas broadly familiar to a wide audience while generating a pretty amusing bit of absurdity for a laugh (being a lawyer isn't the same as being a gender, funny!).

Anyway, it's just a really exciting process for me to get a kind of shitpost idea, but then workshop it into one of those one-two punch jokes. Some of them need a little more fine tuning, but they're all much more carefully crafted than meets the eye. A bit like the haiku, the formula is simple, but learning how to build it takes work.

[greeneyed-thestral]

PEOPLE WHO LIVE IN LONDON OR HAVE BEEN THERE!

Hi! I'll soon be in London for a few days, for the very first time. My idea is not to really plan anything, I just wanna walk around and see what this city is like. I pinned down some places I wanna visit (inspired mostly by The Beatles, Sherlock, Good Omens, Doctor Who and other british series).

Could you tell me if I'm missing something or if there are things I should avoid? Really, any do's and don'ts, I would really appreciate it. + Big Ben + Broadgate Tower + Buckingham Palace + Carlton House Terrace + Harrods + King's Cross + London Eye + Leinster Gardens + Piccadilly Circus + Reform Club + Savini at Criterion + Scotland Yard + Southbank Skate Space + Speedy's Sandwich Bar & Cafe + St Bartholomew's Hospital + St James the Less Church + St Paul's Cathedral + The Ritz Restaurant + Tower of London + Westminster + British Museum + Lincoln's Inn Library + Madame Tussauds + National Gallery + Natural History Museum + Battersea Park + Crystal Palace Park + Finsbury Park + Hyde Park + St. James's Park + Tavistock Square Gardens + West End + Royal National Theatre + Shakespeare's Globe + The Old Vic + Young Vic + Camden Town + Chinatown + Covent Garden + More London + Shad Thames + Soho + 44 Eaton Square + Berkeley Square + Russell Square + Trafalgar Square + Tower Bridge + Waterloo Bridge + Westminster Bridge + 3 Savile Row + 10 Downing St + 187N Gower St + 221B Baker St + Abingdon St + Berwick St + Whitfield St + Abbey Rd. + Cardwell Rd + Crayford Rd + Heddon St + Hornsey Rd + Eastfields Ave Also, some questions: - What's the weather like now? What should I wear? - Which are the districts I should avoid? - Should I be worried about public transport? - Where and when should I have afternoon tea? - Can I access the British Museum just to have tea/eat? - Any other suggestions on where to eat? Thank you so so much to whoever answers, either under this post or in private! 🙏

[aimforthecat]

oh reddie snowed in car wreck vent WIP, by beloved

i’ll finish you one day, i swear…

He scooped his phone up and looked through the missed texts and calls from his parents and the other Losers heading back to Derry. He scrolled to his moms contact, called Mother Magitha, and hit 'call'. When he put his phone to his ear, he was shocked to hear the call connecting and not the dial tone he was expecting.

He glanced over to Eddie, "It's ringing!" He said and raised his eyebrows in excitement and fear. The phone rang a few times, not surprising since it was well passed 1 am, before the groggy voice of Mrs. Maggie Tozier came through loud and clear.

"You better be dead or pregnant," Maggie grumbled down the line, causing Richie to choke out a laugh.

"Well, since I'm calling you, I'm gonna have to say those are both impossible." Richie chuckled, panic already easing at the sound of his mothers voice.

"Richie! I thought you were your sister!" Maggie gasped, the sound of sheets rustling was heard over the line," Are you alright? Is Eddie?" She sounded a bit out of breath now.

"Yes, Ma, we're fine," Richie sighed, "we just kind of..slid into a snow drift and now the car is completely buried in snow and we're stuck in it." Richie breathed out in a rush.

"Richard! That is not okay. Are you both hurt at all?" He could hear her footsteps on the creaky stairs and the sound of his dads voice in the background, "Richie!"

"We're fine! We're fine, Ma! I slowed us down enough that we didn't even get whiplash or anything," Richie laughed out.

"We'll let a doctor decide that, and are you sure Eddie's okay? Let me talk to him," Maggie's voice was dripping with concern, but Richie still rolled his eyes and he put the phone on speaker and held it between them,

"you're on speaker Ma."

"Eddie, hon, are you okay?" Maggie's tinny voice rang loud in the snow blanketed car.

"Yes ma'am, we're both perfectly fine," Eddie said with a small smirk to Richie, he always loved how Richie's mother was concerned in a normal, motherly, non overbearing way.

"Well you boys just sit tight, we're coming for ya once we get a tow, she paused and they could hear fabric rustling, most likely her coat being put on, "do you know where you are?"

"We'd just passed the Visitor Center in Kittery, I think we're on..." Richie trailed off, trying to remember the signs he'd passed, "Cutts Rd?"

Maggie sighed, "Alright well you're still about 3 hours out then, so stay warm, keep your hazards on, and for the life of me don't let your phone die!" Maggie listed with increasing volume.

Richie and Eddie huffed out a laugh and agreed before ending the phone call.

They sat in the stark silence of the car afterwards, every noise muffled and dampened from the feet of snow covering them. Richie reached out and pressed the hazards button on his dash, causing the

'click..click..click" of his lights to break the silence, and the yellow lights flashing, giving them more visibility.

"Fuck.." Eddie sighed, "three hours to kill, huh?" He tilted his head against his head rest, looking at Richie who did the same. A sleazy smirk crossed Richie's face and Eddie knew whatever he said, it wasn't gonna be good.

"Whatever will we do to pass the time, oh Eds my Spagheds, whatever shall we do," he trailed off and tapped his chin in faux thought, adjusted his glasses, and then shot up again, "I know! Let's make out!"

Eddie knew it was coming, it always was. Ever since the first party they went to freshman year, where Eddie got way too drunk and said a lot of shit he didn't mean to, one of which was hanging off of Richie and moaning about how much he wants to kiss with him.

It was true. Still is, now at the end of their sophomore year. But of course, Richie being Richie, just took it as one more tool in his 'Fucking With Eddie Kit and brought it up as much as possible. So yeah, Eddie was expecting it, and he knew how he had to respond.

"Beep beep, asshole," he bit out and rolled his eyes,

"like I want your trashmouth anywhere near me.

"See, but I have it on good authority that you want the opposite of that," Richie said with that same stupid sexy smirk as he leaned over the center console and into Eddie space, "you want to kiss me," he said in a sing-song voice.

[bagofspoons]

do you have a fav char in dl yet o:

hello anon i wish i cld say yes. but i just dont feel like i kno every1 well enough yet…. my first impulse is RD or the doctor himself just bc their fight was FULL of some of my fav moments of the session. but mayb i shldnt just pick the 2 dragonborn lookin chars as my favs from the 2 campaigns im watching from bwhniwwd. eye dee kay…. alastrelle is so charming and sweet and miym is like. so cool and fun. and eiwn is so silly and i want to know more abt her and ma’el is a british mild asshole. see my post on my session 1 thoughts if u want more abt that. in conclusion. theyre all rly fun (AND PRETTY. WOUGH BABY I AM BISEXUAL) but i think RD and Pall’or are at the top of my list so far. subject 2 change probly as dynamics emerge

[sirwow]

hm. Thinking about Edega.. he’s very interesting to me so I’m gonna ramble for a sec about him.

after 5-2N Ian states this is the most Edega has ever spoken to (Lucky in specific) It’s strange for a cold man like him, but something similar happened with Hugh. The only two people Edega puts priority on were famous and influential, people who really could get word out. Mayhaps Edega wishes to give them the best care possible and do something revolutionary, getting their hospital on the chart. After all he stated himself that their hospital was pretty under due to the staff drought that they need an experimental intern to help. If he could do something revolutionary in medicine and really get that out there things would be better for patients and the staff.

(Cut here to not flood RD TL)

However. This is clearly overshadowed by selfishness. Edega is constantly on Ada and Ian for their productivity and time management, why aren’t they working harder and wasting their time when there’s so much to be done. Everyone must be self sufficient in Edega’s eyes, as long as what needs to be done is done for a patient, it’s good enough. Along with this, Edega always refers to the “ultimate cure” that’s being worked on as HIS, it’s HIS cure all. Despite seemingly Ian doing constant work for this project, intern and Ada gathering the tests and information, and the patients (especially Lucky) being guanine pigs to HIS cure. It’s clear the fame of a cure all bringing way to new things is snuffed by Edega’s intentions to take all fame for himself. They’re subordinates, why should they get credit?

And on that last note- the Patients. It’s already bad that Edega treats them as nothing more then numbers and care for them according to their status, but actively testing on them? The intern rhythm doctor program is stated to be just that a program. However, this program is not an equivalent alternative to healing. It helps in the short term, yes, but as seen with almost every patient they continue to need more treatments then just the one. Cole and Nicole’s addictions weren’t solved by the program, that was having each other, making the result of them being “cured” by the program a false positive.

Then there’s Insomniac. There’s no way Edega could of missed the reports of power getting knocked out in the hospital and my man’s literally LOSING part of his heart. And to be fair while they didn’t know the program caused it, he still didn’t take any procedures like stopping the program or going further into figuring out what went wrong to cause genuine damage. Lucky was being admitted and there was no time to waste on that, this was his chance to bring fame! Ian of course figured it out after chapter 5 inbetween working on this “cure” Edega wanted but it’s pretty clear Edega isn’t stopping the Rhythm Doctor program anytime soon. He’s too close now.

Call him Gabriel Icarus Edega, the sun is grand but the cost will drag him and everyone else down with him.

Ok I’m done being a nerd who looks too deep into things ❤️❤️ me when I grab this shithead and put him in the realm of “Good end goal - Bad practice and worse intentions in the pursuit of speed.” Bros a hypocrite for telling Lucky to be patient

[toadeyes-miqote]

Final Fantasy XIV vs Fate Grand Order - The hero of one story is(?) the villian of another

GACHA!!!!!!!! D luck Summoner Guda(ko) summons SR Archer Hylnyan via crystals lots and lots of quartz without hitting pity

The place she's in is pre calamity Coerthas

Help took down the one eye cyclops that is threathening a bunch of travellers

turns out to be a certain catgirl archer and a certain red chef and his dad along with their summoner and shield maiden

FGO team invite Hylnyan to travel to next town with them

They are looking for someone who has a dangerous something on them

Hylnyan is helpful as first until she finds out that Guda(ko) was ending timelines and worlds every month

To bring back what was once lost Guda(ko) has been doing this for 6 years now

Apparently pre ShB Emet was here somehow and that much needed conversation about destroying other shards/timelines/lostbelts/lostworlds amongst the three happened with Emet actively trying to recruit Guda(ko) and somehow a fight happens

Heroes' Gauntlet Round 2!!! Guda(ko)'s very fine Lancer Army and her Knights of the Round proceed to hunt Hylnyan down. sics dragons at her.. is HW this? Guda(ko) Necromancer this since they are all in shadow servant forms?

Basaka wa dare ni mo makenai sekai de ichiban tsuyoi rd 2

FGO team keeps tracking down Hylnyan

An encounter or two later to realize that Emet is using Guda(ko) to delay Hylnyan to get timeywhimey macguffin grail. Ends up working together

"We have to kill him Hylnyan." "..." "He would make a good summon... maybe a Ruler if not an Avenger."

"My Lobo is fluffier than your Fenir."

Hylnyan would still be conflicted at the end of the event but is sent back automatically because resolution. And would still take down Guda(ko) if she was a threat appearing in her neck of the woods

In another life Atalanta could have be a past life

"FOU! FOU!!!!!!"

----------------------

JP side is two years ahead in doing 7th Lostbelt with no specfic end in sight yet and no guarantee from my POV that OG world would be back

Much parallels spotted when playing both games. Especially Varis during Alliance parley and Wodime's Olympus monologue about godhood.

Guda(ko) aka Fujimaru Ritsuka was practically an Ascian and kinda Elidibus-Emet in a way yet not She's the only suitable compatible summoner left and then 6 years later...

But shards are not stagnant worlds and that LB1 conversation. Would it be much more ecplosive if G'raha (aka Pollux) was added to it since he did change timelines.

The conversation of Guda(ko), Emet (and if he wants to bring Elidibus it will be COOOOOLLLLL!!!!) WoL, Wodime would be quite something with an over dramatic Emet pitting Guda(ko) and Wodime against WoL and guilt tripping G'raha.

What would using the crystal tower, the mother crystal or Crystal Exarch as quartz payment bring? Would it bring back Doctor? Or restore Data Loss? What is this Link Lost with Avengers thing I hear about? I don't want to lose Lobo since Guda(ko) put in much effort for the wolf. I have to wait for the NA version...

That and the game just added Urianger's JP VA to servant list, Estinein and the twins when? XD

I don't fanfic the crossover because I can't handle how obsessed I would be if I have to write it. The most is limited interaction because its huge and I'm not really sure how to resolve it.

Yeah this was actually a loose pierce base on where Hylnyan's missing mate might have went during ARR.

#wolqotd time! Your Warrior of Light/XIV OC is transported to the OTHER media you most recently watched/played/read: how are they doing?

[babylove007]

Just when I'm happy

Just when I am afloat

Just when the money is right

And the budgetting list is done

And the grocery list is thought out and prepared

And tupperware is bought

And a backpack is there for support and sufficent flow through the day

And the laundry is completely done

Something changes. A bank card is stolen. A video game console is stolen. Id is stolen. A pack of smokes goes missing. Natasha rummages through my back and uses my mascara in front of me. My bags are stolen from tim hortons, from wherever I am, A new sign for no household garbage is up Like have you ever had anybody in your family die of cancer? Do you have no idea what that looks like? Do you give a flying fuck? No you don't. You truly don't. You have not a fucking clue.

And then I am sad, and I will not shower and I will not buy proper food to keep me awake through the day, Because you do have a clue You have planned this You did warn me I'd walk 1.5hrs to Bens Infront of Audrey's while I was in her apartment at Grenfell With mom present, and your fucking bros present And you know what, fuck you Allyce. I mean, fuck you Steve and Harmony Road. I do remember you thinking this was fucking funny after I jumped from the balcony. But it's you. It's like I knew you were there, that it was on you, your fucking fault and yknow what, I was right.

I will never be loved in your eyes I will never be enough for you in your eyes I will never be enough to live in your eyes I will never be worth saving or calling a fucking ambulance for or asking a doctor what kind of deodorant I should fucking use I will never be worth a kind thought, or a fucking chance revive by just being fucking genuine with me I will never be enough to live in your eyes I will never be enough to go to school in your eyes I will never be enough to look into shit further in your eyes

I will never be a DD thin petite little white girl of a Bella, Or that broad I seen in Toronto with the full body lingerie suit,

And I know they are just fucking your type.

And I bet you get them out of a mans way before he tortures them with 26 tools.

You probably wouldn't even bring me to a fucking hospital.

Just let me die there.

Steve Joyice and Avalanche boy of a Harmony Rd bullshit fucking disgusting pig riot shitshow, fuck you.

Every time you look at me Every time you speak to me Every time you were ever in my presence or speaking to me You said "You know you're so fat, I honestly think you should go ahead and be punished to death. Punished by death. Punished in death. I believe you are a fat worthless slob and a lazy entitled little cunt And it digusts us, to look at you. Please go be with Terri S where you belong.

Every time you look at me.

I can't believe I am the one.''''''

Cancer cum dumpster. Thats all you see when you looked at me. That is all you see when you look at me. That is all you believe when you look at me. You see me a cancer cum dumpster too. Shoulda fucked Orville before he died instead of fuckin me

Being shaken by the enemies. Plural.