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kimaixun · 1 year ago

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[After Office Hours] - [SKZ Yang Jeongin x M!Reader]

“Push 1 mil of epi. Charge to 120, clear!”

“You’re under arrest for attempted homicide!”

“Fire Department! Call out!”

“5,6,7,8 Music Start!”

The profession that we chose will always be the rollercoaster in our life. Be it an artist, a singer, a writer, a firefighter, a police and many more others. Each and every personnel in this world go through their own way. This was a story of two doctors, successful in their own sectors, one a cardiologist, the other a neurologist. Both worked in the same hospital, under the same boss, nothing really special except for the fact, they can never be in the same room.

Their names are Yang JeongIn and F/N M/N. Yang JeongIn was a child prodigy, following after his father footstep. He skipped a few grades, got himself into Harvard and on his way to medical school. He graduated successfully with flying colours and one would be proud of where he stood.

F/N M/N on the other hand came from the Guryong slum, a place where has long been seen as symbol of the gap between the rich and the poor in South Korea. M/N wasn’t born wealthy but, he did made it though blood, sweat and tears to where he is right now.

M/N and JeongIn met years ago, on their first year of resident. They hated each other’s gut, so much that they won’t stand a minute in a trauma room alone without killing each other. There was once when the two fought with an open patient on the operating table, almost causing a death because they didn’t realise the patient SATS were dropping in the midst of their argument. Every since then, the entire hospital knew never to put them on one case unless it was a life and death situation.

“Dr Kwan, you might want to write the following. I need an hourly Neuro check for bed 42, Mdm Lee. Make sure the post ops reports are updated by the end of the night and also, for bed 35, once the glucose level is on a standard level, you may proceed to remove the drip.” Dr Yang JeongIn, commanded his intern as they walked down the busy hallways of the hospital.

“Yes sir. It will done and dusted,” Dr Kwan, the intern saluted the doctor before parting ways.

“So, Dr Yang, it’s Friday night. TGIF. Wanna go to the club?” Kim SeungMin, a fellow doctor, asked the other as they stood beside each other at the nurse station.

JeongIn huffed and rolled his eyes, “it’s Friday, yes, TGIF but tomorrow is also my day off for the week. So I would like to drink champagne in bed as I fall asleep for the rest of the night peacefully.”

“Boooooringggg.” SeungMin pretended to yawn. “Anyways, wanna hear some gossips?”

“We are doctors, Hyung. Surgeons, not high schoolers, do we really have to gossip?”

SeungMin giggled and link an arm across JeongIn’s shoulder, “this time, yes. It’s about Dr F/N. I heard he is seeing Dr Adams, the intern.”

JeongIn quickly turned his head to the other, “what?” As much as he wanted to keep his composure, he couldn’t help but got his interest attracted.

“I was walking by the intern’s locker room and Dr Adams was announcing to the others about having pinned to the door by Dr F/N and he said, I quote ‘he’s a beast’.” SeungMin whispered.

“Who’s a beast?” Dr F/N M/N grinned as he popped beside his rival, JeongIn, passing some case files to the nurse.

“That’s my queue to leave. See ya around JeongIn.” SeungMin quickly turned to leave the two.

“Hi, Dr Yang.” M/N greeted the other, trying to ignore the fact that he could see steam rising above his head.

“Interns? Really?!” JeongIn glared at the other before smacking a case file to M/N’s chest before pushing pass the latter, bumping their shoulder hard that M/N swore it was going to drop off. M/N watches as JeongIn walks away.

“Seriously? Just a minute. A minute of you guys standing beside each other and you already wanna have each others throat?” Staff Nurse Lee MinHo shook his head appearing beside M/N.

“I said, ‘Hi’ and all he replied me was ‘Interns? Really?!’. I am confused because hell I don’t even know who the hell are the interns around here. I barely walk around the hallways during office hours and hell, I barely speak to anyone except you guys.” M/N ranted, “I said ‘Hi, Dr Yang’, I greeted him but, he looked like he was a sauna. He was FUMING.”

“One day, I just might lock the both of you in a room. Who knows you guys might just come out with little M/N’s and JeongIn’s.”

“Soon.” M/N muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” M/N smiled, “I am officially off shift. It’s already after office hours for me but, I’ll be in the on-call room so, Hyung, please don’t let anyone enter it.”

“You know, it’s after office hours already so, you can go home,” MinHo said.

“TGIF Hyung. I’m waiting for my date.” M/N reasoned and walked away.

“Date?” MinHo asked in confusion, “wait, did you say date?!”

Meanwhile, in the Emergency Room, Yang JeongIn stared into the case file mindlessly. SeungMin’s words was roaming around his head about M/N and the intern. It couldn’t be through right? M/N wouldn’t date an intern. M/N barely walks around the hospital how could he know Dr Adams in the first place?

“Earth to Dr Yang,” Staff Nurse Han JiSung, waved his hand around in front of the doctor. “Shouldn’t you be off shift already? It’s 8pm.”

JeongIn looked to the clock and silently cursed. He was late, very late. The doctor quickly whipped out his phone seeing a few text messages from a certain someone.

‘I swear I don’t understand what you just said’

‘I beg you to explain to me please’

‘I love you, only you okay?’

‘I’ll be waiting.’

‘Where are you? Caught up on a case?’

‘Im at the lobby.’

‘Im still here.’

‘Love?’

“I need a doctor here!” A nurse called out as she pushed a middle aged man on a wheelchair into the ER. The Man was restrained to it as he yelled, struggling to break free.

“Trauma three.” JeongIn beckoned the nurse as he ran to them.

“Alex McAlester. Aged 35, the taxi driver drove him here when he started to experience nauseous and dizziness whilst on his way to the airport. He became delirious and aggressive after so.” The Nurse explained.

“Sir, my name is Yang JeongIn, I’m a doctor here, I’m going to help you but, you need to calm down.” JeongIn said. The man looked at him confused, despite the angered expression that he had. “I’m going to remove your restraints so, calm down. You are in good hands.”

JeongIn proceeded to untie one of the restraints off the man. At first the man was calmed, until JeongIn proceeded to remove the second restraints was when hell broke loose. Everything happened so fast. One second he saw the man grabbing the metal IV stand aiming towards him and the next, he was pulled back into someone’s embrace.

“No. One. Touches. My. Husband.”

As if the time had stopped, JeongIn felt his heart pounding against his chest. He looked up to see none other than his husband, F/N M/N hugging him so tightly, almost knocking the breath out of him with one hand, while the other had stopped the IV pole aimed to him.

“Get security.” M/N told the Nurse as Dr Seo ChangBin, one of their colleague and himself went to restraint the patient onto the bed again. JeongIn felt heat rushing to his cheeks as he exited the room.

“Did I just see what I just saw?” Staff Nurse MinHo eyes widened, “did he just said husband and saved you from that man like some sort of fairytale?” He scooted over to JeongIn. “You are the date?”

“What date?”

“M/N ended shift like hours ago but, insisted to be in the on-call room then he mentioned that he was waiting for his date. Now that whatever happened in front of happened, it means you are the date.” MinHo simply explained. “Are you okay?”

“I’m o—, Woah.” JeongIn was cut off when M/N exited the room, cupping his face and scanned through his body.

“Are you hurt? Did he touch you? Are you okay?”

“Im feim if yum stophw squshming maaai faceeuuu,” JeongIn mumbled.

“Oh thank goodness you are okay. My heart stopped for a second.” M/N sighed in relieve, “love, you didn’t reply my text, I got worried so I just had to come down here to find you.”

“Love?” MinHo smirked.

“We agreed to announce to the chief first.” JeongIn pouted.

“I know but, well, you can’t blame me. It’s after office hours and technically both of us are off duty.” M/N said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I promise I am. Thank you for saving me.” JeongIn added, “I am mad at you actually. There’s rumours going around that you’re sleeping with Dr Adams.”

“Oh that!” MinHo interjected, “no no Dr Yang. You got it all wrong. The Dr Adams was referring to was the doctor who has the same name as Dr F/N. His a peds doctor. Not your man. Hell, I doubt half the hospital has knows what F/N even looked like. He barely spent his time outside of the OR.”

M/N chuckled, “and so now, we know. Are you still mad?”

“I’m Sorry,” JeongIn muttered feeling so flustered to jump into conclusion.

“It’s okay love.” M/N smiled, planting a quick kiss to JeongIn’s forehead.

“So, anyone wanna explain what is going on with this?” MinHo flailing his hand to the two of them, “just a few hours ago, or at least for as long as you’ve been here, the two of you are on each other throat. I thought one day you might really kill each other.”

“M/N and I are married. We have been for awhile now. The whole rivalry, hating thing is just a norm to us.” JeongIn explained.

“Thus, work is work. Love is love. To which why we invented our ‘after office hours’ rule.” M/N added.

“Why wasn’t I invited? I’m hurt.” MinHo gasped dramatically.

“Cause we hated each other so much and it’s fun to see all of you suffer when you are under our service.”

MinHo rolled his eyes “You guys are an evil couple.”

“We know.” M/N grinned as he links an arm across his husband’s shoulders, planting a kiss to JeongIn’s head. “Shall we go? I planned a date for us.“

“Okay sweetie.” JeongIn tiptoed to kiss M/N’s cheek.

“Disgustingly sweet.” MinHo fake gagged causing the two doctors to laugh wholeheartedly.

#kpop x male reader #malereader #stray kids x male reader #straykidsxmalereader #stray kids #yang jeongin #skz jeongin #skz x reader #skz fanfic #doctor au

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the-guilty-writer · 2 years ago

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Meal Prep

Request from @lubunnii: Not going anon for this one. This is purely self indulgent,

Rossi’s child is underweight (not an ED or anything) and because of their anxiety they don’t really have an appetite.

That’s all I got, you can add more to that if you want.

David Rossi x teen!reader

Summary: Preparation of food is a sign of love in your family, so when your anxiety makes your stomach churn, your dad prepares you something special.

A/N: Thank you for this request! Hopefully it is what you were looking for. My ANS sucks so I understand the loss of appetite thing and sometimes a smoothie is all I can manage to get down so that's the first thing that came to mind.

CW: reader has a hard time eating due to anxiety, reader is underweight, doctors don't take reader seriously, lots of talk about eating and food and feeling sick

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You didn’t hate food. How could you when you grew up in the Rossi household? A place where meals were made with passion, following recipes that had been passed down for generations which brought people together time and time again. The careful preparation of dishes and gathering to eat together was part of the way your dad expressed love. He’d go to the local grocery stores to pick out the finest ingredients and then spend hours in the kitchen cooking for the two of you, making sure everything was perfetto.

But good god your anxiety was a bitch. The underlying sensation of stress that caused your entire body to shake under the skin and your heart rate to rise also made you sick to your stomach. The nervous churning of your insides and the unsettled nature of your gut made you too nauseous to eat anything. Sometimes you could manage something easy on your stomach- a cup of plain yogurt with some fruit, half a granola bar, or a few bites of lightly buttered pasta if you were lucky- but some days you woke up feeling as thought you might vomit if you even smelled food.

And it really really sucked.

Your doctor had told you that you needed to eat more. Your weight had dropped below what was healthy, but all the M.D. did was write you a prescription for some prozac and send you on your way. You’d go back in a few months just to find out that your body still couldn’t keep on weight and be switched to a different SSRI that wouldn’t do any good in fixing the problem. Any request you made for anti-nausea medication would be denied due to the fact that you “just needed to relax” or “learn to meditate” or some other stupid passive gaslighting excuse a medical professional could come up with.

You laid on your bed, hoping that the nausea would subside soon so you could get something- anything- in your stomach. Despite your lack of appetite all you really wanted right now was to be able to enjoy the extravagant pasta dish your dad was preparing in the kitchen at the moment. The thought of missing out on it made you upset, but the thought of joining in made you want to vomit.

“Polpette! Dinner is ready!” your dad called from downstairs.

Years ago your nickname- meatball- would have made you smile. It was your favorite food when you were a little kid and it still was, but now hearing it just made you sad. Your stomach couldn’t handle the rich, hand-molded, mouth-watering food anymore.

You sighed and got out of bed, exhausted from your constant underlying unease and lack of fuel from being unable to consume more than a few hundred calories at a time. When you reached the kitchen, your dad welcomed you with his warmest smile.

“We have options tonight!” he said. Since Garcia got him into meal prepping, he’d often spend his days off making multiple dishes that could be reheated easily if he was in a rush. David Rossi wouldn’t be caught dead buying take out. “There is simple lasagne, spinach and cheese ravioli, chicken tetrazzini, and your great grandmother’s carbonara!”

The smell of the dishes hit your nose and your face warped as the idea of ingesting anything made you want to gag. You weighed your options.

“I- um.” You felt your face twist even more. “I don’t think-”

You felt panic rise in your chest, your hands shaking and your stomach churning. Tears began to flood your eyes and you shut them tight to keep them from falling.

Rossi was next to you in a second, wrapping you in a fierce hug. “It’s okay.”

“No it’s not, dad,” there was a hitch in your voice. “I want to eat but I feel so sick every time I think about it.”

Rossi placed a kiss on top of your head. “Go sit in the living room. I’ll be there in a minute, okay?”

You nodded and your dad wiped away your tears before you left the kitchen to sit in the living space. You curled up on the sofa, hugging your knees to your chest and leaning your head back against the couch cushions, willing your stomach to settle.

A few minutes later your dad walked into the living room and sat down next to you; he was holding a cup of something with a straw poking out the top. “Here,” he said, holding the straw for you. “Have some of this.”

You slowly sipped from the straw, a not-too-sweet liquid filling your mouth. It was a smoothie- strawberry and blueberry if you had to guess. The ache in your stomach calmed just a little as you swallowed the liquid mixture. Your dad rubbed your back with his free hand and you took another small sip.

“There you go,” Rossi said quietly. You leaned into him and he put the smoothie down on the coffee table to wrap you in a hug. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better,” you said. It was true- your dad knew exactly what you needed at that moment. It wasn’t a heavy dish that he had spent hours preparing, pouring his heart and generations of your family’s cooking techniques into in an effort to make it the most mouth-watering and flavorful meal on the planet; it was some fruit and ice cubes in a blender.

“Good,” Rossi said. He squeezed you gently around the shoulders. “We’re going to figure this out, alright? But until then I’ll do my best to make things easy for you.”

“Okay,” you whispered, thankful for your father’s understanding.

For the next hour, the two of you watched TV, him helping you take small sips of the smoothie between long stretches of time so you didn’t make yourself sick. It wasn’t until you almost finished the drink and he tucked you in bed that he went back to the kitchen to make a pitcher of the mixture in the hopes that you could drink some of it throughout the day tomorrow.

Perhaps it wasn’t the ingredients or the hours that made food special, but the thought and love behind it.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #david rossi #rossi x daughter!reader #rossi x child!reader #david rossi x daughter!reader #david rossi x child!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

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crystalninjaphoenix · 3 months ago

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Determined to Endure

Switch AU

A JSE Fanfic

A shorter chapter for today. I've been surprisingly busy this week... or maybe just tired lol. In any case, the IRIS arc continues! This time we're focusing on Jackie, Marvin, and Anti. Jackie is approached with a deal, but he tries to find a way around it. Meanwhile, Anti starts to hatch a plan, and Marvin gets taken somewhere for mysterious, but probably not good, reasons. A short summary for a short chapter. I hope you guys enjoy!

More of This AU | | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Read on AO3 under CrystalNinjaPhoenix

Jackie had been pretty much stuck in this room for days. He was going a little bit crazy from the lack of interaction. C&C guards showed up for each meal, dropping off food, but they might as well have been robots for how much they responded to him. The longer he was stuck in here, the more tempting it was to hit one of them with a chair and scream at them to answer him. He didn’t think that being stuck in here was worse than his time spent with Distorter, but it was still awful being trapped in here.

After what felt like ages, something different finally happened. Jackie was lying face-down on the bed when he heard the door open. He assumed that it was meal time, so he didn’t even bother to lift his head. Until... “Dr. Parker?”

“Huh?!” Jackie’s head shot up. He looked over to the side and saw someone sitting at the table. Daniel, the doctor who’d talked to him when he first woke up in IRIS. The door was already closed again. “What are you—You’re back now all of a sudden?!”

“Hello again, Dr. Parker,” Daniel said calmly. “I’m sorry about the long stretch of time without anyone checking in on you.”

Jackie rolled his eyes.

“Please, come over so we can talk,” Daniel continued.

Sighing, Jackie stood up and walked over to the other chair, sitting down across from Daniel. “What?” he snapped.

“Don’t be so hostile, Jackie,” Daniel said.

“You’ve locked me in a room while you’re experimenting on my friends! I have the right to be a bit fucking hostile!”

Daniel paused. “We don’t want you to be hurt, you know.”

“But my friends are fair game, then?” Jackie muttered.

“No, we don’t want them to be hurt, either,” Daniel said.

“...I just—” Jackie shook his head. “I just frankly don’t believe you.”

Daniel clasped his hands together and smiled, trying to look friendly. “I understand why you wouldn’t. But trust me when I say that everything we’re doing here is necessary. We want this to be as easy for all of you as possible. So if there’s anything you can tell us to help make them comfortable, it would be greatly appreciated.”

Jackie tensed immediately. “You—y-you want information from me?” he whispered.

“No, not in the way you’re thinking,” Daniel said. “Jackie, you have the ability to help your friends right now. For example, we know that Schneeplestein suffers from some sort of psychosis, and we can figure out his medication, but we don’t know if there’s anything that will upset him—”

“This whole thing is something that’ll ‘upset’ him!” Jackie growled.

“Alright, let’s start with that,” Daniel said. “What specifically would get to him?”

“Being fucking trapped? I—I-I can’t believe that you all don’t realize this! I can’t believe that I was part of this fucking company!”

Daniel was quiet for a while. “Dr. Parker,” he finally said seriously. “If you don't help us take care of your friends, they will not be helped at all.”

Jackie blinked. “Is that... a threat?”

“It is a fact. We do not know anything about them. Not really. We know facts that we found, but we don’t know about their personalities or emotional needs. You have been the friendliest of them so far—” As Daniel said that, Jackie barely managed to hold himself back from saying ‘I wonder why?!’ “—so you are the only one we can approach with questions. We would hate for your friends to suffer more than necessary. For example, Marvin Moore has some sort of chronic fatigue, yes? If we push him too far, that fatigue might become pain.”

Jackie went pale. That certainly sounded like a threat. “Wh-what are you guys going to do, that would—that would hurt him?”

“That’s the point, we don’t know,” Daniel emphasized. “But you could help us, and help him by proxy.” He leaned forward. “Who knows what might happen if you stay silent.”

“Y-you... you can’t...” Jackie swallowed a lump in his throat. He wanted to refuse to help IRIS. But... part of him couldn’t help but worry. What if Daniel was right? What if his friends ended up more hurt because he didn’t say anything?

Then he thought about what the others would say if they knew he’d told IRIS anything about them. Much less if IRIS used information he’d given them against his friends. Anti and Schneep would be pissed, Marvin probably would too... JJ would be kind about it, but he’d no doubt feel betrayed. He didn’t think that any of the guys would hold it against him for too long, but he would feel terrible knowing what he’d done, how he’d made them feel.

At the same time, he didn’t want to anger IRIS... just in case. Maybe he could pretend to cooperate? “Wh-what do you want to know?” he asked slowly.

“Tell us about your friend Marvin,” Daniel said. “Does he have any special requirements?”

“Um... h-he usually needs support to walk,” Jackie said slowly. “It helps keep him from getting tired.”

“I see. We believe he doesn’t have any anomalous abilities, is that correct?”

Jackie nodded. “Yeah. He’s just a guy.”

Daniel frowned doubtfully. He glanced at the camera in the corner—wait, shit, those are the WTCHR cameras! They’re able to detect lying! Did they know he wasn’t being entirely sincere in his responses? Well they probably knew he was panicking now, at least!

“And what about your anomalous friend?” Daniel asked. “Our medical scans have shown that his throat is damaged.”

“JJ?” Jackie paused, trying to slow down his thoughts to piece together a response that wouldn’t give away too much information. “He—yes, Distorter attacked him. He probably would’ve died if... a friend hadn’t intervened.”

“Is ALTR 53815-A related to his anomalous abilities?” Daniel asked.

“N-no, he just... has that, I think...” Don’t imply magicians exist, don’t imply magicians exist, don’t imply—

Daniel nodded slowly. “Were any of your friends in possession of any anomalous items?”

Jackie laughed, trying to sound lighthearted and not nervous. “I think I’d know about that,” he said, choosing his words carefully. It’s not an outright denial or agreement, but it should imply something. Don’t mention the cards, don’t mention the cards— “Besides, this—that question isn’t related to helping my friends, is it?”

“Well, if your friends have been exposed to any anomalous items they could still be suffering from the effect of—” Daniel paused. His hand went up to his ear for a second. Did he have some sort of earpiece? If he did, it must have been very small, because Jackie couldn’t see it. “...Perhaps we should be frank with you,” Daniel said. “We recovered strange playing cards from one of your friends. Marvin, I believe?”

“...oh?” Jackie instinctively wanted to tense up, but he forced himself to stay relaxed.

“We separated them from him,” Daniel said. “And yet, even after we did that, Marvin has been showing strange, anomalous properties.”

Jackie sat up straight. “Huh? What sort of properties?”

“He seemingly appeared out of nowhere,” Daniel said. “But on closer inspection, it seems as though he entered some sort of time lag.”

“Time what?”

“You’re familiar with lag in a video game, yes?” Daniel said. “When it stutters and glitches. Sometimes in a game with multiple people, someone who’s lagging can appear to phase through objects or appear out of nowhere. Your friend Marvin briefly entered a state similar to that in reality.”

“...huh.” Jackie leaned back. “I... don’t know anything about that. I’m... sorry.” He paused. “Maybe it’s... caused by the anomalous cards? Did you all do something to them when you took them from him?”

Daniel shook his head. “The cards did enter a strange state, but it happened on its own, not because of anything we did.”

Jackie wasn’t sure he believed that. But he didn’t think Daniel would lie about the ‘time lag.’ It was such a specific thing. What happened? Had Marvin cast some sort of spell with his cards before they all got knocked out by IRIS? “I don’t know anything about that,” Jackie repeated.

Daniel looked at him quietly for a moment. Scanned him with his eyes. Jackie swallowed a lump in his throat and stared back. After a moment, Daniel nodded. “Alright. Let’s continue. Now, your friend... ‘Anti,’ he’s called. We couldn’t find any legal records of his birth name, which is actually extraordinary in a way. Do you know anything about him that we should know?”

Jackie hesitated. “Um.. no... not really...” He wondered how Anti was getting along, actually. He hadn’t been reacting to the situation well in that brief moment he last saw him...

———————

This camera was made of fucking rock.

Anti had thought he’d be able to move it slightly—it seemed to be built on a hinge or a swivel so it could scan his room. If he could just jam it or something—but noooo, this might as well have been a solid piece of plastic for all it could move.

Biting back a growl of frustration, he carefully climbed down from the chair. He’d dragged it over beneath the camera so they couldn’t see him—he was fairly sure this spot directly under it was a blind spot—but they could probably still hear him. He had to be extra cautious so they wouldn’t catch on and stop him. No weird sounds or sudden movements. He’d even taken his shoes off so his footsteps would be quieter.

Back on solid ground again, he sat down heavily on the chair, leaning back, tilting his head up so he was looking at the underside of the camera. Maybe if he had some sort of tool... Maybe the next time they came to get him for one of those fucked-up experiments—because he was sure there would be another one of those—he could try to grab something.

But he had no idea how long that would be.

Patient. He had to be patient. He had to not lose his fucking mind like he did before. That’d be... difficult. But he could try. For his friends.

———————

Marvin was trying to nap when the door opened. He sat up straight immediately, and saw a pair of guards enter the room. “Wh-what is this?” he asked, voice showing more fear than he wanted. He still vividly remembered all the strangeness surrounding the last time they showed up to take him somewhere. Putting aside the accidental happenings with his failed escape attempt and his cards, there was... that experiment. He shuddered just recalling the daze he’d been in, the way Anti kept trying to reach out to him, but his voice had sounded so distant...

Without saying a word, the guards walked towards him. “Whoa, h-hey, back up!” Marvin scrambled backwards, but he was cornered. The guards grabbed him roughly by the shirt, ignoring his yelp, and dragged him off the bed, where they adjusted their hold so they were gripping his arms. Then they marched out of the room. In the hallway outside there was another pair of guards. They said nothing to each other, just walked down the hall, pulling Marvin with them.

“H-hey, is t’is abou’ what happened last time?” Marvin asked nervously. “You—t’ere’s no hard feelin’s, righ’?”

The guards didn’t say anything. But their tight grip on his arms felt personal, somehow.

They dragged him in the same direction he’d escaped before—going through the set of double doors into that white-walled highway, and then down to the elevator at the end. One of the guards took out a keycard and scanned it before pressing a button to call the elevator. Marvin briefly considered trying to break free while they were waiting—but then one of the guards casually took something off his belt and pointed it at Marvin. He froze. That couldn’t be a real gun. Or at least, not one that shot bullets. But it probably shot something nasty nonetheless. The implication was clear. He was not to escape.

When the elevator arrived, the guards dragged him in and quickly pressed the button second from the top. The doors closed, and Marvin tried to push back the sense of finality that came with that.

The ride was short. Soon, the elevator stopped and the guards pulled Marvin out onto a new floor. One which, bizarrely enough, reminded Marvin of a hospital. He wasn’t sure why. There was just something in the plaster walls and tile floor that caused the feeling. Maybe part of the reason was because, unlike the other floor, the elevator here opened onto an open space instead of a hallway. A big square room, with a corridor on the walls left, right, and ahead. The central area of the room had a bunch of desks with computers.

The walls of the room also had some windowed sections, and some glass doors. Marvin glanced into the nearest one. Ah—there were smaller rooms lining this larger one, and the glass walls and doors let the people in the main room look into them. For some reason, his first thought was ‘it’s like a zoo.’ A bunch of terrariums for people to gawk at.

Which meant his stomach dropped when the guards started dragging him towards one of these smaller rooms. Inside he could see a table and two chairs across from each other, just like the setup in his room. “Wh-what is t’is?” Marvin asked, voice cracking slightly. “What are you goin’ t’do to me?!”

The guards remained silent. The one with the keycard pulled it out again, scanning it on a spot next to the glass door. There was a beep, and another guard reached forward to slide it open while the other two dragged Marvin into the room. They forcefully sat him down on one of the chairs and grabbed his arms, shoving his hands down on the table. There was a pair of handcuffs attached to the surface. “H-hey, let’s—” he started to say, but while he was talking the guards already snapped the manacles onto his wrists. They were cold and tight. He tested the strength of them, but of course he wasn’t nearly strong enough to break the chain.

And then the guards left. But Marvin could see them still hovering around outside through the glass wall. No doubt doing their job and guarding him. But... there was no one else in sight. Nobody was here to observe whatever test was going to happen. There wasn’t even a camera in the room.

Marvin could only sit there and wonder.

———————

Anti had wondered when his sitting under the camera would draw attention. Well, it turned out, it didn’t take long. Or maybe the guards walking into the room were coincidental. Either way, he sat up straight when they appeared. “Subject, why are you sitting in the corner?” One asked.

“Trying to avoid you all staring at me,” Anti grumbled.

The three guards in the room exchanged glances. Then two of them walked forward and unceremoniously grabbed Anti, yanking him upwards. He growled, but fought the urge to struggle. He was trying to play nice to get on IRIS’s good side, wasn’t he? But it was hard to just stay quiet and let the guards manhandle him down the hallway.

They took him to the same room as last time, but now the setup was different. Instead of the U-shape of desks and that weird stone tablet in the center, there were about four loose desks all set up around a central chair with straps. Now that—that he couldn’t just go quietly into, as panic immediately kicked his fight or flight instinct into gear. Anti tried to struggle, pulling against the grip of the guards. And—he actually managed to pull an arm free! He wasn’t about to question it! He punched the other guard in the face and bolted forward.

But then—

Something pierced his side and a jolt of pain spread outwards from that spot. Anti screamed, recognizing the feeling. A taser! No! He had to—get away!

He threw himself forward, but only managed to crash into one of the desks, jittering on the floor aimlessly. Some junk from the desk fell to the ground around him. A few pens, a set of keys, some paperclips, and... one of those L-shaped bits of metal, what were they called? An allen wrench.

As the pain from the shock faded, and the guards bent down to grab Anti, an idea hit him. He scrambled forwards, pretending that he was trying to get away from the guards, but while he was moving he put his hand on top of the allen wrench and quickly curled his fingers around it. Maybe this was the tool he needed! It’d be better than trying to mess with the camera with his bare hands, at least.

The guards grabbed him, hoisting him up and pulling him towards the chair with straps in the center of the room. And that’s when Anti realized he couldn’t just hold the wrench in his hand the whole time. They’d notice it! And he could let go of it and lose it easily! His mind scrambled for a solution to this, and the answer it reached might’ve been less than ideal. Anti pulled his arm free again and ducked his head, pretending like he was gearing up for a big escape attempt—but actually shoved the wrench in his mouth.

Smack! One of the guards hit him in the side of the head. Anti cried out—but managed to keep the wrench hidden, partially beneath his tongue. Good. Good, that’s... all he needed. He could slump into the chair now. He didn’t even have the energy to bristle indignantly when the guards pulled the straps across his wrists and chest.

He leaned back, breathing slowly. Okay. He just needed to make it through whatever they had planned for him. He saw a door on the side of the room open and some people in white coats walk in and over to the desks. One of them grumbled something and bent over, scooping up the junk that Anti had knocked over in his struggle. He waited, tense, but the scientist didn’t seem to notice the missing wrench. And neither did the guards or any of the other scientists. They were all busy starting out their test, flipping switches and pressing buttons on strange instruments sitting on the desks.

Anti closed his eyes. He didn’t want to know what they were doing. Even as a strange humming sound started up, he didn’t want to know. He just had to endure whatever was going to happen now.

———————

Marvin felt like he’d been waiting in the room for hours. He’d fiddled with the chains on the handcuffs repeatedly, but found there was no wiggle room at all. The metal cuffs were basically skin tight, and he hated them.

As time passed, more people showed up in the other, bigger room. Most of them were wearing white coats: more scientists. Many of them gave him constant glances, and some stared at him outright. He resolved to not look at them in turn... but his nerves about this whole situation meant his eyes kept wandering in that direction, locking onto their every movement, despite what he actually wished.

But then, while watching—

“Jackie!” Marvin gasped.

The elevator doors opened and Jackie walked out, escorted by more guards. He saw Marvin shortly after Marvin saw him, and stumbled in surprise. The two of them stared at each other. They hadn’t seen each other once since they’d been taken to IRIS.

Then the guards, frustrated, grabbed Jackie and started pulling him towards the room where Marvin was sitting. He quickly started walking again, keeping pace with the guards. They took him to the room where Marvin was sitting, scanning the keycard and opening the door, walking in with him. “Marvin, are you alright?” Jackie asked hurriedly. “You’re not hurt or anything are you?!”

“No, Jackie, I’m fine,” Marvin reassured him. “I-I haven’t seen any of you, other t’an Anti. Are you alrigh’?”

“You saw Anti?” Jackie repeated. “I-I did too, for a moment, we both got moved to different rooms.”

“Yeah I heard t’at happenin’ nearby.”

“Dr. Parker, sit down,” said one of the guards.

Jackie glanced at them uneasily, but reluctantly sat down in the chair on the other side of the table. The guards picked up a second pair of handcuffs and chained him down as well. “I’m... fine by the way,” Jackie said quietly. “Just been stuck in a room for days. When did you see Anti?”

Marvin leaned forward. “T’ese bastards did somet’ing to us.” He explained the experiment as quickly as he could. While he did that, the guards retreated from the room, leaving just the two of them inside. Scientists in white coats wandered over, staring at the two of them through the window, holding clipboards and electronic tablets.

Jackie shivered. “That’s terrible.”

“I-I still don’ know why they did it,” Marvin said quietly.

“I’m guessing that weird tablet was somehow similar to Distorter,” Jackie said. “Or... the house on Aspen Street. They wanted to see how you’d react to something similar, since you a-and Anti were most... affected by Distorter.”

“Most affected?! You got trapped in there for nine focking months!”

Jackie smiled darkly. “Yeah... but that was a while ago, compared to you two.”

Marvin nodded. “I s’ppose... w-well, anyt’ing else you have to share?”

“I saw that this is the top floor of five, so our cells are probably on the ground to third floor,” Jackie said. “Or there might be a basement, but I doubt that we’re on that floor. That might be where Volt and JJ are, though.”

“Okay... so—”

A screeching sound filled the room. Jackie winced, and Marvin cried out and tried to cover his ears, but his arms couldn’t move that far while chained to the table. What was that? Some sort of... feedback?

“Hello Dr. Parker,” a voice said from an intercom.

Jackie started. “Daniel?”

“You know t’at voice?” Marvin asked, surprised.

“K-kinda, vaguely,” Jackie said. “From when I was uh... employed here. We talked a couple times.”

“Enough times t’be on a first-name basis?”

“Dr. Parker, IRIS is very disappointed in you,” Daniel continued. “We had offered you a way to help everyone, but you rejected it, lying to our faces.”

Jackie stiffened. “Shiiiit.”

“Huh? What?” Marvin looked around. The scientists on the other side of the glass walls gave no acknowledgement to them. But they had to hear what was happening, right? This glass didn’t seem soundproof.

“During our talk this morning, you denied all knowledge of the anomalous cards found on Mr. Moore’s person. But this was clearly a falsehood.”

“They asked you about my cards?!” Marvin gasped.

“IRIS is very disappointed,” Daniel repeated. “You could have helped us in so much.”

“V-vague promises of help aren’t enough to sway me,” Jackie said nervously.

Part of the ceiling lowered, a circular glass tube. Inside of it was—

“My cards!” Marvin gasped. He stood up and reached for them, but they remained above his head, well out of reach of his chained hand

“The room you’re in is currently being monitored for signs of any anomalies,” Daniel said. “If something strange happens, we will know. And if it’s something dangerous, we have the ability to stop it.” The bottom of the glass tube slid open and the cards fluttered down to the table—luckily none of them fell off the table and all landed on the surface. “You two are going to show some examples of how these cards work.”

Marvin blinked. “Um... well, we... we don’ exactly know...” It wasn’t a lie, was it? The cards had almost infinite possible ways they could be arranged, and he didn’t remember most of them.

“Then you will figure it out,” Daniel said calmly.

Jackie pulled at the handcuffs attaching him to the table. He looked at Marvin. “Um... sorry,” he said.

“Sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have said anything about the cards at all, but I—I thought—I-I don’t know what I thought, I guess I just... maybe they would leave us alone? I-I don’t know. I didn’t want to say anything but I thought they wouldn’t leave me alone... but I should’ve known they would find out I was hiding something.”

“What? Are you sayin’ t’is wouldn’ be happenin’ if ye kept your mouth shut?” Marvin gestured at the room around them. “Pretty sure it would happen anyway.”

“...still.” Jackie shook his head. “I don’t know. I can’t help but feel like I fucked something up.”

Marvin laughed. “Honestly, it’s possible ye jus’ got yourself in trouble wit’ t’at.”

“...yeaaah.” Jackie pursed his lips. “Well, uh... are we going to do what they asked? Figure out what your cards do?”

Marvin glanced at the scientists. They were poised to take notes. “Well... what happens if we don’?”

At that moment, both sets of cuffs started glowing white. Pain jolted up Marvin’s wrists and he shouted out. Jackie also let out a short scream.

“The less you cooperate, the higher intensity the electric shocks will be,” Daniel said calmly.

“Wh-what the fuck?” Jackie gasped. “Just—j-just completely dropping the pretense, are we? I’m not g-going to help or join any company that shocks people into compliance!”

“If either of you try anything, the other will also be shocked in turn,” Daniel continued.

“F-fun,” Marvin commented. “T’at’s probably why you’re here, Jackie. Leverage.”

“Fun,” Jackie repeated, going pale. “So... now what?”

“We coul’ continue to resist, if we wanted,” Marvin said. “But... I-I don’ know how long we could hold out. Maybe we coul’ just... try... messing wit’ the cards? Maybe we’ll find somet’ing helpful.”

Jackie nodded slowly. He looked down at the cards and took a deep breath. “Alright.” He started flipping the cards over so they were all face-down, the runes on their backs visible. “But you know they’re watching us.” He jerked his head to the side, towards the glass door. “Anything we know, they’ll know.”

Marvin nodded slowly. “But... what else can we do righ’ now?”

“I-I don’t... know...” Jackie sighed. “I’m not... good in these sorts of situations... I-I’m not a fighter like Anti, or Schneep, or even you.”

“I’m flattered t’at you t’ink I’m a fighter,” Marvin said. He also began sorting out the cards, recognizing each rune and recalling what they do. Idly, he started looking for ways they could match up.

“You are.” Jackie nodded. “You have this fire in you that I just don’t have.”

“You have a fire too, Jackie. I don’ t’ink anyone will blame you for not puttin’ it towards fightin’ t’ese guys. We’re jus’ normal people, you know. We’re jus’... doin’ our best to endure t’is. Like we have been for so long.”

Jackie didn’t reply right away. The two of them started making patterns with the cards. None of them seemed to do anything. There were a couple that gave off a few flashes of light, causing the two of them to tense and the scientists outside to lean closer with their clipboards, but there were no obvious effects. “...I’m tired, Marvin,” Jackie whispered. “I feel like I’m losing my mind, I want to do something, but at the same time, I’m so tired.”

Marvin nodded. “I’m tired, too. It can’ have been too long in here, but I’m tired. I t’ink we’re not meant to be in a constant state of ‘desperate to escape’.”

Jackie laughed. “No, no we’re not.”

“But we can’ give up, y’know,” Marvin continued. “We have people outside waitin’ for us. No matter how distant they feel righ’ now.” He pushed some more cards into place. “We have to keep goin’, for them, and for Jems, Anti, Schneep—for all of—”

Everything turned fuzzy.

Marvin blinked. Did something get in his eye...? He reached up to rub his eyes... and realized something. He wasn’t fuzzy. His body was totally clear. It was just the world around him that was strangely out of focus. This realization was followed by the subsequent realization that he had somehow slipped out of the handcuffs. “Jackie!” he gasped. “I’m out!” He shot to his feet.

Jackie didn’t move. Jackie didn’t look up. And the scientists outside the glass door didn’t react, either. Marvin blinked. He walked over towards the glass wall. One of the scientists was pulling a strange facial expression, like they were in the middle of a sneeze. Was that... exactly what was happening? Did time freeze around him?

Marvin looked back at the cards on the table. He hadn’t been going for any specific pattern. It looked like several of them had been pushed into a vague circle. He leaned closer, trying to remember what runes were on the back—

But then suddenly he was back in the chair, cuffs around his wrists again. He gasped as the world became clear again.

Jackie’s head snapped up. “Marvin?! Are you okay?!”

“I-I’m fine, I—” Marvin looked around. What was that? He looked down at the cards again...wait a minute. Those were new. Or, not new, but they weren’t there before. The joker cards.

Jackie followed his gaze. “Oh!” He started. “What’re those ones? With the spiral runes?”

“T’ose are the joker cards,” Marvin explained. “But... what’re they doin’ here? They were in some separate room before...”

“Huh?”

“Oh, I tried to escape and found them t’ere,” Marvin explained. “Doin’ t’is weird ‘swirling around each other’ t’ing. Why are they here now?”

Suddenly, the glass door slid open and guards rushed in, surrounding the two of them. Marvin yelped in surprise as they grabbed him and pulled him away from the cards, causing the cuffs to dig into his skin as they yanked his arms forward. “Hey, what?!” Jackie shouted as they did the same to him. Two guards stepped forward and unlocked the handcuffs, then a couple more pulled their arms back.

“J-Jackie!” Marvin shouted as the guards dragged him out of the room. “Jackie!”

“Marvin!” Jackie struggled against the guards holding him back. “D-don’t panic! You—you must’ve done something! Th-that could be good!” The glass door slid closed, separating them, but Marvin could still hear Jackie shouting. “Just hang on! We’ll get through this together!”

“Y-yeah!” Marvin nodded, trying to dig in his heels. He could hear some of the scientists muttering something. What were they talking about? Something about something synchronizing? The “feed” from some sort of camera? Were they monitoring something else at the same time as they were watching Marvin and Jackie. “I’ll see you again, Jackie! I promise!”

“I’ll see you!” Jackie shouted.

Then the guards dragged Marvin into the elevator and the doors slid shut.

#jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye fanfiction #jacksepticegos #septic egos #septic egos au #jacksepticeye au #jackieboy man #dr jackie parker #marvin the magnificent #1920s marvin #antisepticeye #programmer anti #brigid writes fanfiction #septicswitchau

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writingseaslugs · 2 years ago

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Ignihyde: Injured Reader

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please do a quick read of THIS post.

Injured Reader Headcanons

Idia Shroud

Idia isn’t too well versed when it comes to injuries. Sure, he’s hurt himself a few times when building things, but it’s never really serious. Last time he was seriously injured was in his childhood, and he kinda blocked it out. He normally just has Ortho treat his injuries and then continue on like it didn’t happen. His pain tolerance is pretty high though, so half the time he doesn’t even realize he was injured at all until Ortho says something.

Idia is both concerned and amazed as to how you injured yourself while you were on his bed, playing on one of his hand-held consoles. One moment you’re fine, then the next you let out a small pained noise. Turns out, you kicked the wall pretty damn hard and your foot hurt. He is going to make sure it’s not serious, and as long as it’s fine, he’ll tease you about being a total idiot, and how you really should be more careful.

If it’s something that needs to be treated, Idia is calling for Ortho. He had equipped him with medical supplies for a reason, and he was going to make sure they were put to good use. There was one point where he thought it was stupid to install all those extra things into Ortho, but seeing you hurt made him happy he kept them all. He’ll offer to let you stay in his bed for a while, at least until you feel well enough to go back home.

Ortho Shroud

Ortho might not get injured, but oh boy does he know how to treat them. He has so much medical knowledge downloaded into his software that he might as well be a doctor. It helps that he really does enjoy using all the tools at his disposal to help out his friends. He hates when those he cares about get injured, but he also understands he gets some giddy kind of emotion going through his hard drive at the thought of helping them out.

Now when he sees you get injured, he’s more concerned than excited. Running over to you and assessing the damage. He didn’t know how you managed to cut yourself so badly on a sheet of paper, but you were bleeding more than you should’ve. He’s rushing around to make sure you’re fine, even if you assure him you can handle it with a small plaster. What if it gets infested? Sepsis kicks in? You lose your hand? Ortho simply cannot allow it!

Ortho is carrying you to the nurses office as fast as his blasters can take him. He can treat you on the spot, sure, but he read once that humans tended to feel more comfortable when treated in a sterile environment. He’ll use everything he has to make sure you’re okay. Once you guys finish up, he even gives you a small sticker with a smiley face, and assures you that if you scratch it, it has a pleasant aroma to it. He is going to ask that you’re more careful in the future though.

Beta Fishies:@kingheinrey, @epiphyllous, @mint-moushi

Are you a fan of Diasomnia like me? I bet you are if you read my content (we love the boys in this household). Want to support a visual novel that will feature Diasomnia dorm, has multiple routes and endings, as well as some spicy visual scenes? Check out @twstfournights and if you want info, check out their announcement post!

#Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland x Reader #TWST #TWST x Reader #TWST Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland Disney #TWST Disney #Idia Shroud #Idia Shroud x Reader #Idia x Reader #Ortho Shroud #Ortho Shroud and Reader #Ortho and Reader

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lagncx · 8 months ago

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doctor levi x reader. breaking pt 1

(he's out of character till next chapter i was trying to get a feel of this modern doctor levi au so like yah no romance yet)

You walked into the room with Levi giggling at his bashfulness “Dr. Levi you know i love visiting you We're like best friends'' You smiled before handing Levi his peach tea “Thank you” Levi smiled up at you “Do you think it'll taste good?” Levi asked, sitting on the counter in the check up room (whatever they have for you to sit in a room and talk to them). Levi had you get him a drink since he's been working more to support him and his wife while she took a break from her job…’yea…break my ass’ you thought your expression changed only for a second. Levi and you have been friends for a while and you were at his wedding even though your body shook seeing the paths with you both breaking apart to just one. Friends. His wife…a whole different story Levi was a sweetheart and was..is absolutely head over heels she was social and kind with you and the others but she started changing getting colder when it came to Levi but it wasn't your business. He actually confided in you a few times about their sex life. Levi’s always been a virgin he was raised to save it for his wife in the future and every party you two went to when girls tried to rub themselves upon him he pushed them off and used you as a crutch saying how you two were a “couple” which is a lie. Fully a lie you've never laid a finger on Levi…well in places you shouldn’t have. So you were ready to hear all about his first time with his wife when he came home from his honeymoon and…nope nothing happened he said

“She said she just wanted to enjoy the sights first.” So they did and Levi waited for her to initiate it…she did not. You remember rolling your eyes and teasing him and he was seriously upset. Not in a bad toxic man way but just hurt like he was scared she didn’t really love him. ‘But fuck it it’s been a year so they’re probably fine and going at it everyday’ you thought to yourself before replying back to Levi “maybe it will. But you did get the recipe off of Pinterest so you might ducking-die or something” you laughed as you stood over him watching him taste it his eyes shined and he licked his top lip “it’s actually good” he said. “So…ready to go home?” You asked, putting your hand in your pockets. For about three days you’ve been driving Levi, his wife was busy and his car was getting repaired and smogged. He grabbed some papers and nodded as he walked into the eerie empty halls of the hospital to the front desk of the floor giving them the papers. You smiled at him as he was gentle with everyone of his peers so gentle he continued their conversations knowing he was deadbeat tired…shit…so were you. You’ll be the bad guy tonight.

“Yes and dr. I told her she needs to take responsibility for her actions or else she’ll get into something she can’t back out fro-“ you pushed Levi gently with a sense of urgency “sorry ma’am it’s late and I hate to pull him away but I am also in a hurry” you smiled so wide your eyes looked shut the lady nodded and understood completely. Levi glared at you which made you suck in a breath his eyes were striking like always as he turned back to the woman. “Even though she’s absolutely out of line and RUDE. Yes we are both tired and without her I have no ride. I will continue with you tomorrow evening ma’am.” Levi smiled and walked on through the door to the elevator. Your job was in the hospital, you weren’t a nurse or something special like a medic or emergency services. You did the cleaning, bedsheets, bathrooms,morgue area. And you used to try and take Levi with you but he’d always freak out and call you a freak cause you didn’t mind standing around in there. Of course not it’s your job and the dude is cool too, Eren was his name and Levi thought he was cool when he first met him till he learned where his position was. Levi thinks you have to be crazy to wanna be around the dead. But almost near the entrance you felt around your pockets and cursed yourself “Levi…shit. I forgot my fucking keys.” Levi turned and looked at you “oh that’s okay let’s go get them. Where are they?” Your eyes looked to the side eyeing the doors and in the windows you could see the black doors behind them down the hall Levi followed your gaze. “Ohhh no. No no no no nononono.” You huffed “Levi it’s just a bunch of bags you don’t even see them out of the bags it’s super quick bet you Eren has seen to them already.” Levi shivered he didn't already like walking the halls of the hospital alone cause it was cold nothing wrong with it just…lonely. He sighed and walked next to you keeping close as you headed closer to what he felt like was his doom.

“Yooohooo! Eren! It’s me y/n I think I left my Keys here. Yea I know how stupid of me” you smiled and Levi’s arm clung to you but you didn’t mind you know how much of a clean freak he was “y/n? Are you wearing your mask?” Eren said walking towards you his jaw slightly hairy and his hair tied back messily his eyes were tired and dim. “Jesus they don’t let you sleep man?” You teased “a lot of work.” He said plainly leaving you just staring at him dumbfounded. You just chuckled “forever a smooth talker. So I kinda left something here fr-“.

Jingle

Eren dangled your keys from his index finger and looked at you before dropping it in your hand “I’ve told you to stop leaving things here” you shrugged “this is the first time!” Levi looked at you both wondering what the fuck you both were talking about “No last time you left your broom. First time it was your phone. Then it progressed to your wallet now your keys. How about I send all your belongings with the corpses?” He glared at you. “So cruel!” You and eren chit chatted before you felt a pull on your sleeve “y/n…let’s go.” Eren looked down at Levi and waved “Dr. Levi! Hi. Never see you around much…how’s life up there with the living?” Eren joked before Levi replied with a quiet “good.” Eren frowned “you don’t like it here?” He asked “…me neither.” Levi looked at eren who was staring at him coldly. You sighed before it could progress pulling Levi with you out the door “Bye Yeager bomb!” You waved and headed outside Roy the cold night wind and the smell of the overcast from the beach since the hospital was so near the beach it was the only upside. Levi sighed “why’d he look at me so…coldly?” You put your hands on your hips and looked down “He doesn’t wanna be there..work there. Years he went to university to be a pro in surgery. But fuck it we all don’t get what we want!” You shrugged pressing the button on your car keys opening the door for Levi “Really? Why hasn’t he brought it up To Erwin?” Levi looked at you as he sat in the car seat. You leaned on the door and looked at him your head on your arms “Guess he sees no point…Eren…he avoids confrontation so I guess the gentle giant intimidated him” you huff looking off into the city streets and cars thinking of Erwin and that time he brought cookies for everyone. “Yea…intimidating.” You closed Levi’s door gently and got in yourself pressing the engine button “heat or ac? It’s cold outside but I mean-“ Levi rolled down his window already answering you as he laid his head against the window frame. You smiled admiring him before you turned back to the windshield. “Alright… groceries than home.” You smiled hearing Levi hummed in agreement

Levi fumbled with the key in his front door “what the fuck? These keys always jam.” You looked at the door then at Levi “Guess I’ll have to call someone to-“ your body pushed Levi against the door “w-what are you-“ you pulled the door towards you both closing it completely then using the key and it opened. “Cant push the door that’s why” you opened the door and from the loss of support on one side Levi stumbled in catching himself and glared at you as you walked in taking off your shoes “Can I use your restroom Levi?” You asked looking around the home the place was dark until Levi turned on the light dimming them. “Go on.” He said as he opened the fridge “you know where it is. Try not to wake up my wife. I think she may be asleep. "You scoffed “Yes sire! I shall keep silent so as to not wake up her majesty!!” He shushed you, scolding you with his brow. You sighed and stood in front of the door of the bathroom ready to leave till you heard voices whispering..too feminine to be Levi and-…too light? To be Levi. His wife and…not him. You left the bathroom and straight to the guest room in front of you seeing the two together as the woman struggled to put her clothes on they both looked at you Silence and the first thing you could think to say

“HOLY SHIT”

#fanfiction #x female reader #writing #fanfic #x reader #levi x reader #levi aot #levi ackerman #aot levi #levi x y/n #levi x you #attack on titan

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errorscriber · 1 year ago

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there's been a lot of talks about shidou's safety in regards to amane now that Purge March has dropped, I would like to give some people peace of mind about amane's threat to shidou. there have been lore drops here and there that implies he'll be fine

21/03/22 (Kazui’s First Trial)

Shidou: Mukuhara-san, you’ve not been looking great ever since you came back.

Kazui: Ahh…… yeah, I still haven’t got back to my usual self huh. Y’know, Shidou-kun…… kids can be really brutal huh. I don’t have any of my own so hadn’t realised until now.

Shidou: Haha, so they are. They won’t listen to the excuses adults make to explain themselves. ……though that’s also what makes them cute.

Kazui: Yeah… You’re really mature, Shidou-kun. By comparison, I’m really immature huh. Not growing up in any way other than my age. ……*sigh* Even I’m starting to hate that about myself.

22/06/27 (Amane’s Birthday)

Kazui: What’s up, Shidou-kun? You’re looking pretty down. I guess you must be tired, I’ve been relying on you a lot lately.

Shidou: Yeah, I just remembered…… today is Amane’s birthday. I’m just getting a bit sentimental.

Kazui: Hmm, it’s unfortunate, but at the moment we can’t worry about that. ……you understand, right? There’s something that you need to do right now. And if you tried talking to her your words definitely won’t reach her. Don’t look at me like that. We’ll just wait until the situation changes. Let’s do our best.

Shidou: Yeah. I’ll do what I can. I can’t have a child making a face like that. Even though we’re “murderers”…… we’re also the adults here.

22/10/24 (Shidou’s Birthday)

Amane: ……Kirisaki Shidou. How long do you plan on continuing this foolish behaviour?

Shidou: I wonder what you might be referring to there. I’m just doing what I need to do. If anything, I’d be happy if you would lend me a hand.

Amane: I warned you. I can no longer turn a blind eye to this wickedness taking place right in front of us. You’re bringing ruin unto yourself. Do you understand?

Shidou: No, I don’t understand. It’s my job as an adult to teach you that throwing a temper tantrum isn’t going to make everything go your way. If it’s a test of endurance you want, I’m happy to oblige, Amane.

i know prison isn't really comparable to a hospital, but shidou is a doctor. he's probably met folks who are averse towards medical treatments. we have to also remember he's canonically a father as well. the patience in this man knows no bounds! shidou is the person who knows best that children can get volatile if they go through their word and actually initiate in their tantrums.

in the second trial we've clearly seen him be more proactive and more motivated to interact and help other people in the prison. to me, these conversations shidou has had implies that he'll find a way or be able to defend himself is amane were to do something to him.

maybe let's say, i am grasping for straws here and maybe shidou is gonna be in ruins but for now i want to have faith in that guy. he's tried to be gentle and passive around amane at first from the very beginning, now he knows that type of approach doesn't work. i surely hope he's prepared and i think from these conversations, shidou himself is trying to prepare for what is about to come.

i do want to take amane seriously and respect her wishes not to downplay her as a child but im not gonna try and give her too much power, i don't think she's a Big and Major Threat we should all worry about. i know there are so many variables we have to consider in the second trial towards what to vote. regardless of what you want to vote her this trial, i think our first trial verdict has already locked her thoughts into place anyway.

22/04/19 (Futa’s Birthday)

Futa: ……! O-oh, it’s just you. It’s nothing. ……but well, on that note. Hey. Don’t you have anything happening too? Since being in here, just suddenly getting anxious. Feeling as though loads of people are all there condemning you, telling you you were wrong.

Amane: ……I’m fine. I don’t know what you’ve done or what it is you’re worried about, but I think if there’s something you believe in, you should stay true to it. It’s not something that should waver just because other people said something. I personally don’t plan on changing my own beliefs even if I’m told I’m wrong either…… ……today is your birthday, correct? I’ll pray for God to keep you under his care.

this is my first time doing a post like this so im sorry if there are any misunderstandings i have regarding these conversations. i do hope that maybe you can find some faith that shidou will turn out fine in some way. he's going to beef with a 12 year old. he should start thinking about what to do.

#amane momose #shidou kirisaki #milgram #milgram theory #milgram analysis #> yuuyuus rambles <#yuugram log

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starseneyes · 2 years ago

Text

Chenford REWIND - Lucy Chen / Tim Bradford - The Rookie - Season 4 Ep 14

This one might seem a little weird for me to pick out of the pile, but it really resonated with me for a few reasons that I'll get into once we dive into the Meta.

Season 4 is the era of open Tim and Lucy truly sharing in one another's lives at a level they never did before. It's needed for this episode.

So, bear with me because this is more of a "mini meta", but this episode deserves it, I think.

SPOILER ALERT: In the land of Spoilers I doth play! Merriment is to be had for those who partake of said indulgences, but for those who forsake the foreign finds, atrophy doth await. Okay, I can be a little silly because we've done this enough. Spoilers within. But I do try to write without foreknowledge of what is to come.

Everyone versed on the way this works? Excellent! I'm ready to dive in.

"... since I don't know my biological father, you know, it makes it kind of challenging."

I hate these forms with everything in me. And I. Have. Twins. So every time I start them with a new doctor, I have twice as many forms that have to be filled out in the same time as most parents get for one. So, I'm with you, Lucy.

Also, I remember the first time I had to fill out a School Form after meeting my biological father. I was a lot younger, but I remember my absolute confusion. "Mama, am I Hispanic?" "Just mark 'white'," she responded. Yeah... it was an interesting season.

"Wait. Your Dad's not your bio dad?" "Mmnm." "You never told me that." "It's not really a big deal. My Dad, the man who raised me, is my Dad."

Absolutely, Lucy! Blood does not determine fatherhood.

I remember an episode of The Pretender that took the angle of "Didn't I teach you to tie a tie?" and I was a mess of blubbering crazy on the floor because "Dad" isn't owed to anyone just because they contribute biological matter to an insemination. "Dad" is a special moniker.

And, yes, I call both the man who raised me until I was 7 and my biological father "Daddy". Plus I have a step-dad. My wedding was really interesting with three Father Speeches, let me tell you!

"She told me that he was not ready to be a father..."

I do feel for Lucy's mom on this one. My biological father let his friends convince him my mother was lying... so he never wanted anything to do with me.

She had to go to court to get the blood test for... you guessed it... medical history forms, so she'd be able to fill them out accurately for me.

Yeah, Lucy doesn't owe this man anything and neither did her mom.

Wait... did I just take Mama Chen's side on something? It feels dirty...

"Hey, do you think it's weird I didn't try to find my biological dad?" "No. You don't owe the guy anything."

Thank. You. Lucy, if you're not going to listen to me (just like football teams when my Uncle's screaming at them from his couch), then please listen to your husband.

What I also love about this is that we've caught up with them mid-conversation. It's possible they were talking about this in the Shop, but I like to think that it came up between them before. Lucy's comfortable telling Tim almost anything.

For a man who tries hard to keep the Shop a "personal free zone", by Season 4 Lucy has worn him down, and he's beyond telling her to stop.

She's already versed Tim on the fertility fun, so it's completely natural for her to talk to him about this, too.

"The only thing he ever contributed to your life was measured in millimeters."

Best. Husband. Ever. Get this man an award, because he's busting out all the support for his wife while calling out this no-show sperm-contributor on his lack of parental contribution. We stan a man who thinks fatherhood demands some bloody effort.

Look, I love my bio dad and we have a great relationship. But it took a lot of work and a 13-year-old screaming at her father to put down the beer and drive because he was the adult and needed to act like it. Yeah...

"Seriously, I don't know why I bother talking to you about personal stuff." "Mission accomplished."

This cracked me up the first time I saw it! Because, Tim's beyond telling Lucy to stop talking, right? But that doesn't stop him from being a cynical bitch to get her to stop.

She gives him the look, but his gaze is safely on Bailey so he isn't instantly vaporized by meeting her eyes.

"Why don't you give us a list?" "How about giving me your number?"

Tim turns to her and does his little finger point that he did when dismissing her when they decided to ride together again as Gofer and Sergeant.

He didn't need her involved in his paperwork that night so he waves her away. This time, he's waving himself out of his conversation. Also, he doesn't want to be present so he doesn't have to write Lucy up for threatening the guy.

"Sir, are you okay?" "Do I look like I'm okay?" ... "Did you see where she went after she attacked you?" "Obviously not."

Calm down, Timmy, my boy. About 12 seconds ago you asked a man washing his blood-red, can't-open eyes with a garden hose if he was okay.

Neither one of you's doing great in the common sense department, today, so why not back off on the attitude directed my girl's way?

I've seen a small contingent of people claim Tim's changed too much from Season 1. Nah. What we've seen is a man who was at the lowest point of his life finding healing. It's gradual, but it's there.

And we see that the cynical, sarcastic, dead-pan part of him is still there. But it's not overwhelming all the other wonderful, layered parts of him like before.

Also, I speak cynicism and sarcasm, so in that I've found a kindred spirit in a fictional character.

"People suck." "Amen to that."

He's not wrong. Look, there are individuals who can be pretty amazing, but in my experience, people as a whole generally suck. That's why the kind-hearted, compassionate, considerate, empathetic humans matter so much. That's why people like Lucy matter so much.

Because in a hurting world, the hope-bringers matter. They're the ones who light a torch in the blackest night and hold it high for others to see. And as we're drawn toward that light, holding our own water-logged torches, drenched in our tears... we find warmth. We find hope.

The warmth dries out our torches, not erasing our tears, but ceasing their flow. And then, slowly, the spark within each of us returns, and we can then hold our own torches high for the next weary travelers who've lost their sense of self on the difficult trails of life.

Tim's torch is starting to spark, and he can thank Lucy for a lot of it. But, right now, he's reminding us that he's one of us... still not all the way out of the dark.

Lucy twitches her hand at Tim's remark, almost a "Are you kidding me!?", but Tim doesn't see it.

"Is it better to know? Or to not?" "You talking about bio dad now?"

Kitty! My husband says that to me every time I cock my head to the side in response to something he says. It reminds him of his kitties he grew up with.

So, as soon as Tim cocked his head, I thought "kitty!" and promptly erupted into laughter in an empty room like a madwoman.

But I love how well Tim can read her. There are still times he checks in with her with a "You okay?", but we're seeing the evolution of his understanding of Lucy. He's grown in his understanding of her, and right now he knows exactly where her mind has gone.

And how special is it that she's working through this with Tim?

Look, family stuff can be complicated and we've already seen Lucy's issues with her mother. Tim has likely had several earfuls of all this, but I love how supportive he's being of her, here.

He's not telling her what to do. And that immediately throws me to post-DOD when he didn't tell her what to do with her tattoo. There's a consistency here that I appreciate.

Also, I love this growth compared to when she was vetting Emmett. She pretended to talk to Rachel (not this Rachel... but I'll totally be her second Rachel BFF if Lucy Chen, fictional character, is looking for a new BFF). And when Tim called her on it, she admitted she needs to process orally and knew he wouldn't do it with her.

Look. How. Far. We've. Come. Tim doesn't have to be talked into it. In fact, he's the one who drew it out of her when she started waxing poetic Shakespeare style—"To know, or not to know?"

Tim is Lucy's sounding board, now. Losing Jackson was huge. And while Lucy loves Tamara and talks to her a lot, it's not the same thing since there's more of a mother/daughter relationship at play.

And as someone with incredibly odd parent/child dynamics, I'm not judging. Just saying, it's different.

But in the vacuum that stole Jackson from Lucy's life, there will never be someone to fill that space completely. Yet, certain elements transferred near-seamlessly to Tim. Tim and Lucy are friends, and they are deeply involved in one another's lives, at this point.

Remember, we are post double-date, post Tim's father, post Lucy helping with demo, post so many other things that moved them forward in Season 4. Walls were torn down between them.

It's that thinnest veil now keeping them apart. That, and their placeholder significant others because, wow, were we dealing with some dead weight in Season 4, am I right?

Tim tells Lucy to find out the truth, and I love that. He's encouraging her in this endeavor on the same day he told her "mission accomplished" in scaring her off. He's still Tim. He's still going to be a bit of an ass, sometimes.

But, damnit, he's making more and more exceptions for Lucy. And he doesn't even realize it, yet. But we get the delicious point-of-view of watching it happen, and I love this for them!

"The year your mother became a therapist, she slept with a patient. He was your father... I think the shame still eats her up."

Hold. Up. Mama Condescending slept with her patient!? That is one of the rules you do not break. So rather than own up to her mistake, even with her own daughter, she tried to mold Lucy into the model of perfection without consideration for the psychological damage she might be inflicting?

Oh, Mama Chen and I are gonna fight the next time her face appears on my screen. You don't do my girl Lucy dirty like that.

It's totally in-character. Like, it makes sense. But it also hurts. Because "the shame still eats her up". Lucy's mind can't help but wonder if part of that shame is her.

"You okay?"

Hubby knows when wifey's acting off. And he knows it has something to do with her father. So, he's not going into this blind. Tim Bradford is asking Lucy Chen about her state of mind knowing it's personal.

"Personal Life Free Zone" my ass.

"My whole life, nothing I have ever done has been good enough for my mom. Not, not my grades, my boyfriends, my career. And this whole time she has been a total hypocrite." "Look, uh, maybe she's trying to prevent you from making the same mistakes she did."

Oooh, swing and a miss. Tim, you can't help someone avoid repeating history if they don't know history.

Also, Lucy's never gonna sleep with a suspect, which is the closest equivalence I can make. She may sleep with a certain Sergeant, though, down the line. Am I right?

I've wondered for a while, too, if Tim has a soft spot for Moms considering everything he went through with his own Mom. From what we can tell, he tried to shield her and protect her even when he knew things were bad with his father.

My brother and I had a bad string of babysitters when my mother first became a single Mom. She divorced my brother's dad shortly after her mother died, and it was just the three of us.

We knew how bad it was. How hard it was for her to find good sitters. When we finally found a decent one who would let us stay over at her place when needed... we hid it from my mother when she and her husband got into a physical altercation in front of us.

I was about 7 and my brother was 3. He didn't quite understand what was going on, so as my Nanny ripped us out of bed and drove around town half the night looking for a place to stay... I distracted him. I played games with him.

And as we fell asleep foot-to-foot on her mother's couch across town, I was satisfied to know he didn't understand what was happening. I managed to protect him.

And I protected my mother, too, by not telling her. Because I wanted to shield her. I didn't want her to have one more thing to worry about.

Tim strikes me as a kindred soul in that. So, he looks at Lucy's mother and doesn't quite see the whole picture. After all, he hasn't even met the lady... yet.

Oh, but when Tim Bradford meets Mama Chen and sees the bullshit she puts Lucy through? He's gonna have his wife's back and it's going to be a glorious minute twenty-five of television that I will play on repeat to my heart's content.

"Or she resents me for reminding her of the one time in her life that she messed up."

There it is. The shame. Is that why Mama Chen is always ashamed of her? Lucy has to wonder.

"Lucy, it's..."

No, phone. Not now! I have never wanted to chuck a phone out the window so badly as I did when Lucy's chirped just then.

Because Tim Bradford knows a thing or two about a parent who makes you feel ashamed of yourself. And I really want to know what he was going to say.

One of y'all better have a fanfic to fill in the blanks because, whew, if I find Lucy's phone alone in a back alley, one of us isn't coming back.

Yes, I know I have a beef with an inanimate object and that the whole bloody thing's fictional.

But damnit, I want Tim to have the opportunity to speak love into Lucy's life as often as possible and that. phone. killed. my. dream.

"Patrick Walsh. That's my father's name." "Well, I mean, at least it's not something weird like Dilbert." "You mean like the cartoon character?" "Someone named their kid Hashtag. You never know."

I love this. Tim falls into their natural rhythm, and Lucy goes along with him. It actually coaxes a smile out of her, which is what I think he was trying to do.

Awww, our babies have graduated to responding to one another's needs wordlessly. I'm so proud of them!

"So, what are you gonna do?" "Find out the truth."

She's echoing Tim's exact words to him, which I love. But I also love that Tim is driving this whole conversation.

Mr. "Personal Life Is a No-Go On The Job" is the one coaxing this out of Lucy. Because he knows her well enough to know that she'll stew on it, otherwise. If he wants her focused on work, he has to get her through those personal blocks by talking it out.

This whole episode is a love letter to Tim's understanding of Lucy and how far they have come. Yes, he gave her a little trademark Tim at the top with his no-nonsense assessment of ejaculation's lack of causality to actually being a parent.

But, throughout this episode, he's been the one driving the conversation. He's been the one drawing her out. And he's been the one supporting her in this, which is huge.

They. Have. Come. So. Far.

"He's dead."

I can't even imagine. All of these scenarios Lucy built up in her head, and they're just gone.

I met my Dad at 6. He got clean when I was in my 20's, and that is when we truly bonded. But I've had friends meet their biological fathers into their 40's. It was a wild ride.

And though Lucy loves her Dad (the one who raised her), she was curious about this man who fathered her.

A girlfriend of mine was fascinated when she met her biological father and found out he was an artist... like her. It was so cool for her to connect those dots, even though she still recognized the man who raised her as her real father (because blood ≠ "real"). There was a piece of her that she'd never seen in another human, before, and that was cool.

Lucy will never have those moments. And wanting them doesn't mean she loves her Dad any less. She simply wanted to meet the man who fathered her, to know that piece of herself a little better.

"Maybe I should have tried to find him sooner." "Maybe, but he's the one who made the decision that he wasn't ready to be a parent. Whatever he did with his life after, it's not on you."

All. Of. This. And you can tell Lucy's not completely convinced, because what kid is? Yes, Lucy is a grown woman. But when it comes to our parents, we'll always be their kids.

Lucy hasn't had the best examples of functional relationships. And, frankly, neither has Tim. Neither of them know what it looks like to really work through.

We can argue that Tim was married before, but that didn't work out. For a million reasons, it didn't work out.

And this whole "egg" thing started because Lucy's Mom wanted to be sure she'd have grandchildren even if Lucy never found the right man. And that led Lucy down the path to finding her birth-father... only to find out he died. alone.

If she had reached out sooner, could she have changed that? And, Lucy, honey, I know that "what if" game oh so well. It never ends if you keep playing it. So, you have to step away.

And, you. Yes, YOU! Don't play the what-if game. None of us can change our pasts, but we can shift our paths.

Our past is written, but the future's as twisty and turny as my kids' favorite board game. Lots of options. Lots of opportunities. Don't limit yourself because of the past. Don't "what-if" your life away.

Do what you can with what you have, and bit-by-bit, you'll build a new life. One breath at a time.

As always, thank you for reading. See you on the next!

#Chenford #Lucy Chen #Tim Bradford #Melissa O'Neil #Eric Winter #Meta #The Rookie #Lucy x Tim #Tim x Lucy

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autisticbee · 2 years ago

Note

Just saw your newest posts about Dan Vs so would you mind sharing those I need my daily dose

Of Dan Vs thoughts? Sure. Here's some random thoughts & hcs. got a little long oops (I can't remember how to do read more on mobile...)

- Mr. Mumbles is immortal. why? Who knows, but it's a silly cartoon so I get to hc the cute kitty as immortal, alright?

- I've seen ppl joke about dan vs """cancel culture""" but the thing is, I think he'd be all for it. I think he'd find it funny. I mean the dude has his own version of a call out list.

- Dan has hypermobility (1. He mentioned having a double jointed thumb 2. I have hypermobility and I say so)

- Chris is pansexual but doesn't realize it until later in life, he honestly had just not thought about it too hard & had only had a few relationships prior to getting married kinda young, all with women, until something leads to him realizing his feelings for Dan are not entirely platonic & it's just like. Oh.

- Dan on the other hand is pretty openly bisexual, he has a preference for men(projecting 🤪) but has (... slightly) better luck with women (men are more likely to want to kill him)

- something, that's not a life or death situation that gets magically reset, prompts Elise to tell Chris the truth about her job. because I hate the fucking person can't tell their partner they're a spy/agent/superhero/what the fuck ever trope it Feels Bad Scoob and Chris has expressed sometimes feeling a lack of communication between them in the show which ):

- speaking of Elise finds out Chris is part bear but in like the most casual way possible

Elise: I'm thinking of making Chris see a doctor, he gets sluggish and strangely irritable during winter months which makes me wonder if he might have seasonal depression.

Dan: nah, that's just the bear part of his DNA

Elise: the. the what.

- Dan and Elise both have C-PTSD (I don't think I have to explain why Dan does, Elise's is from basically being trained as a child soldier & just that she's likely experienced many traumatic things during her job), Elise copes with it mildly better than Dan but she's mostly just better at putting up a front of normality

- also Dan is obviously autistic. he's undiagnosed and doesn't realize until he's in his 20s or 30s. The discovery of noise cancelling headphones make his life a little bit easier

- Chris is also neurodivergent in some way but I haven't narrowed down the flavor yet 😭

- Dan is a trans man this is fact in my head I won't accept anything else, I have like tried to work out timelines and shit just to make it all fit within canon(yes I know most ppl just go screw canon but I just like making things work within it, I'm weird like that). I can't decide if he's had top surgery(post-job at the chicken place, hence the funny note about it) or he just naturally had a small chest and testeorone "masculinized"(for lack of a better word) it somewhat (cause I did prior to going on multiple medications that I could sometimes pass as having a flat chest). He doesn't want bottom surgery cause he doesn't see the point (slightly nsfw: "until they can give me synthetic semen and a prostate I'm not interested"). again mostly projecting there lmao

EDIT: in case this wasn't clear, I mean he sees no point in it for himself, not that he thinks nobody should have bottom surgery

- Dan is a closeted romantic. This is hinted at in canon imo, the thing with the anger management lady is clearly a metaphor for wanting more than a fling. Dan seems to take his romantic attraction to people very seriously, like with Hortence despite not interacting with her much. also his face when Honey kissed him. he's just secretly a big sap who wants to be loved

- Dan is a catboy in spirit. I say in spirit because he has no idea what a catboy is but he's just sooo kitty cat coded. knocks things off tables when annoyed. plays with toilet paper. claws and bites. I hc he meows as a stim with Mr. Mumbles sometimes. Also he hisses at people.

- I know what Chris said in the family cruise ep but I like to think Chris does actually think of Dan as family, mayhaps the holding out the hand scene was a acceptance or realisation of that, maybe that's what the thing he was going to say but forgot towards the end was. this isn't even really a buddyshipping thing it's just that me personally if my best friend didn't consider me family I'd want to jump off a cliff(/j) so I can't handle the thought (seriously though what was Chris going to say. It haunts me.)

- I'll end this on a fuzzy feelings self indulgent headcanon. Dan, Chris and Elise(+ Mr. Mumbles) become a weird little family of ther own. Dan and Elise are like frenemies, who share the same partner, but also deep down they care for each other. platonic love/hate relationship <3

#dan vs #vee type dan/chris/elise #long post

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chordsykat · 2 years ago

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10 for all the ladies

10: How is your oc about medical care? Do they avoid any form of healthcare that they can, do they seek it out over every little scrape? Do they treat their injuries/illness all by themselves?

This is an interesting one, isn't it? I know you and I share a mutual medical background too, OP, so this could be fun (or incredibly boring, depending on how you see it, LOL) :D

Nita - Probably the most likely to, *of her own volition*, see an actual doctor/medical professional of the bunch. Nita is the person who gets regular checkups, eye, and dental work done. She's also the most "normal" about drugs. She'll take Advil for pain, Tylenol for really bad pain, and go to the ER if it gets worse than that. I don't see her having many medical ailments or chronic illnesses to speak of. She's also keen to seek out therapy when it comes to her mental health. Caj - As an assassin, she's pretty familiar with the human body's vital signs and various aspects of physiology for that matter. This extends to an ability to self-treat injuries sustained "on the job" based on the necessity to keep their origins secret. Caj has a high tendency to get in over her head and is far less capable of taking care of herself than she'd like to believe, however. Has had some bad experiences with doctors who wouldn't take her seriously until she "quits the drugs and gains weight". Cherry - Hates doctors and hospitals with a passion and insists she has never known one to help her in any way that couldn't be managed with her own brand of self-doctoring. Has had some bad experiences with doctors who wouldn't take her seriously until she "quits the drugs and loses weight". Probably would benefit the most from a mental health professional who could help her work through some of her feelings of inadequacy, but because of those same feelings, just can't seem to find the will to go. Sparkles - Will just *walk it off*, thanks. Cuts, scrapes, dislocated limbs, massive hemorrhaging, pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis? No big. She might self-medicate with some booze and weed, but Sparkles doesn't really do a lot of drugs, either. Probably equates trips to the doctor with the animal testing facilities she's liberated countless cute and fuzzy critters from, and therefore doesn't care for them on the basis of appearance, alone. Eden - Doesn't really have anything against modern medicine, but also finds herself in the position of least-likely to need medical attention. Perfectly capable of healing herself thanks to her supernatural gifts.

That one was indeed a hoot and a half. Hope it was as good for you as it was for me. :D

Prompt list is here!

#answered #medical jargon #house would hate these women #mtl oc

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tellthemeerkatsitsfine · 2 years ago

Text

Long story about some shit that’s so personal I’m a little nervous about posting it, and I don’t know how long I’ll leave it up, and I don’t know if there’s any reason to put it here. But it helped just to write it all down, and putting things on here tends to help me.

So, I’m going back on anti-depressants because Ahir Shah told me to. I watched his special Dots recently, and in it, he said he’d made the mistake of going off those a while ago. The act of stopping his anti-depressants, he said, surprisingly turned out to be a pro-depressant. He got worse, he got hopeless about everything, so he went back on them. Assuming he wrote that quite bleak show after going back on meds, they didn’t exactly restore all his hope. But they don’t normally restore all hope. No one ever promised that they would.

I have a degree in psychology, I know how these things usually work. It’s a common phenomenon for any mental or physical condition that people will go on medication, feel better as a result of the medication, decide they’re better now so they don’t need it anymore, go off the medication, and then feel worse.

For me, it was the opposite. I went off anti-depressants about a year ago, after having been on them for quite a while. That was by far the longest I’d ever stuck with a medication, though I’ve been prescribed them many times throughout my life. I’ve often been prescribed them and just never filled the prescription. Sometimes I’d filled the prescription and tried them for a month, hated the side effects, and gone off them (by which I mean tapered off under doctor’s supervision – I might be lax with letting my mental health go untreated, but I’m not irresponsible enough to take risks with sudden stops to medication). But a few years ago, I got to such a low point that I was willing to go on meds and actually stay on them. I stayed on that anti-depressant for about 2.5 years.

I went off them early last year because I thought they weren’t helping. I still got sad all the time, often for no reason or as a disproportionate reaction. I still got overwhelmed too easily from what should have been normal amounts of human contact. The pandemic had exacerbated that a lot. My anxiety levels were so high. If I was like that despite being on medication, what the hell was the point of the medication? I told the clinic that it wasn’t helping and I wanted to go off it.

The doctor recommended that I stay on it – he actually made me sign something acknowledging that he’d given me this advice, presumably to absolve himself of liability if anything bad happened as a result. And then he prescribed me the appropriate number of pills in lower doses so I could taper off safely, because seriously, even if I make other questionable decisions, no one should ever mess around with stopping medication cold turkey.

I didn’t fall apart the moment I stopped medication. Actually I sort of did, because I had a few weeks of withdrawal (which can happen to mild or moderate degrees even if you do go off it the proper way, the severe withdrawal that occurs if you go off it wrong is scary), but once I got past that, for a while, I barely noticed the change. It’s only now that I look back that I can see a pattern. And the pattern doesn’t correlate perfectly with my medication history, because there are so many other factors at play. My life was fairly okay for most of last spring, so for a while, I felt all right even once I was off medication.

But I did, eventually, have a breakdown. I didn’t see it at the time; at the time it felt like a normal downswing in the normal ups and downs of life. But I can look at it now and remember that I didn’t get downswings that low when I was on medication. I definitely didn’t get downswings as low I am right now, where I’ve been for the last few weeks.

I remember a conversation I had, about six months after I started medication, with a girl I’d coached for several years. She had some serious anxiety issues, which she talked to me about frequently. I always gave her the best advice I could, which involved advising her to consult a doctor. She was reluctant to do so, which I understood, as I spent most of my teen years with my parents taking me to doctors who might fix my severe anxiety, but I never wanted anything to do with it. Now, I advise teenagers to be more open to accepting help than I was at their age.

I’d been open with this girl, when it came up and was relevant, with the fact that I had experience with this too. She asked me, that day, whether taking medication had helped me. She was nineteen by then. If she’d been younger I would have sugar coated it more, but I thought an honest answer might help her and she was old enough to hear it, so I told her the truth. I told her I still felt sad and scared at disproportionate rates, I still struggled with stress and human interaction more than most people, but since I’d gone on medication, I could function again. I could accomplish things, even if they were difficult. And I hadn’t once felt the desire to kill myself – in fact, I could barely remember how it felt to ever want that. I could barely remember how it felt to be close to wanting that. Since the medication had taken effect, my days of wanting to do that felt like a dream or a distant memory. Medication didn’t solve everything, but it took that away, and that mattered.

That’s what I told a girl I coached, several years ago. But as I sit here now and write this, I can very easily identify how it feels to be in that very bad place that I’d once reduced to feeling like a dream. What I have trouble remembering is how I felt on that day when I told a nineteen-year-old how confident I was in the resurgence of my mental health. I’ve described that memory in the form of a conversation because that’s how I remember it now – I remember saying it. I know that a few years ago, I felt like a functional person who was a million miles away from the darkest parts of depression. But I only know that because I remember telling someone I felt that way. I can now barely remember how it actually felt.

It was a few things at once at the end of 2022. Objectively bad things did happen, things that would cause most people to be upset. So when I reacted in the moment, it felt like it made sense. I’m only now realizing I’m pretty sure the version of me on medication would not have had quite the reaction that I did.

In those last few months, I stopped eating, stopped sleeping, stopped exercising, ignored my friends. Every step, at the time, felt like a normal level of having a bad day. I was still obsessively going through comedy and posting on here about it. More than ever, in fact. But I’d stopped feeling joy or hope in anything related to real life. I couldn’t be around people. When I did manage to go to my sport’s practices, the thing I love most in the world and only recently started getting back after COVID (God, I hate the phrase “after COVID” when we were very much still in COVID, but I’ve started going back anyway), I felt cold and disconnected. I didn’t like anyone there. I didn’t like anyone at all.

There were occasional exceptions, times when something would happen that would make me feel alive. But those were tiny flashes among weeks and months of not wanting anything to do with anyone, and the fact that they were exceptions highlights how bad things got.

I was already feeling that way when in October, a guy I used to know and like committed suicide. At first I felt nothing, which scared me because I thought the pandemic had completely turned off my capacity to care about things. But then I felt quite sad, and realized it was just a delayed reaction. So that was fine. Until a few weeks later when I learned that he did it to avoid charges for sexual assault of a teenage girl I knew, and I knew him around her; for years before the pandemic I worked with them both and saw them together and had no idea. And for all those years I was fighting for the people who oversee our sport to do something about all those predatory coaches in other regions, and had no idea that a friendly acquaintance of mine from another team in my own fucking city was one of the worst.

I spiraled pretty hard from there. A bad reaction would be normal, but I know my reaction was abnormal, because my friends got upset for a bit and then moved on. I couldn’t. It solidified my growing view that no one can be trusted and everyone in the world is a terrible person and no one is worth caring about, and therefore, nothing is worth doing or investing in. That everything that’s ever felt fulfilling to me is poison. And that’s when the actual wanting to die set in.

For the record, I do think there’s something to the depressive realism theory, espoused by annoying people who think being cynical makes them better than everyone else. As much as I hate those annoying arrogant people, I don’t know if it is right to say my reaction was disproportionate just because my friends got over it faster than I did. It’s fucking horrifying, and so are most things in the world. I think it’s rational to be really really upset that everything is so fucked up. I think I might be objectively more rational than my friends are about this. Also, the world’s ending. The world’s ending and everyone is just getting on with life, making plans for the future, as though the world isn’t ending!

But if exercise or diet or willpower or medication can give me whatever ability everyone else has to irrationally feel hope despite how fucking horrifying everything is, then I want to do that. Cynicism doesn’t make me better than anyone else, and I’d rather be happy than objectively rational.

Anyway, in the process of this spiraling, I shut down and didn’t see my girlfriend for several weeks, and when she asked me how we could move forward, I broke up with her. Because in that moment she felt to me like the only truly good person I knew, and I felt terribly guilty about hurting the only good person by asking her to deal with this version of me. The least I could do was be miserable and self-destructive without hurting an innocent person more than I had to, which was quite a lot, because we had a good relationship for fourteen months and of course I hurt her terribly by breaking it off. And then I felt incredibly guilty about that, and I still do, but I also still think I’d have hurt her more in the long run if I’d stayed with her and asked her to deal with this, so this was the path that caused the least harm, which is all I ever want to do. Though the actual path that would have caused the least harm would have been not getting into a relationship when I can’t count on remaining a functional enough person to maintain one. Which is what I did for ten years, until 2021, when I was on medication and though I was finally okay enough to try.

After that I shut down even more. I ignored calls from my parents who were worried about me, I couldn’t get out of bed. I did the bare minimum of work that I had to, but I’m lucky I have a quite flexible freelance job that can withstand this. One day my dad turned up at my door because I’d ignored my phone and he was afraid I’d hurt myself. I told him I was all right and let him take me for a drive, and he dropped off some groceries for me and I am incredibly grateful to have people who care about me so much.

A couple of weeks ago my parents got me to come to their place for Christmas, and now it’s a bit into January and things have got a little better. I’ve socialized a bit and eaten more and feel slightly more like a real person again, just enough to realize just how bad things had gotten in the last few weeks of 2022.

Through all this, I was still following all the comedy. When I stopped liking everything else in the world, the comedy is the only thing that never went away. There were times when I had trouble laughing at it, when certain types of comedy made me feel sick, but it could still pretty consistently make me feel something. I’ve been watching and listening to comedy and posting about it on here, and I don’t even know anymore if that’s escapism from the real world or if it’s my only connection to the real world that never got severed.

I recently watched Ahir Shah’s show Dots. And I now want to emphasize that I’m not going back on anti-depressants just because Ahir Shah told me to. I’ve known for a while that I needed to do that. I’ve known since I broke up with my girlfriend, and she told me she hopes I can work on my mental health and get the help I need, and I wasn’t doing well enough to take steps toward it at the time but I knew she was right. Over Christmas, when I’ve come back up just a bit, I’ve realized I need to actually start doing that. Because aside from anything else, I’m supposed to be looking for better jobs right now so I can be financially stable, and I can’t imagine that succeeding unless something helps my mental health get better. And I really want that to work, because I want to find a good enough job so I can relax about my financial situation and start planning some way to see the UK.

I already knew all that, but I still knew it sort of theoretically, as something I should get on at some point. And then Ahir Shah told me that the act of stopping anti-depressants is in fact a pro-depressant, and I realized he was right, going off it was a mistake. That was what I needed to hear. I needed to hear that the practical step of going back on medication – the step that seemed so big and complicated – could be done and has been known to work.

But seriously, I was going to do it anyway. I am not going back on medication literally just because Ahir Shah told me to, because no one should be taking medical advice from comedians. Please do not take medical advice from comedians. Listen to the advice of doctors, I say hypocritically, less than a year after signing a paper that let me ignore their advice. Do not make medical decisions based on comedy specials.

On the subject of comedy specials, I keep relating to the bad guys in people’s stories. I keep watching stand-up shows about relationships that didn’t work out, and relating to the person who isn’t telling the story. The partner who could not accept or properly return their love, and eventually, the protagonist realized that this terrible person was terrible for them. Even as I wrote in this post about how I broke up with my girlfriend, I thought, I know how this sounds. “I’m just too broken to be a good partner for you, sorry, nothing I can do about that.” It sounds like the bullshit that the villain in a sitcom or a stand-up special makes up to justify their shitty behaviour.

Before I got with my recent ex-girlfriend, I spent years not getting into relationships because I was scared of being that person, the one who hurts someone by letting them tie their happiness to my emotional availability, and then lets them down. When I first got with my recent ex-girlfriend, I tried to tell her that. I can demonstrate almost exactly what I tried to tell her, because this is a rare case in which I relate to the protagonist of a dating-based stand-up story; the first time I’d ever heard anyone else describe what I do was when I listened to this bit of Daniel Kitson’s After the Beginning, Before the End. But that’s not a clip in which we’re supposed to relate to him, even though he’s the one telling the story. That’s him telling a story about how he’s a bit of a dick sometimes. Taking the sort of liability waivers that they make you sign in a doctor’s office, and thinking they work in human relationships.

It’s not just how it ended. Even when our relationship was good, I never really let my guard down with my girlfriend, because I knew I wasn’t mentally functional enough to do well in a fully committed relationship. She wanted to travel together, meet my family, have me come over during the week sometimes, and I didn’t trust myself to handle any of that without freaking out, so I never did it. Now I listen to stand-up comedy stories, mostly by straight women about shitty boyfriends, where they realized they were too good for someone who kept them at arm’s length, and they were right.

About a month ago, my girlfriend came over to drop off the Christmas gift she’d already bought for me by the time I broke up with her; she wouldn’t take no for an answer about me accepting it. I glanced at it quickly, just enough to see that it was a really thoughtful and kind and considerate gift. Then I hid it in my closet so I wouldn’t have to look at it or think about what I’d done. And then I lay on my bed, and to try to block that out, I put on the radio show I’d been listening to. The first thing I heard was the comedian doing the radio show tell a story about her shitty ex-boyfriend for whom she’d made a beautiful and thoughtful Christmas gift, and he uncomfortably barely managed to accept it, and then she realized she deserved better than that and broke up with him.

Earlier, she’d told us how this guy said he’d be happy to live next to her someday but not with her, and the audience groaned in sympathy for her putting up with this guy, and my reaction was to think living in a home next to someone I love would be ideal. Not living with them. I loved my ex-girlfriend more than I’ve ever loved anyone I’ve been with before, and I was barely able to keep up a relationship of spending a night at her place once every weekend or two for fourteen months. If you live with someone, not just a roommate who isn’t allowed into your bedroom but with all spaces shared, where do you go when you’re having a mental health crisis and can’t handle seeing anyone? Oh right, most people are able to be vulnerable with their partners or whatever, during moments like that. Fine.

The ex-boyfriend from that radio story is one of my favourite comedians, and I frequently relate to him when he’s doing comedy in which he describes his worldview, but fucking hell, I don’t want to relate to him when he’s the bad guy in someone else’s story about her terrible ex, and the audience is audibly sorry she ever had to subject herself to that. I would really like to be better than that someday.

Anyway, I’m going back on medication, and not just because Ahir Shah told me to, I knew I had to do that anyway. But to be honest, there is a pretty direct connection between me hearing him say it and me making the actual phone call to my doctor’s office. It made that insurmountable-seeming process feel more possible. Don’t take medical advice from comedians, everyone, but maybe if you realize you’re the bad guy in all of their stories, consider trying to change something.

...I’ll be honest: I wrote this post last week, all of it up to this point, and saved it in my drafts because it seemed like too much to actually post. Just writing it out did help, so I already got that out of it, and there isn’t really a good reason to post it now. But I think I’m going to anyway, at least for a little while. I don’t need this to stay up for long.

I do have a bit of update, even since last week. I’ve made myself start doing workouts every day again, keeping in mind what I learned when I first became an athlete at the age of twelve: if you get out of the habit, no matter how out of shape you get, when you get back into it, it doesn’t matter if you can’t do everything you could do before. It only matters that you can do more than you did yesterday - if you keep to that every time, you’ll end up back in shape. I fucking hate sports clichés, I’ve spent years hearing people cite them unironically and they’re the absolute worst, but that one’s pretty true. I’ve previously used that one as motivation to go from being in a rut to being back in the top athletic shape I needed to be to compete at the varsity university national championships. Now, I’m using it to go from doing nothing for months to going back to being able to get through what used to be the daily workout that I did to keep my mental health slightly regulated. And shockingly, after just a few days of it, I have been reminded: oh yeah, there was a reason I did this. People who tell you that physical exercise can cure mental health problems are full of shit, but it does actually fucking help.

I still have my appointment to talk to my doctor about going back on meds, though. Because actual health care is important. Physical exercise and obsession with comedy recordings can both be helpful, but not good replacements for actual medicine. Sort your life out based on recommendations from certified professionals, not from Ahir Shah. But again, a few words from Ahir Shah can fucking help.

I spent an hour on the phone today with my friend who coaches a team five hours away from me. We’ve been close for years; pre-pandemic we had a long-distance friendship, but it didn’t feel that way because I saw him nearly every weekend at tournaments. He was one of the things I missed most during COVID, as I couldn’t see him at all without traveling. I saw him once right before Christmas in 2022, at one of the two tournaments I managed to attend, and it’s almost silly how much that helped my mental state, at least for a few hours. I was at that tournament, seething with frustration about knowing I was surrounded by terrible people who were once my community (including the brother of that guy who committed suicide to avoid accountability for grooming a vulnerable teenage girl, and that brother definitely knew and said nothing and tacitly supported it and he’s still running that team with more underage athletes and apparently that’s fucking fine) and I didn’t know how I’d ever feel at home anywhere again, and then my friend came out of nowhere and threw his arms around me after 2.5 years and I thought, “Oh right, this. This was what mattered.”

Anyway, I spent an hour on the phone with him today talking about how that guy who died deserved to die, and he agreed with me, and after months of hearing “Well, it’s complicated, I mean we have to be respectful”, God I didn’t even realize how much I needed to hear someone say, “I’m also glad he’s fucking dead.” There’s an old Andy Zaltzman/John Oliver bit (I think it originated in The Department from 2005-ish, so that old) that makes fun of people who fantasize about the extreme violence they’d like to commit against pedophiles, and I see their point. I see why it’s not helpful when society is trying to have an intelligent debate about criminal justice, and some people walk around giving unprompted rants about “Let me tell you what I’d do if I were alone in a room with one of those kiddie fuckers for five minutes.” But having said that, he’s already gone, so this isn’t about criminal justice. And this isn’t unprompted. And somehow to restore my faith in humanity I really needed to hear a friend tell me I’m not the only person who feels this much anger about it.

My friend also told me today that he refuses to die until he gets rid of all the predators in our sport, and I said yeah, okay, I’ll get on board with that. We might have to concoct a way to live forever if that’s going to happen, and if we do get rid of all the predators and all the apologists and people who’ve protected them, our entire sport might just be him and me and like ten other people hanging out in a gym somewhere. But fine.

God, Rhod Gilbert reminds me so much of him. This friend of mine has a case of ADHD that can be seen from space; he and I used to make a good team in fighting political battles together because I could be organized and keep track of what was happening in a way he can’t, and he could stand up and say things with social confidence and connections I don’t have. I’d edit the emails, he’d send them. He’d stand up in board meetings and yell at people, I’d text him under the table to make sure he didn’t forget all the facts that I had both memorized and at hand in a spreadsheet. Part of why I got so into Rhod Gilbert during COVID is I watched him on Taskmaster and in his stand-up DVDs, and it was the closest I could get to hanging out with my friend again. I realize not everyone with ADHD is the same, but these two guys were in many ways. Fuck cancer and nothing is allowed to take Rhod Gilbert out of this world.

One more comedy connection for me:

youtube

Okay there’s one other comedy show bit that’s been helping me a little:

Yeah, exactly. Thanks, Tim. Everyone needs to find a reason to want to stay around, even if it’s just to make sure the world keeps containing some people who are willing to hate bad things instead of being all fucking “Well let’s try to be centristly fair to the guys who groom vulnerable underage people” about it. Hopefully that’ll tide me over until I can get to the doctor’s appointment that I made because Ahir Shah told me to.

youtube

#Youtube

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aaprilshowers · 2 years ago

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at this point it might become a series… AT Aide thoughts? Yeah, i’ll call it that.

ANYWAY these are various TCW/TBB characters, the kind of patient i think they would be, and my thoughts of them as a patient. This is my opinion.

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL! I NEEDED A MEDICAL SCIENCE CREDIT FOR GRADUATION AND I CHOSE SPORTS MEDICINE!

••••••

Anakin Skywalker- I honestly feel like he would be half competent about his injuries. Emphasis on the HALF… He’d go to see the AT and listen to their advice and just NOT take it.

I’d like the fact that he’d show up and actually “take his injury seriously”… but then he’d show up with the SAME INJURY and i’d want to strangle him.

Obi-Wan Kenobi- I saw someone call him “Obi-Wan ‘if it’s not broken i’m fine’ Kenobi” and honestly i whole heartedly agree. I feel like he dreads the ATs office and REFUSES to go.

I’m under the impression that it would be hell on earth to GET HIM INTO THE OFFICE but when he’s there he actually pays attention and takes it seriously.

Ahsoka Tano- ok so i have many thoughts about this one

Pre-leaving the order: she HATES the ATs office. She’d refuse to go under any circumstance. Sprained ankle? she’ll walk it off. Broken wrist? No big deal. She would rather be ANYWHERE but the AT’s. Post-leaving the order, she’s not partial to it but she takes her injuries more seriously, if she feels like something is wrong, she’ll go.

Pre-leaving, she would be my worst nightmare patient, it would be like playing the worlds most costly game of tag to get her in and on a table. Post-leaving she’s my angel patient, she’s attentive and actually takes care of herself

Captain Rex- Similarly to post-order Ahsoka it’s not his favorite spot but he’ll go, different from Ahsoka he’ll only go if his injury is like… concerning my severe. He’d come in and be like “ok i’m here and i think i subluxed my shoulder” and my ass would go “HUH?”

One of the more difficult ones, when he’s actually on the table though he’s a relatively easy person to diagnose and treat.

Kix- I LOVE KIX HES MY FAVORITE not only that, he’s a medic so he UNDERSTANDS the importance of care. I feel like theres a stereotype with doctors/medics that they won’t get care for themselves but i don’t think that’s true at all, especially in this case. He’s so on his personal well-being. The only thing i think is he’s a tenant bit skiddish when someone else is treating him 🗿

ANGEL ANGEL ANGEL the best patient. i mean he’s probably yelling at everyone else to take care of themselves why wouldn’t he advocate for himself?

Commander Cody- Another one who doesn’t enjoy the Med bay/ATs office but he’ll go. He’s a commander and he sets the example so if he doesn’t do what should be done no one will 💀

He’s a good patient. I can’t really say much more beyond that because he shows up, he listens AND he follows direction. Stellar.

Crosshair- Now we get into the slander because i feel like TBB is the WORST when it comes to medical checks. Personally, i love Crosshair but i have this headcanon that he has the WORST posture so he probably has some spinal issues (takes one to know one my spine is fucked). However, whenever he has an injury he needs attending, no fuss he’s in the office getting examined and any recovery advice he’s given he takes. I feel like he and hunter are the most competent about getting checkups.

Personally i would love to have crosshair as a patient because i don’t think he’d be an office frequent. In my opinion he’s definitely not injured frequently and when he does get injured he’s not going to the AT because someone told him to, he’s there to recover. 10/10

Hunter- Like i said, he’s more health check conscious. I don’t think he necessarily enjoys is ATs office but he’ll begrudgingly go.

not a terrible patient. but i get the impression he’d zone out and i’d have to check if he’s still paying attention. he might come back with a similar injury a few times but he’s probably ok.

Tech- Tech refuses. I cannot tell you WHY he refuses but he does. he’d probably say some shit like “it’s not a necessary course of action” while having a concussion or something like bitch get your ass in the AT office i swear to god.

Not Ahsoka level avoidance. I feel like if i’d drag his ass to the office he’d sit and listen (with great difficulty because hes 6’4” and i’m 5’2) but other than that if no one forces him he just like… won’t go.

Echo- Another conscious one but i feel like he has major anxiety surrounding any medical office… i don’t enjoy the doctors either when i’m on the patient side so i sort of get it.

pretty good patient. i think i’d have some difficulty but over all he’s not bad.

Wrecker- I really don’t know what to make of Wrecker because i feel like he’s mega ADHD so it’s not that he’d NOT go i just think he’d do what i do and forget. Like i’ve gotten injured and fully been like “i’ll go to the dr” and i’ve just forgotten to go. So it’s not that hes a chronic avoider he just needs to remember to go.

I feel like when he actually remembers to go he’s pretty conscious of what’s being said. He probably wouldn’t follow every single step to the T but he’s pretty good.

Omega- My sweet baby angel. She’s not injured very often, rarely ever which automatically makes her my favorite. Beyond that, she grew up around Nala Se who was a Kaminoan medical professional so she’s comfortable in a doctors office.

She’s my favorite. Her and Kix are literally the best patients ever you can’t change my mind on this.

ONCE AGAIN:

1: these are all just my opinion

2: I AM NOT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL! IM A HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT WHO AIDES THE SCHOOL AT! If you need medical advice CONSULT YOUR DOCTOR!

#at aide thoughts #i am not a medical professional #i can’t stress that enough #i am not a medical professional at all #star wars the clone wars #star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch season 2 #i’m a high school student with a med science requirement #SERIOUSLY IM NOT A MEDICAL PROFESSIONAL

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ledenews · 4 months ago

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Santorine: 'I’m Not Going Back to 383 Pounds'

The impetus for this column was a discussion about a very good kind of quitting that I had with Steve Novotney, radio host, journalist extraordinaire and editor for this column. He’s writing a column about his quitting smoking, and I’m writing about my ongoing love/hate relationship with food. There is an important distinction here - you can quit tobacco. You can’t quit food. I’ve struggled with weight my entire life, and it’s worse now that I’m halfway through my 65th year. Part of the problem was my depression era parents, who would shovel whatever Mom was cooking on my plate, and full or not, I was commanded to “clean my plate” as there were “children in Africa who are starving.” Of course, like any good son, I did what I was told. It’s not that either had food insecurities growing up. My father’s immigrant parents scratched out a living. My mother’s parents did quite well. It was the rationing mentality that came from growing up then, and the war effort for World War II. Then I had the pleasure of playing football in High School, and low and behold my Dad was the coach. Bulk up to 210 pounds for the season, and then drop 22 plus pounds to wrestle at 188 when that was a weight class. I made that weight by taking my glasses off and exhaling while standing on the scale. During my senior year of high school, I injured my left knee wrestling. Cartilage, ligaments and tendons. Sounds like a law firm, doesn’t it? If it is, they specialize in pain. My immobility for the winter and spring saw my weight balloon to 245 lbs, and was the end of my amateur sports career. I arrived at college tipping the scales at this prodigious weight, and two things became painfully obvious - that I would not be getting too many dates at that weight, and that the food on campus was nowhere near as good as Mom’s. I was permitted by my doctor to play non-contact intramural sports, and I did. By the middle of my freshman year, I was a rather svelte 170 pounds and in fairly decent shape. In retrospect, I was probably consuming three times the number of calories I needed but walking around campus and sweating it out playing volleyball and about anything else let me keep that weight. Then, the dreamland that is college ended, and I was thrust into the real world of sales management. Behind a desk, with phone in one hand, or sitting on airplanes. Sales calls, that when scheduled correctly included a business breakfast, a business lunch, and a fairly high-pressure business dinner, all the while I was concentrating on getting the deal, and absently mindedly shoveling food into my pie hole. Seriously, I was taught to concentrate on the client. I didn’t even think about the food, which was usually ridiculously rich, and available in copious quantities. In what felt like a blink of an eye, I ballooned up to about where I was when I left high school, a whopping 230 pounds. A “very low calorie” diet and a ton of exercise brought me back down to 170 lbs and provided me with gall stones. Not an unusual side effect, I might add. That experience had me eating like a rabbit, because a single piece of pizza or fried-anything was good for a trip to the emergency room. My weight was up and down like a Yo-Yo for the next decade, usually ending a little bit higher at the end of each cycle. At about 250 pounds, I chose to quit smoking. I had been a two-pack-a-day guy for about 20 years, starting in the early 1980’s. I sucked on my last cancer stick July 18, 2001. I know that date, as it was my Dad’s (and my wife fathers) birthdate. Some things are just seared in your memory. Often, I love being predictable, but I didn’t this time. Without whatever appetite suppression I was getting from myself administered nicotine habit, I shot up from 250 to over 300 pounds. Somewhere in there, my blood pressure decided that it was going up as well, so I was medicated by my doctor, and suffered most of the side effects. One of my doctors, who I’ll call “Dr. Perfectweight,” was rather brutal about my weight, and I kept asking him what he was going to do to help. Nothing but crickets. In the mid 1990’s, a lot of the options we have today didn’t exist. Of course, that changed when “Dr. Perfectweight” had a massive heart attack. I ran into him socially a few years later. Seems he came to understand my dilemma. Few people with triple-digits of weight to lose are capable of doing so. I don’t know why, but I have researched the numbers. They are shockingly small. I used to joke that “I quit smoking 100 pounds ago.” In retrospect, it was a pretty lame excuse. My peak weight was 383 pounds. That’s morbidly obese. That’s un-insurable. That’s “it’s not a matter of if you’re going to have diabetes, it’s a matter of when”. There are many unfortunate things I learned along the way - as a fat man, you don’t want to show up at the ER with a busted up hand. They will assume heart attack and start looking for it. Don’t show up at a buffet, if it’s served; they want to pile it on your plate (here, eat up, porky). Here, you look like you want two desserts, to which I would smile and quietly wish pox on their house, while wrapping the sweets in the cloth napkin which could easily be a mess for the bus staff (my apologies). The twisted cultural norms are completely wrong when it comes to food. Eating stupid was encouraged at every turn. I’ve always kept a fairly decent level of muscle hidden under this flabby exterior, and my brother-in-law once mentioned that I moved pretty well for a “big man.” It was intended as a compliment, and I took it as such. That still haunts me. This journey to get my weight under control has required a concerted effort over a number of years, and I’m lucky to have some medical professionals with completely awesome skills and an amazing level of compassion. The numbers look like this - fewer than 5% of those with a pack-a-day or greater smoking habit successfully quit smoking. Less than 1% of those who endeavor to lose 100 pounds or more do. Less than 1%. One in 100. Ten in 1,000. You could easily do better at any casino. While there was a run-up to the beginning of my weight loss journey that included a year and one half of turning in nutrition sheets and attending online call learning sessions (sometimes, I felt like the smallest person on the call … I know that I was the most fit on a number of the calls). Over two years of dealing with insurance companies who claimed that the surgery my physicians were prescribing was “cosmetic.” I thought then, as I do now, that paying for a one-time surgery vs. the cost of decades of diabetes medication is a loser for the insurance company. Unless, of course, they plan on burying you before you get too expensive. With the current popularity of the GLP inhibitors, diabetes drugs that have a pretty decent track record with weight loss, I spent some time at Ruby Hospital investigating them as well. That’s medical weight loss, as opposed to surgical weight loss. I plan on being on this side of the turf for another 30 years and didn’t like the idea of a new drug with not fully understood long-term implications. My team recommended the surgical approach, and that’s what we did. The pivot date for me was June 18th of this year when I went in for surgery and had over 80% of my stomach removed. Technically a gastric sleeve. I need to thank my surgeon Dr. Lawrence Tabone at WVU/Ruby Hospital for what I consider to be an amazing gift. For the first time in my adult life, my body tells me “enough, stop eating” There is magic behind this, and a lot of it came from Rachel Allio, my dietician who counseled me all the way through this process. Those who know me know that I can be a forceful personality. She spoke truth to my power in a way that resonates with me and made a difference for me. As with most medical professionals, knowing your stuff is a given. Being able to deliver it in a way to make a difference is a gift. She has that gift, and I’m convinced that it’s the reason my surgeon put her on my case. I’m thankful. What’s going to be different this time? It is what happens between my ears when I make a move to ingest anything. Do I need this? Is it healthy? Is it on my acceptable list? I went from eating whatever was around with no regard for quantity to counting everything. I knew a lot of this stuff before but what I lacked was being intentional. This simple lesson, learned in one of those group sessions (and repeated continuously for 18 months) drove the point home. Message received and acted upon. I’m still doing two or more business meals per day. I’m perfectly happy eating a small part of a high-protein meal. Or a small serving of cottage cheese. I’m not there for the meal; I’m there for the conversation. Or for the business. Or for the friendship. Half of what is put in front of me is going into a “to-go” container, or in the trash. For me, it’s a small price to pay. I don’t eat behind the wheel. I don’t eat behind the keyboard. I don’t eat in front of the television. Eating time is time to eat, not a side car to some other activity. I don’t walk through the door at home and open the fridge. That’s “old Dolph.” Instead, I’m cruising with a water bottle in my right hand most of the time. Hydration is sips all day long because I’m one gulp away from having it come back up the way it went down. I can, and will, do this for the rest of my life. There is no choice, and there is not an alternative that I consider acceptable. I’ve lost enough weight already that I’m considering wearing suspenders with my shorts in quite possibly the worst fashion move you can imagine. In the eight weeks since the surgery, I’ve lost 43 pounds, and the trend line is looking good. I’m off all of my blood pressure medications, and my numbers are normal. I am going to lose one of you – the equivalent, anyway. I am going to lose 200 lbs. For some of your, that might equate top two of you. That’s 10 20-pound bags of kitty litter to you who have feline members of your family. That’s more than what the government considers a standard adult (at 160 pounds). Everything is better. Food tastes better. I don’t have to go to “Omar the Tentmaker” to buy a shirt. I’ve dropped two sizes in pants … which results in a selection that is probably an entire order of magnitude larger. I sleep through the night very soundly, and wake refreshed. Losing those 43 pounds has felt like the weight loss rolled the clock back 20 years. I’m not going back to 383 pounds. My life does depend on it. I’m surrounded by amazing family, and probably better than I deserve medical professionals. I thank you all, and it was a good use of your skills and my insurance companies’ money. Like those who have dealt with addiction, I have to wake up every morning and suppress the “fat man” inside who’s desperately trying to take over. I’m not about to let him win. I’m doing this for me. And it’s going to get done and stay done. Read the full article

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