#Complex Heart Surgery

[drpavankumarblog]

Understanding the Role of a Heart Surgeon in Cardiac Care

With regards to heart wellbeing, the mastery of a Heart Surgeon is significant. These specific clinical experts are prepared to carry out complex procedures that can save lives and work on the personal satisfaction for patients experiencing different heart conditions. Among the most basic methods they perform is Heart Bypass Surgery.

What is Heart Bypass Surgery?

Heart Bypass Surgery, frequently alluded to as Coronary Corridor Sidestep Uniting (CABG), is a system pointed toward further developing blood stream to the heart. During this medical procedure, a specialist takes a sound vein from one more piece of the body and uses it to sidestep an impeded coronary corridor. This reestablishes sufficient blood supply to the heart muscle, diminishing side effects, for example, chest agony and windedness.

The Significance of a Heart Bypass Surgery Specialist

Finding a Heart Bypass Surgery Specialist is urgent for anybody confronting the possibility of this medical procedure. These experts have broad information and involvement with performing sidestep techniques and overseeing pre-and post-employable consideration. They assess the patient's general wellbeing, think about the seriousness of the coronary illness, and foster a customized careful arrangement to guarantee the most ideal result.

A Consultant Cardiac Surgeon assumes a vital part in this cycle. They carry out the procedure as well as supervise the whole treatment venture, teaming up with other medical services experts to give complete consideration. This incorporates analytic testing, medical procedure, and follow-up care to screen recuperation and forestall entanglements.

When Would it be a good idea for you to Counsel a Heart Surgeon?

In the event that you are encountering side effects, for example, tireless chest agony, exhaustion, or windedness, counseling a medical services professional is fundamental. They might allude to a Heart Surgeon for additional assessment. Early mediation can fundamentally influence the progress of Heart Bypass Surgery and by and large heart wellbeing.

Conclusion

The job of a Heart Surgeon is essential in overseeing cardiovascular wellbeing and performing life-saving methods like Heart Bypass Surgery. Picking a certified Heart Bypass Surgery Subject matter expert or Specialist Cardiovascular Specialist is pivotal to guarantee viable therapy and an effective recuperation. Assuming you or somebody you know is confronting heart medical problems, make it a point to master guidance and care.

By understanding the basic capabilities these experts serve, patients can come to informed conclusions about their heart wellbeing and explore their treatment choices successfully.

[purplefiction-ao3]

I am still here and still going to get back to writing the fic.

I’m only about 3 weeks out from my most recent surgeries so I’m still healing. I’m still on some painkillers and some meds for the severe anxiety attacks, so those combined with my seizure meds is keeping me pretty lethargic and fatigued which keeps me mostly bedbound and sleeping. Hopefully my stamina will begin to come back over the coming weeks.

I can’t wait to share with you guys the next installment of Remus’ story. 💜 Thank you all, for all of your patience while I give my body the time it needs to heal and rest.

[into-wonderland-caroline]

03/12/24

Captain is taking a morning nap in what looks like some kind of very uncomfortable contortion pose...

[thru-the-looking-glass-caroline]

You don't believe it can happen to you - I didn't either...

...Health problems I have to live with caused by the 8 years I struggled with anorexia and orthorexia[and never believed I was "sick enough" for it to happen to me].

I want to preface this post by saying 2 things; First, this post will talk some about eating disorders, although nothing detailed and I will not ever post numbers or anything more obviously upsetting, I do still want to give that warning so if this topic might upset or cause problems for you, do what is good for you and don't continue reading this. Second, I am not a medical or mental health professional. I have no degrees of any kind so this post, like all my others, is purely my experiences, opinions and what I have learned from my doctors over the years. You've been warned now on to the real content/topic...

The past few weeks there has been these nagging thoughts and feelings of some regrets and anger and sadness about how much of my physical health alone eating disorders took from me. I can't go back to change anything but it is something that makes me angry how deceived and distorted someone who is in the depths of an eating disorder can be. For a little back story I struggled with Orthorexia and anorexia for 8 years. The behaviors & obsessions began when I was only 7 years old and I was diagnosed with Orthorexia at age 8 and given a second diagnosis of anorexia at age 10. I stayed in these disorders until I was 15 & only then did I actively pursue and work for recovery. I'm happy to say I have maintained that recovery and a healthy weight since, however, a lot of damage was already done to my body by the time I was 15 and unfortunately much of it was not reversed so I live with many physical health problems caused by anorexia and Orthorexia.

Like many who struggle with eating disorders I was, at different points, told about and warned of the damage it could do to my body, the possible long term consequences of continuing in my disorders. Also like many who struggle with eating disorders I shrugged off these warnings and facts. In my mind none of it would happen to me because I never saw myself as a "sick enough " orthorexic and anorexic to warrant such complications. Now, were there and are there people struggling with eating disorders whose cases would be called more severe and critical than me - yes of course and that is kind of the point- this idea people who struggle with eating disorders have that they have to be the sickest, skinniest, closest to death's door anorexic or orthorexic or whatever to have long term health problems from it or to deserve help or die from their disease is a complete garbage dumpster fire of lies and bullshit! It's not a competition and comparison will destroy! With an eating disorder it will never be enough until it kills you...you will not win anything ‐ or be smiled on, applauded, or envied for dying so thin. No one who knew you will remember you after your death and speak fondly, joyfully or boast about how sick and thin you were. It will not be a positive, admirable, inspiring, happy legacy you will leave if you die sick because of an eating disorder. Your loved ones will suffer, they will be angry about your sickness, angry that you couldn't believe you were sick enough/warranted help. They will be sad and grief stricken and wonder what they could have done differently. They will blame themselves. It's harsh, morbid and very depressing but it is the truth of the legacy you will leave if your eating disorder kills you because you weren't thin enough, sick enough, and you didn't believe any of it could happen to you. You won't die happy and fulfilled because you are thin and sick, you will die depressed, scared, anxious, tortured, and weak just as you were in the eating disorder that deceived you pushing you to hold on to and continue your behaviors, always promising you will be happy when but continually moving that goal- keeping it out of reach because it's never enough with an eating disorder. It's a lie!

Talking to my doctors, I have learned that a good portion of my heart problems were caused by/at least partially caused by years of starvation, malnutrition and stress from my eating disorders. These heart issues include: my heart murmur, mitral valve prolapse and mitral valve regurgitation(which I had to have heart surgery for last year), bradycardia, and thin heart walls! This accounts for every heart health problem I have besides one...it makes me cringe with regret, anger and sadness just to know that.

Anorexia and Orthorexia also caused the irreversible damage and basically shut down of my reproductive system meaning I am sterile/infertile...can not have children. Because I began struggling with eating disorders so young, becoming sick and emaciated/malnourished so quickly and basically remaining in that state or in a declining state for 8 years I have not ever had a period or menstrual cycle and I will not ever due to the damage to my reproductive system. This also caused problems with my bone density and I have osteopenia (basically the beginning stage of osteoporosis) and eventually that will progress into full osteoporosis. I also have permanent damage to my liver caused by my eating disorders.

I hate that I caused so much of my own health struggles and problems and as a result cause my family worry for my health, my well being, and my future. Not to mention the experiences, relationships, strength, health, life, personality, adventure, discovery, zeal, joy, love, rest, dreams the eating disorders took from me and I can't go back and have them.

I am a dancer. Dance is my biggest passion in life and some day I won't be able to dance anymore because the permanent damage and health problems from my eating disorders will end it. My bones will be too brittle and weak to leap and turn and hold a pose, have correct technique. My heart could get weaker- more stressed in time and I will have dance taken from me. I won't be able to follow that dream, to perform. The consequences of eating disorders reach my entire life and that is and/or can be the reality for anyone with an eating disorder who doesn't believe it will happen to them - who doesn't see themselves as sick enough. I did not see it or believe it either and yet this is my reality.

[swirlsncurlsnmanyturns]

thought back to season 4′s house’s head/wilson’s heart and I have A Question. yk how the whole catalyst of the episode was the fact that house had taken the bus because he was so drunk and couldn’t drive his cool biker boy motorcycle? yk how house always goes drinking with wilson whenever he has a crazy reason to celebrate or just another reason to be miserable? he always drinks with wilson. why did he, on this particular day, get SOOOO wasted without even telling wilson??? and then the rest follows of how he wants wilson to pick him up but then amber does instead and the rest is history (</3). but like, i’m so boggled as to why he was extra miserable and drinking alone that day.

[connorsui]

In Your Arms

Zayne x reader

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, boyfriend zayne wanting peace and you give it, manz wanna make u a wife, no warnings we don't die around here...

Synopsis: Zayne finds solace in the warmth of your presence amidst the chaos of his demanding career, and silently, he cherishes every moment, hoping one day to make your bond official

Note: I wanted doctor zayne to cure my heart ....so I made doctor zayne want to make me a wife ...

w.c: 1,070

Zayne’s footsteps echoed softly in the sterile, dimly lit hospital corridor, his mind still entangled in the complexities of the latest surgery he’d performed. His shoulders were tense, a slight frown creasing his usually composed expression as he made his way out of the building. It had been another long day, filled with the kind of high-stakes decisions that most people couldn’t fathom. But as soon as he saw you waiting for him by the entrance, your face lighting up at the sight of him, something in him softened.

The sight of you there, with your soft smile and eyes that sparkled just for him, made the world tilt back into place. The weight of the day fell away, and for a moment, he allowed himself to simply bask in the warmth of your presence. He didn’t need to say anything; the way his eyes lingered on you, tracing the curve of your lips and the gentle slope of your shoulders, spoke volumes.

“Hi, Love! ” you greeted him, your voice a gentle balm to his frayed nerves.

“Hello, Sweetheart” he replied, his tone low and warm, the single word carrying a weight of unspoken affection. His hands itched to reach out, to pull you into his arms right there in front of everyone, but Zayne had always been careful with his emotions, especially in public. Instead, he settled for a small, almost imperceptible smile that you had come to recognize as his version of a bear hug.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the soft rustle of your clothing the only sound in the quiet night air. It wasn’t until you were inside his car, the doors closed, and the world shut out, that he allowed himself the luxury of touch. His hand reached out, fingers lightly grazing yours before he intertwined them, the simple gesture grounding him in a way nothing else could.

“I would like to first apologize to you ���” he murmured after a few minutes, his voice laced with the kind of guilt that came from too many late nights and missed dinners.

Surprised; you questioned. “What for exactly?”

“I just know I haven’t been around much.”

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, offering him a soft, understanding smile. “Zayne, It's alright… I know you’re doing everything you can…But…let's focus on the now.. is there anything I can do to make your night better?”

He turned his head to look at you, his gaze searching your face for any sign of fatigue or frustration. Instead, he found only warmth and concern, your eyes silently urging him to let you take care of him for once. The tension in his chest eased a fraction, and he released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Just being with you makes everything better,” he admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the day. “I don’t need anything else… just you.”

The ride to his apartment was filled with quiet conversation, the kind that flowed easily between two people who were entirely comfortable with each other. When you arrived, Zayne wasted no time pulling you close as soon as the door clicked shut behind you. His arms wrapped around you, his head resting on your chest as he exhaled deeply, finally allowing himself to relax.

“You’re so tense,” you murmured, your fingers instinctively threading through his hair, the familiar motion soothing both of you. “Why don’t you let me run you a bath? Or make you some tea?”

He tightened his hold on you, shaking his head slightly as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “No, just… this is what I need. You’re what I need.”

The way he clung to you, as if letting go would mean losing the one thing keeping him grounded, made your heart ache with a mix of love and concern. He was always so strong, so capable, but even Zayne had his limits, and you could see that he’d reached them tonight.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” you suggested softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “You deserve to rest.”

He nodded against you, and you led him to his bedroom, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm light over the room. Zayne moved with a quiet grace, his every action deliberate as he turned to face you, his hands settling on your waist.

“I’m sorry I’m not more… put together tonight,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with exhaustion as he leaned in to rest his forehead against yours.

“You don’t have to be anything other than yourself with me,” you whispered back, your hands coming up to cup his face. “I love you just as you are, Zayne.”

His breath hitched slightly at your words, and he pressed his lips to yours in a slow, lingering kiss that made your heart swell with emotion. There was no rush, no urgency—just the deep, abiding love that had grown between you over time, steady and unshakable.

When he pulled back, his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his eyes meeting yours in silent question. You nodded, and he carefully lifted your shirt over your head, his hands warm against your skin as he undressed you with the same precision he used in surgery.

Once you were both stripped down; Zayne pulled you into bed, his arms wrapping around you as he settled you against his chest. His heartbeat was steady, a comforting rhythm beneath your ear as you laid together in the quiet.

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, his lips brushing the top of your head.

“It’s perfect,” you whispered back, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

Zayne smiled against your hair, his hold on you tightening slightly as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. In that moment, with you wrapped up in his arms, he felt complete, as if all the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. “ — to be here with you… it’s all I need.”

You nestled closer, your heart swelling with love for the man who had given so much of himself to others, yet asked for so little in return. “I’m here, Zayne. I’m always here.”

As you drifted off to sleep, Zayne couldn’t help but think about how much he wanted this—wanted you—every day for the rest of his life. And one day, he would make that dream a reality. But for now, he was content to hold you close, savoring the warmth of your body against his as he followed you into sleep.

Doctor zayne with a need for you is the only man I will ever need

[genderqueerdykes]

absolutely off the rails behavior when cis lesbians become enraged when you tell them that it's butchphobic to exclude butches who are transfemme, trans women, transmasc, men, take testosterone, have penises, and/or get top/bottom surgery from the butch and lesbian community. like the fact that we have historically always belonged to the lesbian community has been coming from the mouths of gnc and transfemme & transmasc butches for decades but everyone plugs their ears and doesn't listen.

the lesbian community has such a long and rich history of being a safe place for transfemme, trans women, transmasc, masc, intersex, genderqueer, non binary, and male presenting people who take testosterone and get top and bottom surgeries. before the rise of lesbian separatism and political lesbianism, transmascs & transfemme butches in lesbian spaces were not an issue. also in the past there just wasn't anywhere else for us to go. we were shoved into lesbian spaces by force, but also wanted to stay there because it's a community that's dear to our hearts and still means a lot to us

lesbians were the ones who made it safe for us to be there in the first place.

it's unfathomable to see people who say you should respect butches when it comes to their pronouns, identity, etc., to not invalidate their genders, to not assume anything about what gender they identify with- but the second they find out that some butches who are transfemme, trans women, or take T and still identify as lesbians and dykes they police our identities and bodies and insinuate that we can't be real butch lesbians for x, y and z reasons.

it's just insidious to exclude transfem butches and butch trans women on so many levels. i see this constantly and it's never called out as a form of butchphobia as well as a form of transmisogyny, especially when that person does not want to get bottom surgery. to call any MtF butch a man that's invading the lesbian community is to admit that one knows nothing about the complex gender identities and struggles transfemme butches and butch trans women face. to identify this way is one of the most prolific and powerful expressions of butchness, and what it means to be a butch lesbian. to deny these people the right to call themselves butch is inherently, inarguably butch and lesbophobic as well as trans/misogynistic.

to chase any of these people out of butch, lesbian, dyke and sapphic spaces is inherently butchphobia. yes, butchphobia affects perisex cis butch women, but it also affects so many more people. it affects transmascs and men. it affects genderqueer and non binary people. it affects bigender men. it affects transfemme lesbians and trans lesbian women. it affects trans girls and mtf lesbians in general. it affects intersex people. it affects lesboys. it affects boy/guydykes. it affects queer people of color. it affects studs.

it affects dykes, lesbians, and sapphics in general. this is a form of lesbophobia, trans/androphobia, intersexism, and especially butchphobia, no matter what. we have to accept ALL butches who don't fit into a neat little box of what a masculine queer person should be like.

[catboybiologist]

Hey it's a life update that probably no one cared about or asked for

tl;dr: I'm likely quitting my PhD via mastering out, and leaving my program in June.

sappy, overly emotional vent/explanation:

I'm wrapping up my first quarter as an out-of-the-closet trans woman. I've had some serious conversations about where me and my work stand. This was always my intention after coming back from my summer hiatus/social transition: see how "reentry" works, and then assess from there.

For those that don't know, PhDs in the US take 5-7 years. Oftentimes, however, they either give you a master's along the way, or give you an option to quit halfway through with a master's. I'm in my 3rd year and have more than enough to use that option. I've toyed with this idea before, but it feels a bit different now. Last year, I was burned out from science, my project was failing, and I was under constant stress of boymoding and remaining in the closet. Now, I'm out and proud, and I deeply love my project and find it exciting. I fixed some things.

Unfortunately, I have a recurrent problem. Whenever something goes wrong in my life, the first thing to drop off is my ability to drive forward my own thesis project in a coherent way. What the actual problems are vary, but that motif stays the same. I could list off what's going on right now, but I think y'all can assume a bit of what a mid-20s, broke, recently transitioned trans woman in the US is going through at the moment. There's a lot of specifics, of course, but I'm not at liberty to say most of it.

So I'm looking around and realizing I have scraps of half finished projects, I've given support and help for other people's projects.... and then made little progress on my actual thesis. It's enough to pull together into a master's thesis, and maybe even another paper or two, but.... not a PhD.

And then there's the other side of it. The nicer reasons. Could I stay here, buckle down, maybe add years to my degree, and get through it? Probably. But honestly? I don't really want to put myself through that now. It used to be that academics was all I had. It was all my failures and all my successes. It's what I threw myself at, because I genuinely had nothing else going on. Since transitioning, the world seems so much more beautiful and rich, so much more complex and vast, with so much more to do in it. I've even had more negative experiences unrelated to academia, and while they've sucked, they've shown me that life is so much bigger than it was before.

To be blunt, to experience more of my life... it helps to have money, and it helps to have career stability. It's not the only factor by far, but certainly one defining moment when making this decision was trying to create a timeline and budget for transition related surgeries, and realizing that its near impossible in grad school.

Not to be dramatic, but I've also had a couple extremely jarring experiences in the past year that are reminded me that life is short. And I want at least some time to enjoy it.

My heart is honestly broken here, and I'm feeling extremely emotional about this. I love my lab, my colleagues, the environment of doing research, and my project. But I'm realizing that it might not be viable, or what makes me the happiest at the moment. I'm genuinely a bit distraught, and I've been crying a lot for the past few days. A lot of me feels like this is what I am, and this is what I'm good for. That I'm failing myself and every mentor that got me here. Some part of me knows that isn't true, some part of me can't let go of those feelings.

But, I know this doesn't mean "never". So many of the people in my program are significantly older than me, coming back later in life to get their degrees. I'm honestly almost positive that I'll come back to a PhD someday if I quit now. In my 30s or beyond, I think that I'll be able equipped to handle it much better.

So what's next?

Obviously, nothing is decided, and I'm just spitballing here. But I'm honestly shocked at how many viable options I have, in a very good way. A cursory scroll of Indeed was honestly therapeutic. As I said, I still love the academic research environment. I just need more money and stability, and would prefer to have a slightly different relationship to the work I do than a thesis project. Ideally, I would want to be a staff researcher in an institute or academic lab. That lets me keep a lot of the things I like about what I do now, while also making literally 2-3 times the money and having a more stable position.There's positions out there that maximize the contexts I'm the strongest and happiest with, while still being more steady and paying more. Hell, even if my responsibilities were identical, but I had more pay, I could probably more effectively address the personal problems I'm going through right now. I'm gonna stay in California for a lot of reasons, and I'm lucky that there's so many options within the state.

I have a bit of an oddball set of experience. I'll actually have two nonoverlapping master's if I do this. I already have a MS in bioinformatics, which was granted by a CS department. But my current program is in more "pure" molecular and cell biology. I'll have 5 years of grad school, 8.5 years of research experience if I include undergrad research, and instead of a PhD, 2 MSs. Which is kinda funny. But it think it helps represent my experience for what it is. I like to consider myself a "full stack" bioinformaticist- someone who can do both the experimental and analysis portions of experiments that produce large data. Hopefully I'll be able to put that to good use.

I have a lot of professional contacts that I'll slowly be reaching out to over the course of the next 6 months while I tie things up. I know this is a wildshot on tumblr of all places, but if anyone has any recommendations, advice, or contacts, I'm all ears- both for professional and job hunt related things, and also the emotional state I'm in right now.

Thank you to everyone that's made up this wonderful community we have online. I hope I'm not letting anyone down. I'll still be a biologist, I'll still be my trans self. I just won't be "Doctor" anytime soon.

[bethanysnow]

How I think Stray Kids Members would date a Plus Size girlfriend ~ Hyungline

Maknae line

-Bang Chan

This man deadlifts 350lb....do you think it's only for our benefit????? NAH this boy got an actually plus size gal in his minds eye. Large arms, soft shoulders, STOMACH, back???, calves???!?!?!?! Why does no one talk about calves!?! Where this man can man handle and grab and pull to his hearts delight and not break her. Lord knows one spank from him would probably break someone's pelvis if it didn't have padding.... Now I do think he would need to work on himself internally on some of his "complexes" and self image and self confidence?? I love this man to death, but you'd be reassuring him just as much as he is you. He went from the body checking capital of the world to the plastic surgery capital of the world at a formative age; it fucks with your head.

But he would love you, becoming friends would be faster than blinking, but I get the vibe it takes a while to fully trust? He trusts too easily and has been hurt by it in the past so he needs to know that you're gonna he there for him as he is you. He would 100% be the bf to make sure that there are clothes you can wear in his closet but not say anything. He's conscious of how he has insecurities and understands that it takes more than kissing it better and a love making session. It takes work. And he'd be there to remind you every step of the way how much he loves you.

-Minho

This quiet man might surprise you. Now I don't think he'd be the first to come to mind when possibility dating a plus size gf, but this man is a intelligent one. He is introspective, quiet, understanding. He is one of those people in life that either body size wouldn't even cross his mind when dating you, or he would be very conscious of it. Not in a bad way of course.

He is just very concerned about you in how people treat you because of your size, not liking that he gets treated so special cuz he happened to end up being traditionally handsome. Where he sees the mistreatment you deal with and feels protective over you. So he plans ahead, makes sure the restaurant has chairs without arms, would rather people look at him and how OH LOOK ITS LEEKNOW than make you uncomfortable that you think people are staring.

If diets and conversation around diets make you uncomfortable I can see him changing the topic even around the members if you're there. He wants you to be happy and comfortable around him. While he isn't very affectionate or loud about his love its just as deep.

Also.....you got the best ass even if its flat

-Changbin

I think for someone who goes to the gym as much as he does he would understand if someone was having bad experiences tied to it? Like he is paid to work out and have a nutritionist and a stylist and all these team members. Not everyone has that. So he wouldn't pressure you into going with him unless you wanted to go. If you did though he'd be the first one to brag to everyone that you can out-leg press him. It would be the first thing in the group chat in all caps.

Dating Changbin, it is so domestic? I imagine? Like you start dating and he is just this big ol' teddy bear and he would feel so honored if you let yourself be timid around him. Being plus size (insecure or not) you have to have a thick skin, you grow to defend yourself, you protect your heart because people have been cruel and society is a bitch. In doing so the walls are a bit higher, and the fortress is a bit more imposing. But with Binnie, he is a hug that is open anytime anywhere. The absolute pride in his man once you allow yourself to lean on him, or dare to lay on his chest while cuddling? ahhh thats the good stuff

I also think he would be the first one to defend you, knowing the boys love language is poking fun he wouldn't have it if it was you. Be prepared to be presented with one of the boys' heads in a headlock by Binnie if they say anything. He is your knight in shinning armor and will make sure you are laughing and smiling and having a good time. Also he like chan feels more at ease knowing you aren't gonna break if you two get up to something more rough or naughty in the bedroom. Even on a more innocent path just knowing you aren't gonna judge him for how he looks like he doesn't judge yours makes his heart soar.

-Hyunjin

Hyunjin I think would have the most obstacles in regard to dating someone of size. Not that I don't think he wouldn't, but I think with the Korean beauty standard he has a lot of internal stuff he needs to work out before he could be in a healthy relationship. He knows what its like to be judged on only by how you look. He wouldn't want that for you or any of his friends, so I think he would be friends to lovers? You are a great deal of a reality check for him, when he gets very internal and in his head about stuff he goes to you.

So by the time he figures out he has a crush on you his entire art book has already started to look like Renaissance drafts of plus-size women. Starts seeking out media and art that reminds him of you. I don't even think hes conscious that he's doing it? I think it feels like an itch he can't scratch just right and its driving him insane because he doesn't know how to pin down this feeling. Not in art, not in lyrics, it evades him. Till he is standing in front of you, at your apartment, with an Idol worthy bouquet of flowers. Opening his heart and hoping you don't reject him.

Which....would never happen? Your relationship is one of the ages, he writes songs about you, and draws you constantly. In-person he has to be near you, even as simple as playing with your jewelry or showing you memes on his phone while you eat silently side by side. It is a love that is comfort, its like warm clothes out of the dryer for hyunjin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@7ndipity @kaciidubs @itshannjisung @dreamescapeswriting @moonlightndaydreams @ldysmfrst

[lostfracturess]

remedies and reasons | ch. 01

pairing — professor geto x law student reader

summary — this wasn’t supposed to happen. not that miserable internship at the law firm you hated, not him becoming your doctor, and definitely not that drunken night at the bar. but he helped, and god, you needed a friend. and he did too. except it's never just friendship with him, is it? it could be perfect—messy, complicated, but perfect. if only his heart wasn’t already taken.

important — this story is a spin-off of symptoms and causes, starting right after chapter twelve. while it can be read as a standalone, reading the original story first will give you a better understanding of the characters and story.

word count — 10.3 k

warnings — 18+ ONLY. contains explicit sexual content, age difference (10 years), doctor-patient relationship, fwb, smoking, mature themes, angst, and depictions of illness (will update as the story progresses). reader discretion is advised.

author's note — hey friends !!! i'm so thrilled to share this new story with you, even though i said i wouldn't write two stories at the same time (oops!). this chapter covers mostly chapter twelve of symptoms and causes from suguru's pov, then introduces our new reader protagonist. if you haven't read the original story, some dynamics might be confusing initially, but i hope you'll get the hang of it. remember, you're the law reader here. at the start, there's a different reader (the protagonist from symptoms and causes). i'll note at the beginning of each scene to clarify. now, i'm so excited to hear your thoughts !! reblogs and comments are love <33

masterlist + playlist + ao3 + wattpad

next chapter ->

(note: s&c reader)

"You okay?" I asked, cutting through the tense quiet of the operating room.

Her eyes snapped to mine, the usual focus returning. "I'm fine," she said, gaze drifting away as a small frown creased her brow. "Sorry."

I watched her for a moment longer, unable to tear my eyes away. The soft curve of her cheek, the tender worry in her eyes — a painful reminder of what I could never have.

I wondered what she was thinking about. What occupied her mind like this. What could distract her from a surgery she normally loved with her whole being. But deep down, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

The familiar ache in my chest tightened as I steadied my hands, focusing back on the aneurysm pulsating beneath my fingertips. The world shrunk down to the surgical field, the beeping monitor and harsh lights fading away. Just me, her, and the delicate dance of our hands.

"Want to continue?"

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "You want me to clip it?"

"It's a gift," I replied.

"Gift? From who?"

I merely arched an eyebrow.

I didn't really need to say it aloud, did I? She knew.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her gloved hands. I could see her biting her lip, even beneath the mask. Doubt clouded her eyes, a flicker of insecurity that I rarely saw.

Stupid girl. 

Of course you can do it. You've done it before. Don't lose your focus now.

"And because I trust you," I added, my voice softening. "I wouldn't offer if I didn't."

Her focus snapped back to the exposed aneurysm with an almost palpable intensity. Her jaw set. "Okay," she said simply.

There she was. That's the woman I knew.

I moved to stand just behind her shoulder, close enough to monitor her every movement yet giving her the space she needed to work. She slid seamlessly into position at the microscope, her hands sure as they picked up the instruments.

"Focus," I whispered. "You've got this."

Watching her work was a bittersweet torture.

Her hands moved with a grace and precision that belied the complexity of the procedure, each movement precise yet unhurried. She was brilliant — a natural talent with an instinct few could match.

Except, perhaps, one person.

As she prepared to guide the clip into place around the bulging aneurysm, I couldn't help but feel proud. She was incredible and she didn't even seem to realize it.

"Do you ever think I'm... reckless?"

Her question, barely a whisper, caught me off guard.

I flinched, gaze snapping to study her profile. Her hands didn't falter, her focus unwavering. But I could see the question linger in her eyes.

Why would she ask that? Had Satoru put that doubt in her mind?

"Should I be worried that you're pondering this while inches deep in someone's brain?"

"Forget it," she muttered. "Just a fleeting thought."

With a small, dull click, the clip snapped shut. She had done it, and flawlessly at that. 

As I knew she would.

I let out a slow breath, not realizing until that moment how tightly wound with tension I had been. No matter how routine, those high-stakes seconds before clipping always gripped me.

"Well done," I said, watching the tension drain from her shoulders.

She glanced up at me, a genuine smile lighting up her eyes in a way that clenched at my heart. "Thanks, Suguru."

Oh, those eyes.

It pains me that it was him she was looking at with those soft, adoring eyes.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

The water stung, colder than usual.

I scrubbed my hands next to her, glancing at her from the corner of my eye. Lost in thought again. I could tell. Her movements were mechanical, detached, her hands pale under the harsh fluorescent light. 

She was a mere shadow of her former self.

Damn it, Satoru. What did you do to her to get her this hollowed out? I wanted to put my fist through his face for the worry he constantly caused her. And the worst part was, she didn't even know the half of it.

I should tell her, right?

It was the right thing to do, to warn her about his failing liver, his addiction slowly eating him alive. She deserved to know, to be prepared.

But I couldn't. I'd made a promise. And he'd promised to get his shit together. But how much were those promises worth, really?

I know how this story will end. 

I'd seen it play out too many times.

I cleared my throat, pushing the thoughts away. "I'm proud of you," I said, trying to break the silence.

"Huh?" She looked at me, confusion clouding her eyes.

"How far you've come," I clarified, trying to get the words out right, but they still sounded hollow. How could I tell her how damn proud I was of the incredible woman she'd become? "Really, you're doing a great job. With the surgery, the research—you have a great future ahead of you."

She gave me a weak smile, then turned her gaze back to her reddened hands. 

She was trying to hold it together, I could see that. And it killed me to see her like this, struggling while I felt powerless to help shoulder her burdens. I wished she'd just open up, tell me what was wrong. But again, I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"How are you doing?" I asked gently. "Really?"

"Holding up. Somehow."

I observed her closely. Even without her looking at me, I could feel the weight of her struggles pressing down on her.  She was always so strong, so confident, but this was different. I'd never seen her so—broken. It was like the life had drained out of her. And it damn hurt.

"New semester treating you okay?"

Stupid question, I know.

"Bit stressful," she admitted. "I have to retake a few exams."

Yeah, and whose goddamn fault is that?

God, I'm repeating myself, but I knew the answer. 

I hate the answer.

I hate it so damn much.

"Listen, if you need any help—" I began, wanting desperately to ease her burden.

"Thank you, Suguru," she cut me off, shutting off the faucet with a harsh twist. "But unless you're offering to take my tests for me, I'm afraid this is on me."

She turned and reached for a towel, the action more frantic than usual. I watched her, frustration and helplessness twisting in my gut. I wanted to do more, to be more for her, but how could I when the one she really needed was — not me.

Truth was a bitter pill I had to swallow every damn day.

As she dried her hands, I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I turned off the water. "I'm sorry things turned out like this for you," I said, the words almost painful. "But it's for the best, for him and for you. We did what we had to."

"Wait, what do you mean?"

I grabbed a towel. "Hm?"

"What do you mean with, 'we'?"

Shit.

I froze mid-movement, my jaw tightening involuntarily. Damn it, I hadn't meant for that to slip out.

Her eyes bore into me, demanding answers. "What did you and Satoru talk about that night? The night before the hearing? I know he was with you."

I remembered it all too well.

Satoru showing up at my door in the middle of the night, shaking, sweating, barely holding onto his sanity. The ethics committee wanting to see him bleed, the guilt eating him alive over dragging her down with him, his addiction — it all become too much.

He didn't know what to do, what the right thing was. And I helped him see reason.

Or at least, that's what I told myself.

"It's nothing important. He was confused, and I helped him clear his head."

"What does that mean? What did you say to him?"

Her hands gripped the edge of the sink until her knuckles showed bone-white through the skin. She wasn't going to let this go.

Damn it, how could I get out of this?

She deserved the truth, I knew that. But I'd sworn to Satoru I wouldn't tell. My mind raced, searching for an explanation, but the truth was, there wasn't one.

Damn it, Satoru. Why do I always have to clean up your messes?

"Tell me what the fuck you said to him!"

And then I saw it. A flash of hurt in her eyes, a vulnerability I'd never seen before. It shattered me. She was so hurt. My beautiful, strong girl was so hurt and there was not a damn thing I could do to ease her suffering.

Because she was with him.

And I was on the sidelines, forced to watch Satoru tear her apart piece by piece — until there was nothing left.

I hated it. Hated Satoru for causing her so much pain.

I couldn't take it anymore. Sorry, Satoru, but screw you and your lies. This was different, because she was different.

"Isn't it obvious?" I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I told him to end this. That it would destroy you, and that he should take responsibility for once!"

She flinched, her eyebrows drawing together as she mutely shook her head. "You had no right. You had no fucking right to do that!"

No right?

Oh pretty, I know that better than anyone. But how could I stand by and watch her get dragged down with him? No. Not anymore. I refused.

"No right?" My voice matched hers. I hated how this entire wretched situation had me losing control, lashing out at her when Satoru was the one who deserved it. "And watch you both go down? Satoru was a ticking time bomb! It was better this way—better him destroyed than you dragged down with him."

"I had him, Suguru!" she shouted. "I almost had him trusting me enough, trusting us enough, to let me help him, damn it!"

I almost laughed, but it stuck in my throat. It hurt too much to see the hope still clinging to her eyes. "You're delusional. He can't change. You know that. It would always have ended like this."

"My god, I can't believe your audacity! You ruined everything!"

I ruined everything?

Maybe it wasn't fair of me, maybe my own feelings were clouding my judgment, but damn it, I couldn't watch this anymore. Not when I could still taste the embers in my mouth each time I saw the deadened look in her eyes.

I stepped closer, my jaw clenched. She flinched back, but I kept going. I'd watched Satoru hurt her too many times. I couldn't stand by any longer.

I had to shatter her delusion.

"You know how many times I've seen this play out? The promises to change? I've seen it too often. He won't get better, and I won't let him drag you under with him. Not you."

Her back hit the sink. I stepped closer, until I felt the sudden searing burn of her warmth radiating against me, the intoxicating floral notes of her scent filling my senses until I thought I might lose it from proximity alone.

My hand twitched, moving before my mind could catch up. I wanted to pull back, but I couldn't.

Fingertip traced the delicate line of her jaw, trembling slightly at the contact I craved so much. I fought the urge to let my touch linger, to commit every precious dove-soft plane and angle to memory while I still could.

"This is for the best," I rasped out. "You're young, brilliant. This—relationship with Satoru, it would have ruined you."

"Don't you dare," she hissed, eyes blazing as she swatted my hand away. "You have no right to decide what's best for me."

"Yes, I do. Because I was the one who got you here in the first place, it was my doing, and I—" My voice caught in my throat. "I don't want to see you hurt."

The silence that followed was deafening.

I couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to see the pain I'd caused reflected in her eyes. I'd done what I thought was right, what I believed was necessary to protect her. But in doing so, I had become the very thing I despised—a barrier between her and the happiness she deserved.

Perhaps I'd just screwed everything up even more. And it was killing me.

"Why are you saying this now?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

I wanted to tell her everything. 

I wanted to confess the depth of my feelings, the months of silent longing that felt like a steadily tightening noose around my neck whenever I witnessed her happiness with him, the aching, hollow pit that seemed to consume more of me with every smile, every tender caress between them that I wasn't the recipient of, the gut-wrenching jealousy that flayed me from the inside out whenever she looked at him with those devastatingly soft, adoring eyes that held nothing but indifference for me, the—

Sorry.

I'll stop now.

It didn't matter anyway, did it?

The words wouldn't come.

I couldn't, wouldn't allow myself to cross that line.

All I could do was look at her, my heart splitting apart from the violence of my want with every beat. The urge to reach out, to pull her against me, was almost overwhelming. But I held back, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. I'd already done enough damage.

Then, my damned gaze flickered down.

Those lips. God, those lips.

Soft, slightly parted, the bottom one bearing the faint imprint of her teeth—a nervous habit I'd caught myself watching, savoring, hating myself for noticing.

How many times had Satoru kissed those worry marks away? How many times had I wanted to?

I'd lost count of the nights I'd lain awake, imagining her mouth on mine, her lips parting to gasp my name—not his. It was torture, this constant craving to know their texture, their heat, their taste.

It was wrong, so fucking wrong, to think about her that way.

But there I was, night after night, picturing those lips forming my name in a way friends never do. Dreaming of tasting them, feeling them, knowing them in every way I shouldn't.

And it hurt.

I sucked in a hard breath.

Sorry, Satoru. I can't keep this to myself anymore.

"You know damn well why."

I couldn't say it out loud, couldn't bring myself to admit aloud what she patently refused to see with her own eyes. No. I simply couldn't.

"No," she breathed. "You can't—"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Yeah, I know. You don't have to tell me that."

I already know that painful truth, pretty. It was a wound that refused to heal. I'd lived with that realization for far too long.

Suddenly, my pager blared, shattering the moment. Damn it. I cursed under my breath, pulling out the device. My face went taut as I read the message.

Yaga: Office. Now. Bring the student too.

That bastard. Why the hell did he want to see me now? And why her? Was it something Satoru screwed up again? Or something else? Did Satoru get the same message?

This couldn't have come at a worse time.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching mine. I couldn't meet her gaze. Not after I'd betrayed not only her, but Satoru too, with my stupid, selfish feelings.

"Yaga," I choked out. "Wants to see us. Now."

Our eyes finally met, hers filled with questions I've longed so much to answer.

"Why?"

"I...I don't know. But we should go. Come on."

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: s&c reader)

My foot tapped a nervous beat on the scuffed wooden floor.

Why was I so damn nervous? I knew Yaga's games, been through them a thousand times. But this felt different. Because she was here. And she shouldn't be.

A knot tightened in my gut.

He wouldn't bring up that topic again, would he?

I glared at Yaga, willing him to just spit it out already. My eyes flicked to her, sitting stiffly beside me. Her face was a mask. I wondered what she was thinking about. Was she thinking about what I said? Or about—no, I didn't even want to think about that.

I know, I know, I'm repeating myself.

I knew the answer.

I hate the answer.

"So, shall we begin?" Yaga's voice finally cut through the silence, like he'd been enjoying our discomfort. Damn old bastard. "I've called you here to discuss a research project that I want you to redo."

He slid a folder across the desk towards her.

No name, just a mess of loose papers threatening to spill out. She picked it up, her brow furrowing as she opened it. Then her grip tightened on the file. I leaned closer to see what had her so tense, and my stomach dropped.

I knew that title.

Knew it better than anyone, except maybe the one person who'd written it.

"You want me to redo a study that was completely pointless?" she asked, her voice sharp.

"Yes," Yaga said simply.

"The results were inconclusive. A dead end."

"Your research held promise. Dr. Geto never failed to remind me." Yaga's eyes flickered to me. "Now, you have better resources, better support. You can refine it, perfect it."

Damn it. I should've kept my mouth shut.

Regret gnawed at my insides like acid. Regretted telling him what a brilliant mind she had, how much she deserved to be here—among the best. 

Because she did.

She was a natural, something I'd rarely seen before, maybe only in Satoru. Hell, it was like watching a younger Satoru at work. And it hurt. It was painful to see so many parallels between them, knowing that I could never measure up to him in her eyes.

I'd brought her here because I believed in her. Because I wanted her on my research team, because I wanted to work with her. But now, I wasn't so sure.

Had I screwed up? Was I the reason she was in this mess? Had I brought her here only to watch her world fall apart?

I didn't want to admit it. Couldn't bear to be the cause of her pain.

I glanced at her, catching her eye. Frustration and confusion were written all over her face.

Shame washed over me.

It was stupid, I know. I shouldn't feel ashamed for recognizing her talent, for bringing her here where she belonged. She deserved it all. But I couldn't shake the feeling that without me, she would've been better off.

Without me and Satoru.

Her knuckles turned white as bone as she gripped the file tighter, then slammed it shut.

"That's not the point," she said. "My CAR-T Therapy research was theoretical, a mathematical model that was inherently flawed. All the best equipment in the world won't change that. It's a black hole."

Yaga leaned forward. "Listen, we have a generous donor. I think you met her at the conference? She took quite a liking to you. Her husband recently succumbed to this very type of tumor."

I knew it.

Yaga, the greedy bastard, never changed his stripes.

The silence was heavy, the only sound the insistent ticking of the clock on the wall. Her mind was racing, I could feel it. So was mine.

I must have spaced out for a second, because the next thing I knew, she was speaking again, her voice dangerously low. "You want to use me to exploit a grieving woman just to line your pockets?"

Yaga's mouth hung open, the smug look wiped clean off his face.

In any other situation, I would have laughed. She, a mere student, had managed to stun the all-powerful Yaga into silence. But the situation was anything but funny. Still, I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride. She was something else.

Suddenly, the door slammed open. I didn't even need to turn my head to know who it was.

"What the hell is going on here?" Satoru's voice boomed through the room.

Yaga's face hardened. "Dr. Gojo, what a... surprise. Here I thought you might have finally bothered to read your emails."

"Cut the bullshit, Yaga," Satoru spat. "This is a new low, even for you. Forcing a student, exploiting a grieving widow—have you no shame?"

Yaga rubbed his temples, his voice dripping with annoyance. "Dr. Gojo, your dramatics are exhausting. Do you understand the costs your actions have inflicted on this institution? A shred of gratitude, a willingness to shoulder some responsibility, might be a welcome change."

"Responsibility? You want to talk about responsibility? You're exploiting a woman in the depths of grief, using one of my students as a bargaining chip. What the hell happened to you, Yaga?"

The two of them went at it, their words flying back and forth faster than my eyes could follow. 

Yeah, Satoru sure knew how to make an entrance. Not a trait that was always helpful in situations like this, because something in Yaga snapped at his words.

Yaga stood up so abruptly his chair screeched against the floor. "Happened to me? Dr. Gojo, have you considered the consequences of your reckless behavior? You're the one spiraling, and frankly, it's becoming unbearable."

Damn, these two were about to kill each other. Satoru should know better than to provoke Yaga like that. The old man was stubborn as hell. But so was Satoru.

I closed my eyes briefly, then stepped between them, forcing myself to sound calm. "Director Yaga, please. She's a student, her focus should be on her studies."

"Of course, which is why you and Dr. Gojo will provide your expertise. Your old lab is free to use, funds are secured, equipment at your disposal. You have free rein."

Huh?

I narrowed my eyes. As if that made it any better.

Satoru let out a bitter laugh. "Free rein? Or free rein to do as you please? Despicable, Yaga. Truly despicable." He leaned back, folding his arms.   "And wasn't I suspended? Investigations and all that? But I suppose principles go out the window when money enters the picture."

"You have no right to dictate what happens here, Gojo," Yaga snapped, his composure slipping. "You answer to me. This research holds immense potential, not just for the university, but for the field itself. You will do it. End of discussion."

"Potential? Or is that just fancy code for fattening your wallet, Yaga?"

"Don't play dumb, Gojo. You, of all people, know exactly how the game is played."

"Don't. Do. This." Satoru leaned forward, his chest brushing against my hand as I tried to hold him back. "Involve her in your schemes, and I swear—Leave her out of this. Suguru and I can do the damned research, but let her focus on her studies."

"You're in no position to bargain. I can make things incredibly difficult for you, Gojo. Throw away all that potential, all that talent... it would be a shame, wouldn't it? But I am more than willing to do so if you prove uncooperative."

Smug bastard was really pushing it today.

He was nothing without us, and he knew it. This whole place would crumble without Satoru and me. We were the ones who brought in the grants, the prestige, the groundbreaking research. And yet, he treated us like we were disposable.

I pushed Satoru back, stepping up to confront Yaga directly. The urge to wipe that smugness from his face with my fists was nearly overwhelming, but I forced control over my rage. One hothead was more than enough for today.

Still, my words came out in a tone of barely restrained menace. "Director. Dr. Gojo has a point. This research will be a massive distraction. Her studies should be her priority."

"Yes," Yaga drawled. "I heard about her recent... setbacks." Yaga sank back in his chair and opened his laptop. "A failed practical exam, a theoretical test barely passed. And this isn't the first time, is it?"

He turned the screen towards her, her failing grades a glaring red on the display. "Tell me, which subject would you like to miraculously pass? A click of my fingers, and it's done."

Before I could say anything, Satoru exploded.

"You blackmailing piece of shit!"

"Blackmail?" Yaga said. "No, blackmail would be threatening to cut her scholarship, endangering her entire future here... which, thankfully, our generous donor would be more than happy to preserve."

This was too much. 

Now he had two pissed-off neurosurgeons on his hands. I braced my hands on the desk, leaning towards him. "Yaga, this is beyond the pale! This blatant manipulation—"

Suddenly, her voice cut through the tension. "I'll do it. I'll work on the research."

The room fell silent. 

Satoru and I both whipped around to look at her. Her gaze was fixed on Yaga, not flinching. There was something defeated about her, something I wasn't used to seeing. It chilled me to the bone. She wouldn't give in like that. I knew her better than that.

But what had changed?

"Someone finally sees reason," Yaga said, breaking the silence. "You start this week—"

"No," Satoru interrupted. "That's not up for debate. We start next week."

"This week," Yaga repeated, his voice firm.

Leaning in, Satoru's voice took on a dangerous edge. "Next week. Or I walk out that door and you can find yourself a new star surgeon."

Huh?

Why did the start date matter so much to him?

Was that the real issue here?

"Dr. Gojo, you are exceedingly close to losing my goodwill," Yaga ground out. "Fine. Next week."

Satoru backed off and started to pace the room. I glanced at her, who was still sitting silently in her chair. She looked so small, lost in the shadows of Yaga's office. I wanted to wrap her in a hug, tell her it would all be okay.

But it wasn't my place. I knew the answer—

Sorry.

I'll not repeat myself yet again.

My gaze shifted back to Yaga. "And if we find nothing? Months, years, wasted on a dead-end?"

"You'll continue as long as the funding lasts."

"Of course," Satoru spat from across the room.

"Well, look at the bright side, Gojo," Yaga said, adjusting his glasses and focusing on some papers on his desk. "I just approved that fancy new CT scanner for the ER. Isn't that what you've been whining about? Finally found some spare change in the budget, did we?."

"You fucking bastard," Satoru hissed.

Yaga merely shrugged. "Everyone has to play their role, Gojo."

I watched the exchange with a growing sense of disgust. Yaga's power plays were nothing new, but this — this was something else. Exploiting a grieving widow's generosity, using my student's academic struggles as leverage. It was sickening. 

I'd always known Yaga was ruthless, but this level of manipulation left a sour taste in my mouth. He was like a parasite, feeding off the brilliance and drive of others, all while masquerading as an advocate for the institution's best interests.

I clenched my jaw.

How could I continue to work for a man who treated his students and staff as mere commodities to be exploited?

Suddenly, I heard a shaky breath behind me.

I turned to see her staring blankly ahead, her body trembling ever so slightly. "If you'll excuse me," she whispered, then abruptly stood up and practically fled the room.

"Wait—" I started, but she was already gone, the door clicking shut behind her.

"Fuck you, Yaga!" Satoru shouted, slamming his fist against the wall hard enough to leave a mark. "This is your fault, your doing!" With that, he stormed out after her.

And I couldn't follow.

All I could do was try to clean up the mess that was left behind.

As soon as they were gone, I turned back to Yaga, who seemed to think the conversation was over. Oh, but it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

"You know about them," I said, not bothering to phrase it as a question.

"It's obvious even to a blind man, Dr. Geto," Yaga replied, his eyes glued to the papers on his desk.

"And you're just going to ignore it?"

He looked up, a cold glint in his eyes. "I finally found Gojo's weakness. Why would I let that go? At long last, I have a way to make him obey me."

I scoffed. In one swift motion, I swept the papers off his desk, scattering them across the floor. I leaned forward, my hands braced on his desk, glaring at him.

"This crosses a line, Yaga. You've gone too far."

His eyes narrowed. "Watch your tone, Dr. Geto. You're treading on dangerous ground."

"No, you are!" I shot back, my voice rising. "You're exploiting her, using her for your own gain. You think you can manipulate everyone, but you're wrong."

"Control? Greed? Those are harsh words coming from you," Yaga retorted, standing up to face me. "And here I thought you, of all people, would understand."

"Understand your greed? Not a chance."

"I don't care if you like my choices or not. This is how things work. You can play by the rules, or be replaced. Don't delude yourself into thinking you're irreplaceable, Dr. Geto."

"Your arrogance is going to cost you another surgeon if you don't watch it. You drove Sukuna away, and now you're halfway there with Gojo and me."

"Sukuna was a different story!" Yaga snapped, his face contorted with a rage I couldn't quite comprehend. He quickly regained his composure, but the outburst had left an uneasy silence in its wake.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen and saw Shoko's name. Frowning, I answered the call. "Shoko? What is it?"

"Suguru, there's a patient here who insists on seeing Satoru. She says it's really important, but he isn't answering his phone, and she won't leave.“

"Why can't you see her yourself?"

"I need a neurologist's assessment," she replied. "And she specifically asked for Satoru. They had an appointment scheduled, and she's adamant about seeing him."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "There are other neurologists on staff right now."

I could hear her sigh on the other end of the line. "She's never seen anyone else here, Suguru. I'm pretty sure there's a reason she's so insistent on Satoru. Just look at her, do me a favor."

"Alright, I'll be there soon," I conceded. "Bring her to my office."

I ended the call and turned back to Yaga. I took a deep breath, trying to quell the rage that threatened to consume me. "This isn't over. Not by a damn sight."

"Yeah, yeah, Dr. Geto, as always," he dismissed me, already back at his papers. "By the way, there's a legal consult regarding this research coming up for you and Gojo. We don't want a repeat of past indiscretions, now do we?" He looked up at me.

I wanted to smash his smug face in. 

I turned and stormed out of his office, slamming the door behind me. My blood was boiling, my fists clenched tight. I hated this whole damn situation. Hated Yaga, hated his manipulative tactics, hated how he was using her. But most of all, I hated feeling so goddamn powerless.

As I walked down the corridor, my anger slowly hardening into resolve. Yaga might think he was in control, but he was wrong. I wouldn't let him manipulate her, or Satoru, or anyone else.

Not this time. Not ever again.

─────── ౨ৎ ───────

(note: r&r reader)

I made my way to the hospital.

A damn patient was really the last thing on my mind. I had more important things to do than deal with a hysterical patient. What was it even about? Why did it have to be Satoru she wanted to see? Some relative of his?

I tried to take a deep breath and calm myself, but the downpour between the parking lot and the main entrance made it damn near impossible. By the time I got inside, I was soaked to the bone. No umbrella in sight, of course.

My office door was slightly open. I pushed it in, expecting to find some old lady or something. Instead, a young woman sat in the chair across from my desk. Mid twenties, maybe, with a delicate, almost fragile look about her. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.

The office was dark, the lights off, which struck me as odd given the gloomy weather outside. But the light from the window beside her illuminated her face, and I had to admit — she was beautiful.

I must have hesitated overlong in the doorway, because her gaze suddenly snapped up to meet mine, those stunning eyes of hers holding me captive. "You are not Dr. Gojo."

"I'm Dr. Geto," I managed, clearing my throat against the strange tension. "You not fond of light, are you?" I asked pointing towards the light switch.

"I like it a bit dimmed," she said, and I didn't question it further.

I stepped into the room, glancing down at my clothes. Not exactly the most professional look for a doctor, standing there soaked through in front of a patient. I threw on my white coat, but it did little to hide my damp appearance.

"You were here for Dr. Gojo, right?" I said as I sat down behind my desk.

"Yes," she said, her eyes following my every move.

"I'm sorry, but he isn't available right now. But I'm a neurologist as well. Perhaps I can help you instead?"

She slid a piece of paper across my desk, her hand still resting on it. "I just need a signature here."

"A signature?" I leaned forward, water dripping from my hair onto the form. I quickly pushed my wet strands back. "This is a health screening form."

"Yes." Her eyes darted nervously to mine. "I need it for my job."

"Can I take a look at it?" I made to take the paper, but her hand remained firmly in place.

"Just the signature, please. Then I'll be out of your hair."

I raised an eyebrow. "I can't sign something without knowing what I'm signing."

Her brow furrowed, and she snatched the form back. "Sorry to have wasted your time," she muttered, starting to get up.

"Wait," I said, stopping her mid-motion. What was it about this woman? What did Satoru have to do with any of this?

"Tell me." I leaned back in my chair. "What did you and Gojo agree on regarding this?"

She hesitated, biting her lip. "Dr. Gojo agreed to sign it without asking too many questions."

Something didn't add up. Satoru might be an addict, but he wasn't reckless with patients.

"I swear, I'll give you the signature you need if you'd just let me take a look at it first."

Reluctantly, she slid the form back across the desk, avoiding my eyes. I scanned it quickly, my brow furrowing as I saw the long list of medications, mostly anticonvulsants. 

That explained the lights being off.

"You have epilepsy." I looked up at her. Why would she think either of us would sign this without checking it out first?

"Yes."

"And you're currently taking all these meds?" I gestured to the list.

"Yes."

I leaned back, studying her face. "And Gojo knew about this?"

"Yes."

"Do you have any other words in your vocabulary besides 'yes'?"

Her brow furrowed, and a flicker of defiance flashed in her eyes.

I sighed. "Come on, sit down."

Reluctantly, she settled back into the chair.

I studied her face, looking for any signs of her epilepsy — a slight tremor in her hands from the Topiramate, maybe. But there was nothing. She was perfectly still. Satoru must have found the right dosage.

The silence stretched on. I waited for an explanation, and she knew it. I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"He's been treating me for a while," she finally said.

"I see. And he agreed to sign this health screening form for you?"

"Yes—"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Look, Dr. Geto, I really need this for my internship," she pleaded. "It's really important to me."

I glanced back down at the form. "Nishimura and Asahi, huh? That's a big deal. You're a law intern?"

"Yes, I am. I'll be working there for the next semester."

I skimmed the papers again, test results, MRI scans. "So, you're almost done with your studies?"  I asked, not looking up.

"I do my second state examination after my internship, yes, then I'm done."

"Hmm." I looked up from the papers, the rain drumming against the windows, the only sound in the otherwise silent office. She stared at me, unwavering.

"So you're preparing for your final exams while working the internship? Sounds stressful," I tried to broach the subject carefully.

"Please, Dr. Geto," she said. "I just need a signature on this paper, and I'm out of here."

I sighed. "I understand. But I can't just sign this without checking in on you first. I need to run some tests, make sure you're fit for work."

My eyes scanned the papers again. Blood tests and medication checks were recent, but the MRI scans were outdated. Even Satoru wouldn't have let her slide with that.

"Look, we can make this quick," I offered. "Your MRI scans are old. We take new ones, and then—"

"No," she blurted out, her voice rising in panic. "I mean, isn't there another way?"

"Another way to look into your brain?" I raised an eyebrow. "I'm afraid not."

She bit her lip, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap, saying nothing.

"Look, it's crucial for me to get a clear picture of your brain activity," I explained. "It's the only way I can make sure you're safe and healthy. Otherwise, I can't sign that form."

She looked up at me again. "I... I can't do MRIs. I'm not really comfortable with enclosed spaces."

Huh?

Was that the problem?

I ran a hand through my damp hair, looking back at her scans. "Your last scans were done by Dr. Gojo too, right?"

"Yes."

She was a woman of few words, it seemed.

"Was there something special Dr. Gojo did that made you feel more comfortable in the MRI? Did he give you any medication? Vistaril? Valium?" I knew it wasn't that, though. Those drugs would interact badly with her other meds.

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking like she might throw up any second. "He... held my hand."

Ha?

My eyebrows shot up. "He held your hand?"

She lifted her chin and looked away. "It... it helped."

I can only imagine the dumbfounded look that must have settled on my features as I processed her words. I couldn't picture Satoru, who rather had his patients in and out in mere seconds, being so patient and caring with anyone. Let alone holding their hand through a brain scan.

She crossed her arms, a stubborn look on her face. "I swear, nothing weird happened. He just held my hand, that's all."

I couldn't help but laugh.

"It's not funny," she protested, her cheeks flushing. "It was really embarrassing."

"Oh, I'm sure it was," I teased, enjoying her flustered reaction. "But it's also quite cute."

She huffed, turning her head away. "It's not cute. It's just... something he did."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the desk. "And would you like me to do the same?"

Her eyes narrowed, a spark of challenge in them. "His hands were really soft."

"Is that so?" I leaned back in my chair. I could see the wheels turning in her head, her stubbornness a thinly veiled attempt to stall for time.

"And warm."

"Aha."

"And he had this way of holding my hand," she started, demonstrating with her own hands. My eyebrows shot up even higher as she mimicked Satoru's thumb stroking her knuckles. "Like this."

Somewhere in the middle of her demonstration, she must have realized how ridiculous this was, because she abruptly stopped.

"Don't laugh!" she warned, and I realized I was indeed grinning like an idiot.

Before she could object, I reached out and took her hand in mine.

Her skin was soft, her fingers delicate. I held her gaze, challenging her silently. Not sure what I was trying to prove, but the warmth of her hand in mine felt... good. I knew I was crossing a line here, but I couldn't bring myself to care.

"See? Not so bad, is it?"

She didn't say anything, but her grip tightened a bit. I held her gaze for a few more seconds, then my thumb brushed against the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. She seemed to relax slightly under my touch.

Her eyes darted around the room as if searching for an escape route. "I... I suppose."

I couldn't help but let the moment linger, our hands still intertwined. I noticed a slight tremor in her fingers, and my thumb instinctively smoothed over her skin again.

She suddenly gasped. "That's... quite weird."

"And with Gojo it wasn't weird?"

She shook her head, eyes glued to our hands. "No. I just realized it's weird in general."

I smiled. "Well, then it's settled. We'll schedule your MRI for tomorrow morning."

"You're not like other doctors."

"Perhaps not," I said, finally letting go of her hand. "But you're not exactly your average patient either."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she gestured towards my soaked shirt. "You're the doctor who's completely drenched. I can practically see your skin underneath. Not very professional, is it?"

I glanced down at my sopping clothes. I hadn't even realized how see-through my shirt was. "For someone who's afraid of an MRI machine, you sure have a big mouth."

She crossed her arms. "And for someone who just held a patient's hand without their explicit consent, you sure have a lot of nerve. That's a violation of medical ethics, you know. I could report you for that."

"A law student, are we?" I raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Perhaps you should focus on passing your exams before you start threatening lawsuits."

"Yeah, well, I'd need that signature before I can do that, wouldn't I?"

"Fair enough." I stood up, keys in hand. "Until tomorrow then. Try not to sue me in your sleep."

I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me. "Just so you know, Dr. Geto. I'm not afraid of MRI machines. I just don't like them."

I turned back, a grin spreading across my face. "We'll see about that tomorrow, Attorney," I challenged. "We'll see about that."

The hallway was empty, the silence broken only by the steady drip of water from my clothes. As I walked, the adrenaline of the encounter faded, replaced by the familiar weight of the day's earlier events. The tense confrontation with Yaga, the lingering ache for her — it all came back, a dull throb in the background of my thoughts.

Her face.

Her eyes.

That damn smile.

I ran a hand through my hair.

Fuck.

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(note: r&r reader)

I held my promise.

Her fingers were cold and clammy, her pulse racing beneath my touch. My thumb traced the back of her hand, hoping to convey some sense of comfort. The MRI machine's steady thrum filled the room, but beneath it, I could still hear her shallow breaths.

How the hell did I end up here? Holding hands with a patient during a goddamn brain scan was definitely not in my job description.

"Can you tell me something?" she asked. "Dr. Gojo always talked to me while I was in here."

"What do you want to know?"

"How did you and Dr. Gojo meet?"

I hesitated, slightly irritated by the personal question.

"We've known each other our whole lives. Kindergarten, elementary school, high school... we didn't always get along. He can be a real pain in the ass. But somewhere along the way, we just clicked. Been stuck together ever since. Same university, now working together."

"So you've never been apart?"

"Not really," I said, continuing to soothe her hand with my thumb. "I think the longest we were separated was when he did a semester abroad. Six months, maybe."

"Wow. Sounds like you're an old married couple."

I huffed. "Yeah, somehow we were that."

"Were?"

I looked up, realizing I'd slipped into past tense.

There was a long silence as I thought about it. We used to be so close, inseparable. There was nothing we didn't share, nothing that could ever come between us. But lately, it felt like we were drifting apart.

Maybe I was only realizing it now.

"Oh, I..." I trailed off. I rested my chin on my free hand, looking away from her. "I guess it's only natural. People drift apart. Life happens."

What the hell was I doing?

This was some random patient of Satoru's, a complete stranger. I should've stuck to small talk, the weather, anything but my personal life. But maybe, with everything going on, I just needed to talk about it — to anyone. Because I sure as hell couldn't talk to Satoru about it.

But she wouldn't understand, would she? She was just a stranger.

She wouldn't understand the sleepless nights, the endless tossing and turning, the hollow ache in my chest that wouldn't go away.

"Hmm," she murmured, her grip on my hand tightening slightly. "Was it a woman?"

"Huh?" I looked at her, or at least the part of her face that wasn't hidden by the MRI machine.

"The reason you parted, I mean?"

"No. It wasn't a woman."

The silence hung in the air as the MRI hummed and clicked. She didn't say anything.

I took a deep breath. "It was a woman. But not in the way you think."

"It's never what it seems, is it?"

I hesitated, not sure how much to share. But something in her voice, a softness, made me want to go on. "They share a bond... a deep one. I've never seen anything like that. It's like they're the very air the other breathes."

Her grip on my hand tightened, as if she understood the depth of my pain, even without knowing the full story. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"It's alright," I said, trying to shrug it off, but the pain was still raw. "I knew from the start that they were made for each other."

The truth sliced through me, sharp and cold.

They were too similar, both bordering on insanity to be fair, but similar. Yet, they were so stubborn, so unwilling to admit their need for each other, that they'd rather tear each other down.

It was a damn tragedy.

Even more of a tragedy to get caught up in their destruction, to have these stupid feelings I'd rather not have.

I stayed silent, unsure if I wanted to say anything more. It hurt too much to talk about it, the wound still too fresh. But then, her voice cut through the silence again.

"The law firm is hell."

"Huh?" I was pulled back to the present. "What do you mean?"

"The corporate types are all so stiff and judgmental," she complained. "And the other law students... so ambitious, always trying to one-up each other. I hate it."

My lips twitched into a light smile. "Yeah, law students were always ambitious, even back in my day."

"They are. Everyone's so focused on being the best, even if it means stepping on others. I'm not sure I have that kind of ambition."

"But you got an internship at one of the top law firms in the city," I pointed out. "That must mean you're pretty ambitious yourself."

There was a pause, then she almost whispered, "Yeah, but at what cost..."

Hm?

I barely caught her words, but before I could ask her to repeat herself, a sudden beep from the MRI machine cut through the air. The machine whirred to a stop, the sudden silence almost unsettling. The scan was complete.

The table slowly slid out, bringing her back into full view. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the light. "That's it?" she asked, sounding surprised. "It's over?"

"All done, Attorney," I said with a reassuring smile. "You did great."

As she started to sit up, I realized I was still holding her hand. She glanced down at our intertwined fingers. "You can let go now, Dr. Geto."

I blinked, snapping back to reality. I quickly released her hand. "Sorry."

"It's okay," she said, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "I tend to have that effect on men."

"Again, for someone who's afraid of MRIs, you've got a pretty big mouth."

"Again, I'm not afraid of them. I just don't like them."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, helping her off the table. My hand brushed against hers again. "Now let's take a look at those scans."

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(note: r&r reader)

As the images flickered onto the screen, my focus sharpened, my eyes scanning the intricate patterns of her brain. The room was quiet, broken only by the soft hum of the computer and the rhythmic beeping of the nearby monitors.

"Everything looks good, Attorney," I said. "No signs of any abnormalities or lesions."

She leaned forward, her eyes wide with interest as she studied the images. "So, I'm all clear?"

"As far as I can tell. Your epilepsy seems to be well-controlled with your current medication."

"Thanks, Dr. Geto, I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome," I replied, grabbing the form from my desk. "Now, about that signature..." I quickly filled it out, my pen scratching across the paper. With a final flourish, I signed my name at the bottom.

"Here you go," I said, handing it over. "All set."

She took it, her eyes scanning the document quickly. "Thank you. You've been a lifesaver."

"Just doing my job." I waved away her thanks. "Now, go out there and conquer the legal world."

She looked up from the paper and met my gaze with a boldness that caught me off guard. "Would you like to go out for drinks this weekend?"

I blinked, my mind scrambling to process her words. "I... what?" I stammered, completely taken aback. "Are you—asking me out?"

"No, no, that's not it at all!" She quickly waved her hands in front of her face. "I mean, not like a date or anything. I could really use a friend, someone to show me around and... you know, just hang out with."

I stared at her, amused and bewildered at the same time. "Attorney, I'm at least ten years older than you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Ha? How old are you?"

"How old are you?"

"Didn't you read my medical history, doctor?"

Right. Now I remembered. Twenty-six. Yeah, ten years older. I leaned against the desk, not quite sure what to make of her proposition.

"I'm your doctor," I said, reminding her of the obvious.

"Technically, I'm Dr. Gojo's patient."

"Even so, you realize how this could be perceived, right?" 

"It's not like I'm asking for your kidney. Just a few drinks." She shrugged, unfazed. "Besides, you seem like a nice guy."

"That's all it takes for you?"

"Come on, don't make it so hard for me," she said, pouting playfully.

"I'm not sure I'm the best person to show you around town. I'm a bit of a workaholic. Socializing isn't exactly my forte."

She tilted her head, studying me with a curious gaze. "So you're saying you don't have any friends?" she asked, a playful challenge in her voice. "Are you a loner, Dr. Geto?"

I hesitated, thrown off by her directness. "Do you always speak your mind so bluntly?"

She shrugged. "Only when I'm talking to heartbroken doctors who seem a little lonely."

I couldn't help but be intrigued by her persistence.

She was unlike any patient I'd ever met — bold, witty, and surprisingly insightful. And despite the age difference, there was some sort of strange understanding between us. I couldn't quite tell if she was doing this for herself or for me, but I found myself wanting to find out.

"Alright, Attorney," I said. "You win. I'll show you around town. But don't expect any wild nights out. I'm more of a quiet bar and good conversation kind of guy."

Her face lit up with a genuine smile. "Sounds perfect. Just promise me you won't try to diagnose me with anything while we're out."

"Why, is there more to diagnose?"

"Nothing major," she said with a chuckle. "Just the usual existential angst, quarter-life crisis, questioning my entire career path kind of stuff."

"Don't worry. I won't diagnose anything outside this hospital."

"Great." She grinned, extending her hand. "Then it's a deal."

As our hands clasped together, I returned her smile. "Deal."

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(note: s&c reader)

Satoru's call woke me up, telling me to get my ass to the lab. It was my day off, damn it, but when he mentioned she wanted to meet us. I dragged myself out of bed.

By the time I got to our old lab — now ours again, apparently — Satoru was already mapping out the entire research study on the whiteboard. He must have been there for hours.

Good thing I'd brought two coffees. I knew this was coming.

Hours passed in a blur of caffeine and whiteboard markers. Satoru and I argued over every damn strategy, our approaches clashing like always. He wanted to go one way, I wanted to go another. Every idea we had was met with immediate criticism and erased within minutes.

New idea, erase, repeat.

But we kept going, trying to find a plan that would work, not just for us, but for her. We both wanted to take some of the burden off her shoulders.

Then the lab door opened. I turned, surprised to see anyone before the afternoon. My heart stuttered in my chest.

It was her.

She walked over to us, her expression unreadable. It was the first time I'd seen her since Yaga's office, since I'd almost let those three damning words slip past my guard. Since I'd seen the confusion in her eyes when she realized what I was about to confess.

God, what had I been thinking?

That she'd what, return my feelings?

Foolish.

"What are you doing here?" Satoru asked. "Don't you have a lecture right now?"

"Yuta's covering for me. It's fine."

"That's not how this research will work. You won't jeopardize your studies for this," Satoru said, his voice firm.

"Last time I checked, this was my research. Remember?" she retorted, her tone just as sharp.

Satoru merely huffed. She shifted under his gaze, looking uncomfortable. And tired. No, tired was an understatement. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week. Her cheeks were hollow, her skin pale. I hated seeing her like this.

"You look exhausted," I observed quietly. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I'm fine," she said, but it was a blatant lie.

I glanced at Satoru, who was already looking at me with a frown. He thought the same thing I did.

"Look, I have an idea," she said suddenly, walking over to the whiteboard and snatching the marker from my hand. Before I could react, she erased our notes with a few harsh strokes.

Ouch.

"My original approach was too theoretical—too cautious," she began, drawing on the whiteboard. "I wanted to use CAR-T therapy to treat brain tumors like blood diseases, but that's not enough. What if we combine CAR-T with targeted antibodies?"

I took a seat next to Satoru, my eyes following hers as she scribbled diagrams and equations on the board. I took a sip of my coffee, already cold. "Antibodies... what kind?"

"T-cell engagers," she said without missing a beat. "We can engineer them to bridge the gap between the CAR-T cells and the tumor."

"That's never been tested before," Satoru chimed in.

"That's why we'll be the first," she retorted. “We'll modify the CAR-T cells to specifically target the glioblastoma's antigen fingerprint. But we need to combine them with T-cell engagers, designed to simultaneously bind the EGFR protein. This way, we can maximize tumor cell destruction."

It was hard to keep up. Her words were spilling out a mile a minute, as if she was afraid they otherwise might slip her mind, the drawings on the board barely legible.

Then, she spun around. "And we'll inject them directly into the brain."

Silence.

Satoru and I stared at her, trying to process what she'd just laid out. Even as seasoned neurosurgeons, we were struggling to keep up. This was on a whole other level than anything we'd considered.

We were looking for something that would work and be safe.

She just wanted to find a way to make it work, damn the risks it seemed. The lack of sleep was clearly messing with her head, but in a twisted way, it made sense. Still, we couldn't actually go through with this, could we?

Her gaze flitted between us, waiting for a response.

God, I need a cigarette.

"That's," I paused, searching for the right word, "—bold."

"More like insane," Satoru countered. "When was the last time you actually slept?"

"Ha? Tell me this doesn't make sense."

I leaned back, drumming my fingers on the armrest as I thought it over. "It does. Theoretically, it could work."

"Combining CAR-T with antibodies? Direct brain injection? We don't have preclinical data, not even hypothetical models to support something this radical," Satoru countered.

"So?" she challenged. "Isn't that what groundbreaking research is about? Taking risks, pushing boundaries?" She gestured to the whiteboard. "This—this is worth the risk."

I stood up and started pacing, rubbing my chin as I thought it through. I walked back over to the board, took the marker from her hand, and started scribbling.

"She's right,"  I said, my mind racing.  "Direct injection cuts through the blood-brain barrier issue. And targeted antibodies... that opens up possibilities we haven't even considered."

But there were still so many obstacles. "The potential for cytokine release syndrome—" I mused aloud. "If the T-cells overreact, we could trigger an inflammatory response."

She leaned closer, her eyes focused on the board. "We can manage that. Steroids, anti-IL-6... strict monitoring protocols."

Hmm, maybe. But there was still more to consider. I kept writing. "And what about the target itself? EGFRvIII is notoriously heterogeneous. We need robust evidence that our antibodies won't miss their mark—"

"Is it just me, or am I the only sane person in this room right now?" Satoru interrupted, his arms crossed as he glared at us from his chair. "We're not talking about hypothetical models here. We're talking about messing with someone's brain. Someone's life."

"I'm well aware of the risks, Satoru," she shot back.

"Aware and reckless aren't the same thing," he retorted.

"Coming from you, that's rich."

God, I need two cigarettes now.

"Look, you've barely slept for a week, and now you're proposing—what, supercharged T-cells?" He gestured towards our chaotic notes on the whiteboard. "Have you both lost your goddamn minds?" His gaze flickered between the two of us.

I was surprised he was so hesitant. Satoru was usually the first to jump into the deep end. Somehow, I had the feeling he changed. He wasn't as risky as I used to know him. Must be her influence.

She took a step forward, her eyes locked on Satoru's. "This could work, Satoru. Or are you too much of a coward to even try?"

"Ha?"

She leaned in, her hands gripping the arms of his chair. "Tell me, do these supercharged T-cells unnerve you? Make you uncomfortable with yourself?"

I had to look away. The sight of them so close together made my stomach churn. I didn't want to see whatever was about to happen. She whispered something I couldn't make out, but the intensity in her eyes was clear. A wave of irritation, of jealousy, washed over me.

My phone buzzed, a welcome distraction. I pulled it out, annoyance flaring when I saw the caller ID.

"Damn it." I answered the call. "Shoko, what is it?"

"Hey Suguru, look, we have an emergency here and the other neurologist is out sick. We need someone to jump in, can you come?"

I rubbed my temple. "Alright, I'm on my way."

I turned back to them, already gathering my things. "We'll pick this up later. There's a situation at the hospital." I looked at her, concern replacing my irritation. "Get some rest. You look like hell."

The words were out before I could stop them, harsher than I intended. But I was already halfway out the door.

Later, as I was scrubbing into surgery, my own words echoed in my mind.

And I felt awful.

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(note: s&c reader)

Sharp autumn air stung my lungs with each greedy drag on my cigarette.

Across the table, Satoru's fingers tapped an impatient rhythm on the worn table that set my teeth on edge. I had to resist the urge to reach over and grab his wrist to make him stop. His eyes were glued to his phone. Overhead, the sky was a bruise-colored canvas, the sun barely visible.

Forgotten coffee grew cold between us.

I took another long drag from my cigarette. Satoru shifted opposite of me, his leg bouncing with nervous energy. He hadn't looked away from his phone in minutes, his fingers twitching as if itching to type a message.

We sat like this for a while at the campus outdoor cafeteria. Students hurried past. Neither of us said a word.

"Sorry for ditching you with my patient the other day," he finally said. "How'd it go?"

I exhaled a plume of smoke and watched it vanish into the leaden sky. "Everything's fine. Medication's good, MRI was clean."

"That's good news," he said, already back to his phone, unlocking and locking it in a nervous tic. "Knew you'd take care of her." He glanced up with a smirk. "So she actually went through with the MRI? How'd that go?"

I let out a dry laugh. "Let's not talk about it." I stubbed out my cigarette butt in the grimy ashtray and immediately lit another. "Didn't know you were so soft with your patients."

"I'm not a monster, you know." He shrugged, gaze dropping back to his phone. "I do what's best for them, even if it means bending the rules a bit." He paused, a smirk once again forming on his lips. "She's pretty straightforward, huh?"

"Did you sleep with her?" I asked bluntly.

Satoru's head snapped up, eyebrows raised. "What, you think I'm screwing every student that walks through my door?"

"You seem familiar."

"She's nice. I was nice in return. That's all." His attention was already drifting back to the bright screen. "Besides, she works with Higurama. He asked me to keep an eye on her."

I exhaled slowly, the smoke a grey ghost against the darkening sky.

"She's doing okay, by the way," he offered without looking up.

My blood ran cold. 

I knew who he was talking about. We both did.

Satoru's gaze met mine, his smirk gone. "I know you want to ask."

Silence fell. I wondered if he could sense the fever-pitch of my pulse, if he knew about my feelings for her. Because the way he looked at me now, I had a sinking feeling he did. My fingers tightened around my coffee cup.

"It's not easy for her," I said, trying to sound indifferent.

"Yeah." Satoru's expression hardened. "I should kill Yaga over this whole mess."

"Still, her plan might actually work. It's a good one."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" His leg started its anxious bouncing again under the table. "She's pushing herself too damn hard."

He paused, then blurted, "We should leave this university."

"Like we talked about before you backed out?"

"You know why." He unlocked his phone again, only to lock it a second later with a sigh. "I can't leave her alone with these maniacs."

"The whole staying away from her thing isn't really working out, huh?"

"Of course not," Satoru scoffed with a weary sigh. "I should've known better."

I took a sip of the coffee gone cold and bitter minutes ago, watching him over the rim. He raked a hand through his hair, then tugged at the strands, his leg still bouncing under the table. Something was eating at him.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah, fine," he replied curtly.

I watched him for a beat longer. He was clearly anything but fine. But I knew better than to push it. He wouldn't tell me anyway. Satoru always kept that shit bottled up tight.

But there was another issue too, wasn't there?

"How's the medication treating you?" I asked instead. "We should get your liver enzymes checked soon."

"Huh?" He looked up from his phone, clearly surprised by the question — as if he'd forgotten about his failing liver.

Just then, Zenin Maki and her friends strolled past our table. Okkotsu gave us a quick wave as they passed, and I returned a faint smile.

It was strange. She wasn't with them.

Come to think of it, I hadn't seen her around campus at all since we last crossed paths in the lab.

Satoru's gaze followed them as they scanned the outdoor seating area for a table. His eyes widened, then he quickly stood up. "Sorry, Suguru, I have to go," he said hastily, not giving me any explanation. But I should be used to this by now.

It wasn't the first time.

He was already gone, leaving his coffee cold and abandoned in his wake. I took another long drag of my cigarette, stubbed it out in the overflowing ashtray, and reached for my phone.

[12:15 PM] Me: So, Saturday at 9pm? Know a good sports bar if you're into that.

[12:16 PM] Attorney: Sounds good, love sports. Send me the address.

next chapter ->

author's note: i'm so thrilled to hear your thoughts on geto's pov! he's really struggling with gojo and s&c reader being the mess that they are and his feelings in all of it, but don't worry, he'll get his happy ending (with you) too hehe <33

i hope it wasn't too confusing though. this is my first time writing a spin-off, so if you haven't read symptoms and causes, it must be quite confusing at times. but the next chapters will focus less on the s&c reader and more on geto and the r&r reader of course. but i love how i can provide background info for s&c through this story and vice versa :)) & lastly, thank you so much for reading !! your support truly means the world. hope u all have a great day !! <3

pls comment on the masterlist for the taglist. or consider subscribing to the story on AO3, if you'd like to stay updated on future chapters.

🏷️ @nanamis-baker @whereflowerswenttodie @certainlysyko @ri-sa20 @biancaness

@roseified @rixo-19 @madaqueue @starmapz @alwaysfreakingout

@gojoluvs @totallytatum @shervinss

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[drpavankumarblog]

Vital Heart Surgeries You Should Know About

The heart is an unprecedented organ, working indefatigably to keep our bodies working. In any case, similar to some other organ, helplessness to different ailments can be perilous in the event that it is not treated in time. In this blog, we'll investigate Aneurysm Operation, Cardiac Myxoma, and the domain of Complex Heart Surgery, revealing insight into these basic methods that can save lives.

What is an Aneurysm Operation?

An aneurysm is an inflatable lump that happens in the mass of a vein, commonly in a corridor. It can shape anyplace in the body, however when it occurs close to the heart, it turns out to be especially hazardous. On the off chance that the aneurysm bursts, it can prompt inward draining and even passing. An Aneurysm Operation is performed to fix or eliminate this lump, keeping it from exploding.

The technique can shift contingent upon the size, area, and seriousness of the aneurysm. A few patients might go through customary open medical procedures, while others may be contenders for less obtrusive endovascular systems. The two methodologies plan to build up the debilitated vessel, reestablishing ordinary blood stream and limiting the gamble of crack.

Grasping Cardiac Myxoma

A Cardiac Myxoma is an uncommon yet possibly dangerous kind of harmless heart growth that normally creates in the left chamber of the heart. While the growth isn't harmful, it can block blood stream, prompting serious complexities like stroke or cardiovascular breakdown. Side effects of Cardiac Myxoma can differ however may incorporate windedness, tipsiness, and, surprisingly, unexpected swooning.

To treat Cardiac Myxoma, medical procedure is frequently expected to eliminate the cancer. Specialists cautiously remove the cancer to guarantee that blood stream inside the heart is not generally compromised. Early conclusion and convenient mediation are vital to forestalling further inconveniences. After the growth is taken out, patients by and large experience a huge improvement in their side effects and in general heart capability.

Exploring Complex Heart Surgery

The term Complex Heart Surgery alludes to cutting edge, high-risk methodology that imply many-sided procedure on the heart and its encompassing veins. These medical procedures frequently address numerous heart issues immediately or manage especially testing conditions, for example, innate heart surrenders, multi-vessel coronary course illness, or past bombed heart medical procedures.

Patients going through Complex Heart Surgery require a profoundly talented careful group and best in class clinical offices. These activities can incorporate systems like valve substitutions, sidestep medical procedures, and fix of intrinsic heart deserts. Given their intricacy, these medical procedures request broad preoperative preparation and postoperative consideration to guarantee a fruitful recuperation.

The Significance of Early Recognition and Treatment

Whether it's an Aneurysm Operation, the evacuation of a Cardiac Myxoma, or a Mind boggling Heart Medical procedure, early discovery is basic. Routine heart check-ups, high level imaging strategies, and perceiving side effects almost immediately can assist in diagnosing these circumstances before they become dangerous.

In the event that you're encountering any heart-related side effects, for example, chest torment, unexplained weakness, or trouble breathing, it's essential to quickly talk with a heart subject matter expert. Numerous heart conditions can be dealt with successfully with convenient clinical mediation, limiting long haul wellbeing gambles.

Conclusion

The heart is a fragile organ, and conditions like aneurysms, cardiovascular growths, and other complex issues require specific clinical consideration. Techniques like Aneurysm Operation, medical procedure for Cardiac Myxoma, and Complex Heart Surgery assume a fundamental part in treating these hazardous circumstances and reestablishing typical heart capability.

On the off chance that you or a friend or family member is confronting any of these circumstances, talking with a heart specialist is the most vital move towards powerful treatment and recuperation. Clinical progressions in heart medical procedures keep on developing, offering trust and further developed results for patients around the world.

[love-and-deepspace-wiki]

All About Zayne

All information sourced purely from official, in-game resources

Personal/Family Information:

Age: 27

Birthday: September 5th

Astrological sign: Virgo

Evol: Ice

Workplace: Akso Hospital

Family: (In the "World Underneath" story "Longly Flame", he mentions that both of his parents are doctors. And in his birthday event, he he receives an international parcel from them containing his birthday present. He goes on to state that both of his parents work for Doctors Worldwide, traveling to perilous locations around the world)

Update! Home Address: (Literally all I can find so far is that he lives near a mall lol)

Occupation(s):

Chief Surgeon of the Division of Cardiac Surgery

Lead researcher of the Evol-Cardiac Medical Laboratory (AEC)

PhD Advisor of the Skywalk University Medical School

Areas of Expertise:

Complex congenital heart defect corrective Surgery

Aortic valve regeneration and repair (Evol-based)

Atrial septal defect repair (Evol Intervention)

Evol-assisted heart valve repair

Heart transplant

Educational & Professional Timeline:

2035 - 2043:

Attended Skywalk University Medical School

Published more than 30 research papers as the first author in professional journals with an impact factor of over 9.0.

2043:

Obtained his MD from Skywalk University Medical School.

Started working in the Division of Cardiac Surgery at Linkon Central Hospital.

Served as an attending surgeon and chief medical officer.

2046:

Starcatcher Award

Received for his landmark contribution to lowering the prevalence of congenital Cardiac defects in newborns with his discovery that Evol genes affect the mutation rate in cells during heart development.

Linde Award

Received for successfully performing the very first aortic valve regeneration and repair operation with Evol technology

The youngest winner of the Linde Award

2048:

He was appointed as chief Surgeon of the Division of Cardiac Surgery at Linkon Central Hospital

Established the Evol-Cardiac Medical Laboratory, leading a number of research projects related to Cardiac function regulation and transformation by Evol.

Present time:

Serves as the chief of Surgery of the Division of Cardiac Surgery.

Serves as the lead researcher of the Evol-Cardiac Medical Laboratory (AEC).

Serves as the PhD Advisor of the Skywalk University Medical School.

[into-wonderland-caroline]

10/23/24

My father informed me today that when I was very young I became convinced that my dad's father was the goblin king

Which according to me meant that obviously batman was dad's brother

and logically that then meant my dad and the children he grew up with in the group home/orphanage were all X-Men

I apparently would tell anyone who would listen this whole story and demand they agree with me😅 I have no recollection of this but it is a very creative story🤷

[thru-the-looking-glass-caroline]

Reach out

Early this morning I received a message informing me that one of my friends and fellow dancers from the dance studio made an attempt to end her own life last night. Shock, disbelief, confusion and worry are swirling for me right now. I have so many questions like what the hell happened, what was going on for Erika that led her to this?

Thankfully Erika is still alive & currently in the hospital receiving medical attention and treatment. I know the holidays are extremely difficult for so many people & I don't know if that contributed to Erika's decision to attempt suicide but if you are reading this and struggling or lonely or stressed or feeling suicidal this holiday season please talk to someone. You can message me on either of my blogs (this one or my main one).

One thing I have gathered about Erika is whatever problems she was having she hid it & kept it all to herself- to deal with alone. Her family has told me that they never knew anything was wrong and that is the same for myself, & our other friends. I wish she would have talked to someone, talked to me. I know many people hesitate to reach out especially surrounding mental health problems but dealing alone comes at a major price and it's not helpful. Again, my inbox is open if you decide you don't want to first talk to someone directly in your life. I don't have any degrees or many answers but I can be here. This post is giving a PSA vibe but I wanted to put this out there. It's important.

[oneshotnewbie]

Hey, could you do an Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader where they are in the OR and one of the interns is just starring at Amelia the whole time and reader gets mad (reader is the head of cardiothoracic surgery and she and Amelia have been together for a long time now)

Authors note: I promised you, so here is a new story from me. I hope you like it & I'll try to post and write a little more from now on. I promise ♥

ᕚ---ᕘ

The fluorescent lights of the operating room cast harsh shadows on the concentrated faces of the medical team gathered around the operating table. The atmosphere was tense, the silence broken only by the quiet hum of medical equipment. Dr. Amelia Shepherd stood at the head of the table, her gaze focused on the tiny area of the brain she was trying to operate on with extreme precision. Next to her stood you, the head of cardiothoracic surgery, whose hands calmly and confidently guided the instruments to stabilize the patient's heart.

It was a highly complex operation in which every movement had to be precise to the millimeter in order to preserve the patient's life. The surgical light shone into the interior of the open chest, and despite the bright light and busy, intense activity of the situation, you noticed something unusual out of the corner of your eye.

One of the interns, a young doctor in training, who was attending the procedure didn't seem to have his attention focused on the operation, but instead stared steadily at Amelia. His looks weren't one of admiration for her surgical skills, but of something else - something you couldn't approve of.

A feeling of anger and annoyance rose within you as you noticed the inappropriate attention from him. Why couldn't he concentrate on his work and why did he have to stare at your partner like she was the only thing that mattered?

You felt your heart rate increase and you forced yourself to stay calm so as not to jeopardize the operation. But the sight of the intern looking at Amelia with obvious interest gnawed at her. Was it jealousy you felt? Or just annoyed at the lack of professionalism?

Determined to clarify the situation, you abruptly turned to the intern, your expression serious and stern. "Hey, eyes on the operation!" you snapped, your voice sharp and unmistakable. "Dr. Kwan, this is not an act, this is a vital operation. If you are unable to concentrate, please leave this operating room!"

The intern jumped as if snapped out of a daydream and quickly looked down, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, Dr. l/n. I'll concentrate on the operation immediately," he murmured before hastily shifting his gaze from the neurosurgeon and focusing back on his tasks.

You took a deep breath, your anger slowly fading as you saw the intern focusing back on his work. But the feeling of unrest remained. As you continued to run the operation, you felt a pang of worry in your heart. Was there more to your emotional outburst - an unpleasant hint of jealousy that you couldn't ignore? Was your relationship really as strong as it seemed, or would the shadows of insecurity and jealousy tear you apart before you even had a chance to grow closer?

The situation in the operating room became increasingly complicated when Dr. Kwan continued to stare at Amelia with inappropriate looks minutes later instead of concentrating on his work. Despite your previous admonition, the young doctor seemed unable to take his eyes off the brunette, and this distraction was beginning to negatively impact the quality of the operation.

Suddenly, in the middle of an intense moment, the monitors around you started beeping wildly and a critical condition jeopardized the entire course of the operation when the intern made a mistake. The patient's vital signs spiraled out of control when an important instrument slipped from his hand, further aggravating the patient's already weakened condition.

"Damn, we're losing him! Y/n, talk to me, what happened?" Amelia shouted, desperately trying to control her position on the brain. The brunette felt the pressure in your body rising as the entire team around you reacted frantically, feeding you everything you needed to avert the impending loss of the patient. "Pericardium was injured. I'm trying to repair it."

You didn't have time to talk. You reacted quickly and precisely, your hands working to the rhythm of a well-oiled mechanism as any professional duty outweighed any personal sentiments. But despite your quick efforts, the patient's condition didn't seem to be improving. Time seemed to stand still as you found yourself in a desperate fight to save the life of the person lying on the operating table in front of you.

Minutes passed, but for you and Amelia it felt like an eternity. The exertion and stress began to take its toll, but you continued to fight, every move crucial before another unexpected complication arose, making the situation even more desperate. An artery that was directly underneath where the instrument slipped began to bleed uncontrollably, and the blood streamed into the surgical area, dangerously close to the patient's heart.

"Damned!" you scolded, pushing the intern, who was still standing at your side in shock, out of the way to give you more space. "Y/n, you can do it. Keep a calm head, you know how it works. You're the best in your field." Your partner spoke calmly and you took a deep breath before sharpening your focus, her voice and words always keeping you at bay.

You worked feverishly to control the bleeding while the neurosurgeon tried to continue the brain procedure. Time seemed to continue to stretch and distort, each second becoming an eternity as you were caught in a desperate dance between life and death.

Despite all the odds, you didn't give up. You continued to fight, your hands melding together in a choreographed dance of survival. And amidst the chaos and hustle and bustle, you finally managed to stop the bleeding and save the patient from imminent death.

But the anger towards the intern was bubbling inside you. When the immediate danger had passed and you could turn your attention back to the root cause of the operation, you turned your burning anger on the young doctor.

"What the hell are you thinking, acting like a schoolboy in love while we're here fighting for someone's life?" you shouted at Dr. Kwan, your voice filled with a mixture of anger and disappointment. "You have a responsibility to this patient and the entire medical team, and your unprofessional attitude of pandering on my wife not only endangered his life, but also the career of everyone in this room!"

The young doctor lowered his eyes in shame, his cheeks once again coloring with shame. "I'm sorry, Dr. l/n. I was careless and it won't happen again." he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Damn right it won't. For the time being, you won't be able to see the inside of an operating room anymore." You spoke, taking a deep breath, your anger slowly giving way to exhaustion as you felt the tension inside you slowly release. You turned back to the patient, your mind focused on the final task in front of you as you ordered the intern to leave the room.

In the hours that followed, Amelia and you worked tirelessly to continue to keep the patient stable and ensure he would survive the surgery. And as the first signs of success appeared and the monitors flashed gently in confirmation, you felt a moment of gratitude.

But amidst the triumph of saving someone's life also lay an uncomfortable realization - that the lines between professional duty and personal emotions could sometimes become blurred, and that life's challenges exist not only in the operating room but also in the relationships between people.