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#nad’s fic
strawberryspence · 2 years
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OH MY GOOOOOOOOD !!! I LOVE TURMOIL !!!
Eddie calling Steve sweetheart is canon now by the way every fanfic writer uses it. They’re not even dating yet and it’s always, “Steve, sweetheart, please hand me the towel.” or “Sweetheart, did you eat?” or “You’re wrong, sweetheart, it’s this way.”
He only ever calls Steve, Stevie or sweetheart and at first, Steve thinks it’s a joke. Like big boy, you know? Steve’e never had anyone call him pet names, it’s always him calling girls baby or babe. But then it’s three months later, and his hands get clammy and his stomach gets butterflies when Eddie calls him Sweetheart, his voice dipping lower, giving his signature cheeky smile, his dimples dipping with the slope of his smile, brown eyes shining with a glint. Steve realizes he’s in love with Eddie fucking Munson and wants to be his sweetheart.
The longer it goes on, Steve feels more special. The implications of the pet name making his heart grow twice its size. He’s never been anyone’s sweetheart. Yeah, they’re not dating and maybe Eddie doesn’t like him the same way he likes him but Steve is sweetheart to Eddie, no one else and that’s good enough for Steve. Eddie does it so often that by now no one questions it (not even the kids, who was visibly confused the first time Eddie asks them, “Where’s sweetheart?” and even more confused to find out that he was looking for Steve.) and it’s just normal that Eddie calls Steve sweetheart.
Until the whole adult (Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, Argyle) squad goes to The Hide Out to watch Corroded Coffin perform. It’s packed with people, somehow Eddie’s murder allegations brings more people. It’s after the performance and they’re all drinking with Jeff, Gareth and Paul. They’re taking shots, playing drinking games, doing normal teenage stuff in bars.
Eddie’s openly gay with them now, he’s the first to do so in the group to ease Robin in (which makes Steve fall in love with him more). So yeah, it’s normal that after a performance a few boys (even girls) approach Eddie. Steve gets jealous, yes. But he doesn’t begrudge them for it, 1. They’re not dating and 2. Have you fucking seen Eddie? With all that liner, mesh crop top showing lines of scars and tight ass jeans that leaves nothing to the imagination. Don’t even get Steve started with the way his hair is tied up.
But then, one guy is openly flirting with Eddie and Eddie’s smiling and teasing back, and Steve’s heart is suddenly lodged at his throat. Eddie invites the guy to play with them, introducing him as James, and Steve ignores the side glances his friends give him as he excuses himself to get more shots.
They’re all playing having fun, everything was going fine until James takes a shot and it goes through the wrong pipe, he’s coughing loudly and harshly. Steve, because he’s Steve, gets a bottle of water for James, passing it to Eddie, who opens it for James. Everyone’s watching them.
When it finally settles down, “Oh god, that was painful.” James was laughing and Eddie’s laughing with him as he says, “Looks like it, sweetheart.”
It’s not even Steve who reacts first. Not Robin, Not Nancy. It’s Jonathan, he’s halfway through a drink and the glass just slips out his hands, hitting the ground and breaking into pieces as he gasps. Jonathan’s not even looking at the broken glass, just at Eddie. Eddie’s visibly confused, asking him if he’s okay.
When it fully loads to the whole group, Robin’s almost immediately up on her feet, fists first, she’s drunk, but not drunk enough to not think straight, but drunk enough to have the strength of an elephant. It takes Nancy and Argyle to hold her back. She’s screaming incoherent strings of curses. Eddie’s still confused, James looks downright scared.
Steve’s just sitting there. Open mouth, looking at the commotion as it sinks in. Maybe it was him, maybe it was all in his head, maybe he made it all up and maybe he wasn’t that special. Maybe sweetheart was just a name Eddie calls anyone, any guy and Steve was just another guy. Because why would anyone reserve the name sweetheart for Steve fucking Harrington? He's not that special.
He stands up, making Robin pause her rant as Steve holds out his hand to her, “You’re drunk. Let’s go home.” Robin stares at him, their own version of silent conversation before Steve adds, his voice wavering, “Please.” Robin nods, takes his hand, pulling him out of the place without questions.
Eddie’s left there, gobsmacked confused as to what just happened. James excuses himself, maybe because Jonathan’s glaring at the two of them like they’re Vecna.
“What happened?”
Jonathan’s glare intensifies. Nancy’s quietly judging him. Gareth's looking at him like he's the biggest idiot in town. Jeff and Paul are avoiding eye contact.
Argyle's the one who speaks first, "Brochacho, you just called James, sweetheart.”
“So?” Eddie asks. He’s actually confused to what the hell just happened.
“My dude, you only call our beautiful Steve, sweetheart. Sweetheart is Steve. Steve is Sweetheart. Only him. We’re just surprised you called another dude sweetheart. That’s why Buckley’s ready to fight you for Steve’s honor.”
Only then does Eddie realize what he’s done.
Fuck, he’s so screwed.
PART 2
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koobiie · 2 months
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fanart for what may be my favorite fic of all time, Running Behind by @asidian! here's prompto enjoying all the foods from the fic beacuse he deserves it <3
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moonshynecybin · 2 months
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Can't decide on a specific scene but i'll take anything you have to say about i'll meet judgement by the hounds bc at this point i have re-read it so many times ...
the thing about ill meet judgement by the hounds is that literally no concrete planning went into writing that thing. i was up against a deadline for a grad school assignment i was procrastinating like NOBODY'S BUSINESS had two panic attacks that week (unrelated to school!!) and then flew to bath with my roommate spur of the moment. posted that ch2 late at night zooted on my anxiety meds and and woke up to some LOVELY messages that i read on a bus when i was pulling away from the airport. insane experience. i didnt even want to give it a chapter two right away i was like IM BUSY. and then i wrote it immediately.
BUT to actually talk about the fic. like you asked <3. i actually had this idea that i wanted to follow marc's pov (at that point i had only written vale) and get inside his insane headspace leading up to his arm surgery and then be like. wouldnt it be crazy if vale was there and wanted to reconcile a bit but he was also kind of avoiding SAYING THAT. wouldnt that make marc feel EVEN CRAZIER. marc marquez saw trap simulator. inside you there are two wounds one is valentino rossi and the other is your fucked up arm. anddddd 2022 seemed like the ideal place for a rosquez reunion to me! like. dramaturgically. marc is on the brink. vale has just retired (easy to get a reason for him to have an epiphany regarding marc, made even easier bc marc pov means i never have to explain it in depth !)
and the thing about this fic is that it was supposed to be. A LOT longer. go race by race until his surgery and have them talk a lot more. change a little more gradually. but uh. ive already said my life was insane at that time and i got excited and fucking SENT that badboy. (again. i was lightly tranquilized.) which i think MOSTLY makes it better but the pacing is still little wacky. anyways i do think of the scene i cut where marc talks to alex all the time but i think i also fully deleted it! dont write fic under the influence! i also cut a BIG scene of them at the french GP where vale brings marc a sandwich and makes him eat it. it should also be noted that i was doing SO much journalism research about this period and i found a bunch of WILD quotes from marc that i compiled into a small insane vision board of them to ground my fic in his crazy way of conceptualizing his life. that i apparently also deleted while zen-ed out. so
more stupid behind the scenes under the cut
actual plot summary (my "outline") that i wrote out at the top of my google doc complete with typo:
Thinking about how absolutely distressing it would be for Marc pre surgery or right after if Vale tried to reconcile. Early 2022 before surgery decision and post Vale retirement
Scenes of Vale like. earnestl y talking to him. Marc represses a panic attack every time. race by race?
and here's what i had written for aragon, which is full of lines i just thought of with NO context or structure like this part would NOT take off the ground. you might notice some of them get repurposed later in the fic:
III. French GP, 2022. P6.
Marc’s still not out of the habit of reaching for him, apparently. He looks— God. Marc’s head hurts just looking at him. He could swear he has defenses from this, from how Marc can feel where he is in every room they’re in together. He guesses somewhere in the last few weeks he’s lost them, again. Just another thing he used to be good at.
despite everything, Marc can feel himself relax, with Vale here. The warm heat of him sharing space. He used to feel like this all the time. Vale to his left. His arm, casual and pain free, on his right. Now he's scarred all the way down both sides.
He remembers when he was a kid and he met Vale. How he had winked at Marc and said, I'll look out for you, cradling the toy car that Marc had brought specifically to give to him in his hands. How Marc had turned it over in his brain for years. I'll look out for you.
Marc bargains with himself
Marc does stupid, stupid things when Vale is in his life. He knows this. Going to the ranch is a bad idea. the press alone, if anyone finds out, would feed the paddock journos for years. It would be stupid— risky
Someone needs to tell him not to race. calm him down. Usually, it’s Álex. 
MORE OUTLINE: Vale brings him a sandwich and Marc wants to cry, terrible race. They watch a movie its very Valentino voice lemme take care of you !!! but no talking about their past lmao. maybe arm
Genuinely terrible race. That one stat about alwasy finishing top 5 or crashing. Vale like actually gets him to talk about his arm which gets no where fast (guest alex?) and riding misery begins to reach a tipping point
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rapidhighway · 6 months
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I'm not forgiving the sonic movie for knuckles never using sonic and tails' names why does he talk like that
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hoediaz · 2 years
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burn the straw house down buddie › time loop › angst :/ › ao3 for my beloved @gayeddiaz
“Why the fuck are you even in this loop? This day isn’t about you.” “Well, I die,” Eddie comments idly, not sounding as offended as he maybe should be. “Haven’t you heard? I’m always dying.” “That’s not funny.” Eddie shrugs, not really agreeing or disagreeing. It’s a few seconds before he says, eyes still closed, “Maybe I’m here so you’re not alone. - or, buck gets stuck in time, has a break down and then, relatedly, a break through
part one: burned, about to burn, still on fire [17k] part two: explode in slow motion [23k]
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janetbrown711 · 8 months
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That annoying feeling when history won't stop repeating itself 🙄💅
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pbaintthetb · 8 months
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Since you're currently rewatching House... "I wish you would write a fic where" the MDZS crew are in a modern day AU and NHS drags NMJ to House because of his strange qi deviation symptoms :) Bonus points if Wen Qing is one of House's interns!
oooh very interesting idea. So, I took a stab and have about 2.5k of random segments (not chronological sorry) I did find the voices kind of hard to get
s1-3 era i guess if only because it's the original duckinglins + wen qing. It's also slightly unclear whether cultivation exists in this and if so whether people know about it or not but eh
If i do more segments, becuase i had some in mind I will reblog this and add on to it but I make zero promises. Not sure how many of the things you wanted I hit but I had fun spitballing, even if the House and WQ voice is hard
***
“I didn’t realise they let war criminals work in hospitals these days,” Mingjue comments, it’s meant to sound idle, but to Huaisang it sounds icey. He expects it sounds pretty damn icey to Wen Qing too.
“Good thing I’m not a war criminal then,” Wen Qing refutes with a tight smile, moving her stethoscope to Da-ge’s back. Mingjue humphs, Huaisang digs into his thigh with his key through his trouser pocket and wishes he didn’t have to be so responsible.
Not because he wants Xichen or A-Yao to be doing this (not necessarily at least) just… Huaisang had moved heaven and earth to be here and frankly he’d rather not. They haven’t met Dr House either yet… though from what Nie Huaisang had read that might actually be a good thing.
He looks at his brother and Wen Qing again, her face is in deep concentration, and Mingjue’s is furrowed in an expression that means discomfort of some kind. What kind, Huaisang doesn’t know. For all he prides himself as a brother, he’s no expert in reading the microexpressions. 
And a lot has happened recently, a lot of things that could be causing discomfort in all kinds of ways.
Or maybe it’s even guilt for how he’s been acting. Huaisang wouldn’t know. His brother has been a growing stranger to him these past few months. And then last night…
Nie Huaisang looks at his brother in Wen Qing’s hands and thinks about maybe getting some air, maybe even going on a walk to the coma ward. But he can’t bear to leave his brother, and as he looks at Wen Qing, he feels- somewhat despondently- that she’s a lot stronger than he is.
But Nie Huaisang doesn’t want to be strong, Da-ge’s strong, Huaisang is persistent and weak. Which is why he’s dragged his brother here, despite all the complaining. He knows he’s only being humoured, and he knows why he’s being humoured.
But Huaisang will take a hundred burnt fans if it means a healthy Da-ge. Besides, a hundred burnt fans would still leave the nice one Jiang Cheng got him after they left that Gusu Summer camp a while back.
“How long have you been having these symptoms?” Wen Qing asks clinically, bringing Huaisang’s focus back into the room. He chides himself, what is the point of being here if he doesn’t pay the utmost attention?
***
“Don’t you wonder how your intern and Guangyao know each other?” the big guy demands. The way the big guy spits the name suggests some kind of history there. House is kind of interested, except he expects it’ll be pretty banal so, maybe not.
“I don’t know,” House drawls, twirling his cane, “She’s a renowned doctor, he’s an innovative music therapist, both working at hospitals in New Jersey- of course!” he gasps sarcastically, “Did they meet in a sex dungeon?” He tuts, shaking his head, “Naughty, naughty Qing. First Chase, now her- do you reckon she uses those needles for extra-curricular purposes?”
Just for good measure House throws in a leer. If he’s reading this guy right, wound up and uptight as he is, he’s about to lunge. Which means House can get him restrained. Which means House has a better chance of doing the tests he wants with the consent of the obviously confused, and obviously devoted little brother.
There’s a story there too… but House has no time for sob stories.
The big guy stares at him flatly.
“There’s no shame  in sex, that would be a stupid reason for me to be angry at them.”
Interesting.
“Whoa! Who said anything about being angry?” House asks all mock confused,  “I thought we were just discussing how they met?”
The patient gives him another side eye.
“You’re not half as slick as you think you are.” With that the guy settles back down in bed.
Which is just hurtful really. Also interesting. House doesn’t exactly think he’s trying to be slick, so it’s interesting that the patient thinks he is.
***
“Cuddy’s been hunting House all day to get him to do his clinic hours,” the blond doctor explains, probably to his colleagues, because they adopt matching expressions of complete comprehension.
“Oh really,” Da-ge hums, expression unimpressed, and he’s looking right at Huaisang. Huaisang gulps. “Sounds lik-”
Whatever it was that Da-ge was going to say shirking work sounded like (and Huaisang has really no idea!) is cut off by the sudden spew of blood from his mouth.
Sadly- and it really is, at this point Huaisang is kind of used to it so he’s not even-
He’s not even surprised.
He still screams and flinches though, crying and begging the doctors to do something.
And they do, running around, saying words just short of a yell that all sound very serious and complicated. So Nie Huaisang stops yelling,  because nobody needs his words too.
***
Mingjue doesn’t like Dr. House because the man is a dick. It does not mean, however, that he doesn’t respect him. Dr House is honest, at least. Unlike some people. Dr House is honest about having no real regard for Mingjue, no respect for order or regulations, a purely academic understanding of morality and being a curmudgeony arse.
Nie Mingjue isn’t overly fond of Wen Qing either, though that’s less to do with her skills and her honour. Mingjue has faith in those because he’s experienced them first hand. He just doesn’t like her.
Plenty of people have done things they didn’t really like very much in circumstances they’d infinitely prefer to not be in. But there’s always a choice but Wen Qing had made hers, and Mingjue- well. What happened happened in the way it did.
House, Dr House is staring at him rather intently. Mingjue lets him, he’s used to being stared at. He hit six-foot when he was fourteen, and he’s six-four now with the breadth to match. And he’s used to being stared at because ever since their father died all the questions have been directed at him. And he’d certainly been stared at under Men- Jin Guangyao’s dark stare in that room wit-
Mingjue cuts off that train of thought, feeling his head pound. The Doctor is still staring at him, leaning forward.
“Your brother thinks you’re crazy, you know? Cuckoo, loo-loo, the whole works.”
Mingjue doesn’t say anything, his hands fist in the sheets. He knows. He knows Xichen thinks so too and that’s why nobody ever listens to anything he says. They look at him and see his father twenty years too soon.
But Huaisang didn’t drag him here to have his head looked at. Huaisang’s happy to defer to Xichen and the rat about that. Mingjue knows that, he knows that. He’s here because Huaisang sees their father twenty-years too soon and there’s been a countdown going off in his didi’s head since the first time he found the bloody tissues Mingjue had stuffed in the bin in an ill-thought out plan of hiding them.
Honestly though, how was he to suspect Huaisang would be looking in the rubbish, the little brat never did any tidying and now Mingjue is here when it’s all-
“Huh,” Dr House says thoughtfully, “You do know. Maybe you’re not crazy then, crazy’s not usually so self-aware.”
Mingjue’s not so sure. Their father had been self-aware enough between all the moments where he wasn’t to be horrified. Not that that horror had done much, locked into an endless battle with their father’s pride. He’s not sure how to word all of this to Dr House, and he’s not even sure if he wants to. So he doesn’t.
Mingjue’s here because Huaisang wants him to be here and Mingjue wants Huaisang to be safe. Mingjue’s proud, but not so proud as their father. If he lashes out here there’s a syringe of haldol waiting for him and orderlies to hold Huaisang back.
Mingjue would prefer not to be here, but if Huaisang won’t let him alone (and Mingjue knows his didi can’t) then this is the best place to be.
“Ignoring me won’t make me go away, you know,” the irritating doctor singsongs. It tempts Mingjue to try, even though he’s had years of a little brother and is very well acquainted with this fact.
***
“San-ge and Er-ge would never hurt Da-ge,” Huaisang objects, voice going high with his wail. They swore a brotherhood! Sure, things aren’t so good right now, but things aren’t always so good with Huaisang and Mingjue and neither would hurt the other.
The stupid Dr House just cocks his head. Wen Qing is standing a little behind him, face carefully blank.
“Very convincing. You convinced enough to stake your brother’s life on that?”
“I-” Huaisang starts, stops. Heart trembles. It feels like a betrayal. Saying no. Saying yes.
He looks at Wen Qing and thinks about the coma ward, three floors down, 2 corridors across.
“I wouldn’t stake my brother’s life on anything,” he refutes. Concession, admission, permission, whatever.
***
“I don’t know,” Foreman responds, “My brother and I? We were never like that.”
Chase is sprawled out in a chair, Cameron is the same but she’s doing a much better job of making it look elegant. Foreman is leaning forward with his elbows on the table, hands clasped.
And Wen Qing is standing there, like it’s her first day again, an outsider.
It’s this case, she knows the patient and she doesn’t know him and she- Well she doesn’t know much about Huaisang. But A-Ning had said enough things before that she’s just…
But as much as she doesn’t really know either of the brothers, she does know this.
“Both their mothers died in childbirth, and their father’s been dead for over a decade,” Wen Qing interjects, walking over to the coffee pot so she doesn’t have to look at them. She thought she’d buried this when she’d moved here. Except for A-Ning; she could never bury him, Wen Qing refuses. 
“They’ve only got each other.” The pot’s empty and she scowls in disgust. “Siblings like that- they either can’t stand each other or they’d do anything for each other.” Maybe both. She doesn’t think of a certain little brother of her own, because she’s on the job right now and even as she’s always thinking of him she can’t.
“They’re half brothers?” Cameron asks, and Wen Qing won’t take this accusation.
“Yeah it’s in their history, I-”
“No- no,” Cameron waves her off, “It’s just- Huaisang seems so convinced as much as it’s like their father’s illness, it’s different- and Huaisang seems utterly unaffected. What if it’s something Mingjue got from his mother?”
“What, like a completely different condition that just mimics the one his father had?” Foreman snorts, kicking out his legs, “That’s likely.”
“Or maybe…” Chase starts like he’s had a thought, “It’s some kind of [interaction]. He got his father’s illness, and he’s got something from his mother that’s making it act like this.”
They all consider that for a moment.
“We need to tell House.” Wen Qing’s already walking out of the room.
***
“The mental symptoms!” House yells, “The guy’s got fucking PTSD- and nobody noticed, not even his supposedly so devoted brother.”
“But-”
“Oh jeez, if only there was a reason that the mental symptoms were so much more aggressive and and in flux than what they reported of his father- if only there were a doctor on my team who knew the patient, but-”
Wen Qing burns, she burns so hard she can’t even hear the insult to her character House is no doubt lumping out. She can’t talk about this, she can’t.
Meng Yao’s, or whatever he’s calling himself these days, has good fucking lawyers, and enough skills to have kept himself alive under her Uncle’s watchful eye for a year. Wen Qing had signed, and signed, and A-Ning’s upstairs and Meng Yao’s somewhere else and-
Mingjue is worth nothing compared to A-Ning, do no harm be damned. And not even Huaisang’s fury is enough of a motivation. She understand that fury, she understands it well, it burns inside her everyday her brother doesn’t wake up.
“I said,” Wen Qing hisses, aware of the stares of her fellow interns on her, and the genuine angry glare of House, “That I suspected he’d been through trauma recently- as did his brother!”
House does not look calmed in the slightest, he takes a step toward her.
“Well maybe next time use the word ‘torture’. It’s got a certain buzz that really makes it shine out as an alarm bell.”
Her ears ring, and ring. She can’t say anything, and if anyone else is speaking, she can’t hear it.
***
Wilson doesn’t know how he always ends up in House’s conference room dragged into a case that clearly isn’t cancer and therefore doesn’t need an Oncologist to consult. But, well, House is House (demanding bastard) and Wilson is Wilson (needy bitch) so maybe he does know.
The children as House would term them are all throwing out theories and Wilson is following along well enough to understand, but nothing’s sounding like cancer and House never hired Wilson so he’s not really giving out any theories.
That’s when the man walks in. Anybody unknown walking into Houses’ office can go a few ways, so Wilson preemptively prepares for something to be thrown. Except the guy’s just looking at Wilson.
“You have another doctor in your team?” the man asks House uncertainly, but he’s still looking obsessively at Wilson. It’s kind of weird.
“No, no, I’m just here as a consult,” Wilson explains politely, “Dr James Wilson.” He extends a hand.
The man- who’s kind of more of a kid takes it nervously, still staring at him.
“You’re an oncologist,” the unknown guy, who is probably related to House’s current patient in some way, states. Brother? 
“Yeah I am,” Wilson chuckles awkwardly, mentally kicking himself. “How did you know that?” Because if he knew the patient knew he was an oncologist, he wouldn’t have said. Nobody likes hearing you’re an oncologist, unless you’re saying you’ll never see them again. And even then, sometimes they don’t like it.
“It’s on your door,” the brother of the patient says, still sounding uncertain. “Does this mean you think my brother has… uh- I mean, whatever it is that oncologists treat?” his voice has gone up at the end.
Mentally, Wilson is raising a brow, externally he is not. He is a professional and actually knows what the term ‘bedside manner’ means, unlike some people in this room.
House doesn’t raise a brow either, but that’s because House doesn’t believe in restricting yourself to non-verbal symbols of rude disbelief when words can be twice as insulting.
“Whatever oncologists treat,” House drawls mock sympathetic, the patient’s brother twitches with what could be embarrassment. “No, we don’t. Dr Wilson is just here to stare at Cameron’s ass. Or maybe Chase’s- who can tell them apart from behind?!” 
Wilson looks to the ceiling for salvation while House guffaws and Chase and Cameron scowl.
The guy is still looking at Wilson, and taking pity, Wilson divulges.
“No, we don’t think he has cancer.”
The guy nods, not as if this is good news, but rather as if this is news he’s always known.
***
“Brother shops around for the best diagnostician he can find, but doesn’t even know what an oncologist is?” House shakes his head and helps himself to some of Wilson’s fries. Wilson offers a put-upon expression in return, but he hasn’t touched his drink so he’s probably not actually put upon. Besides, Wilson knows House is going to eat his food, if he wants it to stop happening he should stop buying it.
“So?” Wilson asks, playing his role of audience participation in their private one-man show as always. “I didn’t realise that your webpage had the definition of oncology on it- right underneath your name I suppose?.”
House shoots him a look for the snark. And the blatant missing of the obvious point.
“The first thing anybody does, when they google symptoms is find cancer,” House explains, Wilson nods, so maybe he gets it too now. Gets how weird it is- and House doesn’t like things that don’t make sense.
“Ok,” Wilson is still nodding and House takes some more fries while he’s distracted, “But isn’t he here because he thinks his brother has what their dad had? Which wasn’t cancer? So he doesn’t think it’s cancer, so doesn’t need an oncologist. He’s deadset on it being this one thing so he’s not looking at anything else.”
House shakes his head, he doesn’t know what it is or why it’s bothering him but it is.
“He’s here because he thinks it’s not operating like what their dad had, which is when worried younger siblings start running down the cancer route and looking for the best Oncologist they can find-” he shoots Wilson a significant look “-but he skips that altogether and brings his brother here- his sick brother who’s been sick for a while but only just agreed to come.”
It’s interesting, it’s a puzzle. House likes puzzles and he’d rather puzzle out what’s affecting the older brother right now, but a man can always multitask.
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brittlebutch · 1 year
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Everyone else in their story has a reason; a message, a purpose, an arc - anything at all - but not Evan. They are just there, existing, watching, lingering, but for what? What is the point of it all? There never seems to be one, and the injustice makes Evan want to peel skin off of muscle. He wants to bite them, wants to sink his teeth into the meat of their wings until their blood feathers break under the pressure and burn hot down his throat.
I'll eat you up, I love you so, something whispers to him, and Evan grinds his teeth and can't quite bring himself to put together an argument against it.
---
Walking the path to acceptance has never been easy. At least Evan has experience navigating empty roads.
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melodygatesauthor · 11 months
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part two to not a doctor you fucking whore
Hehehehe
I will I will I promise.
Not a Doctor
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nomsfaultau · 6 months
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SBI Whumptober prompt 19) Kidnapping! Uh. Again. Okay look I got hit by inspiration for an absolutely creepy fae lens on baby Fault Tubbo. What does that have to do with sbi? Uh. Uhhhh. FanTASTic question!
Anyway, if you want to read about baby Tubbo acting like a possessed horror movie monster while an oblivious 5 year old befriends them, check out this fun chapter.
Yes this is related to the earlier post of the missing children's milk carton photo. Stop asking questions its past my bed time (10:05pm I am suffering wasting away perishing)
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hawthornsword · 1 year
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Three sentence fic for a missing scene in Bad Batch 2x3:
Cody knew he didn't have long before a mission report that detailed his insubordination landed on Vice Admiral Rampart's desk. He knew what had happened to Howzer on Ryloth, and he hadn't heard from Wilco since Rampart returned from Serenno - men just trying to do their jobs right. Cody saw now that he couldn't help anyone by staying here any longer, and it was a simple enough thing to commandeer a ship when you were the Marshall Commander.
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terrainofheartfelt · 1 year
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Actually, now I’m very curious about the other four interns - the Princeton, Yale, Penn, and Parsons “Blair Waldorfs”. Were they similarly hyper-competitive and insane, or were they normal people thrown in the middle of Dan and Blair’s antics? I wish Dan had stayed at W longer, because I honestly feel like the office shenanigans there could have been really fun to watch.
Yes!!!! I want to know more!!! I will forever and always want more W content.
I think it would actually be really fun to have Blair reckon with other "Blair Waldorfs" I mean, I get that that line was a throwaway by Epperly who hasn't really gotten to know Blair as a person yet, but getting an internship at a major publication has to be hella competitive, and these interns had to have been formidable to get a spot. (and let us not forget, by basic syllogism, this makes Dan the "Blair Waldorf" of NYU lmaooooo)
The thing is, Blair is never really made to grapple with her gifted kid syndrome in any meaningful way. She treated NYU as academic purgatory (even though it's like...not.) and then at Columbia she just recruited more minions? as if being an Ivy undergrad leaves you room for extracurriculars like doing some nepotism baby's errands.
they did this with blair's posse at constance too. like Isabel & Kati & Penelope & Nelly canonically were all distinguished students and accomplished in other things, all the ingredients for well-roundedness were right there and then they just...did nothing with them.
this is just to say, it would have been a FASCINATING development of Blair's pursuit of "powerful womanhood" to be competing with young women with the same goals and advantages and skills as she, and how that could teach her to give herself and other people a little more grace. And Dan leading that challenge as her continued top competition at W (because he should have worked there longer than an episode)? delicious. gimme.
also you said "office shenanigans" so now the image in my head is dan being the jim halpert to blair's dwight schrute at w and them antagonizing each other until they fuck.
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me n the boys r out here balling 😤 🏀💵 😎 (editing fics we were feeling frustrated with but now think might be good enough to publish)
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the desire to write only the Fun scenes and simply put “they get from point A to point B” everywhere else is strong
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kexing · 1 year
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Re: the last sentence you wrote in your WIP.
That's a beautifully written sentence. Now i want to read that fic. Hopefully it doesn't require 36 episodes of backstory but still!
NOT YOU THROWING SHADE AT WORD OF HONOR, NADS ALDKSKKDSKKDSKKSKKDKSKDKSKD
unfortunately yes, it is about wenzhou so 💔
but i’m glad you liked it!! thank you akdkskkdk 🥰
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wabblebees · 1 year
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