#she’s actually in med school though i am not

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

[madamechrissy]

=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡

=͟͟͞♡ Pairings:-Doctor Gojo x Intern F!Reader

=͟͟͞♡ Contents/warnings- Descriptive edical procedures, reader has a medical issue, crazy sexual tension, light angst, tons of humor, workplace relationship, kissing and teasing, the hospital is lowkey slutty. Reader like 26, Dr. Gojo 34- Grey's vibes ✨️

=͟͟͞♡ Word Count- this chap- 8.7k

=͟͟͞♡ Summary- You are the top Surgical Doctor intern, along with Maki, Yuta and Toge. You all are exhausted from passing the first month, sixteen plus hour days, days you don't even go home, all to get a top spot with the star Surgeon, Dr. Gojo, your resident doctor and boss. Or as you call him, Dr. Hojo. He's takes nothing serious but his surgeries it seems, and has a reputation for being a player, but he has that top spot, so you want to prove your worth! You just have to ignore those stupid butterflies he gives you, and those pretty blue eyes, along with his interest in you, and focus!

♡ Reblogs and comments appreciated ♡

=͟͟͞♡ Part Two =͟͟͞♡ Playlist =͟͟͞♡ Masterlist

♡ Part Three ♡

One Week Later- the OR

“Intern, those fingers ready?” Dr. Gojo says to you, as you hold the severed finger of the patient in front of you, you’ve already cleaned them out, removing the damaged tissue. Maki is watching you eagerly from the window above, as if she’s dying to get her hand on the fingers, nibbling on a snack with Yuta as they watch. You look at Gojo, nodding now. “Perfect, now come over here.”

You stand next to Dr. Gojo in the OR now, a little overheated in your face mask, holding the finger steady as he begins to work on restoring the ligaments. You watch him avidly, his expert fingers under those latex purple gloves, precise to every millimeter, wiring the finger as you hold it. It’s quiet in the room, just the two of you and the sleeping patient, along with one of the nurses checking the vitals.

“What am I doing right now, Intern?” Satoru asks, peering up at you through his goggles, only serving to magnify the blue of his eyes.

 “Wiring the tendons, Dr. Gojo.”

“Exactly, and how many hours do we typically have to do this successfully?” He asks softly.

“Twenty four hours, though everything after six hours poses a risk.”

“Perfect. How are you at sutures?”

“I’m the suture queen. I am in quilting classes, you know.” You tease, he chuckles a bit then, as the nurse hands you the needle and thread. You take it with steady hands, pouring antiseptic on the exposed finger, now put back together from Gojo. He’s right next to you, watching everything you do carefully.

“Nice, very nice. Almost as good as me, actually.” You smile under your mask at the praise, as he stands so very close you can smell his cologne even in the room that smells like pure rubbing alcohol and cleaner, you can feel the body heat of him, but you focus.

You slowly continue your sutures, making sure to be as even as possible, looping the skin together bit by bit as Dr. Gojo watches you. He does not instruct you, he merely holds it in place and allows you to finish, once you do he inspects it and hums to himself in satisfaction.

“Do you want to wire the tendons?”

“Fuck yes! Oh shit…” You blush now, thankful he can’t see, but you hear his soft laughter then. “Can I?”

“Only way to learn is to do it. I’ll be guiding you.” One hand presses against your back for just a moment as he switches your positions now, making you tremble, nerves going insane as you see Maki giving you a big thumbs up. Gojo laughs as he looks at her. “You have a fan club.”

“Not like yours Dr. Gojo.” You tease, now grabbing the wire.

“And what’s this technique called?”

“Tension band wiring.”

“You’re a little nerd.” You gasp, and the nurse laughs a bit. “It’s not a bad thing, you just are one.”

“Aren’t we all who go to med school?” You ask, carefully starting to gently wire the tendons together, Satoru is right against you now.

“Figure eight motions, there you go. Beautiful.” He murmurs again, and you’re eating up the praise, the nurse steps out for a moment since he is now stable, as you’re finishing up, when suddenly something is stabbing you in your temple. You cry out, gasping, and Satoru looks at you with concern.

“What’s wrong?” He whispers, leaning closer, and you shake your head, taking a breath as you continue to finish suturing his finger up.

“I’m so sorry.” You manage to say.

“Sorry? Your hands haven’t wavered, you’re okay. What’s going on?”

“Really bad stabbing ache. I’ve had them before but this was bad… shit… please don’t-”

“I won’t tell anyone.” He assures you quietly, and your eyes flutter shut for just a moment now that he’s taken over, arms wrapped around and working over you, for a moment you lean back against his chest, before panicking. “It’s fine, no one’s watching anymore, take a moment.”

“It’s not professional-”

“You did great. Why don’t we… talk about that headache later?” You sigh, leaning against him for just a moment, feeling his heart pounding against your back steadily, slowly, it feels far too good, to shut your tired eyes and breathe.

“You don’t have to worry about it. You have enough to do.” You say softly, straightening up now and starting to apply the antiseptic carefully. Satoru stands next to you again, and you already miss him behind you, complete insanity surely.

“Just come to my office after you clean up. Yeah?” He says, the nurses come in then, and you nod carefully.

“Do you think he’ll play piano again?” You ask, carefully inspecting both of your handiwork now, the fingers sutured beautifully, but still, you know he has quite a recovery ahead. “I found him on Youtube, he’s amazing.”

“You get so mushy and attached.” He teases, you just smile.

“I guess I do. It’s a bad habit.”

“Very bad. But… I do think he’ll play again, it may take some practice and time, but we did very well.” You exhale in relief, finishing up as Dr. Gojo walks out, the pain in your head starting to come back once more.

“Shit…” You whisper under your breath, anxiety making your heart race now, but you shove it down, focusing.

Later after cleaning up and heading to Satoru’s office, it’s cracked open and you peek in, earning his laugh when he sees you. “Hey it’s not a Scooby mystery, Daphne. Well… maybe Velma, you’re so nerdy.”

You glare now, making him grin with those glinting white teeth. “You’re a regular Scooby Doo, but for sweets and BJs.” You shut the door behind you, he holds a hand to his chest.

“Ouch! That one hurts, you’re saying blow jobs are my Scooby Snacks!?” You roll your eyes.

“I’m just making sure I’m not stepping in on a… Hojo moment.”

Satoru’s lips curl up on one side, hands in the pockets of his slacks, lab coat behind his hips then, revealing his long, lithe legs. He is tilting his head, white hair falling just so. “A Hojo moment hmm? Like me and you at that party?”

“Shh!” You’re leaned up, hand on his mouth, as he laughs against your palm, heating it up. “We did nothing.”

“You know orgasms help headaches? Scientifically- don’t go!”

“You’re an ass.” You’re snatched up by him then, big hands on your narrow shoulders, frozen in place with him behind you.

“Sorry, sorry. Can’t blame me for teasing you, Miss cancels our date.”

“I really did get crazy busy, family shit. I’m sorry.” You turn back to him, feeling his fingertips brush your bare skin as they slip down your arms, and see he is pouting, you giggle then.

“You laugh at my pain, brat?”

“Brat! You’re a brat. No, your pout is why I giggled, it’s cute.” You tap his lips now, remembering the feel of them on yours, fuck it had been a long week since you two had shared that moment in your room, you may or may not have played with yourself to the memory… maybe or maybe not several times this week.

Not that you’d tell him though. Just stress relief!

Yeah?

Yeah…

“I promise I’ll make it up. I felt bad… it was actually my cousin. She had a baby recently and came down with something.”

“So you spent your only day off doctoring?”

You sigh. “Yep.”

“Nerd.”

“Hey!” He’s laughing again.

“Fine, what about a drink at the bar across the street after work then? Something easier?”

Drinks with Gojo. Dr. Hojo.

Bad idea.

“Sure.”

Fuck. Maybe you can keep your pants on this time…

“Better not stand me up, missy.” He taps your forehead now. “I want to do a CT scan first, MRI if I see anything too crazy. That okay with you?”

“But I have work, Dr. Gojo… rounds…”

“Have your friends cover for just like thirty minutes, okay? Do they know you have headaches?” He asks, eyeing you as if you’re a case now. You know that look, you see it on him constantly as he assesses his patients.

“How do you know I get them alot?”

“You rub your temples all the time, and your neck. But I figured stress and exhaustion. It could just be that. But…” He trails off, brushing back a lock of your hair now, making your body light up with the gentlest brush. “Humor me and let me see inside your head.”

“You wanna be inside me so bad.” His eyes get lidded at your joke, and your breath catches at the look on his pretty face. “Fuck, bad joke.”

“Hmm, no… it’s true.” He tilts your chin up, your breaths mingling now, as the door knocks, and you step away quickly, only to earn his lazy gaze. “Those scrubs hide such a nice little body.”

“Shush Hojo.” You smack at him now, and he opens the door, you notice it’s Miwa, he lets her in and you tense up, ready to leave, what is their deal? And why do you care!? It’s not like you all have done anything but make out and…

And…

Fuck you can’t get his demon doctor fingering skills out of your damn head, it’s like he’s implanted there, whispering your anatomy just to fuck with you. You shake yourself out of it as Satoru talks to Miwa now.

“Could you prep a CT for me please, Miwa?”

“Of course I can. Hello Doctor!” She says brightly to you, you both had been much better this week after the intense situation where she’d questioned you, now she seems to truly respect you more. Though you wish it wasn’t just Gojo’s words.

“Hello Miwa. How are you handling today? It’s been crazy.”

“I know, ugh. I’m good, I’m about to leave for the day, I’ll prep it for you, Dr. Gojo, here’s the notes for the recovery of that patient you all just worked on too.” He takes them and smiles.

“Thanks Miwa. Have a good night.” She bounces off, and he smirks down at you, snowy lashes lowering. “You’re jealous.”

“What!? No! Of what, sucking Dr. Hojo’s dick?” You cross your arms, scowling up at his snarky expression.

“It was once. I don’t tend to go on dates or carry on, you know.”

“So why ask me?”

“Maybe you’re… different.” You pause at that, blinking a bit when he steps close once more. “Maybe I really can’t get your anatomy out of my mind.”

“Shush. CT scan.” You whisper, he’s too goddamn close, leaning low over you, so close you’re studying his perfect skin and his high cheekbones, fuck he’s even prettier up close. It’s really annoying.

Those blue eyes are absolutely stunning, of course they are, but it’s not just the color, it’s all of the things emoted in his eyes, the intensity of them. Your eyes keep darting to his lips, even when the throbbing in your head comes back, you gently rub your temple as you keep flickering your gaze back to his eyes, soon his cool fingers replace your own, rubbing gently.

“You don’t want to admit you liked it.” Satoru says softly, his breath tickling you as he presses in, your eyes close at how good it feels, sighing.

“I want to be taken seriously, Satoru. Not to be the intern that gets favored because she fucks her boss.”

“You stress too much. Maybe that’s the cause of the headaches.”

“Hmm… maybe.” You lean closer now, continuing to let him rub your temples further. “You assume I wanna fuck you, Dr. Hojo.”

“Oh, it’s an educated guess. By all your body language.”

“Shush, keep rubbing.” His chest shakes against your hands with laughter as he gently cradles your face in his hands now, pressing his lips to your temple. “That feels too good, better stop.”

“You’re really annoying, intern. Mmmkay go get yourself covered so we can get it done yeah?”

“Meet you there.”

*****

“I hate this shit, I feel like I gotta pee.” You grumble now, as Satoru is injecting the contrast dye into your arm, making you feel like you’re hot everywhere as you lay on your back right outside of the machine. Satoru’s lips quirk up, you try to ignore how good the man looks as your doctor for just a moment.

Impossible.

“I know, it’s the worst, but just for a few. I’ll be right over there, looking all inside you.”

“Fuck off.” You stick your tongue out and he wiggles his brows, stepping out of the room, you get tense, feeling yourself breathing a little too fast as he now speaks through the microphone.

“Alright, pretty patient.”

“You’re flirting with your patient during a CT scan?” His teasing eases your nerves, though you don’t admit it outright, a little smile plays on your lips.

“Only patients this pretty.” He murmurs, and you ignore the blush on your cheeks, must be the contrast dye overheating you. “I’m easing you in, yeah? Just stay as still as you can and breathe.”

“Yes, Sir.” He hums then a bit, and you’re sliding into the donut shaped scanner, you always hate these things. As it starts swirling around your head in circles, you try to ignore the whirring sound, the overwhelming fear, what could be wrong, what could it mean-

“Don’t panic, it’s fine. Just checking okay?” Satoru’s voice interrupts your thoughts over the speaker now. Your nails are digging into your palm, a little sheen of moisture on your eyes that you suck up.

“Yeah.” Is all you manage, then it’s quiet as Satoru finishes the scan, as you’re eased out, he’s right there, unhooking you from the IV carefully, holding your arm and pressing a white square cotton to where he’d poked.

“You bleed a lot. Anemic?” He asks, and you should be surprised he knows, but he knows everything it seems.

“Just a bit, yes. I know, I should take my iron.”

“Mmm, anemia is pretty common in women, especially since I think all I see you eat is coffee. Maybe eat more? And add some protein?” He teases.

“I eat! But I’ll add some. Thank you, Dr. Gojo.” You take his hand to help you out of the little bed then, ignoring as much as you can how good his hands feel when he steadies you by your waist, warm and pressing against your skin. Your heart races as you look up at him. “Did you see anything interesting?”

His lips tense a bit, more serious now. “I saw a little interesting spot right there, but I wanna look at it more. I’ll call you to go over it in a few?”

“Sounds good, thank you.” You manage, you don’t know how much he’s hiding or what he’s found.

“Don’t stress, intern, I will tell you if it is, yeah?” You exhale, nodding, leaning up a bit, lashes lowered as you take in those perfect lips.

“If I’m gonna die-”

“Shut it. Now get to those rounds.” He whispers, breath so close you can taste it, minty always with the mints and gum he constantly chews.

“Got it Doc.” He snorts at you, fingers brushing your jaw line, as you contemplate his jaw line, so much more defined, his face is so chiseled… his body…

Fuck.

You clear your throat, smiling. “That’s much better. I’ll talk to you soon, don’t stress about it okay?”

Sure you won’t.

*****

“Maki, what if I die before interning is over?” You grumble next to your best friend as you all make the rounds, Maki snorts now.

“Gonna die of no Dr. Gojo dick?”

“Bitch shush!” She snorts as you look around wildly.

“No bitch, you shush. Why do you think you’re dying? I mean… we all are, but why so soon? You can’t die, I need to live with you.”

“You can have the house.”

“I still want you around!” You both pause in front of the patient’s door now, sighing and looking at each other. “Is something actually wrong?”

“I’m just panicking. I have some bad headaches… and did a CT.” You murmur, she frowns then, emerald eyes studying you seriously behind her black frames.

“Everything okay?” She asks, a little softer.

“I’m sure it is, I just panic when I don’t know the answers to things. Fuck… I could use some lorazepam in the arm.” You joke, she giggles with you.

“We all could, that’s for sure. Oh fuck… look.”

You take the chart from Maki then, raising your brows as you look at the patient’s records. “They’re blue?”

You both look at each other then eagerly pace to the room, where indeed there’s a young man, and he is in fact blue. He smiles a bit at you both, waving his silvery blue tinted fingers. “Hello ladies.”

“Hello.” You both say, looking at each other, then back at him. He laughs now, sighing.

“I know, I look like Papa Smurf.”

“No!” You say.

“Yes!” Maki says, and then the three of you burst out in laughter.

“At least you’re honest.” He muses, and the both of you approach him now, you take his hand and turn it over, seeing the palms were more of a typical color.

“When did this start happening?” You ask softly, Maki is checking his vitals, not hiding her curiosity.

“I’ve been blue for… probably a month. I’ve just hidden in my house.” You put aside the medical curiosity then, you feel the pain hidden in his voice. “Didn’t wanna scare the masses.”

“Anything in particular you consume? Colloidal Silver can cause this.” You say softly, he shakes his head then.

“I don’t think so? I’d know if I took silver, right?”

“Yes, it’s a supplement. Hmm… and anyone else in the family ever…”

“Turn blue?” He finishes. You nod. “No. Not that I know of?”

Maki and you look at each other, and you can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. You’re thinking it too, but it’s so rare and so weird.

“Methemoglobinemia?” She murmurs, and you tilt your head, sighing.

“I mean it’s possible, but that’s genetic, he’d have been blue. But let’s check for that and any potential exposures to chemicals that could cause this. It’s definitely not a typical case of methemoglobinemia, but we have to rule it out. Don’t worry, we’ll get you all figured out…” You check his name. “Muta, yeah?”

“Yeah. You mean I may not be blue anymore?”

“We’ll figure out what’s going on, I promise.” The door opens then, and Miwa comes in, gasping a bit, before smiling. Muta lights up when he sees her, his eyes glinting, you see it then, he has a crush.

“Your hair is the color of my skin, we’re meant to be.” Muta teases, Miwa laughs softly, coming in then as you two fill her in.

“Got it ladies, I’ll get these labs going.”

“Thanks Miwa.” You say, patting Muta’s shoulder. “We’ll get you back to normal, I promise.”

“Thank you, Doctor. And Doctor Maki.” She gives him a thumbs up, and you both walk out now, as the fluorescent lights make your headache worse. You wince now, rubbing your head again.

“Take a break babe, it’s okay. He’s not dying, he's just blue.” She says, as you are shaking your sore head now. Your phone goes off and you see it’s a text from your ex, you roll your eyes. “The ex?”

“Of course it is. Begging to see me over and over. I’m dreading the moment he comes to the house.”

“Shit, he’s really missing that coochie-”

“Maki!”

“It has cobwebs now.”

“You bitch!” You shove at her now, as Yuta and Toge walk up, both laughing at the two of you. Toge tilts his head when you rub your temples again.

“Hurt?” He asks quietly, you nod, sighing when his hand is on your forehead, you moan just slightly at how cool it feels.

“Feels so good.” You take his hand, pressing more, then feel him tense. You look up to see he’s bright red, and then he runs away. Your brows go together, as you blink in confusion, and Yuta covers his face, shaking his head.

“And you tease him! To torture him!” Yuta says, you glare then.

“What now!? His hand felt cool.” You grimace, leaning against the gray counter of the reception, as everyone flits back and forth by you.

“Hey you alright?” Yuta asks softer now, brushing back your hair.

“She’s got a nasty migraine again.” Maki murmurs, then comes with a little paper cup of water. “Drink babe.”

“Thank you.” You sip the cold water now, feeling it chill your lips and teeth. “Did I really upset Toge again?”

“He’s just in love with you, now you touched him. He’s going to be infatuated for days. I’ll have to hear.” Yuta winces now, you laugh, sucking in a breath as it starts to ache worse.

“He barely talks, how do you know?”

“It’s obvious. But you’re too into white haired doctors.” Maki whispers, earning a smack on her hand when she touches your forehead. “Hmm, no fever.”

Your phone goes off again, and thankfully it’s Gojo and not your annoying ass ex, you don’t need more of a headache. “Oh, he has results. I should go… can you-”

“We’ve got it, go.” Maki murmurs. You smile thankfully, heading towards Satoru’s office now. You knock carefully.

“Come on in.” You shut the door behind you, and Satoru smiles easily, calming your nerves somewhat.

“Come check out your brain, it’s pretty cool.” You laugh softly, and come to where he’s sitting, leaning over to peer at your brain on his laptop now. “So this… is what I think is causing your headaches.”

You look then to a little mass, panicking, damn near falling back, so much he has to catch you with his big hands. “A tumor!?”

“Calm down, no. Shh.” Satoru sits you right on his thigh then, brushing a hand down your back, tilting your chin to look at him. “I wouldn’t casually say ‘you have a tumor’ like that. Breathe.”

“Shit.” You take several breaths, leaning your head back, trying to compose yourself. “So what is that then?”

“Kind of a tumor?”

“Dr. Gojo!”

“I’ll explain if you calm down.” He presses his hands on your waist gently, pointing back to the screen. “So it’s something called a false tumor, it’s typically from head contusions. Bash your head on anything a couple years back?”

You steady your breathing now, trying to focus. “Shit, yeah I did. I was getting some things from the attic and had a whole bunch of old dvd players whack me in the head.”

“Ancient ass.” He teases.

“Hey I have VCRs up there too!”

“Fuck you’re old.”

“You’re old!” He’s chuckling now, and you can’t help but laugh softly. “You’re doing it again, cheering me up.”

“Yeah, and it worked.” He taps your nose, watching it scrunch, little crinkles on the sides of his own brilliant blue eyes as he smiles. You realize then, you don’t want to get off his lap, fuck you wanna stay here. You feel good here. His arm casually wrapped around you, and suddenly you realize your warmth on his thigh, gulping now. Did he notice!?

He notices everything.

“I should…” You go to stand, and he presses you back down, firm thigh between your thighs, pressing up where it shouldn’t through the thin fabric of your scrubs.

“You should stay, let me explain what it is. Yeah?” You nod a bit, realizing that for just a bit you couldn’t think about your head hurting, even as you all are staring right at a scan of your brain. Satoru uses one of his long fingers to point at the spot, where you see it raised up. “A false tumor.”

“False tumors, I haven’t heard much about them.”

“It’s essentially intercranial hypertension, which translates to your brain is stressy-stressy.” You snort in laughter then, and his hand far too casually brushes down the outside of your thigh as he leans forward, pressed so close against you.

“My brain is in fact stressy.”

“See! I’m so smart, admit it.” He grins deviously, you snort in laughter at him, shaking your head.

“A little bit.” You gesture, squishing just a bit of space between your finger and your thumb now.

“I’ll take it. So there’s no sense removing it, seeing as that’s just opening a can of worms. A spinal tap would help relieve the pressure.”

“Spinal tap, yuck.” He rolls his eyes.

“You’re a big baby.”

“Am not. But yuck. Anything else? Lots of tylenol?” You find yourself turning now, he’s pulled you further on his lap, it shouldn’t feel this easy, this normal. Why does your head hurting not even matter now that you’re so close to him, now that you inhale his cologne, feel his touch.

“That sounds like liver problems waiting.”

“Well my wine at night does that.” You say with a smile.

“A little wine is good for you. Blood flow.” Satoru murmurs, gently running his fingertips up and down your arms now, you tremble just a bit at it, at how good it feels, a network of goosebumps left in his wake. His blue eyes darken just a bit as he watches them form, and suddenly it’s very quiet.

“Blood flow is good.” You say softly, to fill the silence, where all you hear is the pounding in your ears. “So any option three?”

“I can inject you with something to help the pain, but you really can’t put off the tap too long. When do you actually get a break?”

“Um…” You try to focus. “I get Thanksgiving weekend off?”

“Okay we’ll do it around then.”

“You can’t just come do a tap on a holiday!”

“Sure I can, I’ll be here a couple hours anyway. But you’ll have to lie still for some time, so I just wanna make sure you have a day off.”

“Alright, the injections till then?”

“Mmhmm.” He’s closing the laptop now, and you hear your heartbeat just racing, blood pumping in your ears, Satoru raises a thin white brow. “Are you alright?”

“It’s odd, the headache is gone when you… touch me. That sounds stupid, ugh.” You stand now, covering your face with a sigh. Satoru turns you so you’re right between his long legs now, hands firm on the curve of your hips.

“It doesn’t sound stupid. You’re getting endorphins from this.” He whispers now, so pretty this close he makes you ache, Maki is right maybe you do have cobwebs there, and his touch ignites your body. Like you’re on fire, especially when he cups your face.

“Satoru, what are we doing?” You whisper, he sighs, thumb brushing across your lower lip.

“Feeling things. You think too much. So dramatic, a fake tumor and alll.”

“Jerk!” You shove at him, unable to stop the grin from forming, craving his touch, more and more, when he pulls you flush against him you melt, hands bracing on his chest now, feeling the strong muscles flex under your touch.

“We should touch more if it helps your head.” His lips are right there, your noses touching as you hover, his snowy lashes lowering over dilated eyes, hands slipping up your back, one big one splaying the expanse of it. You press even closer, feeling the heat in your tummy building. Fuck would it hurt to just-

Suddenly both of your pagers go off. “Shit, code blue.”

“Shit.” Satoru and you both jump up now, rushing out into the busy hallway, you both round the corner, the chaos of the ER coming into view. Nurses and doctors moved with a choreographed precision, each step calculated and deliberate, as one of your patients from this week is in cardiac arrest.

“Shit shit shit.” You mutter under your breath, you rush in to see one of your elderly patients this morning now flat lining. You quickly begin compressions, pressing over and over as Satoru runs in, looking at the clipboard, studying you. “We need epi!” You say to the nurse, and Satoru stops her. “Satoru!”

“DNR, intern.” He turns the paper and shows you, the giant three letters, you gasp then, looking down at the lady you are working on.

“She has kids, she has-”

“She has a choice. Off now.”

You release her now, feeling tears flow as you watch the monitor completely flatline now, you remember her kids were literally just here, with her grandkids. She was laughing, smiling. You almost thought she was doing better…

“Intern, call time of death.” Satoru says.

You scowl at him through your tears, even if you know he’s right, and he sets his lips in a firm line. You see Maki, Yuta and Toge right outside the room, their eyes looking at you with concern, with worry. “Time of death is five- fifty- one PM.”

The nurse nods and writes it down, and you carefully cover the patient with one of the thin hospital sheets. “You can’t save everyone, you know.”

“I know, I know.” You choke up then, that headache right back, making you feel sick. “But to not save someone I could?”

“Her choice was to go. She’s been in pain a long time.” Satoru says, coming to stand next to you now, you feel bile rise in your throat.

“She seemed so happy today, so energetic even!?”

“Sometimes you get that burst of energy at the end. Maybe it’s… a bigger plan out there, to give your family something of what you used to be at the end.” You look at him through watery eyes, just exhausted.

Finger surgery.

A blue man.

Your own CT scan.

Some false tumor?

Now a death.

You want to go home. You want to lay in bed, curled in a ball in the dark, where maybe your head won’t pound. You want to throw up. You want to sleep for fucking days, trying to just not think. You want to just…

“Martha, her name was Martha.” You say now, and Satoru nods, a hand on your shoulder.

“Her name was Martha. Do you want me to tell the family?”

“No, she’s my patient. I will.” He nods then, eyes following you as you stiffly walk out, Maki, Yuta and Toge all come to you, but you hold a hand up. You’re barely keeping it together as it is, if one of them hugs you, you know you’ll fall apart. “I’m fine you all, promise.”

As you tell the family she passed, instead of the typical extreme upset, they almost seem a bit relieved, upset but relieved. “She was in so much pain, I think now… she’s free of it. Do you?” Martha’s son asks, and you struggle to hold you composure, feeling your stomach want to retch it’s contents, which were literally just coffee and a fucking croissant from this morning.

“She’s not in pain anymore.” You agree softly, and Martha’s granddaughter, about your age comes next to her dad now, looking at him, then you.

“Did she seem peaceful?” She asks softly, you nod then, giving a touch of comfort to her shoulder.

“She did, she seemed so happy to have been with you all I think. You may see her if you wish to.”

“We would like that. Thank you.” After they walk out you watch them pass by Satoru, who has his eyes on you.

You can’t let him see you so weak! You shouldn’t be so weak, you’re a doctor, you see death every single day. You rush into the locker room, thankfully finding it empty, before heading to the bathroom, leaning in and emptying the contents of your stomach, retching everything out. You get so weak as you do, dry heaving then as you feel yourself falling apart.

You’re sobbing over the toilet, flushing it, when you hear the door open and close, and suddenly you feel hands on your back. You shake your head, taking several breaths. “Go away, it’s gross.”

“You just cleaned out fingers that were cut off.” Satoru says softly, you laugh then, in between tears, as he holds your hair back for you. “Aw it’s like we’re besties, just having drinks you know.”

“Oh stop it. I’d kiss you if I didn’t just puke.”

“Please don’t, I don’t like you that much.” You laugh once more, before bursting into tears, and Satoru holds you, brushing your hair gently as you cling to him. “It’s normal to break down, surprised it took you so long. Been months.”

“I want to keep it together. I want to so badly.” You’re soaking his light purple scrub top, you see the blotches of tears forming as you cry more, letting him hold you. “Why are you so…”

“So handsome? So smart?”

“So comfy.”

“Huh, didn’t expect that one. Calling me fat, brat?” You giggle again, looking up at him now, his pretty face swims with how many tears you have.

“Not at all, no body fat on you. Just… comfortable I guess.” Your hand rests right over his heart, feeling it steady under you, trying to make your heart match, to slow your breathing down. Maki walks in then, kneeling quickly, brushing your hair back.

“Baby, you okay?” She asks softly, and you manage a weak little nod, as she kisses your head. “You’ve had a long day.”

“We all do, I shouldn’t act like this.”

“Babe we all puked at some point. Yuta was the first day.”

“He’s got a weak stomach, that one.” Satoru says, then looks at you and Maki with a little smile. “Maki, stay with her for a bit, I’ll get her some zofran, and I’ll get you something for the headache, yeah?”

You nod weakly, holding his hand then. “Thank you.” You say, he runs a thumb over your knuckles and just stands then, heading out. Maki cups your face carefully, studying you.

“You okay? Seriously.”

“I have some… fake tumor thing.” She gasps. “No, no, it’s fake. I don’t know… Satoru said maybe a spinal tap?”

“Satoru huh. Chummy.” You roll your eyes, sniffling as she helps you up. “Let’s brush your teeth, you don’t wanna kiss your doctor like this.”

“Maki, I can't kiss him. I can’t be with him.” You choke up once more.

“Just stay careful and sure you can. Do you think he’s serious though, or is it one of his… what do you call them?”

“Hojo moments.” You brush your teeth in the sink, grimacing at your appearance, you have mascara streaked under the dark circles of your eyes.

“Hojo moments… well about Miwa, seems like her and Papa Smurf are actually hitting it off. He’s hot now that his blue is fading.”

You perk up now, brows raising. “The blue is fading!?”

“Mmhmm, your first guess of methemoglobinemia was correct. Does that make you feel better maybe?” Maki’s eyes are concerned, you nod then, making her smile return just a bit. “Knew it, Miss know it all.”

“That’s you!” You spit out toothpaste, rinsing your mouth out now, as both of you laugh. The alarm goes off, your shift is done. “How’d it not present itself for so long I wonder?”

“I’m wondering the same thing. Already started the Methylene blue and Insane doses of Vitamin C. It’ll take a bit but he’ll be normal soon.” You wash up your face now, dabbing the bits of mascara off.

“One good thing today.”

“Two good things.” Satoru says, as you and Maki head to the locker room. “The finger surgery seems successful so far, we’ll keep him and monitor, but he could feel them.” You grin at that, at least something was going good today, aside from the ever more comfortable presence of Doctor Gojo.

“That is good news!”

“Now have a seat, let me make you feel good.” He teases with a grin, Maki snorts then, heading to her locker.

“Let me get out of here first, god.” You stick your tongue out, as Maki is sliding off her scrub top.

“I should get out of these real quick too if that’s okay? Before you poke me.” You say, he nods then, setting down the two vials.

“Let’s all get naked then, ladies.”

“Oh jesus.” Maki is dressed quickly, sliding her jacket on while Satoru is undressing, she sees him shirtless then and gives you an audacious wink, earning another eye roll from you. “Is she good to drive Dr. Hunk?”

“She’ll be fine from it, don’t worry. If not, I'll take her home. Having a drink after work anyway.” Maki pats your head once more, kissing your forehead then.

“See you home then. Night Dr. Hunk.” Satoru is giving some smoldering look that makes you and Maki both almost pee your pants, as she leaves you both alone now. Satoru has slid into a soft long sleeve black shirt and dark jeans, as you’ve gotten into your own clothes, you keep your jacket off, sitting on the bench and holding your arm out now.

“It needs to get injected in your ass.” He says then, and you gasp, making him grin wide.

“No way!”

“Yes way. Not the zofran, that’s just a little pill. Open up, pretty.” You open your mouth now, and he places the little pill under your tongue, gently closing your mouth with his fingers pressing your chin up.

“Fuck I hope it works quick.” You sigh as it dissolves, Satoru nods and tears open the package now, grinning like a devious ass devil. “You really gotta do this in my ass cheek!?”

“I really do. I’ll be completely professional, no worries.”

“Uh-huh sure. Well… alright then.” You turn now, unzipping your jeans and pulling them down, revealing your ass cheeks and your panties. He whistles, a hand coming to trace the bottom of them now, making your tummy clench with desire from just that. “So professional.”

“I need the panties off.”

“You do not. Dr. Pervert.”

“I’m Dr. Hojo and Dr. Pervert now?”

“Mmhmm. Fine, you little shit.” You slide down your panties completely, and his breath catches as he sees you, suddenly he’s quiet, then he’s bending down to sit on the bench, turning your now bare ass to him.

“You hiding that ass in your scrubs is such a crime.” You shake your head, ignoring how good his touch feels, even as he’s dabbing an alcohol pad on it, his breath against your skin does insane things, you have trouble forming a word.

“Your flattery works on those girls because you’re hot, not because you have any rizz, you’re so rizzless.”

“Rizzless my ass.”

“Ow!” Satoru has jabbed the shot in your ass cheek then, it stings and burns, you cry out, nearly jerking, so he holds you still with a hand on your hip. “You jabbed it hard on purpose!”

“Aw, need me to take it easy when I stick it in, baby?”

“Oh fuck off! Oh… I… mmm…” Suddenly the headache you’ve had all damn day is easing, you sigh now, feeling so blissful you can ignore the fact that your ass stings. You ease your panties up now, then your jeans, sighing as you turn to him, they’re still unbuttoned and unzipped, his eyes are locked right on you. “That felt so good, thank you Satoru.”

“You’re welcome, intern.” He murmurs, softly, watching you zip up your jeans and button them. “You’ll still need the tap, it’ll help for months.”

“I will. Thank you for everything today, really.” You cup his face now, before thinking better of it, pressing your lips against his softly. “A thank you kiss.”

“Can I get a thank you hand job? I’m having an issue.” You shake your head with a laugh, running your fingers through his soft hair.

“Absolutely not. But you can buy me a drink.” You grab your jacket and slide it on, and he eagerly hops up.

“Yeah?” His blue eyes light up, melting you further.

“Yeah. I’ll meet you there, Dr. Pervert.” You grab your keys, but Gojo passes you quickly as you all walk out, opening your door before he runs off to the car, making you giddier than you’d admit.

*****

“You’re drinking the fruitiest drink they make.” You say later on, as you both are sitting at the bar, and the bartender hands you a cosmopolitan cocktail, and hands Satoru a Sex on the Beach.

“Lemme enjoy my sex mmkay?” You go to pay and he stops you. “Put it on my tab please, and a tip for now.” Satoru hands the bartender cash, he smiles at the two of you.

“Anything you all want, fruitier even.” You both laugh now, and Satoru and you go find a little table on the side of the bar towards the window, you sit and sip on your drink as your phone buzzes away. You swipe it off.

“Annoying ex?” Satoru asks, leaning back as he looks at you.

“He’s so annoying. It’s been months of me ignoring him, you would think he’d get the hint.”

“And you don’t date now?”

“Um… it’s hard to think about dating with our hours, you know?” He nods then, pouty lips encircling a straw as he sucks up more of his drink, and you wonder at how Satoru makes everything look sexy. “Do you date?”

He flicks his gaze up and down your body slowly, leisurely, as if he’s caressing you with his look. “Are you asking me out, intern?”

“Oh whatever, you asked me!”

“I don’t date right now, no, but I guess I have different reasons.” He murmurs, looking off to the window for a moment.

“Would you date? No, I'm not asking you out.” You say, studying him as he licks his lower lip, drawing your attention further to things you shouldn’t.

“I would, I’m not against it, I guess no one has sparked my interest enough. I mean aside from physically.”

“Any crazy exes?”

“I have an evil ex, actually. She’s scary.” He shivers now, you tilt your head curiously, sipping your own drink, feeling the warmth flow through you.

“Is she now? Like mean?”

“She’s mean alright. We just didn’t work out, our parents pushed us to get married too young, prominent families this and that. But we never even liked each other, she was pretty happy to divorce me. And I was too.” You digest the information slowly, mouth opening just slightly. “Yeah, I was married.”

“I didn’t expect that. You seemed like a bachelor, I guess.”

“I am about to be thirty four, you think I was single this long? Nah, I’m too handsome, baby.”

“Not your baby.” You kick at his feet, but he just grips your thigh now, burning over the layer of denim, and you wish it were on your skin instead.

“Not yet. You’re in love with me already, you just don’t know.”

“Oh am I?” He’s leaning closer across from you, blue eyes glittering in the dim lights of the busy bar.

“Mhm, you are. It’s okay, everyone falls in love with me.”

“You’re so loveable, so humble.”

“I know I am… hey.” You giggle now, smacking his hand off, finishing your little martini off and exhaling.

“I needed this, ugh… thank you Satoru.” He smiles a bit, finishing his as well now. “Your wife was… well, you’re not a guy you leave.”

Shit, you said that.

You cover your face then at his look of surprise. “I’m sorry-”

“Why apologize for that? Sounded like a compliment. But she left for good reasons, we hated each other and were miserable. She still hates me still, but we’re more friendly now. Your boyfriend, did he leave you?”

“No, I left him. He was too controlling and I just… wasn’t feeling it. It sounds so silly compared to an entire marriage.”

“Nah, not at all.”

“I also just put med school first, I really did. I don’t think I gave him the attention he needed. So it’s on me a bit.”

“That’s mature as fuck.” You shrug a bit.

“Well, we had a drink, hmm?”

“Let’s have two?” You sigh, leaning forward on the table, elbow propped up, chin in your hand as you study the handsome man across from you.

“Two sounds like my resolve slips.” You say softly, Satoru leans forward as well, brushing your hair behind your ear, every touch and look making you weaker and weaker for him.

“Would that be so bad, intern? To let go.” You exhale now, leaning into the caress, lashes fluttering shut and casting shadows on your cheeks as he studies you for a moment.

“I have a feeling it would be hard to let you go.”

“Yeah, what if I bust quick? Have a small dick?” You burst into laughter now, and he pouts. “Maybe it is small, meanie.”

“That’s the other rumor, Gojo, that your dick is huge.” He blushes a bit, surprising you. “Oh you didn’t know that one! Shit.”

“I mean I’m not complaining but god, girls are gossipy.”

“Like you’re not!”

“Another drink?” He asks, standing up then, your gaze trails up his lithe, long body, as you feel the warmth spread through you.

“One more.” You agree, and he holds out his hand for you to stand, bringing you almost against him, knowing you’re teetering on the edge of a dangerous game, and when you both grab your next drink, Miwa walks in now, she pauses for a moment, before waving at the two of you and coming over.

“Dr. Gojo, I never see you at the spot.” She says, and for some reason you get nervous, looking down a bit.

“Yeah I decided she wouldn’t meet me for a date so I’d connive her into meeting me here at least.” He ruffles your hair and you huff, fixing it, ignoring the pounding in your heart at how good it felt to hear.

“A date?”

“Well, a pre date. Just a drink but she blew me off.”

“I really didn’t mean to. Um… is this weird or anything Miwa?” You ask nervously, she shakes her head with a little smile.

“Oh no, you’re fine. What you saw um… let’s just say I was having a bad day is all. We’re not together.”

“Heard you like Papa Smurf?” Gojo teases, she smacks at him then.

“He’s sweet. And less blue. Oh, my friends are here! See you two later.” She says, you watch her curiously, and Satoru is smirking down at you.

“Not everyone has to be dating or have feelings. You’re like some eighteen-hundreds Victorian lady.”

“Am not!” You’re laughing again as you all sip another drink, sitting side by side now, your phone goes off again now and you roll your eyes.

“Send him a pic of us together.”

“Shit that’s mean.”

“He’s a dick though? Yeah?”

“You tell me.” You lean close now, showing him the endless texts. Satoru whistles as he reads them, scrolling up. 

“Shit, gaslight much?”

“The king. Fuck you smell good.” Your alcohol is clearly hitting, Satoru chuckles once more, hand stroking up and down your spine carefully.

“You smell good, sweet like lavender.” He speaks right against your ear, tickling it as he inhales now, sighing. “I noticed you switched shampoo back.”

“Hush, it wasn't because of you.”

“Of course not.”

You have the most fun you can remember, fuck when don’t you enjoy Satoru Gojo? When he’s walking you over to your truck, and the music is just a low hum now, though you feel it pulsing through your body, Satoru’s pressing your back against the car door, hands on either side of the top of your car, hard body so good against you. You bite your lower lip, hands sliding down his jacket.

“You want me so bad, you love to fight it. Why?” Satoru says softly, cupping your face with one hand now, leaning low.

“I don’t wanna be a notch in Dr. Hojo’s bed post.” You say softly. “I’m not judging, but I don’t wanna be just that to someone. I totally was going to at the party, ugh, but it’s not me. So, I fight it.”

“I have a feeling if I got you, I wouldn’t want more notches.” His thumb strokes your lip side to side, eliciting a little cry from the back of your throat that you can’t quite stop before it comes out.

“You think so, hmm?”

“Judging by your hot, sweet little pussy, yes.” Your cunt throbs around goddamn nothing, reacting to his words, to him pressing you further against your big old SUV, the cool metal against your back. “Those sounds you make…”

“Fuck… kiss me.”

“You’re demanding. And confusing, you know that?” His soft words are right against your lips, you cry out then, pulling him down as you tiptoe, kissing him over and over, mouth moving over his, his tongue slipped in between your lips. Your tongue slips around his, dancing then, as his big hands grip your waist.

Your hands slide up his chest, entwining around his neck, breasts pressing against his hard abdomen, nipples growing tight as desire fills you more and more. He grabs one of them now, thumb brushing over a peak, eliciting a whimper, your head falling back now, neck begging for his kisses. Satoru’s kissing your neck and grabbing your breast right in front of a damn bar.

It’s insane.

It’s stupid.

Right?

“Fuck I want to feel you again.” His husky voice melts you now, you’re now whining for more and more, pathetic for him, were you worried too much, could you just do this, just have sex? Did there have to be such complicated shit you always put on yourself? “You’re thinking too much.”

“How do you know?” Your words are against his ear now, as you flick your tongue on the earlobe, nipping just a bit.

“I just know, and you need to just feel.” He’s sliding his hand under your shirt, across your tummy, making it tremble under his touch, goosebumps rising. “How’s it feeling, pretty?”

“Feels… fucking good.” He chuckles deeply, as you breathlessly laugh, kissing him over and over. “But I usually need things to mean something. I know I’m lame.”

“That’s not lame.” He cups your face with both hands now, blue eyes boring into yours, the soft glow of the street lights ensconcing him, making him look even more handsome somehow. Even prettier. “It means something when I’m kissing you.”

You feel everything react to him, to his words. “It does?” He nods then, nuzzling your noses together, and his phone goes off, he sighs, scowling at it now.

“The ex?”

“Nah, parents. Worse. Say… you wanna pretend we date so I can bring a girl home for Thanksgiving?”

“What now?” You blink up at him.

“Yeah… they really want me to bring a girl home. You’re perfect too, they’d fucking love if I brought a top notch Kyoto Med school grad?”

“Oh gosh… I mean, I have no plans?”

“Perfect. It will make my mom so damn happy, she’ll love you. Aw we’re moving so fast you know.” He’s grinning wolfishly, eyes glinting down at you.

You love the idea far, far too much. “Alright, a good spinal tap and then I’m a whole Thanksgiving date.”

“Works perfectly for me. Good night, intern.” Satoru kisses you one more time, leaving you breathless.

“Good night, Dr. Gojo.” You slide into your car, covering your face and squealing then, yes you’re squealing like you’re fifteen again, not a twenty six year old doctor. “His kisses…” You squeal again, overheated as you go to start your car with a roar then, hating that you’re like some lovesick teenager.

Then you see him.

Satoru Gojo grinning as he watches you through your window. You gasp, sputtering, limbs flailing as you scream out, rolling down the window then, glaring right at him. “What the fuck!”

“Aw, you do love me. Already. So easy, intern.” Satoru teases, leaning in then, far too close.

“Whatever! Good night Dr. Gojo.”

“You-”

“Bye!” You leave then, catching his reflection in your rearview, stupid giddy grin on your damn face.

Shit this is gonna be messy.

So a LOT in this, I really want to explain how it would be to have SO much going on during a typical day, I hope it doesn't overwhelm her and Dr. Hojo's connection. We will be learning a lot more about Reader's ex and Satoru's ex soon <3

A/N: Totally added my own prob as a medical thing lol ( false brain tumor) they're rare and interesting. I love you all and can't wait to hear your thoughts!!!

Taglist: @lostfracturess @unfortunately-tia @allofffmypeaches @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @antisocialinlw @meg3mis @miizuzu @nanasukii28 @zoeyflower @wstaley2 @bunheadusa @blue-musingss @ameliariddle @moncher-ire @jkslaugh97 @aldebrana @shadeowz @gojo1228 @victoriaaaa00 @jaeminaur @seeing-stars-alt @bol0-de-morang0 @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @trishiepo0 @inthedarkshadows000 @gina239 @jjknanamin

[dunmeshistash]

Hi, so recently there was a dunmeshi signing (?) event with Ryoko Kui in Korea. And I have found some posts from korean fans about their experience and a bunch of illustrations. @Dgae_715 is the acc on twitter i have found most of information from reposts. But basically here are the most relevant facts that I have found (Please note that they may be inaccurate due to me relying on online translator):

A fan asked if post canon Falin will live longer, Ryoko Kui basically answered “maybe so, right?”

The same fan asked if Thistle without desire will able to live happily with the care of others, and as far as I got she said “I hope so”.(Note: I am really not sure if I got this one right at all) The fan themselves said the way Ryoko Kui answered was rather unprepared, so she may not have an answer in mind really on such specific questions.

Another fan asked how Mithrun is in post canon, Ryoko Kui said that he is doing well, working and pursuing hobbies.

Somebody asked Mithruns about strength, he is weaker than a soldier, even though he is got the fighting skills, but he developed them mostly because of his sense of professionalism (?), rather than for fighting.

Past Mithrun didn’t really fight that much, he was mostly an investigator(?), he rarely had to fight in the rear(?) units.

Apparently Falin’s chimera form can get oily, so she repells water a bit

In real life, Marcille would be a med school research student, while Laios would be a “furita” (basically a freelancer with no stable income)

Someone said if Ryoko Kui considered a bad ending for Falin, and Ryoko Kui said she, as an author wanted a happy ending, but in case of Falin, she was worried after the ending (14 volume or later?), but overall she thinks it turned out well. (I think the after the ending refers to her post canon fate, and maybe thats why Ryoko kui did an extra on that specifically later on) 8. Also someone asked if Ryoko Kui would eat the dishes from dunmeshi, and she replied she is a picky eater, and she also said to someone that she drew dishes that she liked and disliked in dunmeshi (I bet she doesnt like fruitcakes).

(Note: There is a 90% chance I got this completely wrong, translator was struggling a LOT here) Someone asked about what Laios is good at, she replied “when he is a party member”. 9. She also likes Lord of the Rings and Wizardly 6(?), and she likes Skip and Loather

When asked about what word definies Laios, she said he is actually a normal/usual person(?). I have lost the post with this specific answer, so I am going by my memory;-;

Some fan showed her that picture with Tennant Chilchuck, she didnt recognise the actor unfortunately. Also apparently this meme originated from Korean dunmeshi fandom???

There were other questions and answers too, but they mostly about Ryoko Kui. And I also may have forgotten to add some;-; Also some fan suggested to Ryoko Kui that Falin in the real life should be a dentist by the way she makes them drool(????I think they meant it in non-sexual manner, like an excited dog), they kind of laughed about it. Also Ryoko Kui drew Falin the most(?) for signing postcards, other characters, and only 5-6 Senshis, 2 Winged Lions

Anonymous asked: The same anon with Korean sign event ask. I knew I forgot something, but basicaly some fan showed Ryoko Kui the day dream picture that most of fandom presumes to be a Chilchuck’s wife and asked if its true, she answered “Its up to your imagination”. So basically neither no or yes

Thank you! I LOVE SKIP AND LOAFER WEEEE

Hopefully we get some more corroborating translations for the bits you're not sure!

[payasita]

Good job getting ADHD medication! I’m so proud of you :D

thanks so so much im very happy and so hopeful for the first time maybe ever but also it TOOK ME LIKE. A YEAR. A YEAR.

like yall for real?? for real. for real i have been diagnosed since i was like six. (funny story my teacher thought i was on the spectrum so my parents get me tested with the nodes and shit and according to mom, who loves this story, my neurologist did all that and talked to me and then just turned to my mom and went "she's not autistic. she just hates the other kids" but they DID find an adhd diagnosis in there so net win for all of us)

diagnosed since i was SIX. on stimulants until i turned 8, and you know why i got off em? my pediatrician retired. we could not find another who would take our low-income insurance. so i just had to rawdog The Rest Of My Fucking Life. diagnosed when i was six. legally neurodivergent for 20 slutty slutty angry years.

and it still took me like. a few months to get a psych appointment. a few weeks to reaffirm my diagnosis as an adult. a few more weeks for another appointment for meds. he doesnt Want to do meds first, because i must have been doing fine without them if its been two decades, right? i got a job and a car and everything. well gee fuckin shittickers Dr. Brain Guy, just WHAT was my alternative? would you prefer i be maladapted to the point of incapacitation; is that what it takes for someone to be considered? i cheated my way through school. every day after work i sit for an hour in my car because i dont have the executive function to stand up and walk the ten steps to my house. garbage just appears around me. i have three empty bags of hot chip and two cans of sprite on my desk as we speak, neither from today. at that point i hadnt had a debit card for six months because that would have required me to Drive To The Bank, a location that was new to me in this area, so i just did everything on credit. is this all normal? is this fine? am i GOOD, actually, Dr. WeirdBrain?

so we cordially agree that yes i should probably be medicated. i want to do a stimulant. he does not want to put me on a stimulant. "stimulants can mess with your heart," he says, "and you're young, you don't want heart problems." i say ok because i dont want to make him think im just looking for narcotics. even though i am. because they WORK. i agree to try some kind of antidepressant.

the antidepressant gives me tachycardia. i go to the emergency room after reading a heartbeat of, oh, 140 bpm, which is about like double what it normally is and juuuust below the You Are Having A Heart Attack threshold. i get to the ER and the doctor there is very obviously convinced i'm a local addict having some sort of episode. it is the most ironic experience i've had all year and i feel an abrupt and all consuming kinship with those birds in australia that will swoop you and peck at your face for seemingly no good reason.

so yeah, we narrow it down to the antidepressant. as it turns out, these particular meds are known to, semi-commonly, Mess With Your Heart. i have my next appointment with my psych and somehow refrain from pecking his eyes out. he puts me on a noreprinephrine inhibitor(iirc) that isnt actually FDA approved to treat ADHD specifically(i DEFINITELY rc) but it IS given to smokers to help them quit. i dont smoke. i may very well fucking start before this whole ordeal is at the point where someone listens to me

it obviously does a combined total of jack and shit, and the man waffles with this one because he has "had success" using it as treatment for other ADHD patients. he ups the dose. twice. three months on the smoker meds, which are also apparently notorious for destroying your appetite, but they didnt even do THAT. no change to the average amount of hot chip on my desk.

he wants to try quelbree after that. i finally tell him i'm tired of this shit and would like to have more than two hours of usable daylight to function before it all falls to uncontrollable youtube shorts binges and a daily experience i like to call The Weighted Nothings and i would very much like to PLEASE. TRY A STIMULANT.

he's been friendly enough with me over these past four or five or whatever months but at this he gets suddenly very very business-baseline. gives me the whole spiel about the north american shortage. gives me a spiel about how i absolutely cannot, under any circumstances, lose or sell this medication, because they will not refill it if i do. i am sitting here wondering if he he's telling the truth about having other ADHD patients at all like ever in his career, and also, am i nuts or should the "don't sell your prescription drugs" bit apply to EVERYTHING? i dont fuckin know man i just live here

he says he wants a urine test first. its scheduled for two weeks out. i take it.

"hey uh, your piss came back with cannabis in it" "well it'd be weirder if it didn't, we are in california and i am a kitchen manager" "you can't have weed if you want adderall" "fine i'll stop" "we'll schedule you another test in a month" "aight bet" it didnt go exactly like that but this is kind of what the vibe between us has devolved into by this point.

anyway i wait a month and get a good grade in piss. i get the meds prescribed. i go to fill out the prescription

all i really need to say to you are the words "prior authorization error" for most of you to get what happened next.

the psych isnt even aware. i wait another month for our next meeting, which was yesterday. i do not yell at him. he tells me to take it up with the pharmacy, and yell at them. i am going to yell at them.

so i go, and guess what, it actually went through a while ago! NO ONE TOLD ME OR DR. FEEL-BAD OVER HERE. but we can't fill it right now because its a controlled substance so come back in a few hours. hey it's ready where the hell are you? TAKE YOUR METH AND GET OUT

anyway i started it today, reorganized my pantry, and fixed the fire alarm in my hallway that's been chirping at me for a week. i no longer have to wear earplugs to bed.

and with my newfound executive function superpowers, i will be spraying my weed-free piss all over Reagan's grave.

[sagan-starstuff]

XF Meta: Scully's Medical Training Timeline

At the request of @randomfoggytiger, I wanted to do my damnedest to make Scully's education and training timeline make even a little sense. I'm a physician (specifically a specialist in adult infectious diseases), and it's fairly clear to me that CC and Co probably didn't actually talk to any doctors about how medical training works. Love my girl - I'm a Scully Effect kid, I don't think I'd be a doctor at all if it weren't for the inspiration of Dana Scully. But her timeline is...iffy at best.

Disclaimer: My medical school and post-med school training occurred from 2009-2018, Scully's occurred in the 1980's-90's. From what I can tell, the durations of many residencies and fellowships don't seem to have changed much, but I can't say that for certainty for all programs at all institutions. I am also from the US, so I cannot speak to medical training in other countries.

Our girl was born in 1964, and so unless she skipped a grade (which some schools would do if students were classified as "gifted" or otherwise exceptional, she would have graduated from high school at age 18 in 1982 and went straight to college. Let's assume she didn't skip a grade, for the sake of argument.

You have to have a Bachelor's degree to apply to medical school. These degrees typically take 4 years, though if someone arrives at college with credits from dual-enrollment high school classes or AP exam credits OR if they take summer classes some people can complete them in 3 years. I don't know what the availability of dual enrollment or AP classes was like in the early 80's (and like CC, I'm too lazy to do the research to find out), so we can assume that Scully graduated from college in 1986.

Medical school is 4 years long - no shortening this at that point in time, and even now in almost all cases. So that puts medical school graduation in 1990 IF she's following a traditional timeline and went straight from college to medical school.

Now, if someone is going to go into practice they have to do a residency in at least one of a variety of specialties (Internal Medicine, Pediatrics, Surgery, etc.) in order to be board certified and practice independently. There are very, very few job options in clinical medicine if you DON'T do a residency, so if you want to practice, you have to do it. Residencies can be anywhere from 3-5 years, depending on the specialty. You can also further subspecialize after a residency by doing one or more fellowships (typically 1-3 years depending on the fellowship) before sitting for your board certification exams and starting independent practice. For example - after medical school I did a 3-year residency in adult internal medicine, then a 2 year fellowship in adult infectious diseases to be eligible to sit for the boards and enter my specialty, so 5 years further training after medical school before I could get a job, get board certified, and practice.

Scully is a forensic pathologist. She would have had to do a 3 or 4 year pathology residency (both were options at the time) followed by a 1 year forensic pathology fellowship. You CANNOT perform autopsies right out of medical school, if you are going to be a forensic pathologist you HAVE to do this training. So, following a traditional timeline this puts her as having completed forensic pathology training in 1994 or 1995. Pilot starts March 7th, 1992, so this is loooooong after she's canonically already an FBI agent and teaching at the academy.

But our girl's a smart cookie, so let's take a little leeway with her timeline. Let's say she skipped a grade some time in K-12. This puts high school graduation in 1981. Let's say she ALSO graduates with a bunch of AP credit and does summer semesters and finishes her undergraduate degree in Physics in 3 years. This puts her as starting medical school in 1984, with graduation in 1988. She'd still need to do that pathology residency and forensic pathology fellowship - let's assume a 3 year residency, then 1 year fellowship, so she'd finish training in 1992.

Still doesn't fit.

Let's go totally off the rails here - we know Scully was recruited out of medical school to the FBI, so she didn't do a traditional residency at all - UNLESS the FBI has an internal forensic pathology residency. It would HAVE to be accelerated in some way - some programs combine residency and fellowship by giving less elective time and more focus to the fellowship content. It's not common but they exist. Let's say in theory the FBI has an accelerated forensic pathology residency that takes 3 years, in addition to the 20 weeks of the FBI academy training. This has her finishing residency AND FBI academy training some time in 1991.

This is the ONLY way she could have finished forensic pathology training AND the FBI academy with enough time to be a fully certified forensic pathologist and FBI agent with some time left to teach at the FBI academy before being assigned to the X-Files on March 7th, 1992.

I can suspend my disbelief enough to be on board with this. You'd have to be pretty damned special, which we know she is, to get recruited out of medical school by the FBI. Maybe they even developed the accelerated combined residency/fellowship just for her! She's Dana Katherine Motherf***ing Scully, people!

Now, IWTB is where things get REALLY unbelievable. (Disclaimer: I have not watched IWTB since seeing it in theaters in 2008. I'll get around to rewatching it someday soon. Probably with a bottle of wine. Not a glass. A bottle.)

Mulder and Scully go on the run in 2002. We don't know how long they were in the wind, but by 2008, she's been allowed to resume a career and is practicing at Our Lady of Sorrows. Clearly in pediatrics - but general pediatricians sure as hell don't do stem cell transplants, so she'd almost certainly have to be a pediatric oncologist. We aren't told what her specialty is specifically, but that's what she'd have to be to do a stem cell transplant.

(That scene in the OR isn't even what stem cell transplants LOOK LIKE but that's a rant for another day, back to my point.)

MEDICAL BOARDS DON'T JUST LET YOU CHANGE YOUR SPECIALTY FOR FUNSIES.

(Deep breaths. Serenity now. Ok, let's do this.)

Scully would have had to do an ENTIRELY NEW residency AND fellowship in order to practice as a pediatric oncologist. Pediatrics residency is 3 years long. Pediatric Hematology/Oncology fellowship is 3 years long. In order for this to be even remotely possible, she would have had to START residency in 2002 to finish fellowship by 2008 and start her job at Our Lady of Sorrows.

And she's a former FBI agent harboring a known felon, on the run from government officials and alien hybrids who want her and Mulder dead.

There is absolutely no way even the smallest, most hard-up pediatric residency program is going to accept her with that hanging over her head. I'm not going to get into all the details of how rigorous and stressful the post-medical school residency application and match process is, but even if she didn't apply until she KNEW it was safe to come out from underground, she'd still have to explain a multi-year gap in her resume/CV to the program directors. Multi-year gaps in career and training without a reasonable explanation like a medical issue, time off to care for an ailing family member, time off for research, time away in a different, legitimate career are NOT looked on kindly when applying for residency positions. She would have a HELL of a time getting into a totally different residency.

It could happen - if anyone could do it, she could. But there's absolutely no way there's enough time for her to complete that training by 2008.

"But sagan-starstuff, it's CC, it's X-Files, we know there was no show bible and no one but the fans gave a shit about continuity or things making sense, there's no logic just vibes"

I KNOW, OK. I KNOW. And I love this insane, beautiful masterpiece anyway. I love exploring the possibilities of how and when it all could have happened with my fellow insane Philes who work so hard to glean meaning and order from this perfect mess of a show.

But couldn't CC have talked to one (1) doctor about what medical training is like at some point between 1993 and 2018? Just one?

Anyway. Yeah. That's my meta. Scully's training timeline makes no goddamned sense. Compels me, though.

@randomfoggytiger, this is for you. Honorable mention to @precedex-files who I ranted about this with in messages a while back.

[calware]

post about me. i added pictures to keep it interesting

i've had a problem for most of my life that i'm currently visualizing as a gray dorito poking into me. it's frustrating, inconvenient, difficult to deal with, and overall makes everything suck a little. many people have told me that this problem is most likely adhd, such as my therapist in high school who said it was "textbook." unfortunately, she was just a therapist, not a psychiatrist, and therefore wasn't actually qualified to diagnose me with anything. this was in 2021 when there were no child psychiatrists in my area accepting new patients (thanks, covid), so instead my doctor gave me a few adhd meds at differing doses to see if any of them stuck (i had literally no reaction to Any of them) and the whole thing went nowhere

so, is the problem actually adhd? i'm an adult now and could pay several hundred dollars (of my parent's money) to get a proper test, but it would make no difference as my issues would not be solved by adhd medication (maybe. i'm worried i somehow messed it up) or any form of accommodations. i don't want to ask my parents to pay for something that likely won't have much impact (and my mom wouldn't be fully convinced anyway. both parents are pretty sure there's nothing wrong with me). i want to know, but the time and money don't justify it. so the best solution i have is to keep going, keep learning which lifestyle changes to make and how to "work smarter". i'll be okay. and i say that with sincerity

whoops, forgot my glasses here. this is another gray dorito-shaped problem, only this one is much smaller. i rarely notice it, and when i do, it's superficial. it's only gotten genuinely bad twice in my life. it's my paranoia, obsessiveness, and, on occasion, compulsions that follow those obsessions. now, i know what you're thinking, which is that it kind of sounds like Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. frankly, from my understanding, my issue is so negligible that it doesn't qualify as OCD. like i said, it barely affects me. it still bothers me that it's there, though. i do my best to deal with it, letting my thoughts pass as they come to me and not trying not to give into/breaking out of compulsions, but i just don't want it there at all

this is another thing i could see a therapist about, but does a problem this small really justify the time and expenses of seeing a professional? not in my case (not for me, at least. don't apply this to your own problems if you genuinely want to seek professional help)

i have a goal to have enough disposable income later in life to justify paying a scientist to pick through my brain for my own amusement. because, despite no substantial foreseeable improvements to my mental health after getting a psych evaluation, i still find the idea to be really exciting. i have a strong desire to understand how my mind works, how my brain ticks, why i am the person i am. that's how i know that if i ever played sburb, id have the heart aspect (that's right. you thought that this was just a personal post on my homestuck blog that had nothing to do with homestuck. do you really think i would do that? make off-topic posts solely about me on a homestuck blog? look, i even remembered to draw my glasses this time and i made them homestuck glasses. because i care about you guys) and i am vain and self-centered enough to desperately want someone with a phd to talk about me for an hour. and no, i don't need a therapist to tell me why that is, i already figured that one out allllll on my own

[honeyjars-sims]

3.35 Sticky Situation

It’s the second day of our camping trip and I’m realizing that even when she’s on vacation, Lucy is still in work mode. With the spotty cell service on the mountain, she’s not able to do any actual work so she’s channeling all of her energy into making sure things run smoothly on the trip.

She was up before the rest of us this morning cleaning up our mess from the night before and now that everyone’s awake, she’s been looking for things to do. “We should gather more firewood,” she says.

“We have all day to do that,” I tell her. “Just relax. This is a vacation, remember?”

“I know, but I can’t relax when there are things that need to be done. I always get like this when I’m…on vacation.” I have a feeling there’s more going on but before I can ask her about it, Paul jumps in.

“Well, if you can’t relax until things are done, then at least let someone else do it,” he insists. He turns to me. “John and I can gather up some firewood while you get in some relaxation.”

I start to protest the suggestion–I always hate it when I get roped into hard labor just because I’m a guy–but Lucy looks so relieved that I decide to let it go. “Yeah, we’ll take care of it,” I say instead, and Paul and I head off into the woods.

We barely make it a few feet before Paul starts droning on about how you want to make sure you get the right type of wood, and you have to make sure the pieces you pick aren’t too wet, and blah, blah, blah. “Yeah, yeah,” I cut in. “If I have to do this, then I’m gonna do it my way.”

“Oh? What’s your way? If you have any insights, I’m happy to hear them.”

“It’s pretty simple. Is this wood? If yes, then I pick it up.”

“Hmm, ok,” he says, sounding uncertain. “I suppose we’ll see how that goes tonight.” 

“I guess we will.”

“You’re kind of competitive aren’t you?” he asks.

I feel my face growing hot, remembering how I tried–and failed–to show him up on our last hiking trip. “Uh, not really,” I mutter.

“Oh, so, it’s just with me then?” His words would sound confrontational if not for the softness of his tone. He seems more curious than argumentative.

“Look, I’m sorry about all of that. I was just feeling a little insecure with all of the attention you were getting from the girls. I’m trying to be more mature about it, though.”

“Ahh, the girls,” he replies. “That’s what that was about. I don’t see what you’re so insecure about, though.”

“Well, I mean, you’re going to be a doctor, and you’re more athletic than I am.” Spelling out my insecurities isn’t exactly making me feel better about them. 

Paul shrugs. “I don’t even start med school until the fall,” he counters. “Besides, you had everyone laughing and that’s something I’ve never been good at. In fact, I’m famous in my family for telling the worst jokes.”

“Oh, really?” I ask, excited for an opportunity to pass on some advice about something I’m good at. “In my opinion, the main thing people get wrong about comedy is that they try too hard to be funny instead of just finding opportunities naturally.”

“You think so? Maybe that’s where I’m going wrong.”

“It could be. Go ahead, just say what comes to mind without thinking too much about whether or not it’s funny.”

“Uh, ok, what’s brown and sticky?” he asks.

“I don’t know, what is it?”

“A stick!”

This is not a good joke. Like objectively it’s not, but he has this huge grin on his face like he’s standing on stage at a sold out comedy show, and I can’t help but laugh with him. Not in a mean way; he’s so pleased with himself that it’s kind of endearing. “It was good?” he asks eagerly.

“Well…” I choose my words carefully. “Maybe the joke wasn’t the best, but I think you have the right attitude. I’m sure if you start looking out for the humor in different situations then it’ll start coming naturally to you.”

“Ok, well, thanks for the feedback.”

“No problem. We should probably start gathering up that wood. What did you say we should look for again?”

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

[dykedvonte]

(abt my last ask) thank you for the answer, your understanding of charas is trully stellar!

I wanted to ask, what's your take on recovery!au (unless you intend to cover it in your fic)? In the universe, where Jimmy happens, but the crew somehow survives. Everyone is traumatised, Anya is pregnant, Curly is disabled (could he even be able to afford disability aids? Pony express in no more, would they even be paid a sufficient compensation?). There is also a question of p*lice investigation (or whatever agency is responsible for space crimes), even more trauma... Man, it's bleak.

-💀

I like them sad but for emotional and physical recovery reason rather than all the actual legal stuff that would ensue.

I like when Swansea relapsing is explored and Daisuke losing a little bit of his light. I am clearly a big supporter of Anya and Curly remaining close friend after but I think exploring the unhealthy dynamics of the trauma bond they’d develop should be played with way more. I think it’s a bit annoying when people are on the nose about Anya telling Curly he should’ve done more, especially when he’s struggling through recovery.

I feel like people really want her to be a character to rub salt into wounds, just to give her something cathartic, but it’s just OOC for me. It’s not a kindness thing but I don’t think she wants that sort of guilt to stay with him like that? He did not do what Jimmy did, he could’ve done more to stop it but she would not intentionally try to direct what she can never take out towards Jimmy at Curly. At least when they all make it out. This is not to say she doesn’t think he shouldn’t have any remorse but she understands that no one else could have foreseen Jimmy crashing the ship or getting that bad.

I like when it gets psychoanalytic in fics with the crew. Talk about Curly finally opening up on details on how he and Jimmy were friends, have the others realize how bad Jimmy was to even Curly, not a lot of people realize that they don’t know how Jimmy was to him. Have Anya be angry and snippy, have her worry she’s becoming like Jimmy even though she could never be like him, it’s that fear though, that she is owed that cathartic release and may take it out on others in some selfish subconscious desire to reclaim control for herself. Have her actualize-herself, is med school the only option? What does she want now? Does Swansea divorce his wife, give up on the life he created because he was just following the path of a good man, one he didn’t believe? Or does he stay and use the time he has left to make it something he believes in. How is Daisuke? Is he more mature or does he lose a little light? What are his new aspirations if any? His relationship with his parents?

Ultimately, I think a recover au should really focus on just them actually getting to know each other and filling themselves. So much of their interactions were likely based on coworker dynamics first. With that out the window they are now people who can’t really move on from each other but need to move on in life.

[all-pacas]

not me losing my mind about timelines

Okay i think we've all joked about how Chase being 26, per House, in Cursed, makes no sense. But I'm watching it and even in the episode the timeline is all over the place.

First, a line in Damned if you Do:

CHASE: My mother's been dead ten years.

Now for Cursed:

HOUSE: [Chase avoiding his dad] can't just be about the divorce. It's been fifteen years, and mom's been dead for ten of them.

And a bit later:

CHASE: I was fifteen years old when you walked out. Now you’re walking back in?

Per House, Rowan divorced his wife when Chase would have been around eleven, not fifteen, but Chase makes it sound like the divorce was when he was fifteen. This would also make his "mum's been dead ten years" thing inconsistent with him being 26, unless she died the same year as the divorce.

S2 has a bit of a retcon, having Chase say in episode two that he's actually 30. And in this case and in the case of House's timeline, I am more inclined to trust Chase's word on this. He lived it, after all.

In The Mistake, Chase tells Kayla:

CHASE: Dad left, mum crawled inside a bottle. Made for a great year twelve of high school.

Which does make it sound like the divorce and death happened in the same year, when he was 17-18.

Chase's age getting quietly bumped up a few years, though, does solve the timeline problem: if he's 29 in S1, then the divorce happening when he was 15 and his mother dying "ten years prior" actually kind of works out. It would put him at 19, which is a little too old for other reasons (he has to get to seminary, drop out, and start med school), but if we assume it's not literally ten/fifteen years, it works. So does, in a way, the idea that Chase went straight from high school to seminary: his mother had just died and it was a Reaction.

And then S8 throws us a whole new timeline mess: the Younger Sister Retcon. To be fair, this doesn't really contradict anything, but it means that his sister is actually very young:

CHASE: My dad left me alone to take care of my alcoholic mum and raise my baby sister. I was just a teenager. I spent half my time changing diapers and the other half cleaning up my mum's vomit.

In order to make this work (divorce, sister being young enough to not be potty trained), Chase and his sister must be at least 12-13 years apart, for her to still be "in diapers" when he's 15.

So in conclusion (this is so rough):

1975, ish: Bobby Chase is born. 1988: Baby Sister Chase is born. 1990: The Divorce. Chase is 15, and taking care of his mother and sister. 1993: Mother dies. Chase is in his last year of high school. Sister is five. 1993-1994: Chase runs to England and tries seminary. Sister is presumably taken in by Rowan.

Here is where the timeline completely falls apart: Chase starts working for House in 2002. It is a fellowship program, he's not actually expected to be a Fully Trained Doctor at this point… but he still has eight years at best to do university, med school, and his residency.

If we assume Rowan pulled every single string and Chase went the full nepobaby route, skipping his undergraduate entirely, somehow, and going straight to med school in 1994…

1997: Chase finishes med school and starts his residency. 2001: Chase finishes his residency and starts a fellowship. 2003: Chase applies for House's fellowship program.

It almost! Almost! works!

Except then they went and made him a fucking surgeon.

The only way (besides truly illogical — and timeline bending, like, Chase-in-med-school-while-dealing-with-his-mother-and-sister bending) this works is if Chase actually is not a surgeon. Yet.

2001: Chase finishes his intensivist residency, and starts training to be a surgeon. 2003: Chase moves to New Jersey to work for House. 2004: Show starts. Fall 2005: Chase tells a patient he's 30. 2007: Chase is moved to the OR after getting fired from Diagnostics, where he's actually a surgical resident or maybe, somehow, impossibly in a fellowship. House doesn't care he's not fully qualified yet. Cuddy pulls strings so that his partial training in Australia carries over to New Jersey, I don't know how it'd work. Go with it. By this measure, he finishes his five year surgical residency in… 2009: Almost immediately after getting his qualifications, Chase moves back to diagnostics. 2012: Chase reveals his sister exists and has spent half her life in rehab. She is in her early twenties at best.

If you want to push the timeline back to make it work a little more smoothly, you could probably manage an extra year or so. House being completely wrong about Chase's age seems fine, tbh: the show itself retconned this, and he makes a lot of jokes about Chase being prepubescent, not being old enough to shave, etc. — I can handwave his "he's 26" as House shorthand for "he's a child." Likewise, I'm okay with Chase being 31 but rounding his age down for a patient. He's absolutely vain enough.

Don't even get me started on the whole "he's a cardiologist" thing. He's not. It never comes up in the show. This is barely holding together as it is. Don't do this to me.

[irisintheafterglow]

Inspired by the photo loving Suguru ✨️🤍

Can I request reader getting mildly injured after a mission, maybe a head bump or a knee scrape, and Suguru suggests getting ice cream with their friends to cheer her up?

hand under my sweatshirt, baby kiss it better

wc: 0.7k

cw/tags: swearing, mild hurt/comfort, angst if you really squint, mostly just fluff and suguru taking care of you

note: HII SWIRRLEY you always have the most fun suguru asks and i love writing them :D nothing like some good ol' character A sitting on a sink while character B cleans up their wound. i hope you like this one !!!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“I’m going to pick Satoru’s eyelashes off one by one for making me cover him, I swear on all things–”

"Shit, the hell happened to you?" He leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, watching you clean up the scrape on your elbow as your legs dangle off the edge of the sink. Your hand unconsciously jerks away when the saturated cotton pad meets the tender flesh and you curse for the umpteenth time under your breath. It was a little ironic, a semi-grade one sorcerer reduced to a swearing, sputtering mess. You flinch again as a stray drop of isopropyl alcohol drips onto the cut and his eyebrows furrow. “You need some help there, Doc?”

“I don’t need your condescension right now, Su,” you mutter, hands shaky and vision blurry from the aching pain on your arm. “Just say ‘I told you so’ and leave me be.”

“There’s a difference between condescension and genuine concern, dear,” he says patiently, crossing the tile in two long strides and plucking the cotton pad from your fingers. “Right now, I’m trying to convey the latter. If anything, I’m gonna kick Satoru’s ass for making you go without me in the first place.” He tosses it into the trash bin before grabbing a washcloth and wetting the corner with warm water. You eye him warily, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he expectantly holds out a hand for you to rest your elbow on. “Well?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to take care of you? Because you got hurt and I want you to feel better?” He states what should be obvious facts to you with an air of exasperation and you frown, turning your face to the side in burning shame. You weren’t used to this, someone caring about your wellbeing after a mission. Sure, Shoko and Satoru liked to pester you about what to eat for dinner as soon as your shoes slipped off, but Suguru was the only one who actually checked to make sure you were okay. “You don’t have to be embarrassed that I see you like this. Heaven knows you’ve seen me at worse,” he quips and your mouth turns up into the slightest smirk. He was right; you’d definitely patched him up more times than you can count on both hands and probably both feet, too. After a few more moments of hesitation, you sit your arm in his palm. 

“Thank you, Su, for–ow, fucking fuck,” you hiss when the cloth meets the scrape and he murmurs an apology under his breath. “So, was the alcohol overkill?”

“A little bit, yeah,” he smiles and it makes your stomach flutter. “It’s okay, though. At least we know you’re not going to get an infection.”

“To be fair, Shoko told me to clean it up with alcohol first.”

“Shoko also told you she plans to cheat on her med school exams,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, much to his entertainment. “I’m just glad I found you before you gripped the counter so hard, it broke.”

“Okay, now who’s being overkill?”

“Doesn’t matter if I am, because I just distracted you long enough to clean up your wound.” He shrugs proudly and you gape at him for a few seconds, completely forgetting what he was doing there in the first place. Right, he was cleaning up your scrape, but why did you get so distracted with him in such close proximity? “How are you feeling now?”

“Much better,” you admit and he nods in understanding, fingers lightly brushing your skin around where you collided with the rocky concrete. 

“That’s good. Change your clothes and meet me in the parking lot in ten minutes.” He dusts his hands off like he’d performed some sort of life-altering surgery, tossing the dirty towel over his shoulder and heading for the door. 

“Huh?” You think you’re still slightly delirious and imagining his words. 

“Let’s go get ice cream with Shoko and Satoru, my treat,” he calls over his shoulder, shooting you a grin that makes your legs turn to jelly. “You definitely deserve it.” Hopping down from the sink, you jokingly shout down the hallway after him and he waves his hand dismissively.

“Are you in love with me, Geto Suguru?”  

“Something like that!” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[katz-chow]

Coming from puff puffs blog 🤧🤥 hope you don't mind 😝🙈🙉 ur also totally gaining a new follower..

WHAT ARE YOUR HEADCANONS ON SOAP? 🥰🥰🥰 unless you've already done this before then I am so sorry 😓

relationship with soap headcanons

warnings: sfw, fluff, some angst, relationship arguments, family trauma mentioned, religious trauma, homophobia, bad dad

a/n: my fav cod man is soap so this took my top priority!!! i think about this man a lot, 09 and reboot version. reboot is my fav though, realistically, he's who i would actually get with. here’s all the things i’ve thought about him, there’s probably more tbh… OK OK HERE :))

childhood hcs

johnny soap mactavish comes from a large family of 5 siblings, he's the second oldest. it's elsie, him, blair, callum, and olivia.

growing up in a family of mainly girls got him on that respect women juice. he would always have to make sure his younger siblings are ok and aren't you know, being bullied. his parents were adamant on 2 year age gaps between them all.

his cousin, jack, was an sas operator and that was what made him want to join. they had to call security forces to arrest him out at some point because he kept sneaking in to watch them do stuff lol

elsie left for uni with her bf to live in soho when johnny was 16, the same year he would talk to recruiters around his hometown, driving hours and then getting rejected the same day due to his age

9th grade (year 10) chemistry got him obsessed with stem and its *explosive* results. he aced chemistry and then took advanced chemistry and physics just because he loved it so much

after this, as soon as he turned 18, he went to sign his papers THEN graduated school (he's just like me fr). his mom was so worried for him, especially when her sister told her about the danger that jack would get himself into. in the end, he promised he'll always call her and his siblings

his dad's an ass, hes an alcoholic, a cheater, a *bitch*... he would always take the kids to church on sundays and twisted the religion into a reason for his behavior. claiming that johnny's mom being at home was just "their culture"

she makes a killer shepherd's pie though

always had had some sort of love-hate relationship with the catholic faith. on one hand, it was nice to know there's always at least someone watching out for him, but after hearing the constant belittlement from his father, claiming he wasn't "manly enough" for not willing to give his life up in the service, he started to resent the “all merciful”.

he ended up blaming god for all his faults, letting him take accountability. this especially happened when he got diagnosed with adhd when he was 17, his dad didn’t believe in mental health. his mom was only a bit better about it, they both refused meds for him.

he's bisexual, leans towards women though. found this out after a truth or dare game in junior year (year 12) and some beers in a closet

at one point, callum acccidently let it slip at dinner when johnny had first moved out that he had met a cute guy and their dad screamed and yelled at the whole family, especially their mom, about "raising a fucking whore of a son, dragging the family down to shite"

blair called and told johnny a few days later and johnny rushed his work as quickly as possible and begged his chain of command for a few days off to go back home to his family

his family gets loud…like really loud. there’s 7 people what do you expect?

it gets especially bad when it’s sunday morning and you gotta get 7 people awake and looking their church best for an hour and a half 😔

johnny is the quickest everything there is, which has its downsides too. he could run and swim the fastest in the family, but he was also the quickest eater…meaning he’s on dish washing duty. he’s quick at that too so by the time everyone’s finished, he’s washed all the other dishes that took to make dinner

broke his arm chasing a cat through someone’s yard (he was 14)

had a goat scream and kicked him because he wanted to give it a hug

he got a part time job at a local bakery in 10th grade (year 11). the pay wasn’t much but neither was the work really. olivia, who was 9 at the time, made him promise that he’ll get her a doll to have tea with. her tea set had 4 cups but only one of her, so she must get another one to join her! he kept his promise; he ended up getting three dolls for her

he can make amazing soda bread and brioche loafs now too, still keeps a starter from the owner of the bakery to this day

he had a mountain bicycle that he would take everywhere. had room behind his seat for packages and his backpack, which he would tie down. that thing had such a loud bell too, would ring constantly to “let people know hes coming and get ready”

was terrified of selkies for some reason, always had the window closed and made callum sleep by it while he slept by the door

wasn’t much of a troublemaker, but would get into trouble with his adventurous heart.

got lost in the woods once and after a while of fake courage, he sat down and cried until elsie found him. he was 20 yards (13 meters) away from the clearing 😭😭

laugh at that guys, mf was 15

personality & relationship hcs

johnny is such a fun lover. he’s handsome yeah, but what makes ppl flaunt over him is his humor. he’s what jessica rabbit said “he makes me laugh”

such a charismatic and charming person, gets it from his dad. he could talk about just about anything, also the type to strike up a conversation with a stranger at the grocery store. then end up with their number and a date or helping them dog sit

this isn’t always a good thing though, one time before he was medicated, he would talk on and on, his story becoming incoherent due to the amount of self-interruptions he made, that a group of guys got so annoyed at that pub, they punched him.

he was young, 19, and couldn’t fight, so he didn’t win and came back to the barracks with a nasty black eye

he likes to be the big spoon, has to hold something in order to sleep

feel like he’s the type to wrap his arms around a pillow and lay on his stomach to sleep

speaking of sleeping, he HATES sleeping with socks on. he tried it one day and he just shivered at the feel of it, woke up and his socks were missing (he found them under the bed)

i also feel like he sleeps like a log, unmoving once he finds his comfort, i also think it's because he had to sleep in the same bed as his siblings at one point and he didn't want to wake them by moving, so he got accustomed to being a still sleeper

one time he accidentally got into a fight at a bar when a guy kept being misogynistic and was arrested and kept in jail for the whole night until one of his civilian friends bailed him out

johnny's the type to race you in the rain to the car. again, he's quick so he's always ahead of you but then he slips from the rain and ends up all wet and muddy and in the car.

his favorite thing to do is hear you laugh. he'll do anything to hear you laugh.

whenever you're sad, he'll purposely stub his toe or trip down the stairs or make you kiss his "owie" (a papercut) to get you to cheer up. like yeah it hurts like a fucking bitch but seeing you sad hurts more than a silly tumble

number one date event is city exploring and hopping. like cafe hopping, pub hopping, museum hopping, restaurant hopping, anything that makes you get up and get going with time to sit and chill at the same time.

feels like he can eat a lot, he's the type to eat your food if you end up not liking it or being too full

when he gets home from missions and the initial excitement of seeing you dies down, he also dies down and nap for hours until it's the middle of the night and he gets up to eat something.

he loves naps. feels like he needs a nap time every day if it was possible

he's a very kind lover, he's easy going so its not hard that sometimes people take advantage of this and push his buttons until he can't take it anymore

causes a huge blowup because he can have a nasty temper whenever he bottles stuff up and pushes things aside

not a physical manifestation of anger, but definitely a verbal anger, will say things he doesn't really mean just to say it and realize right after the words leave his lips that he fucked up

but he'll stake out in front of the guest bedroom in which you've locked yourself in until you come out and he gets the chance to forgive you

the type to stand in the rain and hold a sign saying sorry right outside your window, a very cheesy romcom style (gaz made him watch them)

he loves you more than anything and loves you even more than you can keep up with him and laugh at his jokes, no matter how awful they are

he wants 4 kids by the way

[starsandgutters]

ok, look, give me a fake dating with kevaaron and my life will be YOURS. (Please)

okay, LISTEN- 😭

It’s actually a travesty I haven’t written this already considering it’s like my fave trope ever. Like I want to read the fake dating KevAaron fic I would write too fr LMAO

I actually !! Have !! A loose !! Concept !! For one !! But I haven’t written anything yet so I cannot offer you an excerpt for WIP Wed 😔 I can give the overview tho

Set when Aaron’s in med school/maybe his residency, and Kevin is playing pro.

Also welcome to the SALU (Shannen’s Aaron’s Literary Universe) where a Frequent Fixture is now his hugely queer biology study/friend group that Katelyn dragged him into. Like, as much as I am a big believer in Aaron & Seth & Matt being bros if given the chance, the unfortunate reality of the situation is Seth’s being deceased before they made amends makes that quite difficult in canon settings. And Aaron is just too much of a skeptic to be cracking the ouija out. Now with Matt, I think they did get on really well when they were roomies, but their lives head in separate directions after college. So. I want Aaron to have friends. That are not connected to his family. And I use OCs very sparingly as I know the reason people come to fanfic is for familiarity and characters they already know/love, but Bio Bunch™️ were well received and consequently I will be recycling them forever thanks (Aaron dated nurse Dylan in my sapphic WIP, Miles’ family adopted Jean and Elodie in my KevNeil AU so now he’s Jean’s lil brother, like literally they’re my standby bonus characters now)

All this to say. Aaron very much appreciates having friends. He was not very good at making them when he was little and going through the worst of Tilda’s abuse, and his teens were lost to a haze of drugs and pain where he had people he would speak to at school/on the team, but no one he was really friends with. Then he gets a brother! But oh no. Andrew doesn’t want him to have friends either and also Aaron kind of feels like he hates him so he’s still alone ☹️ - so to finally be at a point in his life where he has a close knit group of friends, people who actually like him and want to spend time with him for some reason!, it means a lot to him. He would not want to risk damaging those friendships. Especially because he’s not sure how to make new ones, he kind of just absorbed these ones via osmosis through Katelyn.

Which is why he panics when Dylan asks him out.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” he had asked, and Aaron, thinking nothing of it, had said: “No.” Because he doesn’t. He hasn’t dated anyone since Katelyn. Like, he’s been on his med school GRIND, y’know? Who has the time. And who can compare to her anyway?

“Would you maybe like to go out with me sometime?” Dylan then said, and listen, it’s not like Aaron is proud of what he did, but he panicked. He saw his friendless future flash in front of his eyes because he hurt Dylan’s feelings and it’s all awkward between them now and Aaron ends up iced out because he wrecked the vibe, and he panicked!!!

“Oh. Uh. I have a boyfriend though.”

And why the fuck did he even say that what the fuck what the fuck?!

But y’know it worked because Dylan got a sad little smile but nodded and said “lucky guy” and Aaron was like PHEW! Y’know, bullet DODGED! Except somehow this gets around their group, because wow one thing about having friends is apparently you’re not allowed secrets 🙄 (not that his relationship would usually be a secret but considering it is NONEXISTENT he would have appreciated people NOT KNOWING)

Of course Katelyn is on him like a rash because when has she ever let him get away with anything ever there is no peace in this world for him as long as they share space (he loves her more than anything). Immediately quizzing him on WHO he could be dating, because she knows he doesn’t really talk to anyone outside their friend group (because she knows everything about him shit how is he going to lie to her), and she is DYING to know who he has been hiding! (Like shit Kate me too guess we’re gonna find out together)

Consequently the panic continues as he speed skims through his mental catalogue of all the people he has ever actually communicated with who are not A) his family or B) already in committed relationships. And, listen, ok, here’s the thing. There are just not an awful lot of people in Aaron’s life who fit the cross reference of those categories. Really the only person he can think of is Kevin, and then he’s blurting out his name before the consequences of that action occur to him (🦋🦋🦋) because Katelyn KNOWS Kevin so there really should have been a C) someone Katelyn doesn’t know (though on reflection Aaron’s search results would have thrown up entirely blank with this addition)

“Aw, you always did have a crush on him.”

“What are you talking about?” No, because what is she talking about??? “No I didn’t.”

“You’re dating him now, why are you getting so defensive?”

He’s not getting defensive. He just thinks it’s an absolutely insane implication to suggest he has or ever will have feelings for Kevin Day. Except he can’t say that. Since that’s his fictional boyfriend now. Fictional on the boyfriend part. Kevin Day is unfortunately very real. A fact that has plagued Aaron’s existence ever since Wymack first brought that broken stray back to PSU.

Enter Kevin, truly baffled by this entire situation.

“Why didn’t you just tell him you’re not interested in guys?”

“Well, Katelyn knows I’m bi, so I couldn’t say that. Maybe he asked her first. Or she might mention it if it comes up.”

“Wait, you’re bi? Since when?”

“Since birth probably, can we focus on the actual issue at hand here.”

But like. This is Aaron. Aaron has never particularly been one to mince words. Kevin doesn’t know why he doesn’t just tell Dylan he’s not into him. Kevin’s been on the receiving end of Aaron’s attitude and bad manners more than often enough. 🤨 But after the truly painful and pitiful display of Extremely Emotionally Constipated Asshole Aaron Minyard trying to explain his newfound value for the Powers of Friendship, Kevin eventually agrees to be his fake date to a party with his friends. Like, whatever. It’s a small event with some med students, it’s not like they even have to be overly affectionate, or that this will get out anywhere. Then they can use Kevin’s busy work schedule as a reason he’s never around, and after a few months Aaron will just pretend they broke up. Easy.

Except photos get leaked to the media, outing Kevin. Instead of the career suicide he expects, he actually gets positive feedback. His PR rep encourages him to bring Aaron to a charity gala for a children’s mental health charity, thinking it could be positive rep for the kids to see a happy older queer couple as queer kids have higher rates of mental health issues. The team are doing some outreach with the actual kids before the gala - going down to play some games with them - Kevin doesn’t expect Aaron to come to this. He can just show up to the event, y’know, it’s basically just a free night out. They’ll just postpone their fake break up another couple of months.

But Aaron is like, uhm, excuse me. Did you even think to ask if I would want to come along to meet the kids? You know I’m going into peds, right? I’d much rather come hang out with the kids than have to rub shoulders with your snotty famous rich friends all night. Of course I’m coming to both of them.

So Aaron does come. Where Kevin is awkward and fumbling and never quite sure of the right thing to say (he never interacted with kids even when he was one???), Aaron is a natural. He’s excellent with them. They all love him within the first ten minutes, and it’s weird, because who is this? This is not an Aaron that Kevin knows. This is not a side of him he’s ever seen at school or around their family. It’s making Kevin feel all weird inside. In SOFT and GUSHY ways.

So they go to the Gala and both get a little tipsy, and whoops. Of course everyone thinks they’re a couple, so they’ve been given a room with one bed (because one bed trope supremacy ALSO 🙏🏻). Kevin thinks Aaron’s gonna be mad or upset, but Aaron’s giggly as he undresses. Which. Oh. Okay. Usually Aaron had weird hang ups about changing outside of the locker rooms. But now he’s. Shirtless. And his body has changed since college. Obviously. He doesn’t spend five days a week training anymore. He’s still kept some of his muscle in his arms and shoulders, and his legs have always been naturally strong, but he’s gotten a bit softer. Which Kevin realises he actually quite likes. And. Oh. Shit. Okay. He might actually be a bit attracted to Aaron. But. That’s fine. That won’t be a problem, right?

Right? 😐

ANYWAY THAT’S ALL I GOT FOR NOW. I simply can’t start another WIP until I finish some of the ones I got running. Like it would be fine if I could write things of a MODERATE length but I’ve never been chill about anything ever in my life and it’s too late to start now so I write excessively and I just. Cannot risk not finishing things by starting something else.

BUT SOME DAY. MAYBE. PROBABLY.

[gabrielora]

South Park disorder Headcannon:

EPISODE 1: ERIC CARTMAN.

I belive that Cartman has HPD (Histrionic personality disorder), BED (binge eating disorder,) early childhood schizophrenia, and Autism. (Check @rottrottencorpse headcanon post about it he words it better then i ever could.)

(Also disclaimer I am a 14 year old who has never talked a psychology or neurology class and I’m just autistic and like to study the DSM and South Park for fun)

Cartman

1. childhood schizophrenia:

Cartman is shown to have difficulty with daily functioning, such as brushing his teeth and doing basic chores. Although this could be a result of him being spoiled by his mother.

he has a large lack of impulse control, his impulses are often caused by delusion and his inability to control his emotions. He has very extreme emotions that do not fit the situations he is in.

Cartman is shown to have speech delays and is exhibits behaviors of echolalia (in “Cat Orgy” he repeats “they mostly come at night, mostly” over and over again. He does the same thing with “beefcake!”) Cartman (especially in early seasons) tends to have very disorganized speech patterns. He is unable to pronounce certain words and sounds even into adulthood (Post Covid.)

He is shown to have difficulty paying attention and has an extremely low performance in school despite having high academic intelligence when he believes the situation calls for it.

Cartman is often shown to have delusions, an example is in “the China problem.” He will go through extreme measures to validate his delusions. (Such as committing terrorism or even genocide.)

Cartman is shown to have hallucinations; specifically Cupid me. In Cupid Ye, Cupid me begins to show behaviors that are extremely antisemetic and cruel to the point even Cartman becomes concerned. He fully believes Cupid me is real. He calms “Cupid me” down by forcing him to take his meds. Which may imply Cartman is taking medication.

2. HPD,

Cartman is shown to be extremely insecure about himself (seen in “insecurity” and “Cartmans mom is a dirty slut.” Along with ” the end of obesity” and “fish sticks.”) and he gets his sense of self worth from others. He craves constant validation, often attempting to make himself seem grandiose to make others amazed.

He acts very dramatically for the attention of others. He doesn’t understand that his behavior is inappropriate. He becomes upset when he is not the center of attention.

He puts on an extremely charming performance (often when having a delusion) to make himself look great. He is extremely dramatic, to the point he is theatrical. When he wants to draw attention he sometimes will wear outfits that bring attention to him. In fact, he has the most outfits out of any character in the series. He has over 100 as of 2016.

He speaks very dramatically and rarely has reasoning or evidence for his thoughts despite the fact he is capable of researching them. Cartmans emotions tend to be exaggerated, quick and shallow, as shown in people with HPD.

He can be extremely gullible. Especially in early seasons. This can be attributed to the fact he is a child though and cannot be concluded as a specific symptom.

He often believes he is closer with people than he actually is (specifically Jimmy Valmer as shown in Tsst.) and he has a very hard time maintaining relationships with people who aren’t his closest friends.

He has a constant need for instant gratification. This can make him extremely efficient in his plans, but due to his poor impulse control can cause disastrous situations. Cartman becomes bored very easily, and he again, is constantly looking for the approval of others.

Some risk factors for HPD include:

1. Genetics, (other symptoms which Cartman did not yet have is sexually promiscuous behavior.) his mom exhibits many of these symptoms. Especially attention seeking behavior via sexuality, and believing she is closer to people than she actually is (as shown in Tsst with ceaser Milan)

2. Childhood trauma, Cartman is shown to have suffered childhood sexual assault throughout the series. In fact, it has happened or has been referenced to around 21 times throughout the series. It is stated in an episode that Liane made him wear a costume and dance for her while she was intoxicated and having sex with an unknown man. She also drugs him with codeine when he’s paranoid or anxious (as shown in let go let gov.)

3. Parenting styles such as ones that lack boundaries or are overindulgent. Parents who display extreme erratic sexual characteristics and other inappropriate behaviors put their children at risk for developing HPD. (That’s literally just Liane)

3. C-ptsd,

I have less reasons to belive this and it is more of a loose headcanon.

Cartman has experienced long-term/repeated sexual abuse.

He is hyper vigilant about sexual abuse as shown in The Coon, when he sees a man kissing a woman and immediately assumes she is being assaulted. He has negative correlations to anything sex related. He views sex as in inherent act of violence and humiliation (as shown in the fractured but whole when he tells the new kid their dad fucked their mom.)

He reacts excessively and becomes very defensive when any negative feedback is pointed towards him.

It is shown in early seasons that Cartman was bullied by his peers. In the episode Damien, pip says “I think they made fun of the fat boy a lot too, but now i think they like him because he picks on me!” Which shows that a lot of his antagonistic behavior was brought up because he would be ostracized otherwise. Stan, Kyle, and Kenny were the bullies first. Cartman was mirroring their behavior.

The boiling point for this was in Scott Tenorman must die, when Scott humiliated him and he snapped.

He was not the first kid to snap in South Park, in fact the even headed Wendy Testaburger was.

A lot of his negative behaviors are him covering trauma or trying to adapt to his surroundings. (I am referring to morally incorrect or extremely self destructive behavior not just odd behavior when i say negative behaviors.)

4. Autism spectrum disorder

I belive that Cartman shows signs of autism, although many of these symptoms can be attributed to Schizophrenia.

He is very sensitive to small changes, in let them eat goo he got so caught up about the slight changes in the food he had to be hospitalized. (By the way a lot of this evidence was from a post by rotten corpse!!! I am not trying to take credit for the autism!!)

He has hyperactive and inattentive behavior (which can be symptoms of schizophrenia but i think should be listed anyway.)

he is shown to have Alexithymia. He has a hard time expressing his love for people (he tells his friends he hates them when this is not true.) He cannot recognize when he is feeling empathy (which he does feel empathy, he can feel empathy towards inanimate objects and cats and people he is not close to which is why i do not believe he has ASPD.) With the theory he has alexithymia, you could also come up with the idea that he is unable to recognize his strong emotions and therefore unable to think about them logically.

He obsesses over his goals frequently, the largest one being wanting to make a million dollars. Some of his behavior relating to this though can be attributed to his delusions and grandiose. He seems to be very talented at photography and has a large interest in it.

He is shown to not understand personal space a lot, specifically in tegridy farms where he repeatedly holds Kyle’s hand despite his protests. he also seems to become aggravated anytime someone else is in his space.

He tends to butt into and dominate conversations, this can be related back to HPD but this is prominent even when he is not trying to get attention.

He, again, has echolalia which is an autism symptom but also a symptom of schizophrenia.

He mirrors other people’s behaviors. In Damien it’s stated that he mirrored Stan Kyle and Kenny’s behavior so he wouldn’t be bullied by them. He also has developed some of Butters behaviors throughout their friendship. This is also a symptom of HSD (being highly influenced by others.)

Cartman has a hard time understanding social cues. This is more prominent in early seasons compared to later seasons. He is shown to not fully understand when someone is being sarcastic towards him, and often takes things literally. (Such as the Sea Men.)

He HATES unexpected change (he tries to murder Heidi over making him late to the pumkin patch he is not normal)

this is a large maybe as many of these symptoms can be related to his other disorders. I still love this headcannon though because i think it makes it much more interesting analyzing his trauma with that in mind.

5. BED (Binge Eating disorder.)

Im pretty sure this is canon so I may not explain as much as the others.

Cartman compulsively eats very large amounts of food in short periods of time, even eating when he’s not full anymore or not hungry.

He has a hard time identifying when he is full which can be linked back to autism and not being able to process your senses.

He hides in his bathroom to binge as seen in the end of obesity, and he is shown to feel a lot of shame towards binging. (His desperation to get ozempic.)

A good thing to take note of is that Cartmans mom doesn’t just over feed him. She uses food to bribe Cartman into being friends with her. Almost all the “love” she shows towards Cartman is bribery done to alleviate her crippling loneliness. In episode one he tells her he doesn’t want to eat too much because he’s being bullied for being fat. She tells him he’s not fat he’s big boned. He still doesn’t want to eat so she kept bribing him with food until he caved in. In Tsst she bribes him with KFC to skip an project to see a show with her, neglecting his academic needs. He likely sees food as a form of validation. This boosts his BED even further, and the need for validation is boosted by his HPD.

I think his HPD and schizophrenic symptoms make many people assume Cartman has ASPD. I do not belive he has ASPD as he can feel empathy to a very broad spectrum of things (inanimate objects, animals, and people he is not close to.) Conduct disorder may apply but it’s shown he can grow out of it when taken away from his environment or his environment is changed meaning he was not born with ASPD. He does have a lot of symptoms of ASPD but on the dsm they state “The occurrence of antisocial behavior is not exclusively during the course of schizophrenia or bipolar disorder.” Which in my analysis Cartman has untreated schizophrenia which would mean outside of the age requirement, he would not fit the ASPD criteria.

ANYWAY thats all folks!!

[writercole]

On Second Thought...

Summary: Dr. Jake Seresin meets his match. Pairing: Jake Seresin x Vikander!Reader (Omaha's sister) Words: 1901 Warnings: Dr. Jake Seresin, flirting, innuendo, Dr. Javy Machado, Sass, probably some swearing, medical discussions regarding neurological symptoms. Credits: I don't know anymore I know @ryebecca helped with the title and gave her squeak of approval on the graphic. A/N: I literally found this on my thumb drive and...well...it's been a long week. Have a treat.

Dr. Jacob Seresin, doctor of neurology, Jake to his friends, sighed heavily when he checked his cell phone. He trudged through the parking garage, exhaustion weighing him down after a twelve hour shift where there had been an influx of patients but an absence of nurses or doctors to be found.

The absence of any text messages or missed calls from his ex girlfriend drove him further into a bad mood. Jake had returned home from a long shift, much like the one he had just ended, to find that she had packed all of her things and gone, leaving only a lingering trace of perfume that dissipated after a week.

That had been nearly four months ago.

He had taken time out of almost every day for the first two months to send her a message, whether good morning, good night, or to hope her day was going well, but there had been radio silence, nothing coming back through the phone, though the messages marked as read.

Truthfully, her abrupt departure from his life had barely rattled him. He could still function; his job never took a hit and his patients never noticed a thing. Even the ones who had been with him since he opened his practice. And the nurses had more interesting things to talk about than his vanilla, ethical love life. 

Jake still felt the sting of loneliness, though, a sting that spread through his veins as he cared for patients with loved ones beside their bed. He may not have loved Gretchen, but he missed the companionship and the emotional connection that came with having someone waiting at home. It was something that surprised him, the need for feelings involved in his relationships.

Jake wasn’t surprised when he saw a message from an old med school buddy, Javy Machado. They’d taken residencies at separate hospitals in the same city and still hung out when their off days coincided. The reason for the message, however, was strange.

> Yo, Seresin. I got a tough case here. Need an outsider to come check this out. Tomorrow. I start my rounds at 6 AM.

Jake replied back that he’d be there and asked for any details that he could get before they met up at the hospital. The more he knew going in, the better. It was easier to rule things out that way. 

At 0530 hours, Jake walked into UMCSD and headed for the cardiac wing. He noticed a distinctly different atmosphere as he walked through the halls. There was a peacefulness under the beeping and bustling that SDGMC didn’t have. 

He rounded the corner and scanned the area, not seeing the tall man that had called him here. A short woman was standing at the counter scribbling on a chart and he walked over in the hope that he could get directions to Machado’s office.

“Excuse me, nurse,” he said. She didn’t respond but her posture stiffened slightly. “Nurse?” he called again, getting no response again. He reached up and tapped her on the shoulder as he tried one more time. “Nurse, I’m looking for Dr. Machado.”

She whipped around, her hair slapping him in the arm, and put her hands on her hips. “You aren’t from here, are you?” 

“Uh, no. I just need -”

“Well, how about you actually find the nurse you were looking for instead of asking a doctor who is charting a consult where to find your…lover,” she spat as she eyed Jake up and down. 

“That’s not…no,” Jake shook his head. “I was called in to consult on a patient. I’m Dr. Seresin from General.”

Her eyes narrowed as she stood there, crossing her arms over her chest. “And Dr. Machado called you in? Are you sure?”

“Jake! You’re early!” they heard called across the wing. Neither of them broke eye contact as Javy walked up to them, clapping Jake on the shoulder. “Oh, good, you’ve met Dr. Vikander.”

“Coyote, what the hell did you call him for?” Dr. Vikander hissed as she diverted her fury to her colleague.

“Well, I thought an extra set of eyes on the case would be helpful,” Javy shrugged. “This is Jake Seresin, an old buddy from med school and the best neurologist on the SDGMC campus.”

“I’m the best neurologist in town, Machado,” Jake corrected.

“No, you’re definitely not,” she scoffed.

“Oh, I’m good, sweetheart. I’m very good,” he smirked, “I’ll be happy to show you.”

“I have to see this. Coyote, lead the way to the patient,” she bit back. 

“Not exactly how I was thinking of demonstrating but if you want an audience, sweetheart, I’m fine with that. I know Javy likes to watch." The look on Dr. Vikander’s face delighted Jake. Getting under people’s skin - especially women - happened to be a favorite pastime of his.

"Dude, that was one time and no patients were involved," Javy corrected. "Can we please go see my patient now?"

Dr. Machado led them into the room and introduced them to the patient, giving a brief overview of his symptoms. "Presented with sudden inability to stand and fainting. He's a patient of mine, single bypass. Cardiac workup is clean."

"Did you feel dizzy or lightheaded before you fainted?" She looked at the digital chart on the tablet, pulling up the bloodwork and cardiac workup that Dr. Machado spoke of.

“Not really,” the patient responded.

“Any headaches?”

“I’ve been having headaches almost daily for years. It wasn’t any different than normal.” The patient shrugged and yawned before continuing. “No allergies either.”

“What about fever, nausea, vomiting?” Jake questioned, looking over her shoulder and ignoring the glare she gave him.

“Nope, nothing like that.”

“You didn’t have the flu recently?”

“Yeah, like two weeks ago but it was a normal flu. My doctor tested me and everything.”

“How about vision loss, double vision, being extra tired, numbness?” Dr. Vikander continued.

“Some numbness. Definitely extra tired. Occasional double vision.” The patient’s voice had quieted, almost as if he were recognizing the seriousness of the condition, the extent of the things he’d been experiencing becoming symptoms.

“Any pain or swelling?”

“Yes, but I just thought it was from the weather changing. You know how it gets when you’ve worked jobs that are hard on your joints and stuff.”

“We’re going to need a few more tests,” Dr. Vikander told him gently. “I’m hoping that we can get this figured out quickly and get you home to your family.”

“Thank you, doctors.”

The three physicians stepped out of the room, the two neurologists following behind Dr. Machado all the way to his office in silence.

“Well, what are we looking at?” Javy asked as he leaned on the edge of his desk.

“Meningitis,” Jake announced with confidence at the same time that she said “multiple sclerosis.”

“Well, those are both easy treatments but they’re vastly different treatments.”

“You can’t possibly be thinking meningitis,” she scoffed. 

“There’s no way that could be MS,” Jake retorted.

“Meningitis doesn’t cause vision problems.” 

“And MS doesn’t cause headaches.”

“He said he’s had those headaches for longer than the other symptoms.”

“Guys,” Javy called. He wasn’t surprised when the two doctors ignored him, facing off against one another for their diagnoses.

“Well, a spinal tap will confirm my suspicions and prove who the better doctor is,” Dr. Vikander stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

“And an MRI and blood culture will confirm mine.” Jake slipped his hands into the pockets of his scrubs, confidence oozing off of him.

“Well that MRI will also show indications of MS.”

“And your spinal tap will show meningitis.”

“At least the two of you agree on the tests that need to be done,” Javy mumbled under his breath, prepping the orders for the patient to have a spinal tap and MRI as well as blood cultures as soon as possible. After the requests were in, he sat back, watching his two friends argue their sides to one another.

He sighed as he watched. The whole point of having her and Jake consult on this patient was to show Jake that UMCSD fit him better. The toxic relationships from SDGMC were non-existent, the doctors worked together better, and while the funding was lower, they helped the patients who needed it the most. And Javy knew that’s what Jake got into medicine for.

“And another thing,” she shouted.

“Enough!” Javy exclaimed as he stood. “I need you guys to work together on this case. It’s not a competition. I’m in over my head and I need as many ideas as I can get. I trust the both of you can do that.”

“Yeah,” Jake mumbled while his shoulders sagged.

“I will try. For you, Machado. But don’t get your hopes up on a diagnosis from this guy,” she said. “Man thought I was a nurse when he got here.”

“You were at the nurse’s station. What else was I supposed to think?”

“I was charting. I’m in a lab coat. I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, lab coats and open charts indicate doctor not nurse.”

“Seriously, if I can’t get you two to work together, I will call another neurologist. And the only one who isn’t retired that I can actually tolerate is Cain. And you know what he’s going to say if I have to call him,” Javy explained.

“Sorry,” the other two doctors muttered. Their heads hung forward and their shoulders curled in, both avoiding eye contact with the cardiologist.

“Thank you. Now, if you will excuse me. I have more rounds to make.” 

The three doctors stepped outside of the office, the two neurologists watching Javy walk away.

“Can I buy you a coffee? As an apology?” Jake offered.

Dr. Vikander eyed him suspiciously and nodded, gesturing for him to follow her. They walked in silence through the hallways, twisting and turning their way towards the little coffee shop that was nestled near the front lobby. “How long have you known Javy?”

“Since our first year as med students. He came in from Tulane, I came in from UT Austin.”

“So you were in the same med school classes, then?”

“Yeah.”

She hummed with a small smile as they approached the barista and ordered their coffees, surprising each other when she got a quad with 2 sugars and Jake ordered a vanilla frappuccino with extra whipped cream. The smile on her face stayed while their coffees were made, confounding Jake, pushing his buttons until he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Why is Javy and I being in the same med school class making you so happy?” he questioned.

“Oh, no reason,” she denied. As they collected the coffees placed on the counter, she added, “just that I’ve been practicing longer than you.”

Jake stared after her as she walked back towards the entrance. Several emotions swirled in his body. Disbelief and surprise swelled at the core of his being, surrounded by jealousy, a need to be better than her, and also a sense of enchantment. 

She captured his attention with her fire and her passion, the way she fought for a patient she didn’t even know. She stood her ground when confronted with a different opinion. Her intelligence and wit challenged him in a way that made him want to both stare in awe and scream in anger.

She was going to be a problem for him.

[charliedawn04]

Secret Santa :

A Doctor House x Reader story part 2

(A lot of people asked for it. I delivered. 😁)

Dr House had tried to find you again, but you had succeeded in remaining hidden from him ever since your last encounter. He would say he was impressed, if it didn't leave him extremely frustrated. It almost seemed that you had the power to stay invisible. It was you who decided to come to find him at the end, at the request of Dr Cuddy who was tired of Dr House pestering her about you.

Unfortunately, it was a bad time to reappear, as Dr Cuddy had refused Dr House all of his requests to leave work early this week and he rolled his eyes when he saw you.

"Oh great ! Dr Cuddy sent me her domestic poodle to help me. What are you going to do ? Bark at me ? You're not even a real doctor. You're just an extra-cash baby-sitter." He snapped at you. Your smile hurt your cheeks as you tried to hide your annoyance and remain polite.

"Now, Dr House. I won't allow you to insult me. I am a pediatrician. Yes. But, I am also as much a doctor and a human being as you are." You pointed out and Dr House rolled his eyes.

"Oh great. Do I get bonus points if I act like I care ?" He came into your personal space and dared thrust the handle of his cane in your chest. He then leant forward, so close you could actually see the anger in his eyes. "…Or, are you going to run away from me again, miss coward ?

Okay. That was the last straw. You grabbed his cane and tripped him up with it. He seemed shocked for a second before you glared down at him. Your eyes were unforgiving and even though House was no saint, he had to admit your look was rather impressively intimidating.

"I am a certified pediatrician who spent more than 6 years in a shitty medical school to become an underpaid employee at a hospital where the only good doctor is also the hugest douchebag I've ever met in my life...I will NOT let you insult me. Or undermine me. Wanna make yourself useful ? Do your damn job, and stop wasting my time." You seethed. Dr House and his whole team were stunned at your outburst and you knelt before him before telling him what Cuddy had told you. "Also, from now on whenever you’ll have a complaint to make, you'll have to refer to me. Dr Cuddy is extremely busy and she doesn't have the time to speak to you about your 'breaks' or about our little conflict."

Dr. House glared up at you, his expression a mixture of shock and anger. Nobody had ever had the guts to call him out like that before, especially not a 'pediatrician' who was supposed to show him respect and gratitude for the privilege of working with him. You smiled at his wide eyes and dumbfounded expression. You then stood back up before sending a glance towards his trainees who had been smart enough to remain a step away from the obvious tension-filled situation between you and House.

"Careful. There's a step. And it bites." You told them before glaring one last time at Dr House. You then purposefully stepped over him to walk away. He waited until you were out of view before smiling and crawling to get back his cane.

"I like her..." He voiced out loud and the three med-students behind him sighed in unison before Cameron said with a hint of exasperation in her voice.

"Of course you do…"

House looked back at Cameron and his other trainees with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

"What ? I do. There's nothing wrong with enjoying a good fight once in a while, isn't there ? You could learn a thing or two from her, too."

His other two students, Chase and Foreman, exchanged a skeptical look between them but didn't comment further on House's statement.

Later that day:

You had heard an earful from Dr Cuddy about the "situation" between you and House. It had ended with a long monolog on the need for a good relationship between co-workers and even though you had no intention to apologize to the man, Dr Cuddy deserved it. She had put up with House for years without losing her cool. You could hold on for a few seconds...You hoped.

You knocked at his door and waited a few minutes before sighing. Obviously not here.

Welp. You tried.

You turned around to leave when the elevator rang and the doors opened to reveal Dr House. You both seemed to be surprised upon seeing each other, but Dr House then looked at the buttons on his right and you didn't need a magic crystal ball to know exactly what he was thinking of doing.

"Don't…" you instructed him, but he only looked back at you with a small smirk before pushing the closing button of the elevator.

"Oops." He said before waving you goodbye, but he didn't expect it when you suddenly darted forward to jump inside the elevator before the doors could close. You panted loudly before glaring up at House who was holding tight on his cane, as if he was expecting you to take it again—which made you feel a little bad.

House and you stood there in silence for a few moments, both panting slightly from the sudden rush of adrenaline. The tension was palpable, and House couldn't help but feel a sense of amusement at having successfully tricked you into being alone with him in an elevator.

He raised an eyebrow at your glare, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Well, well, well. Look who's come back for round two."

You closed your eyes and sighed. You knew you had to swallow your pride this time around…

"I...I wanted to apologize." You uttered when your breathing was back to normal and Dr House seemed surprised. Now, House had been expecting a lot of things that night, but receiving an apology from you was not one of them. He turned towards you to find you staring at him and tilted his head—searching for the reason you would be apologising.

"I would love to gloat, but I'm afraid I have no idea about what part you are apologizing for exactly ?"

You stayed silent for a moment until you clarified.

"I...tripped you. It was neither professional, nor a good way to show good will so..." you took a big breath before repeating your earlier attempt at an apology. "I'm sorry, and it won't happen again."

Dr House seemed to finally realize what you were apologizing for and was about to answer when the doors opened and you noticed you were both still on the same floor. You sighed when Dr House walked past you to get to his office. You followed him and he let the door open for you to enter his office. He walked a straight line to the coffee machine and while he was making it work, you gave a quick glance around. No pictures. No portraits. Only medical books and other studies or old TV shows on the subject.

You couldn't help it and quickly made a psychological profile.

Hermit by the way he was snapping at his own co-workers. Workaholic with his impressive collection of works on the medical field. Detached, as he made sure not to bring two cups for the coffee he was making, probably because he didn't have one—or didn't see you as important enough to get you the other one he owned. No current relationship by the cruel lack of any personal belonging other than his cane and mug.

"Don't apologize for something I liked." He finally replied while his eyes slightly creased in amusement. He was still still near the coffee machine—struggling to get it working. Your eyes widened as you tilted your head quizzically at him.

"...What ?"

House grunted in frustration as he continued to fiddle with the coffee machine, trying to get it to work. He knew it was a battle he was losing, but he refused to give up.

"What ?" he repeated. "What isn't clear about 'don't apologize for something I liked' ? I enjoyed our previous encounter as much as you did, if not more. You made my day more entertaining than it usually is."

You frowned in incomprehension and House noticed. He sighed and sat down in front of you.

"Look at me. What do you see ?" You arched an eyebrow, but still did as he asked and gave him a good once over.

"A very infuriating overconfident man with a lot of personal issues." You told him frankly, but it didn't make Dr House any less happy about it. He liked frankness.

"You don't see a cripple." He finally told you and his answer made your eyes grow wide in surprise and he must have seen the confusion in your eyes as he clarified.

"When you tripped me, you didn't think about the fact that I was a crippled and feeble old man. You thought 'let's put that bastard back into his place'. This is why I'm not upset." He then seemed to think about something else before adding with a light teasing smirk. "Also, I like when women put me in my place. If you ever find the urge to 'sweep me off my feet' again ? Don't hesitate."

He winked cheekily at you and somehow, a grateful smile drew on your face. You thought you had somehow succeeded in finding a deeper side to Dr House, but he had to bury it under sarcasm and very bad flirting to deflect it. You rolled your eyes and stepped out, but a smile still appeared on your face when you were sure he couldn't see you. He was an arsehole. But, he was also a good guy it seemed...

House leaned back in his chair, looking very pleased with himself. He couldn't help the small glimmer of self-satisfaction that crept into his expression as he watched you turn to leave. He had a feeling this 'apologetic' visit would not be the last time you and he would cross paths.

He took a sip of his coffee, wincing as he swallowed—the machine had managed to brew it so weak, it was almost like hot water. House sighed and reached for his cane, knowing that he had a long night of pain and case files ahead of him.

A few days later :

Yeah...No.

Scratch that.

Dr House was every bit the annoying smarty-pants know-it-all you had made him out to be.

You had found a way to stay away from Dr House at lunch and it involved volunteering to the children's aisle for story time. He wasn't comfortable around people—and especially children. You had to see him wait for you at the door and bit down on your lower lip in order not to burst out laughing as he was standing there, obviously waiting for you to finish so he could complain to you about his after-hours and ruin your lunchtime.

Until one day…

"Miss Y/N ! Who's that ?!", one of the children asked you and you were about to answer that he was a doctor, but quickly reconsidered. You then had an idea as you saw multiple of the kids staring back at House. They seemed to be in a staring contest, until Dr House stuck out his tongue at them and some laughed. He then turned away and pretended to be occupied with a medical article he had surely found in the waiting room. You leant forward to answer the child with a small mischievous smile.

"This is Dr Hugs. And he LOVES hugs, isn't that right, honey ?!" Dr House who hadn't followed the conversation hummed absent-mindedly—unaware of the multiple pairs of curious and sparkling eyes on him now. The time he had caught up with your words, it was too late.

"Wait...No. Nononono !" He tried to protest, but he was suddenly surrounded by a dozen of children, holding onto him while giggling and who eventually made him fall backwards under their weight. You sighed and stood up to leave, letting Dr House at the mercy of the children. He raised a hand above the swarming form of little hands and arms to reach out to you.

"Dr Y/N ! Get back here this instant !" You pretended not to hear him and laughed before making your way to the coffee room.

"Thank you so much for replacing me during my coffee break, House !"

"Y/N !" He shouted one last time, but you closed the door behind you.

House growled as he sat on the floor, surrounded by dozens of children who had latched onto him with their chubby little hands. If hell had a feeling…that was it for House. He struggled against the weight of their bodies, trying desperately to fight his way out from underneath them without hurting them. One cheeky little kid had even climbed onto his back, making it nearly impossible for House to move…He had to fight to free himself and escape.

5 minutes later :

Dr House slammed the door of the coffee room with such force, he startled everyone in the coffee room but you. He was quite a sight to see with his hair disheveled, clothes in a disarray from the gripping and grabbing of little hands and his eyes screaming bloody murder as they finally settled on you. You had never seen anyone trudge so fast with a cane before and when he stood before you, you raised your eyes innocently at him with a small smile.

"What's the matter, House ? Did the little ones cause you trouble ?" You took another bite of your sandwich and it tasted a thousand times better now that you knew Dr House would never come to your work space again.

However, you didn't think he would be so mad as to slap the sandwich off your hands. You momentarily mourned your beloved sandwich, but quickly returned to the furious doctor above you. He suddenly leaned forward and his eyes stared at you with such intensity, you could hear his teeth clench in frustration.

"You. Are. Insufferable." He spelled each word carefully, as if they would make any more of an impact on you if uttered slowly. He then grabbed your arm and your chest made contact with his sturdy one as he pulled you up.

"If it's a war you want, I'll make sure to make your life hell." Your smile faltered slightly at the way his eyes were so wide, you could actually see each careful streak of his pupils. He was dead serious, and you wondered for a second if you had gone too far ?

"Listen, I..." You tried to tell him—but he interrupted you.

"Don't. Don't apologize when you don't mean it. Lying makes you look ugly." He then left without another word and you knew you should have felt bad about torturing him, but you couldn't help it. It was just too tempting. You bit your lower lip in order not to laugh as you spotted a colorful drawing of a flower at the back of Dr House's neck. You knew that the nice thing to do would be to tell him, but you had never pretended to be nice. Instead, you only sighed and picked up your half-eaten sandwich to drop it in the trash.

House stalked back to his office, muttering under his breath about the insufferable woman who had dared to leave him in that hell room. He felt utterly humiliated and pissed off—a combination that was never a good thing. He sat down in his chair with a thump, still muttering to himself. As he did, he noticed a strange feeling on his neck. He reached back and found a piece of paper stuck to his skin.

He pulled it off and his eyes widened as he saw the colorful drawing of a flower. He immediately recognized it as a drawing made by one of those devilish little children who had pounced on him in the pediatric waiting room.

House's face darkened in anger as he thought about you and your role in this whole disaster. He crumbled the paper in his hand and leaned back in his chair, trying to calm down. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling of humiliation. He was a brilliant doctor, a legend in his field—and he had been brought down by a couple of kids and their i sufferable caretaker.

He crumbled the piece of paper in his hand.

This. Was. War…

A few days later :

It was almost strange. You had received no complaints about House for days now and when it was usually you who tended to avoid him, it seemed he had put in the extra effort this time. You hadn’t heard a squeak from him—not even to ask for more days off. It was…quiet. Too quiet.

Dr House was in your teaching room—the one you used to talk to the children or teachers cane to give them lessons.

He had a thousand of paper planes and you already knew what he was planning. You sighed.

House grinned as he carefully folded more paper planes, his fingers working expertly to create the perfect aircraft. He had spent hours cutting out colorful pieces of paper and meticulously working them into the perfect shape, and now he had a veritable army at his disposal.

When he glanced up to see you enter the room, that mischievous gleam was back in his eyes. "Ah, Y/N. Just the person I was hoping to see."

You glared at him warningly

"This is my work place, House."

House chuckled as he finished folding a paper plane and began testing its flight stability. "Ah, but Y/N," he said, his voice laced with a hint of mock sadness. "I was just looking for some company. Surely you wouldn't deprive a cripple of some much-needed human interaction, would you ?"

You were about to reply when the children came in for their lesson of the day.

As the children entered the room, their eyes widened in surprise and excitement at the sight of the paper airplanes. They immediately ran towards them, snatching them up and launching them into the air.

House watched on with a smirk, clearly pleased with his impromptu distraction. He turned to you, his eyes mischievous and his face betraying his triumph.

You glared at him once more.

"You…"

House grinned back at you, his expression smug and victorious. "What's the matter, Y/N ? Are you upset that I managed to bring a touch of fun to your boring lesson ?"

As the children continued to chase each other around the room, launching paper airplanes and screeching in excitement, House leaned back in his chair and chuckled.

You turned around to write sentences on the board, but you then felt a paper plane land against your back. You immediately turned back towards Dr. House.

He sat there with a look of casual nonchalance, but his eyes betrayed a hint of amusement.

"What ?" he said, feigning innocence. "You didn’t think I would simply sit by and watch without participating in the fun, did you ?"

You rolled your eyes before looking at the children.

"Come on, children. The lesson is starting now. You will be able to play later."

The children groaned in disappointment but reluctantly put their paper planes back onto the table before taking their places around it to start the lesson.

House sat there with a smug expression, clearly relishing in his little victory. He knew he had managed to disrupt your lesson, even if only for a few minutes.

You turned towards the children.

"So…today we will start with each of you telling me how you are feeling."

The children perked up at this, happy to engage in the activity.

One child spoke up eagerly. "I feel happy."

Another child raised their hand. "I feel excited."

And so it went for a few minutes, with each child taking a turn to share their emotions. However, as the last kid was speaking, House suddenly interjected.

"What about boredom, though ?" he asked, looking directly at you. "Surely someone must feel bored."

You shot him a sharp look, but a few children nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I’m bored," a little girl said.

"Me too," another child chimed in.

You sighed, frustrated at House’s constant attempts to derail your lesson.

"How about we play a game. You will each have a card with an emotion on it. And you will have to play that emotion to your neighbour. Without showing him or her your card, got it ?"

The children nodded eagerly at this, excited to try a new game. You handed each child a card with an emotion on it—there were joy, sadness, anger, disgust, fear, and surprise. Once everyone had their cards, you gestured for them to begin.

As the children began playing their emotions, their faces twisted into exaggerated expressions that brought laughter to the room. However, House, who had been watching the game with a critical eye, suddenly stood up and interjected.

"This game is utterly meaningless," he said. "What's the point of expressing emotions if they're not genuine? These cards are nothing more than a surface-level representation of real emotion. It's like trying to capture the essence of a person by looking at their social media profile."

You glared at him.

"It is an exercise, House. Those kids need to have a laugh and express themselves. Now sit down and zip it."

House grumbled but reluctantly returned to his seat, muttering under his breath about 'ridiculous games' and 'waste of time'. However, the children had not noticed his interruption and continued to play the game, laughter filling the room once more.

You smiled until Dr. House decided to make his presence known once more…

"MISS ! MISS ! QUESTION !" Dr House raised his hand like a child and you held back from rolling your eyes

"Yes, House." You replied—restraining a heavy sigh.

"HUM...I WANT TO GO POTTY, COULD YOU PLEASE HELP ME ?!"

You rolled your eyes and shook your head in disbelief.

"You're a big boy, House...I think you know how to find the bathroom on your own."

He exaggerated a pout.

"But…I need urgent assistance."

You rolled your eyes and couldn't help the smirk that spread across your face. House was clearly up to something.

"What kind of assistance ?" you asked, trying to hold back a chuckle. "Do you need me to hold your hand and aim for you ?"

House looked at you with mock outrage. "I'll have you know that I have excellent aim," he said, feigning a wounded look. "And I don't need your hand-holding, though I suppose I could use an escort to make sure I don't end up in the ladies' room."

The children snickered at the exchange between you and House, clearly entertained by the shenanigans.

You shook your head, trying to keep a dignified expression. "Very well, House," you said, pretending to be serious. "I will escort you to the restroom. Just try not to cause any mischief on the way."

House grinned victoriously as he stood up, leaning heavily on his cane. The children giggled at the sight of the grumpy doctor being escorted to the bathroom.

You looked back at the children.

"Keep playing and then, we’ll have a drawing session."

The children nodded and returned to their game.

You led House to the restroom, taking care to support him with your shoulder. He limped heavily on his cane, though you sensed his exaggerated limp was likely for show.

House feigned innocence as he hobbled along beside you, his cane clacking on the floor.

"I simply needed your assistance, Y/N," he said, his voice laced with mock sincerity. "You should be honored to be the one chosen for such a sacred task."

The children couldn't hold back their giggles, watching the scene unfold before them.

As you reached the restroom and helped House inside, you rolled your eyes once more. "Oh how gracious of me to be honored with this privilege," you said sarcastically. "Now hurry up and do your business, House."

You waited outside, leaning against the wall, trying to contain your annoyance and amusement.

Several minutes went by and you started to get impatient. "House, are you okay in there ?" you called out, wondering what on earth he was doing in there. Was he really just using the restroom or was he up to something again ?

"Almost ready," House called back through the door, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "Just a minute."

After what felt like an eternity, the door finally opened and House reappeared, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He gestured for you to follow him. "Come on, Y/N. I need a hand with something."

You glared at him warningly.

"House…"

"Don't worry, Y/N," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of playfulness. "This isn't a prank, I promise. I just need some help with my leg. It's been bothering me more than usual today."

You raised an eyebrow, unable to tell if he was being genuine or not. Knowing House, it was just another way to make fun of you. You started walking away.

As you turned to leave, House suddenly winced and let out a cry of pain. He stumbled, his cane clattering to the ground as he clutched his leg.

"Y/N, please—" he gasped, wincing from the pain. "I really need your help. I'm not faking it this time."

You looked back at him, torn between your skepticism and your sense of obligation to help. Maybe it was a genuine pain, or maybe it was just another one of House's tricks. But either way, you couldn't just leave him there, could you ?

You sighed and got back to him, kneeling beside him.

"Okay okay…Show me."

House let out a groan as he pointed to his left thigh. "It's just throbbing," he said through gritted teeth. "I think it's because I pushed myself too hard today."

You gently ran your fingers over his leg, feeling for any signs of swelling or discomfort. As you did, you couldn't help but notice the way House stiffened at your touch. It was a small but noticeable reaction that seemed to betray a hint of vulnerability beneath his usual gruff exterior.

You started stroking the area and sighed.

"Do you take medication ?"

Dr. House gritted his teeth, clearly trying to hide his pain. "Yes, I do, but it's not enough sometimes," he admitted. "The painkillers help, but they don't completely take away the pain."

"And no," he added, anticipating the next question. "I'm not addicted to vicodin."

You frowned at him.

"I…wasn’t gonna say that."

You blinked twice.

"Are you ?"

House looked at you with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.

"No," he snapped. "I may be in pain, but I'm not some junkie looking for his next fix. I take what I need to function, but no more than that."

He pushed you away, clearly irritated by your question.

"I don’t see why it matters anyway."

You frowned.

"It matters cause those things ain’t always good. Side effects and whatnot…"

Dr. House rolled his eyes.

"Spare me the lecture," he grumbled. "I know all about the side effects of the painkillers. I've been dealing with them for years. But the thing is, the pain is worse without them. So I have to make a choice - deal with the pills and their side effects or deal with unbearable pain every single day."

You sighed before sitting down next to him against the wall.

"…What happened ? To your leg…"

House looked at you for a moment, contemplating whether or not he wanted to share the story. Finally, he relented.

"I had an accident a few years back," he said, his voice soft. "I was hit by a car while I was riding my bike. My leg was shattered and they had to do several surgeries to try to put it back together."

He winced at the memory, the pain and the trauma still fresh in his mind. You hummed and lolled your head to look at him.

"…Just between us. I ain’t got nothing against cripples. I know how my first reaction might have been misleading but…"

House raised an eyebrow at you, surprised by your sudden show of kindness.

"No insults about my cane ? About my limp ?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Color me surprised, Y/N. What happened to the girl who loved to torture me ?"

You grinned.

"She took a walk."

House smirked back, appreciating your quip.

"A walk ?" he asked, his voice layered with sarcasm. "You took a walk and now you're suddenly a saint ? Miracles do happen.”

He leaned back against the wall, his expression softening a bit. "Look, Y/N. I may be crippled, but that doesn't mean I want pity. I'm the same old House, no matter what my leg looks like."

You scoffed.

"Yeah. Arrogant. Grumpy. Pain in the ass…I know."

House grinned at your remark, appreciating your honesty. "You forgot brilliant, genius, and the best damn doctor this hospital has ever seen."

He stretched his leg out slightly, wincing at the pain. "But you're right about the arrogant and grumpy part, I guess."

You grinned and chuckled.

"…Nah. If anything I’d attack you on your age."

House scoffed at your joke, his ego clearly touched by the comment.

"Oh please, Y/N," he said, rolling his eyes. "You think my age matters ? I'm like a fine wine, baby. I only get better with age."

He struck a cocky pose, clearly enjoying the banter. "I've got decades of experience under my belt, and I can still run circles around any of those young whippersnappers."

You rolled her eyes and closed your eyes as you leant your head back against the wall.

"…Run. Right."

House chuckled, knowing fully well the irony of his comment.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Maybe not 'run'. More like limp, hobble, or possibly even crawl."

He let out a deep breath, his cocky facade slipping slightly.

"But the point is, I may be older, but I've got the brains and the wisdom to make up for it."

You grinned.

"You got smarts. Yeah. But wisdom ?"

House raised an eyebrow at your skepticism.

"Of course I have wisdom," he said, his voice tinged with indignation. "I've seen and experienced more than most people will ever see in their entire lives."

He gestured to himself, emphasizing his age and his position as a doctor. "I've been a doctor for decades, Y/N. I've treated patients, made life-saving diagnoses, and solved some of the most complex medical mysteries this hospital has ever seen."

You tilted your head to look at him.

"And yet…You still aren’t satisfied."

House's expression darkened slightly, recognizing the truth in your statement. He sat in silence for a moment, contemplating whether or not to delve deeper.

"You're right," he finally said, his voice husky. "Despite all the successes and accomplishments, there's still something missing. It's like a void within me that can't be filled."

He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders dropping as he spoke. "I don't know what it is. Maybe it's fame, wealth…or just the thrill of solving puzzles."

You hummed and House chuckled bitterly.

"But maybe the problem is me, Y/N," he said, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. "Maybe it's in the nature of my character to never really be satisfied. Perhaps I'm always chasing after the next big thing, the next challenge, without ever stopping to appreciate what I have."

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration and uncertainty palpable.

"You have a child ? Some say that you get satisfaction out of that…" You suddenly asked. It took a moment for you to realise that he probably didn’t. "Right…Stupid question."

House chuckled grimly, grateful for the distraction from his dark thoughts.

"No, no children," he said, his voice tinged with a bittersweet note. "No wife either. Can you see me as a family man, Y/N ? Settling down with a cute little house and a white picket fence ?”

You shrugged.

"Maybe. Some really mean bastards got themselves a woman…Everything’s possible."

House laughed at your remark.

"You’re not wrong," he said, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "Some real bastards do manage to find love and settle down."

He gestured to himself. "But me, I'm a different breed. I'm not made for that whole family-life thing. My relationships are like my patients—transient."

"Weren’t you and Cameron a thing at some point ? Or you and Cuddy ?" You asked.

House rolled his eyes, remembering his past romantic entanglements.

"Cameron…we had a fling. It was short-lived and ultimately pointless." he said, his expression hinting at a hint of regret. "And Cuddy — that was an on-again, off-again disaster. Our relationship was like a rollercoaster with more lows than highs."

He shrugged, his expression guarded. "What can I say ? I'm not good at relationships."

You grinned.

"Shocker. Who wouldn’t like that prickly personality of yours ?"

House glared at you, his grumpy exterior momentarily revealing a hint of amusement.

"Oh, please," he retorted. "My prickly personality is just part of my charm. People love a challenge, right ?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly not deterred by your teasing. "Besides, who needs relationships and all that messy emotional stuff when I've got puzzles and medical mysteries to solve ? That's where the real fun is."

You nodded before standing up.

"Guess so. Now if you’ll excuse me, I got the children to go back too. My patients."

House stood up too, leaning on his cane for support.

"Don’t let me keep you," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. "Those little brats must be missing their arts and crafts session by now."

He started walking away, but not before turning back and giving you a smug grin. "See you around, Y/N."

You looked at him and your eyes lowered to his leg. You knew you shouldn’t say anything but…

"Your leg…Is it any better ?"

House grinned, clearly enjoying your concern, albeit reluctantly.

"Better ? Better ?" he mocked, feigning a dramatic limp as he walked away. "Oh yes, Y/N. I'm cured. Why, I can already see myself doing the Macarena and running marathons."

Despite his sarcastic tone, there was a hint of amusement and perhaps even a flicker of vulnerability beneath the facade. In his own way, House appreciated your concern.

And to both your surprises, you laughed.

House froze in his tracks, his surprise evident on his face as you burst into laughter.

"Did you just laugh ?" he said, sounding genuinely taken aback. "Did a genuine laugh just escape your lips ? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you're the one who needs a CT scan."

You couldn’t stop as you doubled with laughter as the image of a Dr. House doing the Macarena kept repeating in your mind. House's surprise quickly turned into annoyance as you continued to laugh uncontrollably.

"Oh, very funny," he retorted, his voice laced with sarcasm. "You know, I try to be serious and show a moment of vulnerability, and all you can do is burst into laughter at the thought of me dancing the Macarena."

He rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of amusement lurking beneath his grumpy exterior. You stopped laughing and shook your head.

"I would pay good money to see you dance. Any dance actually…"

House looked at you, torn between irritation and amusement.

"Oh, I bet you would," he replied, rolling his eyes. "Just so you could have a good laugh at my expense. But you'd be sorely disappointed. I'm not known for my dance skills."

He gestured to his cane and his hobbling stride. "Unless you count a pain-filled limp as a dance move."

You smiled.

"Heck. I’d indeed pay to be a witness of that."

Dr. House grinned at you and arched an eyebrow at you.

"Fine. But, I warn you. My services aren’t cheap. I charge $200 for a dance with the cane, $300 and I’ll bring out the wheelchair."

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the ridiculously exaggerated prices.

"Two hundred for a cane dance and three hundred for a wheelchair performance ? You're clearly overestimating your performance skills, Dr. House," you replied, your tone tinged with amusement. "But considering your medical expertise and my appreciation for entertainment, I might be tempted. Just name the time and place."

Dr House huffed.

"As long as you pay me ? I’d dance in a room full of interns…"

Your eyes widened and sparkled as a wicked idea bloomed in your head.

"Christmas party. In two weeks."

House raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your suggestion.

"Ah, the annual Christmas party, huh ?" he said, a sly grin on his face. "Crowded room, full of uptight staff members and their painfully forced holiday cheer. Sounds like the perfect environment for a little humiliation if you ask me."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the idea. "You've got yourself a deal, Y/N. Just make sure you bring your wallet. Payment upfront, of course."

Your grin widened.

"You got yourself a deal, House."

House nodded, his own grin mirroring yours.

"Excellent," he replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I'll start planning my performance. The cane, the wheelchair…maybe a cane-dance-wheelchair combination ?"

He chuckled, clearly relishing the thought of his impending performance. "And don’t worry, I'm already counting on that payment. I want all those crisp bills in my pocket before I start dancing."

You chuckled and extended your hand forward.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Dr. House."

House extended his own hand and shook yours firmly.

"Likewise, Y/N," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "It's not often someone is willing to shell out serious cash just to see me make a fool of myself. Maybe there's a bit of sadism lurking behind that innocent smile of yours."

You winked playfully at him.

"Just your humiliation and pain can bring me pleasure, House."

House laughed, clearly enjoying the banter.

"I should’ve known," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "You find joy in my suffering. Well, get ready, Y/N. In two weeks, you’ll have your fill of laughter at my expense. Just don’t forget to bring your wallet. I’ll make sure to give you a performance worth every single penny."

You smirked.

"You better not disappoint me, House."

House raised an eyebrow at your sly remark.

"Disappoint you ? Me ?" he exclaimed, feigning offense. "I’ll have you know, Y/N, that I always deliver on my promises. In two weeks, you’ll witness a performance that will go down in the history books. Your cheeks will hurt from laughter, and your wallet will be considerably lighter. Don’t you dare doubt my abilities."

You nodded in agreement before turning around to leave.

"Two weeks, House ! Two weeks !" You reminded him.

"Two weeks, Y/N," he agreed, his voice tinged with anticipation. "I’ll start practicing my moves. It’ll be a Christmas party no one will forget."

You both smiled to yourselves as you walked away.

[onepieceoftheoceanblues]

More One Piece X Batman au ideas/hcs

Just more assorted ideas from this OP Batfam au here iv been playing with. All you have to know is the Batfam is now in the op world tho!

-Im leaving the og post with multiple options but im def leaning twords them having their own Pirate crew, and either ally with another canon crew or have ties to the Revs, or both. Im unsure on what they'd be called because the Bat Pirates or Bat and Bird Pirates is kinda lame lol so ill figure something out later, and also am open to suggestions!

I feel like they're very open about being Vigilante-Pirates, working like or with the Revs but still being Pirates. It catches on pretty quick for them, and later is a classification used for other similar crews. Also, yes they follow the Pirate Codes and learn the traditions! They mostly learned out of curiosity at first but learned how important it was and kinda just fell into them.

Here's the set-up on the crew for those with official position, though they do have a lot of crossovers (Any positions not specifically mentioned are just done by all the crew or when needed, or not needed at all);

Bruce is the Captain, and Navigator (Tho I feel like all of them learn how to navigate just in case). The crew mostly governs itself, but they learn more about the Pirate Codes and make sure to listen to their Captain when it's important because it's as much as about respect to their crew but also for other crews. They adapt pretty well to it tbh tho it takes a bit because being a pirate crew is largely very different from a Vigilante group.

Dick is the First Mate, and their Communications Expert/Diplomat. Ie he keeps track of allies, friends, man's the phones, er, snails? And is the one usually to socialize or mediate with both interpersonal and outside the crew. He does use swords, but doesn't consider himself the official Swordsman of the crew, that's Damian. (This is because I found out in older comics Bruce taught him to fight swashbuckler style, so he uses swords he switches out with his Escrima Sticks when needed)

Jason is their Gunner/Sniper and Cook, and he also is their Chronicler. He bitches a lot about the last two, but he refuses to let anyone take over the Cook role as he doesn't trust anyone else, but also enjoys writing their adventures down despite denying it.

Tim is their Information Gatherer and Chemist Expert, and knows the second most of Navigating. He and Bruce also are the ones who mostly make the weapons for the others, though most of them could if needed. He also shares Archaeologist duties with Bruce, though everyone partakes.

Cass is their Spymaster and Scout, and also "secret weapon" ie she kicks major ass and scares the shit out of their enemies cuz nobody expects the tiny half mute girl to be one of their frontline fighters <3

Stephanie is their Doctor, because I love the hc that she decides to become a Doctor and has been going to med school (and because I need someone to fill the position without Alfred here ^-^'), as well as their Tailor, though she splits that with Jason and Dick as needed. Though everyone knows Advanced First Aid due to their lifestyles.

I feel like Duke decides to pick up the position of Official Shipwright because they need someone to do so, and actually comes to really enjoy learning how to make and take care of ships properly.

Damian is their other Swordsman, due to his skill and pride in his swordsmanship. He is also their Beast Tamer, and secondary Spy. He's often thought to be a Cabin Boy, which pisses him off, but he's got actual positions on the ship, so he isn't despite his age. Some of the Old Guard have issues with how young he is, but it's not like anyone of them had a choice due to his past, and it's not like he hasn't earned the roles either. He's more experienced them most pirate crews!

They all switch out chores mostly evenly, Helm the ship, rigging, and do lookout duty, though often trade off when someone needs a break from the others due to the whole "trapped on a ship 24/7 hours together". Most of them know how to use instruments, so technically they all are the Musician, though they don't often do so. Damian plays his Violin the most, however, and has secretly enjoyed learning Sea Shanties to play. Dick is the one who bursts into song and knows almost endless sea shanties.

They're also all considered frontline fighters, which is strange for even a small pirate crew, but anyone can also easily switch to support or really any types of roles in a fight, which makes them even more odd. It's not often crews are very versatile, specially with how most of them can easily pick up the role or position of the roles another inhabits.

-At first I was unsure if they should ditch the costume or nah, but then I realized how hard it would to be to live in them like, 24/7 cuz they can't exactly treat this like patrol. Plus, wear and tear of the costumes would make it just unlikely they'd survive for the months or even years they're stuck in the OP world

So I decided that they do a mix-up. They keep a lot of their costume or costume elements but add more casual and piratey vibes in, both for comfort and style to fit in a little better, like these images.

Bruce really didn't want to, same with ever taking off the masks or suits due to the risk of somehow being ID'd back in their world, but over time even Bruce has to admit they can't live in their suits or all call them only by their Vigilante names forever.

They still all wear masks for the most part, and how much they keep or get rid of varies between them, but yee.

Dick has a coat like above, but he also has a very nice black swashbucklers shirt he'll put over instead. Bruce was bullied into making his cowl only the top part of his face, but they got him a captains/swashbucklers hat that has similar bat ears on it as well to wear. They tried to find a Captain's coat that worked but in the end decided to stick with the cape.

Tim no longer has the full cowl of Red Robin but instead a half face one that also lets his hair free, and kept his "wing cape" and chest belts but overall went for something more casual but still armored.

Damian has changed the least with his Robin suit and refuses to really mess with it, though he will occasionally take the over-shirt off and wear a looser, more comfy shirt over the under-suit.

Uhhh the others I really don't have anything concrete but you get the idea for outfits lol

-The Whitbeards would really like them as pirates, they have soft spots for Crews that are Family, though they are not a fan of how young Damian is, even more so when they learn that apparently all the kids have been fighting since they were little, but eventually find out that Bruce liked it even less than they do, and he really had no other choice other than to teach them to do it safely then let them do it behind his back.

-Mihawk and Bruce would get along very well also btw