what would the doctor do

(long post, sorry)

In spite of everything I love Harley Quinn but, damn, writers treat her so badly. I swear, the temptation to make her actually stupid must be terrible because it’s so often implied, or explicitly stated, that she slept her way through school. First of all, it does not work like that.  Second, she’s not a therapist or a psychologist, she’s a psychiatrist, she’s a fricking MD and a damn young one too. Managing pre-med and collegiate gymnastics that she relied on to keep her scholarship? Harley is fucked up, but she’s not the dumb blonde she plays. (also stop making her stacked, she’s a gymnast. she is 4’11” of pure muscle and is not top heavy)

If you want a good Harley backstory it’s simple. She’s ADHD but medicated and slightly robotic because of it. I want to take special care not to demonize meds but, rather, people’s disapproval of neurodivergence and a lack of focus on what is best for a patient rather than what is most convenient for others. So, maybe, around ten years old Harley is a hyperactive space cadet who’s brilliant at tests but sloppy at coursework, who would be a gymnastics prodigy if she could actually focus on technique and put in practice time instead of fooling around. Then the meds come and it’s actually really cool because she can do the things she needs to do instead of just wanting to do them, doing something else entirely, and getting in trouble. People are proud of her, she’s proud of herself. But now there are expectations. Family and teachers and coaches overschedule her, find worth only in her success and don’t care about her mental health at all as long as she’s performing and castigate her when she does fail. Fuck if you don’t internalize that. But she doesn’t look unhealthy and she’s doing amazing. She actually has to choose between the Olympic trials and continuing her grad studies. She probably has some issues with self-harm but it either doesn’t look like self-harm or is well covered up. 

When Arkham accepts her, fresh from her residency, it’s not a mistake. The woman is amazing. All they can see is a mountain of achievements rather than the seething ball of nerves, self-loathing, and imposter syndrome boiling just under the surface. That’s when Joker comes in. He’s got the Hannibal Lecter shtick down. Where everyone else sees an intelligent driven young woman he sees a frightened overwhelmed girl who is working her hardest to convince the world she’s anyone other than herself. Sending her into a nervous breakdown would be too easy so he doesn’t even bother. Instead he’s open with her, almost friendly. The other doctors are amazed, Harley is amazed, she’s not done anything particularly revolutionary but, for the first time in forever, it looks like the clown prince of crime is showing progress. He unravels her and it’s a challenge, she flinches back and gets very serious when he comes too close to the real Harley under the professional. Still, soon she’s questioning everything. She doesn’t even really like her co-workers. She hasn’t had a real friend in years. She’s forgotten how to have fun. Did she ever want this to be her life or did she just do it for other people? It starts so slowly that it looks, at first, like she’s getting better at self-care. Maybe something totally silly one weekend, a trampoline park where she can enjoy the way her toned body moves without stressing out over landings, a face painting booth at a street fair, some garishly colored downright tacky decoration that clashes with her sensible apartment. Suddenly she realizes how much she hates knowing the difference between cream and ecru. The beigeness of her life is repulsive. She hates the person she’s pretending to be even more that she hates herself which is really saying something.

After her weekend of freedom she would have called in sick if it wasn’t so suddenly important to see him. The relief she feels at talking to one of Gotham’s most infamous supercriminals is disturbing but it is relief and she’s been swallowing a slow-motion panic attack for hours. She admits, though she shouldn’t, that she took his advice about doing something fun and he teases her, what would straight-laced Doctor Quinzel do for fun? Did she realphabetize her sock drawer or buy a new clipboard? It’s not important to impress him, it’s really not. He’s dangerous, cruel, and he looks so proud when she admits that she bought a lamp shaped like a lawn flamingo. The only mistake, he says, is that she should have stolen it. She hopes the wicked thrill it gives her doesn’t show on her face. It does. She almost even laughs. He likes it when he can make her laugh and she likes it when he likes things.

It’s wrong and unprofessional, the relationship she develops, and she knows it but her whole life she’s been so high strung. Nothing she’s done has been for her, she’s not sure she knows how to really do selfish things anymore, but he knows the selfish things she needs to do. It feels good when she follows his advice even when it’s small things like the rainbow striped socks she wears concealed under her very bland slacks and sensible shoes. She’s so happy, almost giddy, and he loves her happiness, he loves her, he loves the real her that she’s had to beat down and hide for so long, the her that even she isn’t able to love. She is able to love him, though, and since he loves her she’s able to love herself for him, to protect and nurture something so important to him.

When the choice comes between her old self, the tedious endless labor of making the world proud, and Him, the spectacular man that brought color into her life, it’s not even a question. She kills Doctor Harleen Quinzel, she throws away the version of her that let herself burn just for medals and hollow accolades. She embraces Harley Quinn and it’s so much a part of her nature she can’t even see that she’s still living her life for someone else’s approval, except this time that person is a murderous clown. She hasn’t let her hair down, she’s just put it in pigtails instead of a bun.

One day, I hope I’ll be able to write exposition half as good as this…


Look, I really like Pearl Mackie. I’m super excited for her as Bill. I’m even hoping that she sticks around for the next Doctor. But give me a Christmas special with just Peter and Jenna.

I know. I’m greedy. They had two full seasons and a Christmas Special.

But give me this last thing BBC. Let my Doctor be reunited with Clara Oswald, the first face his face saw, the woman seared into his hearts, and let them have one last Christmas together.


Behind the Scenes of Gridlock (Part 3)

Excerpts from DWM 382, as reported by Jason Arnopp:

David Tennant:  “If you had to make a poll of monsters least likely to make a reappearance, the Macra would probably be fairly near the top. So it’s kind of cool, isn’t it? If you’re gonna do giant crabs, there’s no point in them being anything other than Macra, seeing as they already exist [editor’s note: The Macra first appeared in 1967′s The Macra Terror].  I like the twist that they’ve devolved - you don’t normally see many monsters devolving in Doctor Who!  There’ll probably only be a few thousand people who’ll get the reference. To everyone else they’re just a big new scary monster! It’s one of the joys of being involved in a series which has got all this history for free. You can just sprinkle in all these nuggets of recognition for those who’ll get them.”

Russell T. Davies: “The Macra’s a long story. Very early on, I thought sea monsters, Godzilla, no, octopus, maybe, ooh, Giant Crabs… and as a bonus, why not call them Macra? So the Macra were ordered very early on from the Mill, I think I asked Dave Houghton about that maybe 18 months ago, if not more. But baby Macra were a huge part of it, initially: little scuttling things, red crabs, that were eating the occupants of the cars. The Doctor would reach the lowest level of the motorway, open the roof of the lowest car, find skeletons, and 1000s of little crabs! Nipping at him! To really portray the lower level, the Doctor was also going to find his way out on to a concrete ledge, just above the sea, and discover the HUGE Macra, lurching about in the water. The Big Angry Macra were then going to give chase, climbing up the walls of the city, citizens screaming, etc! Oh, imagine the budget!”

Other parts of this photo set:  [ one ] [ two ]
[ All Doctor Who Behind-the-Scenes Photo Sets ]

Byun Baekhyun//Psych - Part 4

Originally posted by dodyo

Summary: After a month of being broke at college, you finally find a place to stay, but the only con is that there is nine other people you have to share a house with - one in particular who makes it his mission to irritate you at every turn - but they’re hiding something from you. Something big. (1/ 2/ 3/ 4/ 5/ 6/ 7)
Scenario: Werewolf!AU, college!AU, series
Word Count: 5,765

Keep reading

After Manhattan, River told the Doctor not to travel alone, knowing what it would do to him to be alone and grieving and without anyone to talk some sense into his stupid, sentimental self.

After Darillium, she sent Nardole after him to make sure that he didn’t run himself off the face of the universe again. She didn’t leave the choice up to him, knowing, no doubt, that he woudn’t pick someone up of his own free will for a very long time, if ever. She made sure there would be no living alone on a cloud for however knows how long after she’d gone again. 

Leave me and my broken heart alone to drown in this huge ocean of feels.

Timing - Eleventh Doctor X Reader

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Minor language

Summary: The Doctor (Eleven) is tries to get the confidence to tell the reader how he feels, but she takes the opportunity to get lost in the Tardis.


Giving oneself a pep-talk was much more difficult than it seemed, and unfortunately, the Doctor was learning it first hand.

For the thousandth time that evening, he banged his head against the library wall. “You can do this,” he muttered to himself. “Its just Y/N.”

Actually, that was the exact problem. Every time he even thought about her lately, he couldn’t help but feel… Funny. It was only recently he faced the facts and figured out what exactly that funny feeling was.


Head over heels in love. He tried not to let it happen, but here he was now, banging his head against a wall while she was in her room, probably texting some human boy that was much more handsome than himself with cooler bowties.

And damn, he really was in trouble now, wasn’t he?

“You’re a Time Lord, you shouldn’t have to deal with this.” He kept on muttering to himself, hoping to calm himself down. It wasn’t working.

“You’re going to do this,” he said, trying to raise his hopes. “You are the last Time Lord of Galifrey, and you are going to tell that girl how you feel.”

He stood back from the wall and took a deep breath, leaving the library. He could feel his confidence wavering as he got to her door and knocked. And when she didn’t answer, it came close to crumbling. He shook off the doubt and cleared his throat.

“Y/N? Are you in there? I need to… Talk to you.”

I sound like an idiot, don’t I?He thought.

When he got no reply, he said louder: “Y/N?”

He furrowed his brow before heading off to the console room She must be there instead.

But she wasn’t. She wasn’t in there, and the confidence he was had fell into a panicy mess. Quickly, he began a scan of the ship, looking for life forms. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw what was surely her appear on the map.

Why in the world was she so deep in the Tardis? he thought. She was so far back, how did she even get there?

Whatever the reason, the Doctor knew he had to go after her.

So, he weaved in and out of the Tardis halls, making left turns then right turns and lefts again and rights again… When he felt he was drawing close to where she was, he began to call out her name.

“Y/N!” he shouted, over and over. It wasn’t long until his cries became more panicky when he was answered with silence.

He gave another desperate yell, louder than any pervious. This time, he received a small reply:


He breathed a sigh of relief, straining to hear her. He ran in the direction he thought it was from.

He rounded the corner, and grinned. Y/N was standing there with wide eyes, and he ran forward to pull her in his arms. He held her tightly and felt her smile.

Pulling back, he placed his hands on her shoulders and looked at her face. “What happened?”

She looked at him sheepishly. “I got lost.”

“Well, you had me worried sick,” he said. “A on top of that, you have absolutely the worst timing ever.”

She furrowed her brow in what the Doctor would consider a very cute way. “What do you mean?”

He took a deep breath. “I mean it took me all day to build up the courage to do this.”

He pressed his lips to hers, and after the initial surprise, she melted into it before breaking away to breathe. The pair grinned at each other, faces red as the Doctor fidgeted a bit.

“Well,” Y/N said, smiling ear from ear. “If you still have the courage, I wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

Expectant Father!Soonyoung

Originally posted by fyhoshi

  • a/n: not requested but there actually was one similar to this about Soonyoung wanting kids but I will still do that one separately. PLEASE ENJOY THE BIRTHDAY AU FOR CUTIE SOONYOUNG!!!! THAT GIF BTW GOT ME CRYING
  • Expectant Father Soonyoung to celebrate the Birthday Boy
  • Soonyoung was kind of oblivious to the signs of pregnancy, he knew what they were, I mean he’s seen a few of his female friends go through it as well as his guy friends complaining about their wives or girlfriend
  • he just kind of thought you were having a bad flu or something
  • when things like you getting morning sickness, or you having quick changes of mood, or when you suddenly really hated your favorite dish that Soonyoung begged Mingyu to make, when all of these started to occur
  • Soonyoung brushed it off and hoped you would get better soon because he’s kind of scared now
  • You kind of ignored all the signs too, because you really did not expect to have kids just yet
  • but when you notice your period has suddenly become late, that’s when all the sudden ill feelings point towards one big thing: pregnancy
  • you started laughing when you saw the pregnancy test show a positive, you were laughing because ‘no. no. this can’t be right.”
  • so you do what any sane women would do, go to the doctor. And the doctor says the opposite of what you originally wanted “congratulations, you’re pregnant.”
  • that’s kind of an ‘aw fuck’ moment, you and Soonyoung had just gotten back from your honeymoon a few weeks ago and this was kind a quick
  • for the first few days afterwards you’re glaring at Soonyoung and he’s all like “What” with his mouth stuffed with noodles as you sit on the end of the couch
  • and in your head you’re thinking ‘horny bastard couldn’t keep it in his pants for 24 hours, making me do it with him in Seungcheol’s bathroom right after the 12 hour flight back from the honeymoon, I hope you suffer’
  • finally you decide to tell him
  • you sit him down, it’s late in the afternoon, Soonyoung is staring at you curiously as you give a deep sigh, and in the midst of all the silence, you say right out
  • “I’m pregnant”
  • it get’s really quiet for like 5 minutes, on Soonyoung’s face passes various emotions, surprise, fear, joy, anticipation, nervousness
  • “Is it mine?”
  • all in all, Soonyoung becomes this very excited puppy, his eyes are just lit up, his lips are curled into a permenant smile, and the way he’s reacting eases you about the whole situation
  • Soonyoung calls everyone he knows, screaming at the top of his lungs “Y/N IS PREGNANT WITH MY BABY! I’M HAVING A BABY” *immediately hangs up and calls the next person*
  • but then comes the whole financial issue after the excitement and Soonyoung is working so hard trying to make everything okay
  • like he has a whole list of things to help make sure you two are at a good financial point to be able to take care of the baby
  • “I’ll get a full time job, you can continue working if you want, we can borrow money from our parents and pay them back. And when you go back to work, we can ask the guys to babysit, 12 guys, one of them is bound to be free. Or we can just drop the baby off with Jihoon, he’s always in his studio anyways, all he has to do is remember to feed the baby”
  • The whole talk brings a smile to your face, because he’s so serious, his eyes are squinting at the list he made and all you want to do is pinch his little hamster cheeks
  • that one overly excited dad in the lamaze
  • he’s actually the one that signed you up for the lamaze classes and he pumps it up so much
  • goes to most of the doctor’s appointments with you but if he can’t then he forces one of the guys *cough*Jihoon*cough* to go with you
  • wants to know the sex of the baby soooo bad
  • he’s jumping everywhere in the doctors office and the doctor gives him a strange look but Soonyoung doesn’t mind because he really really wants a girl (and he bet on it with the guys)
  • “Congratulations, you’re having twin girls”
  • “TWINS?!?”
  • is the most excited dad in the entire world
  • says to the guys that since he’s having twins, they should give him double
  • at first you’re kind of freaking out bc “SOONIE I ONLY WANTED ONE! BUT NOW WE HAVE TWO! WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO”
  • He holds you close, kisses the temple of your forehead, rest his chin on top your head, slowly stroking your arm in comfort, and whispers how everything is going to be okay, how everything will work out in the end because they were blessed with two girls, two wonderful girls that are going to be just as strong as their mother
  • and it’s the most comforting and soothing thing you’ve ever heard him say
  • sets up the nursery room in one day thanks to 12 boys diligently working (by 12 I mean 11 because Jeonghan is chilling with you on the couch talking about baby stuff)
  • Soonyoung will in fact run to the store in the middle of the night to get you anything you need
  • you just slap him across the chest and he’s yelling that he’s up, and he goes to the store with a list in hand of your weird pregnancy cravings
  • When your stomach gets really big, he can’t help but fall in love with it, he’s touching it, and laying his head on it and saying things like “it’s your dad talking, can you hear me”
  • starts screaming when the girls are kicking and he’s calling everyone once again because his baby girls are moving
  • Soonyoung was at work at the time you were going to labor
  • Lucky for you, Jihoon was visiting for some random reason (he actually cares about you), and so Soonyoung got the call from Jihoon to meet them at the hospital
  • Jihoon screaming in the car because you’re gripping his arm really tight and god when did you get so strong y/n
  • you’re lying on a bed since you weren’t dilated just enough yet, so the doctors are periodically checking on you and while you’re waiting you just see this figure zoom by before it back tracks and there he is
  • Soonyoung, all sweaty and huffing and puffing, he’s by your side in a minute, holding your hand as your contractions happen
  • 10 hours, you’re in torture for 10 hours before you are fully dilated, and in those 10 you have managed to strike immense fear into Soonyoung that he periodically had to leave the room to let you calm down
  • “Where’s y/n?”
  • Soonyoung with a dead look in his eye “she’s calming down after calling me a horny bastard in front of the doctor”
  • finally, it comes to the part where you’re pushing, and you’re holding Soonyoung’s hand so hard that he thinks you’re going to break it off and it hurts even more than any time Jihoon has slapped or hit him
  • he’s telling you everything will be okay and that you have to push more but you’re so out of it and in pain that you just kind of snap at Soonyoung but he brushes it aside because he knows you’re hurting
  • and after what seems like eternity, Soonyoung hears it, the first cry of the baby girl and his heart immediately drops because woah i made that
  • after the second baby comes crying out, you’re totally exhausted, Soonyoung brushes your sweaty hair out of your face and he’s giving you the biggest smile ever, telling you how great of a job you did
  • When the nurses hand you and Soonyoung the babies, Soonyoung has the most astonished look on his face
  • He can’t believe he’s staring at his creation, he’s staring at his little girl, the little pride of his life
  • Later, in the hospital room, when you’re sleeping, he’s hovering over the baby girls, a fatherly grin on his face as he watches them sleep soundly, and Soonyoung just vows to himself he would do anything for these girls, and when he looks back at your resting expression, he couldn’t have found you more beautiful than when you were swearing your head off at him while pushing his little girls out of your body.  
Doctors Hug(Spencer Reid/Reader)

Originally posted by toyboxboy

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Reader
Words: 570+
Warning(s): Murder mention
A/N: yey my first fic for my tol son spence ^-^
Request: i saw youre watching CM and i was wondering if you could do a spencer reid oneshot where the reader goes through a rough case and he comforts her?

Keep reading


After the Doctor loses all his friends, Shippy finds him out in the rain and proceeds to tell bad jokes to try to make the Doctor feel better. It’s what Rose would want him to do. If he cannot succeed in making the Doctor feel better then Shippy will just have to put him out of his misery. 

#shippythinksDocisstupidforleavingRoseonthatbeach #stupidtimebitch

Imagine being the daughter of Addison Montgomery and Derek Shepherd, and meeting Stephen Strange during your residency.

Author: @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

Requested by: @jenandoli

Fandom(s): Doctor Strange/MCU & Grey’s Anatomy

Word count: ~1900

Link to Part 2: http://idontgiveaflyinggrayson69.tumblr.com/post/157081239712/imagine-being-the-daughter-of-addison-montgomery

Warning(s): Secondary character death (background) – no depiction of death.


I knew I was going to go into medicine from a young age. Having Addison Montgomery and Derek Shepherd as parents’ sort of cemented the deal.I grew up in the hospital; playing with medical dolls and drawing on old charts. The hospital became my safe space, especially when Derek and Addison’s fights got bigger and bigger. Some way or another I’d always find my way back to the hospital. More often than not, Derek and Addison would find me tucked away in some room looking over scans.

Addison wanted me to go into Obstetrician-Gynecology, fetal surgery, or neonatal medicine; like her. Derek however, wanted me to experience the different disciplines and pick the one I felt most drawn to, or happiest with.

This is probably the reason I got along better with my dad.

As I got older, Derek and I spent a lot of time together looking at brain scans, him showing me what different things were, different techniques, and such. I fell in love with Neuro.

Which makes the fact that I chose to stay with Addison when they got a divorce, surprising. I got to see Derek once a month, which increased to almost every day, when Addison chased Derek to Seattle.

But when I got accepted to med school in Seattle, at the University of Washington School of Medicine, Derek and Meredith invited me to stay with them, and I did, much to Addison’s disapproval.  

It was rocky at first, but Meredith became like a cool aunt to me.

Derek, Meredith and Cristina coached me through med school, and were probably the reason I graduated head of my class.

Being head of my class, and having done my internship at Grey-Sloan Memorial meant that I could do my residency almost anywhere I wanted to, which is why I applied for Grey-Sloan Memorial, not just to stay close to my family, but also because it had one of the best residency programs in the country, and Metro-General in New York, where the famous Doctor Stephen Strange worked.

Stephen and my father constantly were in a battle for neuro supremacy, and he was my medical idol, which made Derek roll his eyes at me. I mean, I was his daughter and I idolized his rival. Cristiana, Meredith and I used to gossip all about Doctor Stephen Strange though, talking about his medical techniques to how hot he was. This almost always ended up with Cristina and/or Meredith telling me to sleep with him, since both of them couldn’t.

When Derek died, to say I lost it was an understatement. By then, I barely saw Addison; all I had was Derek and his new family. But without Derek, the house was too quiet, too dark. I knew I should have stayed, been there for Meredith. But I couldn’t look at any of his things. Grey-Sloan Memorial became less of a safe, happy, place for me, and more of my own personal hell.

Which is why I accepted the residency at Metro-General.

Moving across the country to New York was difficult. Meredith had completely shut down, and Cristina stayed with her to make sure she didn’t hurt herself. That left Alex Karev and Miranda Bailey to help me. It wasn’t as bad as I expected, they were both nice and happy to help. I saw a lot of Alex at home, and he was a weird brother to me. Of course, Miranda attempted a few more times to have me take a position at Grey-Sloan, but I declined, and explained that I needed to be in a new place where Derek never touched, in order to recover. I also told her that, in a few years, might return as a Neuro attending, which she accepted.


My first day at Metro-General was neve racking, to say the least.

My always steady hands, that I prided myself on, would not stop shaking.

I knew the chances of me having Doctor Strange as my attending right off the back were slim. I knew the chances of me standing out, or of him even liking me, were even slimmer.

I just had to make sure I didn’t make a fool of myself in front of him.

When I got to the hospital, I found that the Residency program was smaller than I was expecting. Each Attending had two residents instead of four.

While this surprised me, and somewhat frightened me, I was also excited, all for the same reason: I would be spending more time with Doctor Strange.

A couple minutes passed and the working attendings filed into the locker room.

My breathe caught in my throat being so close to him. My first thought was that he was taller than I expected.

After the Chief of Surgery gave a big speech about new beginnings, and that we were the new generation of medicine, what we would see, what we would do, what were expected of us, and do on; the doctors, one by one, began listening off their pair of residents.

“Doctors Anderson and Montgomery-Shepherd.” Doctor Strange read, not looking up from his clipboard, though a small smirk played on his lips.

When all the doctors finished calling out their residents, we all moved out.

“Anderson, there is a long list of patients in the pit, see to them.” Doctor Strange said quickly, not even look up from the chart he was holding when he pointed to the pile of charts for the pit, which were on the desk next to us. And just like that, Anderson was gone.

This was the work of residents. I knew it was coming, but I still wasn’t looking forwards to it. No one liked doing resident work, the long shifts, barely leaving the hospital, doing research, and doing your attending’s dirty work.

“Montgomery-Shepherd, you’re with me.” Doctor Strange finished, and quickly began walking.

Say something.

I kept telling myself I should be saying something. Anything.

But I couldn’t.

I hatred myself for being stuck in a star struck fashion, I really did.

If Cristina was here, she would have kicked my ass already.

Or pushed me into him.

I don’t know which is worse.

“I’m sorry about your loss.” Doctor Strange, said, surprisingly.

I knew him to be arrogant, not caring about anyone but himself; his comment took me off guard.

“Thank you.” I replied quietly.

“Are you always this quiet?” He asked, stopping to look at me.

Unsure of how to respond, I gave a small shrug. “I guess so, Doctor.”

He sighed, “we’re going to have to work on that. You’re a doctor. You need to act like it.”

And with that we were walking again.

“Your father was a brilliant man. Our rivalry was just for show; I want you to know that.”

I nodded. I had hoped that there would be no comments about Derek here. But I suppose if I wanted that, I should have unhyphenated my name. But my name was the last real part of Derek I had. I couldn’t let that go.

“Head of your class at University of Washington School of Medicine, outstanding work, you should be very proud of yourself.” Doctor Strange continued.

My heart began to beat faster. Why did he know, or care so much about me?

“I’ve read your dissertation about providing oxygen to dying cells to prolong the time period before nerve damage occurs, almost twenty-times.” I said quickly, trying to change the subject back to him.

He furrowed his brows.

“Twenty-times, a little excessive for someone who knows subjects like that like the back of your own hand.”

Again, his comment surprised me. This time, I found my voice.

“I’m sorry? How, and why, do you know so much about me?”

“Derek used to talk all about you at the Neurosurgery committees. He wouldn’t stop bragging about how smart and beautiful you are. How you had the Shephard gene for Neurosurgery and that you were going to peruse it. Follow in his footsteps. He was insanely proud of you.” The Doctor’s voice softened the further he spoke.

I was stunned silent and stopped walking.

“That is why I asked for you. I see now that Derek was not exaggeration your beauty, which means he must not have been exaggerating your intelligence. I’m going to make sure you live up to your father’s legacy and create your own. And luckily for you, you’ll be working under the best surgeon in the hospital, me.” Doctor Strange smirked at him, his arrogance seeming to come back.

He patted me on the shoulder, in an almost robotic sense.

Everything took a minute to process. When it did, all I could do was nod.

Then it hit me.

Did Stephen Strange just call me beautiful?

I guess that Doctor Strange came to the conclusion of my thoughts, because he gave a small laugh and smiled at me before nodding his head towards a long hall, before beginning to make his way in that direction.

I quickly walked after him.

Residency wasn’t looking too bad at the moment.

And I couldn’t stop myself from remembering all the fantasies I had about this man, Cristina’s “words of wisdom”, and that Meredith and Cristina had both married their attendings.

Maybe, just maybe, the mention relationship I have with the great Doctor Stephen Strange would evolve into one of sex or romance.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when Doctor Strange guided me into a scan room and put up a scan of a large spinal column tumor.

“Normally, we aren’t supposed to let residents in on such complicated surgeries so soon. But I need an assistant.” Doctor Strange smiled at me, placing his hands on his hips. “What do you say?”

He just keeps surprising me, and I’ve been with him for under an hour!

“Shouldn’t you get someone who’s more qualified than me? Another Neuro attending?” I asked quietly, keeping my eyes fixed on the tumor.

My brain had already begun developing theories on the best way to approach the tumor, without damaging the spinal cord it was resting against.

“You’re more qualified than the other Neuro surgeon in this hospital. Trust me.”

I nodded.

“Nick told me that this tumor was impossible to remove. I think otherwise, and I’m not one for taking on cases I don’t think I can fix. After all, I don’t want to damage my perfect record.” Again, I could hear the arrogance behind his words, but I was used to it from Mark Sloan. “And I can tell by the way you’re looking at it, that you agree with me.”

We spent the next few hours discussing tactics on how to approach the tumor, only ending the session because Doctor Strange wanted lunch.

He invited me to sit with him during lunch and we discussed a range of topics over the short break. One of which being my name.

“Montgomery-Shepherd is a mouthful. Can I call you by just one of those? Or your first name?” He asked in, what I can figure, the nicest way he could.

“Shepherd works for me. Or Jennifer. Or Jen.” I shrugged.

Doctor Strange smiled and nodded.

“Welcome to Metro-General’s Neurosurgery, Doctor Jennifer Shepherd.”

He extended his hand to me, which I took.

“Thank you, Doctor Strange.”


Part 2?????

The Cue Cards, and Clara's Narrative Shaping

It occurs to me that the cue cards are really indicative of Clara’s need for control and how her desire for a perfect narrative and an epic story didn’t go away after Danny’s death.

The Doctor is terrible at conforming to basic social niceties (or at least he pretends he is—which is a meta all by itself), but he’s really very good at reassurance, comfort, and inspiration. From “Brave heart, Tegan,” from Five to Ten’s “I am so, so sorry” catchphrase to Eleven’s big Pandorica speech and Twelve’s frankly terrifying psychological deconstruction of the Half-Face Man, the Doctor in any incarnation is very much a people person. One of the main reasons he is considered so dangerous is his charismatic ability to persuade, terrorize, or encourage, as Osgood points out in “The Zygon Inversion.”

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Heart Rx

Hah, I didn’t even remember that Gajevy week was going on until now! But I guess this works for that too lol

commission for @lanaya-lavellan for sick!levy

rating: k+ for swearing 

paring: gajevy

characters: gajeel, levy, mention of lucy and unnamed nurse

prompt:  Person A is a doctor and Person B is their patient for one reason or another. Person B really really likes Person A, but Person A is oblivious to this. Person A does a physical examination, and they worriedly inform Person B that their heart rate/breathing rate is unusually high. Person B tries to think up of some lame excuse for that

tags: @spikerr, @fuckyeahgajevy

Levy pounded on her chest as she sat in the doctor’s office, letting out a cough that put her whole body in pain. She had been like this for a week, and hoped that it would let up soon. Levy was determined to tough it out because she hated going to the doctor, and she wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for her best friend’s coaxing to go. Levy blew her nose and placed the used tissue in the pile next to her and began to flip through a magazine.

After what felt like an hour later, the nurse called. “Levy McGarden?”

Levy stood, wiping her runny nose and coughing into her elbow. “Hi,” she said, walking over to the nurse. The woman nodded with a smile and led her to the height and weight room. Levy was the same weight and height she was last time, and that meant another while of being teased for her height. With a sigh, she was once again led to another room where the nurse asked her what felt like a million questions.

“Are you sexually active?” the nurse questioned, and Levy had to wonder if this had anything to do with a cold.

“N-No!” she practically shouted, which sent her into another fit of coughing, followed by a sigh when she finished.

“Alright,” the nurse said, typing a few things into her chart. Then she rose. “Doctor Redfox will see you in a moment.”

As she left, Levy giggled at the last name. Redfox. It must be some old guy with a long beard or an Irish guy. Finally her giggles died down when she had to blow her nose again, and Levy sat for a few moments before popping open a magazine. She read about her zodiac for the month before hearing a door open.

“Levy?” a deep voice asked, and Levy lowered her magazine to just about drop it.

She had surely never seen a doctor with piercings before.

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crazyseasons  asked:

Hello WayfaringMD! If you had a patient who was paralyzed from the neck down and asks for euthanasia, what would you do?

Euthanasia and doctor-assisted suicide are illegal in my state (and most others). That would be a no from me. 

*Edit: even if it wasn’t illegal in my state, I would still say no. 

Something something Leodle

(It barely counts)


“Would you stop fidgeting with your phone?”

Leorio jumped slightly, Cheadle staring at him from the far end of the room.

It was well over a hundred degrees, but Cheadle still looked pressed, clean cut, and orderly.

Leorio on the other had to comb his sweaty mop of hair out of his eyes every three seconds.

The man had long ago given up on keeping his suit jacket on and clean, settling for his button up and slacks.

And there was Cheadle, barely breaking a sweat while she was still packed into her full suit and tie.

The Iceberian desert was not aptly named.

“How are you not burning up in that?” Leorio asked, slathering a damp handkerchief across his face.

Cheadle clapped the book in her lap closed.

“You wouldn’t understand it if I told you.”

Leorio rolled his eyes.

“Try me.”

His research partner had a terrible penchant for being condescending as all hell.

The very same partner was now up and out her chair, walking slowly towards him.

She leaned down, resting her book on the table next to Leorio and leaning towards the man’s face.

Leorio blushed in their closeness.

Cheadle grabbed Leorio’s chin, turning his head stiffly but gently to the side so that his ear was facing her.

“Professionalism.” She whispered.

Leorio shrieked.

Accidental Ch 5

Here it is at last! I wish I was a consistent writer but that just ain’t what ya signed up for when you read chapter one. This is a pretty heavy chapter, trigger warnings listed below. Your mental health is more important than my fic!!!

tw for: dissociation, flashbacks, intrusive thoughts, implied/referenced eating disorder, implied/refernced emotional abuse

“Yeah, mom. Ok. Bye.”

Evan hung up, taking a deep breath in and exhaling loudly. Just like he was supposed to. He’d just gotten out of therapy, and even though it had been a week since Evan had met Connor, he’d artfully managed to avoid the topic of his mental breakdown and new friend for the whole session. He’d also managed not to cry, but that wasn’t going to keep up for long. Evan’s mom was working a late shift before class, and wasn’t going to be able to pick him up.

And to Evan, that meant only one thing:

He had to make a phone call.

Balling up his fists to keep them still, - freak, just stand still, you’re not normal, that’s what they always told you, you’re not- Evan quickly sat down on the curb in the deserted parking lot and pondered what to do.

You could go ask your therapist, part of his brain nagged, the part that had the rational thoughts normal people would have - you’re not normal, freak, what did Connor say to you, he’s not the freak, you’re the fu-. It was like that part of his brain wanted him to have an anxiety attack. Evan allowed himself to blink, once, - normal people don’t have urges like that, you’re not - but refrained from moving anymore than that. He would do what his dad and all those doctors had told him, nod and say thank you… no, that was something else. When people helped him, he had to do that… what was it, what did he have to do, think, think, think!

Evan, take a deep breath.

Right. He could do that.

Evan, count to ten.

He knew his numbers.

Evan, make the phone call.

He swallowed.

Evan. Boys. Don’t. CRY!

As if his body was on autopilot, Evan pulled out his phone and dialed a number. He didn’t even know who he’d called. He tried to steady his voice as the phone dialed and rang, wondering who would pick up.

“Hello?” a familiar voice answered.

Evan’s breath caught in his throat.

“Oh!” Connor heard a garbled voice over the end of the phone. After a stretched pause, he heard more words just as he was about to hang up.

“Sorry, it’s just, I um, kind of need, a ride? I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to, or you’re busy, or anything like that, I know it’s late, it’s just my mom can’t come to get me and you were the first number I typed in, I wasn’t even thinking -”

“Dude,” Connor cut in, trying to make sense of his friend’s rapid-fire words, “Of course I can come get you. Where a-”

Connor caught himself, knowing that anymore speech would be hard for Evan. He related; phone calls were a bitch.

“I’m gonna send you a location request. Can you share your location with me?”

Connor heard a squeaking noise that sounded somewhat like a yes, and then the beep that meant the call had been terminated. Feeling slightly worried, Connor shouldered his bag and headed out to the car.

He wanted to reach Evan sooner rather than later. Why?

Because he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was running out of time.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Evan fell to the curb and put his head in his hands. He tensed his body, fighting the urge to move with all his willpower.

A loud ding! caused Evan to jump, slowly reaching to check his phone - it’s not going to hurt you, idiot, freak, you’re a fu- with his left hand and standing. Remembering what he’d told Connor, Evan clenched his jaw and accepted the location request.  Immediately, a text was sent.

ConnorM: on myw ay

Evan didn’t respond, sinking once more to the ground and shutting his eyes in an attempt to escape the bright lights and loud noises that were pressing into him on all sides. Breathing deeply and trying to slow his racing heart, Evan didn’t know how long he sat there before he cracked his eyes open and dimly registered a vaguely familiar blue car pulling into the parking lot. In a moment, he had managed to recognize it as Connor’s and had straightened himself up, attempting to look like he had purposefully sat on the ground rather than collapsing.

He took a deep breath.

It was one car ride.

He could hide this.

Connor pulled up.

Connor could tell from the moment he pulled up to the curb something wasn’t right; he could see it in Evan’s fidgeting hand and red-tinted face. But he didn’t mention anything.

He did, however, start the car along the road home, chasing the lingering sun in the sky.

Evan didn’t know where they were going. He was trying too hard not to puke. He found himself retreating into his mind. If he didn’t feel, he couldn’t hurt. He knew where he was, but he wasn’t there.

He knew where he was.

He knew where he was.

He knew…

He knew where he…

Where was he?

Connor’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel as he exercised much self control as he could muster to avoid going over the speed limit. He chanced a glance at Evan, who had crawled into the backseat when the car had first appeared. Connor was too tired from another sleepless night to notice the faraway look in his eyes and the stillness of his body, worse symptoms that a red face had been.

Get him home, Connor thought, training his eyes back towards the road.

No no no no nononono, Evan thought. He had felt this before. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t feel, he- he thought this was what he wanted but it never was, it wasn’t- it was- it-

Connor looked up once more when he heard small sounds coming from the backseat of the car. He gasped softly, narrowly avoiding panic himself, as the sight that met his eyes.

Evan’s body was rocking slightly as sharp breaths and whimpers came at irregular intervals.

“Shit” Connor muttered. It seemed to be becoming a regular occurrence to say that in Evan’s presence. He glanced out his window, looking for a place to pull over.

Evan heard his name, but it was distant, and soft. He wanted to hear it, to respond, but he couldn’t, everything was too muffled and it was like he was gagged, and blinded, he saw only through a haze of white, and it was too quiet, and far, it was too quie-

Hands grabbed his shoulders, and through the haze surrounding him he heard his name again, but clearer this time. He pulled open his eyes - had they been closed? - and was immediately blinded by sensory input. He screamed, but whether it was inside or outside of his thoughts he couldn’t tell. He squeezed his hands tighter over his ears and fell farther into his head.

Evan opened his eyes briefly and whimpered before constricting his hands over his ears and becoming even stiller than before. Connor just worked on pulling the smaller boy gently out of the car and onto a blue blanket he’d set under a tree in the pitch-dark park he had stopped at.

Once Connor had gotten Evan propped against the rough willow bark he pondered what to do. The boy was as still and quiet, and though his eyes were tightly shut, you could tell that if they were opened there would be a glaze over them. Then the muffled words started again.

Evan had been reaching, harder and harder, to get out of his mind. He remembered now, he was with Connor, and Connor needed to know he was okay. But breaking through the first wall of defenses meant he was open to attacks.

Images flooded Evan’s mind, of the things he tried to forget but never really did. It was his dad, drunk into a stupor and he was violent, but in a quiet way, because his violence was words and not knives, it was the whisperings of screw up from him and poor parents from everyone else.

It was his mom, crying quietly, and Evan running away.

It was the constant waiting rooms, the doctors confirming a diagnosis and his mom smiling for a split second and his dad screaming, asking for a cure to fix his broken kid.

It was a few simple words.

“Get it together.”

“I’m sorry-” Evan whispered.

Connor decided to go back to his first instincts. Cautiously, he put his arms around Evan and began rubbing his back and rocking slightly. It felt like their first meeting, except now it was dark and rain was coming down in heavy sheets and Connor was beginning to care about the kid he had cradled in his arms.

“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorr-” poured out of Evan’s mouth like a mantra at a mile a minute. Connor just continued to quietly shush him, gently wiping away rain mingled with tears with the pad of his thumb.

“Break out of it, Hansen,” he whispered.

Suddenly, Evan heard five words with clarity.

“Break out of it, Hansen.”

He shot up and out of his mind and looked around for a few seconds before immediately leaning over and dry heaving- there wasn’t anything in his stomach in the first place, seeing as he couldn’t even remember the last time he had eaten.

Connor looked down at the smaller boy with a start.

“Stupid question, but are you okay?”

Evan knew he couldn’t lie anymore. He obviously wasn’t okay.

“Panic attack, followed by dissociation, ending in flashbacks. How was your night?” Evan tried to sound funny, but his voice came out scratchy and wavering.

Connor swallowed thickly.

“Can I hug you?” he said, dropping his walls for a split-second.

Evan nodded, not trusting his voice. Connor pulled him gently into a hug, and the tears Evan had been doing his best to hold in came pouring out onto the chest of Connor’s gray hoodie.

“Evan, bud- Evan. W-who did this to you?” Connor muttered, his words muffled in Evan’s hair.

“I guess… I need to start from the beginning.”

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Falling Sick (Chocobros)

How the boys deal with being sick. Hope you enjoy anon! :)

Dramatic and whiny. It could just be a runny nose, but he’ll start panicking and insist that he needs to be hospitalised, lest his condition worsen. Being that he isn’t very assertive, anyone willing to give him a firm “No.” is all it takes for him to settle into his bed and stay there. But that doesn’t mean he thinks his condition “is stable”; far from it. Anyone tending to him will be badgered constantly. He’ll urge them to look up his symptoms to “confirm for themselves” that his life is in danger. And again, the first person to give him a very firm “No.” is the only guaranteed method to get him to stop. And, God help whoever takes on the task of medicines. He’ll flail about, and start gagging at the thought of having them. I’d imagine Ignis typically handles this, being the only one with the patience for it. It’d be funny to see Noctis taking his medicine reluctantly, because Ignis told him: “What do you think the doctors would do?”

Since he’s had to depend on himself since childhood, he’s pretty self sufficient. Even when sick. He doesn’t dismiss any help, but he doesn’t expect to be looked after either. If the bug he catches spreads over time, he’ll go to a doctor before he’s too sick. But if it hits him like a hard smack, he might ask Ignis to arrange for a doctor to visit him. And if he doesn’t feel like imposing, he’ll just spend the day in bed, and hope he has something light in the fridge. Again, being pretty independent from childhood, he’s learned which medicines to take for what, and which ones to keep around the house as a rule of thumb. He’s no fan of medicines, but he does manage to grit his teeth and do it. He’s a pretty silent sufferer so people might not even know he’s sick, unless he tells them. Which is why Noctis has these periods where he panics severely because his best friend seems to have fallen off the face of the Earth.

He soldiers on. Being the sort who takes his work seriously, he wouldn’t want to take a break unless the situation is so severe he has no choice but to. So, unless he’s really out of it, he’d still show up to work while trying not to make his health apparent. Though if someone he trusted were to offer to take care of things for him till he’s better; he’d agree to it without second thoughts. Being the responsible type, he’s well versed in how to care for himself. Looking after Noctis has only given him more experience in the matter. He has his doctor’s number on speed dial because, one never knows when it’ll be handy. Even if he can’t actually schedule an appointment, he can still consult his doctor to confirm the effectiveness of what he knows. He also doesn’t like to “just rest”, he finds it boring as compared to the otherwise fast pace of his life. He likes keeping busy in some way or the other. So he’ll likely read something, or watch something. If he isn’t that sick, he might test out some new recipes. 

Stubborn and partially in denial. He absolutely hates falling sick, to the point he tends to not admit it to himself. When younger, Iris would love to throw it in his face when he fell sick. Though now that she’s older, she doesn’t want to risk the fury that accompanies the words “You’re sick.” it just isn’t worth it anymore. Ignis learned the hard way as well. Being the caring, nurturing type; seeing Gladio not feeling well instantly brings out his doting side. Telling Gladio which medicines to take or offering to go see a doctor together. The response is a fiery glare. With Gladio’s words seething with rage. “You don’t need a doctor when you aren’t sick.” The unnecessary seriousness convinced Ignis to steer clear of Gladio when he’s sick. When it does so happen that Gladio is too sick to ignore it and he painfully accepts it. A sneaky visit to the doctor is made. And while he’s grateful for the relief that medicines bring, he’s still incapable of accepting that he can fall sick.

,,, i mean,,, what do i even caption this with?? my good ol’ buddy mycroft atrocity holmes jr?? why