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thesewordsareallihavetogive · 3 months ago

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Life imitates art - Dr. Jack Abbot x amputee!reader

Summary: 2.6k words. Jack is sent into a tailspin when the woman he’s been eyeing for months at his amputee support group arrives at the Pitt in a gurney. Based on this request by @seasiren212! (this is now a series! Here's the master list)

Warnings: canon-typical depiction of wounds and medical situations, cancer in remission, some medical jargon, reader’s history of BKA, Jack’s history of BKA & accident, age gap, angst, etc. The most unrealistic part of this fic is a doctor spending this much time with one patient (live laugh love the U.S. healthcare system).

a/n: ugh I cried a little bit while writing this. I’m so passionate about oncology care mwah. Abbot is working day shift in this fic. Surrender yourself to the plot and pretend he’s covering for Robby if you must. Divider credit!

At 23 years old, your leg was amputated just below the knee. You’d been fighting bone marrow cancer for a while now, and you were running out of treatment options. To mitigate the risk of significant metastasis, your oncologist recommended an amputation.

So it was off with your leg.

Before the amputation, you’d spent months in and out of the hospital. Somehow, despite the fatigue, aches, and genuine existential crisis over whether this reality was a fate better than death, you graduated with your Master's degree in art history after completing most of the program virtually from your hospital bed. You got special permission from the dean of your university’s college of the arts to defend your thesis from the hospital. Your nurses arranged for you to use a conference room on the floor and made sure everything was thoroughly cleaned to prevent the risk of secondary infection.

Your IV was hooked up to some medications you couldn’t pronounce, but by now, you’d learned how to wave your arms around wildly without letting the tubing hinder you. The thesis committee didn’t go easy on you during your defense just because you were sick. Good. You didn’t want them to. You’d researched and studied your ass off, and earned the right to defend your thesis. The one you’d spent countless sleepless nights and nauseating days working on. So what if you were presenting at UPMC’s Cancer Center?

The oncology unit staff were the first to celebrate you as soon as you made it out of the conference room with happy tears in your eyes. In the time you’d been presenting, the halls had been decorated with streamers. Balloons surrounded your hospital room, and you were given an elaborate bouquet of artificial flowers. You did it.

The RN who’d been caring for you the longest was the one to push your wheelchair across the stage during your hooding ceremony. The oncology unit staff lined the front row of the audience and cheered louder than you’d ever heard.

“MA” looked pretty damn good after your name in your email signature. The Master of Arts degree hung proudly on the wall of your apartment, a forever reminder of your resilience through it all.

It took grueling months to find the right prosthetic and get it fitted properly, and even more years of physical therapy to allow you to be here today, giving narrated walking tours through the Carnegie Museum of Art.

Jack met you at his amputee support group.

At first, he assumed you were there as a student. You were quiet. Observant. Some of the local clinical psychology degree programs assigned students to attend open support group meetings. The large, structured tote bag that followed you to every meeting supported his theory. He imagined you had a laptop, a textbook or two, and a can of Red Bull in the bag, if he had to guess.

You didn’t take notes like other students Jack saw in the past, but you didn’t seem like the type that needed to take notes in the moment, anyway. You were a breathtaking wallflower at the meetings, it was hard not to notice you. The floor-length dresses that complemented your body and draped across you in all the right places were delicate and dainty. Jack was dying to know if your personality matched your exterior.

If Abbot had to guess, he’d say the mystery girl at the amputee support group was in her mid-to-late twenties, though she didn’t necessarily dress like it. Your wardrobe was all maxi skirts and long flowy dresses, cardigans and cable knit sweaters, statement earrings and small chain necklaces. Jack overheard one of the younger group members complimenting your clothing style one day, describing it as “serving cottage core meets coastal grandma chic.” Whatever the hell that meant.

At one of the meetings, you barely showed up on time. You were flustered and a bit disheveled, blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face, but still beautiful as ever. An intricately decorated lanyard and your employee badge hung out of the purse’s wide mouth.

Your name, MA. Art Historian, Curator, and Guest Guide. Carnegie Museum of Art.

Hmm. Jack wasn’t really one for the arts. He was most creative when figuring out how to perform complex medical procedures in unconventional situations. He was methodical and analytical in his life. He approached situations and his work with scientific precision, but he could be tempted to give the museum a visit if it meant he might run into you.

The Pitt’s ambulance bay was never empty for long. Gurneys rolled in and out of the ER all day and night. After all his years in emergency medicine, few things surprised Doctor Abbot anymore.

Until you rolled in.

Dana was the first to reach the EMTs, taking report as she guided them to an available room. Doctor Abbot watched from the provider desk, his mouth slightly parted as his eyes tracked you the whole way across the Pitt.

The charge nurse barely made it out of the room and assigned the patient to Abbot before he jumped out of his seat and bee-lined to room five. “On it,” he said, to no one in particular. Dana stood back and observed his uncharacteristic movements for half a second with her hands on her hips before returning to her millions of other tasks.

Doctor Abbot pulled back the exam room curtain to reveal you sitting on the gurney, fidgeting with your museum badge and shaking your exposed shoe back and forth.

“Hi, kid,” he greeted, donning gloves. He took note of the prosthetic leg covered in floral designs resting next to your hip. Not a student. An amputee. Abbot hummed inwardly.

“Oh. Hi, Jack,” you responded, surprise gracing your face. You knew he was a doctor; he mentioned working at the hospital a couple of times during support group meetings, you just didn’t know he was a doctor here. You took him in. Frustratingly, he was handsome as ever in his black scrubs with toned, muscled arms that threatened to burst out of his short sleeves, with a badge that read Dr. Abbot. Attending Emergency Medicine Physician. Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center.

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but notice that his gray curls were a little more mussed than usual, like he’d run his hands through them at least half a dozen times. You yearned to follow suit.

Mateo followed Doctor Abbot into the exam room not long after and glanced between you and the physician a couple of times, trying to decipher the dynamic. It was obvious the two of you knew each other, but he kept quiet and set up the WOW for orders in case Doctor Abbot needed it.

Jack sat down smoothly on a rolling stool and scooted close to your bedside. Maybe closer than was necessary, but no one in the room objected to it.

“What brings you in?” He swept his eyes over you analytically. You looked fine on the surface, sans the removed prosthetic accompanying you against the bed rails.

“Bum leg,” you sighed. This was embarrassing. Even when you leaned back against the gurney, unsuccessfully attempting to relax, you never broke eye contact with Jack.

“Figures. Mind if I take a look?” Abbot replied without missing a beat. He rubbed his chin, eyes darting between your face and the raised slope of your leg underneath your dress.

You hesitantly pulled up your skirt to reveal the angry red skin surrounding what was left of your knee joint. For some reason, exposing your thigh felt intimate, even in the hospital. It didn’t look good, and it admittedly had Jack concerned, but he wouldn’t let you know that. At least not yet. It didn’t look like cellulitis, at least not on the surface. There was no wound weeping or skin dimpling. He’d still run cultures just to be safe.

“Are you resting your leg often? Do you remove the prosthetic?” He ran through a slew of questions. Sure, he knew more about amputations and prosthetics than the average physician, but he wanted to know more about your story.

“Well, I’ve given roughly 8 hours of walking tours through the museum every day for the past week, plus 2 hours today,” you rattled off your schedule. It was strenuous, but this was the life you worked and studied and fought to build for yourself. You had no regrets.

Jack gave you a stern look, and you shrank under his gaze. You almost reminded him that he was being hypocritical, with his 12-hour shifts at the Pitt, but decided against it.

“What else?” He pressed. You sighed.

“I can put my socks and sleeves on, but they’re tighter than normal. The prosthetic will fit on, but it hurts.” The a lot was silent, but you both knew it was there. “I was limping this morning, and I eventually fell while giving a tour,” you continued. Doctor Abbot immediately scanned you for signs of any other fall-related injury. No bruises or bumps as far as he could see. “But a guest caught me. And the museum director insisted that I get checked out. Even though I’m fine,” you finished, exasperated.

“You and I must have different definitions of ‘fine,’ my friend,” Jack exhaled and leaned back, just far enough to not topple off the stool.

A comfortable silence fell between you two while Jack weighed treatment options. This was more of an outpatient specialist matter, but he was glad you came in. He’d learned more about you in the past 15 minutes than he had in the past 3 months of staring longingly at you during the amputee support group meetings.

Mateo felt like he was intruding on a private moment. He cleared his throat and started preemptively entering orders in your chart.

“Cultures? For cellulitis rule-out, Dr. Abbot?” The physician nodded thankfully to the nurse. Jack didn’t miss the flash of fear that crossed your face. Doctor Abbot ordered an ultrasound as well, just to make sure there wasn’t an underlying abscess forming, potentially evidenced by the edema at the end of your limb.

You cleared your throat. “Could you also run a CBC?” you asked, wringing your hands together. Abbot nodded again and stood, dusting his hands on his pants to keep them busy.

“Why?” It wasn’t accusatory. He’d do it anyway if you asked for it; he just wanted to know why.

“I’m in remission. Bone marrow cancer. Doesn’t hurt to check for signs of recurrence when funky things happen,” you shrugged, though you were obviously tense as you gestured to what was left of your left while pulling your dress skirt back down.

The room went silent.

That definitely would’ve been added to your chart’s medical history if you hadn’t come in by ambulance and instead had the pleasure of meeting Lupe at registration.

Up until now, why you attended the support group meetings wasn’t Jack’s business. Now, you were his patient. Your health and history were absolutely his business now.

Doctor Abbot offered a small smile and agreed to the additional test. You didn’t want his sympathy, he knew that better than anyone. He knocked on the door frame on his way out with a promise to be back shortly.

For a minute, Jack pondered what it would’ve been like to know he’d be losing his leg before it happened. When he had his accident, the decision was made for him. The blood loss had been near fatal. He’d long since passed out when the military medics realized they were forced to decide between his life or his limb, the lesser of two evils. He wondered if he had the time to plan a new reality beforehand, if things would be any different. Any better. He didn’t think they would.

He thought you must’ve been young when you were diagnosed with cancer. You were young now, notably younger than him. He wondered when you had the amputation, how old you were—how young you were. The ‘stump’, as you called it, was healed. The multiple incisions left silvery scars on your marred skin. You had lived without the leg for quite a while now.

Mateo drew your blood panel and cultures. He carefully added the bottles and tubes into a stat biohazard lab bag with the promise that an ultrasound tech would be by soon.

“Good news and bad news,” Doctor Abbot strolled back into your exam room with results as soon as he could, true to his word.

“Good news: Blood cultures were negative and the CBC was all within normal limits. And the bad news,” he continued, scrolling through your chart on an iPad before looking up at you. You nodded with a sharp inhale and gripped the gurney’s side rail, prepping for whatever diagnosis he might deliver. His eyes softened.

“Bad news,” he said quieter, “is you’ll need to stay off that leg for a while. At least until some of the inflammation goes down. I’ll leave the specific guidance up to your prosthetist. But for now, doctor’s orders are to cut back on the 8-hour walking tours. You got a wheelchair?” He asked with his arms crossed over his distractingly broad chest. He was solution-oriented, but not convinced you would heed the medical advice. You were strong-willed, that much was evident.

You groaned and threw an arm over your face to cover your eyes. You thought of the wheelchair you’d shoved to the back of your closet years ago. After a few beats of silence, you nod. You’re not happy about the plan of care, but you agree to it nonetheless.

“Do you have someone to take you home?” Jack asked, shuffling your discharge paperwork to keep his hands busy. Otherwise, he might give in to the urge to reach out to you.

Everyone you knew was either working or busy. Internally, you felt like a burden. The people in your life didn’t feel that way, but it didn’t make the guilt go away. You chuckled inwardly. What doesn’t kill you gives you a dark sense of humor.

“I’ll figure it out,” you replied nonchalantly, already opening the rideshare app on your phone. Jack frowned. If he weren’t in the thick of his shift, he’d offer to let you hang around in the lounge and take you home himself, but that wouldn’t be for another 5 hours. At least.

“I’ll come check on you after my shift,” he resigned. It wasn’t a question or an offer.

“You don’t have to do that,” you looked up at him from beneath your lashes, shocked that he would even suggest such a thing.

“I insist. It’ll make me feel better knowing you’re okay,” Jack replied without missing a beat. So he cares about you. Hmm. His hands found his hips, only adding to his inherent sass factor.

“You don’t know where I live,” you retorted. The banter was fun. God forbid a girl take advantage of her amputation to flirt with a silver fox trauma doc.

“I’m literally two taps away from finding your address in your chart,” Abbot smirked. He wasn’t lying. A couple of gestures on the iPad later, he was parroting your address back at you.

“Fine. But you better bring food with you.” It was your turn to leave no room for argument. You eyed him up and down, watching the way he squared his shoulders with confidence.

“It’s a date,” Jack replied easily, without thinking. You couldn’t tell whose cheeks were more flushed, yours or his. He didn’t dare take it back, though. Either way, you agreed.

“It’s a date.”

a/n: At the risk of sounding desperate, I'm begging y'all to leave comments and interact with my work. The likes are so super duper appreciated but I kind of feel like I'm posting into a void when 99% of the engagement is likes with no comments. anyway!! COMMENTS ARE REALLY APPRECIATED!! They keep me motivated to write more <3

Find more of my writing on my master list.

Turn on post notifications @thesewordsxupdates to get notified when I release new fics.

#The Pitt #Jack Abbot x Reader #dr. abbot x reader #Jack Abbot #Dr. Abbot

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drdemonprince · 1 year ago

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potentially triggering but ultimately harm reductionist statement about how people treat those with suicide ideation below, just a warning!

it's pretty fuckin rich that people tell suicidal people that they're "being selfish" by wanting to die, because it could not be more selfish to expect someone to just continue suffering through a life they do not want simply because their death would make them sad.

the people who say that kind of thing never want to offer any genuine help to the suicidal person that will change their life circumstances in a lasting way. they never want to house them, get them medical care, pay off their debts, introduce them to new friends, nurse them through a years-long trauma recovery process, get them a pet, drive them to a support group every week, buy them their groceries, clean their house, listen to them talk about their tough feelings for the millionth time.

lasting healing within a dramatically different and better life is never what they want for the suicidal person. they just want the person to not do anything that would make them sad. and not look too sad when they are around them, either, because even if they do white-knuckle their way through a painful existence, they are expected to also make it look easy.

but it's funny, isn't it, that by pushing away all thoughts of sadness, all thoughts of suicide, the person who says such a dismissive thing to the suicidal person is revealing how much they are on the brink of despair themselves. if, when faced with a suicidal person, your number one goal is to prevent their suicide for the sake of your own emotions rather than to improve circumstances for the suicidal person themselves, well, your own emotional grip on reality must be quite tenuous indeed. if you think the most important emotionally reality about a suicide is how it impacts you and not the person that has done it, well, you really must think that it's normal to expect other people to just constantly silently suffer for one another.

there's almost a bit of sick envy that i sometimes hear when people claim that they suicidal are "selfish." the statement almost seems to betray that everybody thinks of suicide at one point or another, that everyone has been in enough pain before that they've wished for it to end, but that since they have endured, they expect everyone else to endure the same for them, so that they don't slip into despair again as well.

it's so offensive because it is such a deeply missed opportunity. instead of batting away the statements of a suicidal person as if they were the greatest, most evil taboo, a person could really sit with them in their despair and say hey, I have felt that way too.

If only we lived in a world where acknowledgement of suicide ideation was not so taboo. Even psychologists and psychiatrists treat it as this untouchable thing, they freak out and jump into action and rob you of your body autonomy if you are willing to voice that you have thought of it. but virtually everyone has thought of it at one point or another, and some live with thoughts of it all the time forever but still have basically decent lives that they experience as worthwhile.

the legal apparatus that exists to prevent suicides at all costs have made it too risky for any kind of healthcare professional to allow the frank acknowledgement of suicide ideation to happen. hell, even the protections that have evolved online to supposedly "protect" suicidal people by filtering out content about suicide and redirecting those browsing for information about it to suicide prevention resourcse has, counterproductively, served to make the state of suicidality even more unspeakable. it cannot be spoken about, cannot be posted about, cannot be acknowledged, is not permitted, is never allowed to just be.

and that harms suicidal people so much.

we are so deeply selfish and cowardly in how we approach suicide and suicidal people.

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erodasfishtacos · 1 year ago

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Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]

summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped

word count: 5k

warnings: angst

author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)

You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here

Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.

They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.

Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.

Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.

The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.

While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.

After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.

Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.

YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.

She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.

YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.

It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.

YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.

YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.

Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.

Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.

YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.

YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.

YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.

It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.

There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.

Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.

Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.

She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.

YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.

“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.

“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.

“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.

YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”

“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”

“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”

“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.

“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.

“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.

“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.

And YN just…cannot relate.

YN only fell in love once.

Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.

It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.

“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.

As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”

Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.

However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.

The next few weeks blend together for YN.

Every few days she actually catches up on her work.

Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.

Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.

Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.

She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.

But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.

YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.

She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.

At least three months have passed since the doctor started.

And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.

“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.

“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”

This didn’t sound good.

YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.

“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”

Fancy.

And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.

Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.

YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?

The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.

YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.

It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.

YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.

Maybe Mitch would be the one.

YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.

Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.

YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.

It was all up in the air.

The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.

Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.

Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.

The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.

YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.

Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.

As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.

However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.

The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”

“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.

Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.

This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.

“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.

He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.

Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.

“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.

Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”

YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.

She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.

“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.

“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.

YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”

YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”

“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.

YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.

They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.

Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.

“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.

YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.

Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.

Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.

From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.

After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.

Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.

YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”

Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”

“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“

“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.

Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.

“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.

She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.

To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.

It works.

The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.

“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.

There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.

You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.

Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.

“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.

Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.

His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”

Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.

“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.

Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.

YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.

Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”

“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”

The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.

Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.

A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.

Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.

He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.

Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.

YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.

The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.

YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.

Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.

How boring.

When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.

Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.

However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.

His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.

YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.

Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.

When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for.

It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.

YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.

She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck?

YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.

YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.

She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.

When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”

However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.

No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.

“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”

“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”

“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”

The awful thing is that YN wants him too.

“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.

The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.

“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.

“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.

“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.

“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.

Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.

His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.

Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.

He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.

“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”

Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”

YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.

She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.

ahhhhhhh.

let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?

😙😙😙

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic

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defilerwyrm · 2 years ago

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I'm a trans man who wants phallo SO bad but the Fear Mongering people do makes me so scared. I have such a fear of surgery anyway and people say phallo is nearly 23hrs long, and it has more risks than heart surgery does, and idk if these are true bc I'm too scared to google it..But I want it so bad, but the stuff I hear scares me. Also people saying it doesn't have any sensation worries me. You said trans men can ask about it so I hope this is ok to do on anon!!! I'd appreciate a non fear filled reply so much thanks!!

23 hours!! Those poor surgeons, can you imagine!

Virtual hugs if you’re the hugging type, Anon, and a cool rock if you’re not.

Those things are definitely not true, not remotely. It’s a long surgery, but when I say it’s long that means it’s about 8 hours all told. It sounds like maybe someone heard it referred to as an “all-day” thing meaning a full WORK day, but instead assumed that that meant a full CALENDAR day. Or, you know, a transphobe made shit up to scare people.

It is most definitely not nearly as risky to your wellbeing as a surgery in which they saw open your sternum and cut open your actual beating heart. There is a fairly high chance of a minor complication that can result in the terrible ordeal of getting pee on your pants sometimes—a urethral fistula—and in most cases, they close up on their own anyway without needing another surgery to correct them. And in this case, “fairly high” means 40%, so it’s still less than half a chance that it’ll happen in the first place. At worst it’s annoying. Serious complications, the type that put you in danger, are extremely rare.

The sensation thing is also false, because they literally harvest a length of nerve from your donor site and hook it up to your existing bits specifically so you WILL have sensation! Sure, it takes a little while for the nerve to heal, but that’s just the reality of ANY surgery.

The nerve grows back in your donor site, too, by the way. While I was typing this up I discovered that one particular spot on my graft is ticklish.

Everyone has their own individual healing factor, but speaking for myself, I had full erotic sensation before the 3-month mark, and the orgasms have been incredible. The head and base are highly sensitive, and everything in between responds pretty damn nicely too, just less of a hit-the-ceiling level of sensitivity. And, you know, if you’ve handled an AMAB person’s penis much at all you’ll know that’s pretty much in keeping with how their dicks work too.

It is an in-patient surgery so if you have it, you’ll be staying in a hospital for a few days so they can keep an eye out for rare disasters. My stay was four or five days of snoring most of the day and periodically getting woken up to eat or answer some simple check-in questions, lift my arm for nurses to move stuff, etc, and then conking back out.

Being cathed sucks, but two weeks of frequent trips to the toilet to drain your bag is honestly nothing compared to a lifetime without (or with vastly reduced) bottom dysphoria. That’s the part that I hated. Everything else was your typical recovery: 10-15 days of sleeping 20 hours a day, then however many weeks of being tired, taking meds, and careful washing, gradually feeling more and more normal until you’re back up to full and ready to get back to business as usual.

Except with this one, you get to learn to pee standing up in the process. :D

(Protip: don’t try a public urinal until you’ve got it down pat at home. Not because of cis men, but because the learning process is messy, lol! The overwhelming majority of cis men in public restrooms want nothing to do with anyone else while they’re in there. The only place anyone’s gonna give your dick more than half a second’s accidental glance is in a gay bar. In 8+ years of using public men’s rooms I have yet to see one (1) penis that wasn’t mine!)

#phalloplasty #ftm #trans men #bottom surgery #trans matters #transphobia.#queerdom #medical transition #replies to things

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medvr-education · 6 months ago

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How VR Training Nursing Skills Are Transforming Nursing Education in 2025

🚀 Revolutionizing Healthcare Learning! 🚀

In 2025, VR training nursing skills are reshaping nursing education by offering hands-on, risk-free clinical experiences. Through VR medical training and nursing VR simulation, students gain real-world expertise, enhancing patient care and reducing medical errors.

🔗 Discover the impact of VR in nursing education today!

#VR training nursing skills #vr medical training #VR in medical education #Nursing VR Simulation #vr training in healthcare #Virtual Reality Simulations #vr Clinicals for Nursing

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transmutationisms · 5 months ago

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hi caden id like to hear more about swedens responsibility vis covid if u wouldnt mind elaborating? also sorry i accidentally unfollowed sending this lol x

hi flutters welcome back 💖 yeah so broad strokes off the top of my head lol but sweden was a particular focus toward the beginning of the pandemic because the government basically said they didn't need to do 'lockdowns' (at least what was meant by 'lockdowns' lol) and would focus instead on social distancing measures because most of their excess death was concentrated in nursing homes & other institutions & elderly populations, & so wasn't a concern to most of the population.

this kicked off a lot of really annoying back-and-forth where people who learned the word epidemiology in february 2020 were simply assuming prima facie that every single country in every single situation must always use the same disease mitigation methods with no regard for local factors, but then on the other end of the popular discourse were a lot of people who simply did not care about elderly & disabled people dying and acted like death was the only possible negative outcome of covid anyway so there was no need to protect anyone else. meanwhile the consensus in professional epidemiological and public health circles was shifting, sometimes for understandable reasons but also often because they were also kowtowing to government pressure to minimise the significance of the disease etc etc.

anyway sweden did not actually strictly maintain that policy for the entire pandemic & the whole thing is a little bit absurd on the level of granular detail because there would be like, people from the usa acting like sweden was being so uniquely reckless and in reality all the swedish government were doing was saying the eugenics part slightly more directly, slightly before the uk and us got fully on board with just announcing no one gaf about nursing homes. obviously i think this is morally abhorrent lol & additionally, it's just bad fucking policy because you actually can't confine an infectious disease to a nursing home or a prison or a hospital anyway—if it's circulating in these places it is also going to enter the general population. which it did & still does & which is analogous to how people are still acting like they can protect themselves from bird flu by masking as though the problem is whether they individually catch it & not the fact that it is circulating & mutating constantly lol.

anecdotally i have also noticed a lot of long covid papers use swedish data (when they're not using va/ons/israeli data), and i think this is not great because almost every study i remember seeing with swedish long covid data was using chart diagnoses, which is not intrinsically unhelpful but is a distortion of medical reality just as much as self-report outcome surveys are, & i virtually never see a paper even discuss the ramifications of these different definitions for more than like one disposable paragraph. but that's not really on sweden per se it's just a methodology issue.

#covid

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p5x-theories · 2 months ago

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Crazy Theory #2 – Wonder's True Identity

Hi again! I’m the one who previously theorized that Wonder’s true identity remains a mystery, and I’m back with more ideas.

1. The Stars

1.1 Red Stars

I went back and checked P5R and P5S—only in P5X do we see a recurring red star symbol. (Okay, technically P5T has it too.) It shows up in the UI, level up screens, and even behind player’s avatar. It contrasts with the black stars frequently associated with Joker .

If black stars = Joker, then red stars = Wonder.

1.2 Stars and Mythology

Greek mythology and astronomy are deeply intertwined—many constellations and celestial terms in the northern hemisphere are named after Greek myths. This aligns with the fact that P3 and P5X use Greek mythological figures for their Personas.

Take Wonder’s Velvet Room attendant: Merope. She’s not just the wife of Sisyphus in myth—she’s also one of the Pleiades (Seven Sisters), a faint star in the Taurus constellation.

1.3 Stars and Fate

Many P5X items are named after stars or cosmic imagery. One in particular, called “Final Refrain of the Cosmos”, references the reversal of a star chart, possibly as a metaphor for Wonder’s destiny.

Even if it’s just poetic, the star motif is so deeply embedded in P5X that it feels deliberate, not decorative.

1.4 With The Stars and Us

Stars have always been a part of Persona 5’s aesthetic—UI elements, backgrounds, and even the names of spin-offs like Dancing in Starlight or the credits theme With the Stars and Us.

But oddly, stars are rarely addressed within the story itself. P5X, as a follow-up title, inherits this motif—but here, stars are no longer just visual symbols. Their names and descriptions now appear in lore-heavy items, possibly containing clues about Wonder’s true nature.

2. The Ocean

2.1 The Bottom of The Sea

The Velvet Room reflects the psyche of its guest. Unlike previous games where the Velvet Room had no defined location, in P5X, Igor clearly says Wonder’s room is deep beneath the Sea of Souls.

But this Sea of Souls feels… strange.

In P1, the the Sea of Souls looks like an infinite void scattered with glowing stars—more like outer space than an actual sea.

So—where exactly is Wonder?

2.2 Reflections

The opening animation of P5X features underwater light ripple effects. In one scene, Wonder fall into a distorted city, rippling like water.

It feels as if both Wonder and the world he inhabits are submerged.

2.3 The Trial

The Velvet Room’s “Sea of Souls” challenge gives a reward called Stardust. Oddly, this has little to do with the sea—but everything to do with stars.

Stardust refers to cosmic dust scattered throughout space, formed during the Big Bang, and often carried to Earth by comets or meteors.

3. Desire

Desire is a central theme in both P5 and P5X. The tagline for P5X is literally: “Take back your desire.”

One day, I noticed a shop bundle named: “Insight Into Wishes”. Wishes? Whose wishes?

The bundle contains items used to summon Phantom Idols . Looking into these idols’ backstories and Co-op events reveals something strange:

Their Phantom Thief forms are direct manifestations of their deepest desires:

Kotone wants to skate—her phantom thief form is a graceful figure skater.

Leo idolizes heroes—his phantom thief form is a tokusatsu-style superhero.

Mushibi wants to escape reality—her phantom thief form is a bold virtual avatar “Yui”.

Minami wants to become a nurse—her phantom thief form is a nurse.

Haruna loves puzzles—her phantom thief form is an explorer.

Runa is obsessed with Shichi-kun—her phantom thief form is a furry.

Mayumi dreams of being a race queen—and her phantom thief form is exactly that.

All their desires are granted—by Wonder.

Stars. The ocean. Granted wishes. My crazy theory is this:

Wonder’s true identity… is a star that fell into the sea.

That’s why his Velvet Room attendant is named Merope—not a Frankenstein reference (as in “made being”), but a star in the Pleiades constellation.

That’s why the navigation symbol in the Metaverse isn’t just an ouroboros—it’s a meteor with a trailing tail of fire.

And that’s why the opening animation shows Wonder falling from the sky, engulfed in flames, crashing into a city submerged in water.

Like a shooting star.

And that’s why Igor says, “You possess the power to awaken desire in others.”

After all, what could stir up desire more than a shooting star?

This might even explain why Wonder’s Persona, Jánošík, looks just like false god :

White, gold and red color

Inorganic appearance

In P5, P5S, and P5T, we’ve seen that human desires can give birth to gods—twisted ones, too:

Yaldabaoth came from lazy desires.

Demiurge came from the desire for wish fulfillment.

Samael came from desire for self-protection.

So maybe… Jánošík isn’t just Wonder’s Persona. Maybe it’s a new false god, born through Wonder—the fallen star who grants desires.

Oh, this is an interesting theory! I particularly like the connection between shooting stars and desires that you make here- that’s a really good point about how they could be related.

I believe “wishes” is one way that the items used for gacha pulls have gotten translated, which explains (at least partially) the name of the “Insight Into Wishes” item that you bring up? Not that I think it necessarily negates that part of your theory, I just thought it was worth mentioning since you were talking about it.

I do think there’s also one connection you seem to have overlooked here. If your theory involves two points: 1) that the “Sea of Souls” Igor claims the Velvet Room to be under isn’t the real Sea of Souls, and 2) that Wonder “fell into the sea”, doesn’t that, itself, seem like it means something? It makes it sound less like Wonder fell into “the sea” as a general concept, and more like Wonder fell into whatever this Velvet Room is located in, if it isn’t the Sea of Souls. In fact, it makes it sound like Wonder might not have originated from this world at all, even if he lives here now.

Alternatively, if it really is the Sea of Souls, and it just looks different because it’s been decades since (and a different world from) P1, your theory could still say something interesting about Wonder, because what would it mean to fall into the Sea of Souls? Maybe that has something to do with his visions? It’s definitely an intriguing concept to think about!

#theories #wonder #igor #janosik #merope #stranger935158

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masa-yoshi-dan · 8 months ago

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Ensemble Stars!! x Pokemon || Stramaker Production

Masterlist || Cosmic Production || Rhytm Link || New Dimension || Others

fine

Eichi: Togekiss. Blissey. Clefairy Wataru: Togetic. Pidove. Meowscarada. Mime Jr. Tori: Togetic. Stufful. Teddiursa Yuzuru: Togetic. Indeedee. Minccino. Budew.

One of the Fine’s images are feathers. So I searched for elegant (white or ivory) flying-types. Decision for between Swanna and Altaria. Altaria felt more fitting with singing themes in it. But. It does not have feathers; its wings are clouds. But then I looked more and decided on Togekiss. It’s based on doves, snowy owls and angels. Also, it has the ability Serene grace. Y’know, like Angelic Grace.

Eichi did not have Pokemons until he got out of the hospital. Eichi has bad health, so I wanted to give him pokemon to help with this. Choice was between Blissey and Audino. Both are about health and partner for Nurse Joy. Even though Audino is more graceful and its mega evolution has some resemblance to angels. All its descriptions are about hearing. Blissey is all about health and care. Also, Blissey are rare, so a wealthy family would get one. Eichi has been compared to the constellation Orion, and it became a motif for FS1, so I wanted to give him a star-based pokemon. Staryu does not really fit him, so I decided on Clefairy.

Togekiss is the only white dove-based pokemon. Pidove, despite having “dove” in its name, is pigeon. But I have no other options. He does have multiple of them. For his theatrical side, I went with Mime Jr. and Meowscarada. Meowscarada is a talented magician. Mime jr. is more whimsical and looks more like a clown or a jester than Mr.Mime (and I just don't really like Mr.Mime).

Tori likes stuffed toys, so Stufful was an immediate choice. Also, it works perfectly with them both being cute but also pretty capable and talented. Tori has a brown Teddy Bear, so Teddiursa goes.

Yuzuru is a butler, so Indeedee was first thought. Yuzuru likes cleaning and tidying up, so Minccino was an opinion for this. Yuzuru picked up gardening and got Budew, which had not evolved yet.

Trickstar

Hokuto: Starmie. Staravia. Gallade. Subaru: Staryu. Growlithe. Murkrow. Luxio Makoto: Staryu. Porygon. Rotom. Mao: Staryu. Espeon. Lilligant (hisuian).

Trickstar’s symbols are trickster and stars. Closest to trickster in pokemon is ability “Prankster”, but no pokemon fits Trickstar. So the choice was among star-based pokemons. Staryu looked more fitting.

Staravia is a gift by Seiya who has Staraptor. Hidaka means “ice” and “hawk, falcon” and might be referenced to “The Nighthawk Star”. Staraptor line is based on predator birds (mostly hawks and falcons) and has “star” in all their names. Gallade is for Hokuto being “prince”. I wanted to give him Ceruledge instead due to Gallade being reserved for another unit, but it's so not prince-like.

Growlithe = Daikichi. The only shiba-inu-based pokemon is Okidogi, which is not only legendary but also evil. “It has body count” type of evil. So I had to look for other dog pokemons. Growlithe looks similar and friendly enough to work instead. Murkrow loves shiny objects, just like Subaru. Subaru hates dark places, so I gave him Luxio, which can luminate dark places (can learn move Flash) and has a star on its tail. Luxio is not a dog, so I could not use it as Daikichi. Subaru likes shiny things, so he can have a full shiny team.

Makoto is all about gaming and technology, so Porygon and Rotom both were a choice for different reasons each. Porygon is a virtual pokemon who lives in virtual reality. So it’s mostly just in PCs. Rotom can possess appliances and electronic devices. So Rotom can be helpful for him in various occasions, like going into computer, phone or camera, etc.

Mao was kind of hard for me to pick. There’s not much to pick from. Mao is sometimes described as a magician, so I decided to give him Espeon. It's psychic-type and pretty simple. Mao likes dancing, so I went with Hisuian Lilligant. The only other dancing pokemon is Meloetta, which is mythical.

RUYSEITAI

Chiaki: Minior. Blaziken. Vulpix Kanata: Minior. Frillish. Squirtel. Lanturn. Palafin. Tetora: Minior. Incineroar. Sawk Midori: Minior. Leafeon. Bulbasaur. Chikorita. Shinobu: Minior. Ninjask. Croagunk. Greninja.

First I was looking for super sentai or power rangers—like pokemon. But then I remembered that another RUYSEITAI’s theme is meteors. And Minior became the perfect choice. It has multiple colors for each member. There’s no actual black one for Tetora, but shiny is black! Also, now there’s no single leader, so a no-evolution line with no super forms (mega or g-max) works best.

Chiaki is very passionate about the color red, so I had to make all of his red. His introduction as Ryusei Red has "The red flames are the proof of justice!” so it must’ve been red and/or fire type. Blaziken was an immediate choice. It can also mega evolve. In the anime Mega Blaziken was protector of Kalos in ownership by Meyer. Armarouge was another choice, but it’s more yellow, despite pokedex color being red. Vulpix became the second choice. I think super protective over juniors Chiaki, having a not-evolved little guy cute and kinda fitting.

Kanata likes blue and loves the ocean, so blue water-type it is! His FS2 is based on jellyfish, so Frillish. He likes stuffed turtles so Squirtle. His last name means “deep sea” so Lanturn, who lives deep underwater (also it has a hero-like face mask). And Palafin, who looks like a normal dolphin but actually a hero. Like Kanata being actually stupid strong.

Tetora is Ruysei Black but like the color red and his Ryusei introduction references black flames. So Incineroar was the first choice. Also it’s based on a tiger and pre-evo has “tora” in its name. It would be perfect if Inceneroar was karate based, not wrestler. For karate i chose Sawk.

Midori likes greenery and cute mascots where the species is unclear. So Leafeon it is! Eeveelutions are pokemon’s second mascots at this point and they’re designed to look like a dog/cat/fox/rabbit all at once. Surprisingly, there’s not many veggie-based pokemons. So I went with starter pokemons that looked plant -enough: Bulbasaur and Chikorita (pokedex classifies it as green). They also work with “species is unclear”. Is Bulbasaur a frog or turtle? What is Chikorita?

Shinobu is Ryusei yellow and ninja so I was looking among that. Ninjask is based on ninja technique and yellow. Croagunk is used by ninja trainers. Greninja is also based on ninja and its category is ninja pokemon. And with that I cover his two pet frogs. Accelgor is also based on ninja, but doesn't really feel like Shinobu’s pokemon.

Alkaloid

Hiiro: Nidoqueen. Dragonair. Gyarados. Turogue. Aira: Nidorina. Sylveon. Luvdisc. Swoobat. Mayoi: Nidorina. Shuppet. Umbreon. Gastly. Tatsumi: Nidorina. Hatenna. Maushold.

Alkaloid has multiple themes to look into: medicine/toxin, cards and keys. There’s no card-based pokemons. Galarian Wheezing is the only poison-type who is not just poisonous/toxic. And Klefki is the only key pokemon. In the end I went with Nidiqueen. Queen like in cards, it's blue like a unit color, it’s defensive more than offensive, i have no other options, i am working on it for hours already…

Hiiro had only Dratini before MDM and Hiiro started learning more about the world. Dratini evolved after the main story. I picked Dragonair line as a “village ruler’s family has that pokemon”. Hiiro is good at martial arts so went with Tyrogue for him. Who knows what it evolved into. For Hiiro learning world around I thought about pokemon which can easily be found. So Magicarp which already evolved into Gyarados. He's a fast learner (It can also symbolize Hiiro being called dumb in the village and now blooming into a strong idol).

Aira had an Eevee which evolved into Sylveon. Sylveon was introduced in France-based region and evolves from affection/friendship. Aira’s catchphrase is “Love”/”Rabu” so I went with Lovedisc and Swoobat. There’s not much pokemon that symbolizes love, btw (why Luvdisc is not fairy-type?).

Mayoi has association with phantom and ghost and likes cute things. So I gave him Shuppet, Gastly and Umbreon. Shuppet is described to feed on negative emotions which helps people. Umbreon is dark and evolves with friendship. Gastly has been shown to be able to move through the walls and can help Mayoi to escape unwanted social interactions with gas.

Tatsumi was kinda hard. The only religion pokemon in-universe gods (god of sea, god of time etc) and THE God. So no pokemon for this. One of Tatsumi's specialties is sixth sense, and pokemon have the ability “anticipation”. Hattena prefers to be with calm people and can have that ability. Tatsumi likes to do house chores and Mausihold is the only pokemon that can learn move Tidy up through level up. And it's a family of four, like, y’know, Alkaloid.

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