#where the doctor says he makes a great curry

[whatsfourteenupto]

The thing is, the Doctor is a pretty good cook across the board (Not 13. They’re not sure why it skipped that regeneration but 13 was only allowed in the kitchen with strict supervision). The issue is that if they start cooking one thing, they keep “might as well”-ing until they’re working on six recipes at once, all four burners are going, every dish in Donna’s kitchen is now dirty, and tomorrow’s breakfast is cooking next to tonight’s dinner “because it’ll save time in the morning!” Yes, the carbonada recipe they got from that lovely old man in Argentina is delicious, but dinner is interrupted by the bread they forgot they left in the oven.

[bigassmoth]

Gifts for various tokyo debunker guys (Vagastrom, Jabberwock, Mortkranken) SFW

Alan: a simple bluefin tuna patch that you ironed and sewed onto his fishing bag. You did it as a prank, coordinating with Leo to snatch the bag while Alan was preoccupied. You both figured he would be confused and question who touched his belongings but ultimately let out his usual defeated sigh before letting it be. But the captain really loved his little fish, making no comment on it's sudden appearance. He always was positioned it to "see" the water while Alan fished. He wants to name it but he's bad with names. Your little joke turned out to be a great source of comfort for Alan, who is very grateful to have a fishing buddy.

Leo: very normal looking non-trending curry from a small mom and pop shop- so spicy even Leo needs milk. At first he was laughing at you for getting him such a cheap gift- don't you know that people send him waaaayyy more during his streams? Whatever, your try-hard NPCness was entertaining enough for the moment. But after getting half-way through, with his eyes red, Leo begrudgingly asks you for the shop location. The cute elderly couple has a new loyal customer. Too bad Leo keeps trying to get you to eat the toxic stuff, though.

Sho: keychain that looks like his motorcycle, where you hand-painted "Bonnie" onto the license plate. He uses it for his foodtruck keys. Typically he avoids such uncool accessories but the little charm has stolen his heart. One day he gets too rough with his lanyard and one of the rear-view mirrors breaks off. Spends the next two hours panicking while he glues it back on. Begins his project to reinforce the motorcycle through pins and resin. Leo says "just buy a new one" to which Sho grumbles, "It would be a pain in the ass to have to paint on 'Bonnie'"

---

Haru: annual membership to a tractor/pet supply store that carries materials and food for exotic and farm animals. Practical gift for a practical guy, he is beside himself in gratitude. The deals he gets as a member would theoretically slow his spending but we know how this guy manages him money- "I got a 20 pack of 50lbs of Horse Electrolytes for only 300,000 yen! Perfect for when we get horse anomalies :) and I also got the stuff I went there for, too." He is so happy you can't bring yourself to scold him for being such a sucker.

Towa: lavender and rose simple syrups which Haru adds to Towa's drinks- otherwise Towa drinks it straight. The guy doesn't need any more energy than he already has so it's usually mixed into a steamer or lemonade. Towa goes through the two big bottles you made within a week- and comes begging you for more (while you are in class). He would love to watch you make them, humming on your counter. After seeing the full process he savors them a bit more- and also starts bringing you mystery plants to make into syrup. Don't use the wolfsbane though, he plans on spiking Ren's energy drinks with that.

Ren: steam giftcard. He is ecstatic,he nearly cries before catching himself. He grumbles out a stiff "thanks" and pockets it. Of course he thinks VERY hard about what to spend it on- he has so many games afterall. He ends up purchasing a limited edition charity pack- one for ocean conservation. It comes with a squid character skin which he never uses but looks at often. He will brag about this cosmetic pack often while carrying you through the levels.

---

Yuri: "worlds best doctor" mug, he scoffs and says that you are passe and unprofessional. It is his favorite mug, he only wants tea in this mug. Sometimes he just looks at it all smugly and polishes it. When Jiro wants to cheer him up, he makes Yuri a cup of tea and makes sure to hand him the mug with the campy "World's Best Dr!" print on display. It always cheers him up a little.

Juri: traditional japanese tea set, at first he is confused. The beaker works perfectly fine, why does he need this fancy and cumbersome set-up? But it is nostalgic and he finds himself handling it perfectly. Yuri complains as the tea now takes longer to prepare- especially since Juri found a mysterious tea-pet on his windowsill and now gives the pet two washes for every pot.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

🔪 for Chris!

🔪 Awake surgery

CW: Referenced hand whump, blood, sadism, reluctant whumper, facility whump, BBU

"You have got to be joking." The doctor dried his hands off on the single-use towel he held, watching through the one-way window as the trainee inside sat, shaking his head at a nurse who was speaking to him in a low voice. He shook it less like he was saying no and more like he was simply denying that she was speaking at all. "Him again? What the fuck is Petrus doing to this kid? It's only been, what, four days since I got him out of the clinic in the first place!"

"I mean, you know what he does to him, he's one of the little sluts." The handler rolls his eyes. "Petrus fucks him stupid, not that any of them have brains to begin with. But this time 223499 dropped a glass during his Mixology class. Can't pin it this one on Petrus, it's all on 499 being a little bitch again. His Mixology instructor says he's a clumsy little shit."

"Great. Okay." Dr. Ross has a headache already. He hates this place, hates the crude, aggressive handlers and the way they talk about - and to - the trainees. He hates sewing the injured trainees up only to see them again, with new wounds needing dressed and new terror in their eyes. He hates everything about this job except the paycheck.

He can't wait to get another job and get the hell out of here.

The Facility gets to him - it works its way down under his skin, seeing the haunted, nervous way the trainees looked around all the time, trying to guess where pain would come from next. Trying to curry favor, to avoid the torture constantly forced on them anyway. He's been seeing their frightened faces and hearing them beg in his dreams far too often. "So he's here because..."

"It's a deep cut." The handler shrugs. "He needs stitches."

Dr. Ross looks back at the trainee. 223499 is holding perfectly still while the nurse turns his hand over. His palm is a mess of blood, darker than the new-penny shine of his hair. The trainee's stained fingers twitch nervously.

He's just a kid.

The same kid who'd automatically gone to his knees just a week ago, ready to do whatever he was commanded to, thoughtless obedience making the doctor's stomach turn.

He has to get out of here.

Dr. Ross swallows, feeling like there's a lump in his throat he just can't quite get rid of it. "Fine. I'll prep something to numb his hand, we'll give him a little bit of-"

"Nah." The handler shrugs, looking bored. "His primary's got a note on his file, didn't you see it? No painkillers for three weeks. Not even topical."

Dr. Ross watches 223499 flinch away from the nurse, who slaps him, making him cry out. The sound is muffled through the one-way window. As is the apology the boy provides immediately, stammering through it, only to be slapped again. This time, he doesn't cry out. He only cringes back, hunching into himself, and keeps his eyes down.

It makes Dr. Ross feel sick.

"... fine," He says, realizing the silence is drawing out too long. "I'll get him sewn up. He can go back to his room once it's done. Tell Petrus to leave him alone for one night, at least?"

The handler snorts with dry humor. "Yeah, good luck on that. But I'll tell him you said so. You want me to help you strap him down?"

Dr. Ross doesn't let himself look at the trainee again. "Yeah. Come in and strap him down while I prep."

"You got it, Doc." The handler gives him a lazy salute.

The kid doesn't fight being strapped down, but it doesn't matter. Once the work begins, the kid's back arches, he screams and thrashes wordlessly, then... even worse, he makes noises after like he's dying, low moaning sounds that seem barely human. He's shuddering, whispering apologies when all he'd done was drop a glass and try to clean it up too fast.

Dr. Ross goes home that night with the trainee's screaming in his ears. He hears the sounds the kid makes once the needle goes into his skin all weekend in his nightmares.

On Monday, he emails his resignation, effective immediately.

He's smart enough to have a one-way ticket booked for a country WRU isn't operating in before anyone reads it.

[nowoyas]

koi no yokan 23: come home (nishinoya yuu/reader)

First - Prev - Next - M.list - Ao3

A/N: woe! surprise celebratory "author went to the doctor today and does NOT have cancer and is getting treated for pmdd" update be upon ye!

Summary: You come home from the training camp and have a long-overdue conversation with your father.

Warnings and tags: family drama, subtle homophobia, depictions of a panic attack, discussion of death of a family member

Words: 3300+

That night, having taken a quiet walk back from the school with Noya, you linger on your porch with a lump in your throat. It takes an embarrassing amount of time to open it, an embarrassing amount of time to confront him. You half wonder if Noya's watching you stand there like a coward from his house.

He'd tell you to steel yourself and get it over with.

You jerk the door open without a second thought.

Inside, your father sits on the couch. He looks up from the book on his lap at your intrusion, and you, hopeful, mumble I'm home once the staring contest starts getting boring.

"Welcome back," he says. "Have you eaten?"

"I had a slice of pizza at the rest stop, but that was a few hours ago." Your eyes scan the room—blinds opened, TV on low. Fresh fruit out for Mom—the ones you'd left behind were at risk of turning when you left a week ago—and no trash overflowing from where you can see the can in the kitchen. "I can maybe throw something together. I have some curry in the freezer, so—"

"Let's eat together," he says. "You used to love that donburi place³⁸ nearby, right? We'll go."

The thought of inevitably blowing up at him in the middle of the restaurant makes you feel sick. "Can we do takeout? I'm really tired and don't think I can handle eating in public right now. You know. Because of the concussion."

He blinks. "Sure. We'll do takeout. Do you want to go together to get it, or…"

"Maybe you could pick it up and I can stay back and recover from the bus ride? I've gotta unpack from the week and everything."

"Right. That sounds good. Do you still like the karaage set?"

Oh. He actually remembered that. "Yeah. Thanks. I'm gonna, um… I'm gonna take a quick shower while you're out. I should be done around the time you get back."

"Sounds good. See you in thirty…?"

"Yeah. Don't forget your wallet."

He doesn't. You shower, wash the week off with water so hot that your skin is red-tinged and a little raw when you step out to towel off. You agonize a little over pajama choices—the decision between comfort for a night you're sure is going to blow up or wearing some clothes you don't care that much about so you don't form a negative association with your favorite pajama shorts—and by the time you're downstairs and tossing your laundry into the washer, your father is returning with a plastic bag of your collective dinner.

He sets it on the coffee table as you linger in the hallway. "Ready?"

You sit on the neighboring armchair, take your share of the food. "Thanks for the food."

He nods, takes his order in the same manner. You eat in silence for a bit—when your father can't take it, he turns up the TV to fill the air. When you can't, you resort to delicately balancing your food container on your lap and texting with your off hand. Noya's sent you an additional Soba for the night, perhaps in anticipation of the shit night you're going to have—it's a selfie, really, and he's wearing the same shirt he just walked you home in, bag still hooked on his arm as Soba appears to be headbutting him directly in the face.

Noya: someone missed me

Noya: if you want to come see her tonight, I'm sure she missed you too

You can't help but smile.

[name]: I've definitely missed her 

[name]: coast clear for now but I miss her more every second

"How's the phone treating you?" your dad asks tentatively. "Not due for an upgrade or anything, right?"

You shake your head. "It's great. Uh, thanks."

"If you wanted a newer model—"

"It wouldn't fix anything," you interrupt sharply. "If that's what you're trying to do."

He flinches. "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to buy your forgiveness."

You don't answer. The pair of you are left in the same silence as before.

This… doesn't feel any better than eating alone, truthfully. Or maybe you just got used to being alone, and now it feels weird to not be. You don't even know what he wants from you here. Did he think he could just come home and everything be normal? Did he think a fucking meal set was going to undo the past two years of loneliness?

"How was the training camp?"

"It was good. The guys were working really hard, and all the new stuff they've been working on feels like it's finally starting to come together just in time. We've got prelims the day after tomorrow, and I think the bracket's already out and I don't think any of the schools they're up against are any of the particularly strong ones in the prefecture, so they'll have a little more time between the initial qualifiers and the later part of the tournament, if they can just make everything work, and—" You slam your mouth shut. "—sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, no, I'm glad you seem to like it."

"When's my birthday, Otoo-san?" you ask suddenly.

"What?"

"My birthday. When is it."

"July seventh," he says. "Did you think I forgot?"

"I mean, I spent the day alone and the only present I got was a cat picture from my friend, who didn't know why I was asking for one, so…" You shrug.

He blinks slowly. "Isn't it… coming up?"

"You just said the right date. What do you mean, is it coming up?"

He suddenly goes pale. "What month is it?"

Holy shit. He actually doesn't know what month it is. "It's August, Otoo-san. My birthday was last month."

"Shit. [name], I'm—"

"Don't. I guess I already got my confirmation that you didn't do it on purpose. An apology is just going to piss me off."

He sets aside his dinner—mostly done—and pushes himself to stand. "Wait here. I'm heading out."

"Wait—"

"I'll be back in twenty—no, fifteen—minutes."

"But—"

He's out the door before he lets you get a protest out.

~

Hiro nearly trips three times on the way back from the convenience store. He's as careful as he can be while still being quick, careful not to drop his purchase. The cashier—an older woman—had looked at him like he was slightly insane for his urgency, then she'd looked at him with pity when he'd asked about candles.

Back at the house, he half expects you to have left or to have gone upstairs. He'd told you to wait there, but…

Well, you're in the same spot. That's about all the positive things he can say.

You're also knees to chest and hyperventilating, and that's not really what he was expecting to see when he returned.

He sets down the bag on the coffee table, amid the discarded plates and bowls and cups, and rushes to crouch in front of you, hip jolting the table when he drops to his knees. "What happened, what's wrong?"

You don't respond; you're too busy gasping for air, eyes somewhere far away and tears slipping down your cheeks. It's like you don't even notice that he's there.

"[name]," he says sharply.

Nothing. Your hands are clawing at your upper arms desperately for something, nails digging in. When he sees the red lines you're leaving behind, he reaches out and grabs your wrists firmly.

You seem to notice him at last, thrashing back with a wordless yell.

"[name], listen to me—"

"Don't—don't—don't—"

He clocks the fear on your face and it gives him pause. "Okay. I'm going to let you go, but I need you to stop clawing at yourself. Okay?"

You still. He tentatively lets your wrists go, and you wrap your arms around your knees, rocking in the armchair. He can't have been gone that long, but you look like you've just watched someone die. (He'd know. He's seen that face before, in nightmares.)

"Will you tell me what happened?"

"You—" You try, a shrill breath in cutting you off. "You—you left—"

"I just ran to the store," he explains slowly. "It's a ten minute walk, but I ran so I wouldn't be gone long. What's wrong with that?"

"Okaa-san—" you try, cutting off in yet another gasp.

Oh. "Sweetheart…"

"—never came back—don't—don't just leave like that—"

"Okay. I'm sorry. I won't do that again."

It doesn't soothe you—you're stuck in that loop, eyes barely focused, muttering under your breath whenever you can catch it long enough. It's devastating to watch. Can't he do anything? Has this happened to you before? How many nights have you sat on the couch like this alone and just—hyperventilated until you passed out?

Holy shit. Fucking man up, Hiro. Take care of your daughter.

He stands. "I'm going into the other room for just a moment, okay? I'm going to get you a glass of water and some tissues. Are you okay with that?"

You offer the faintest nod, and he sweeps out of the room. He doesn't know where you've been keeping the tissues, if you've been keeping any, so he grabs a roll of paper towels from the kitchen and returns with a glass of water. He hands you a balled up paper towel, and you crush it in your fist.

"Is… is this the first time this has happened to you?" he asks.

"No." Your gasps are coming more slowly now, quieter. "Just—just let me ride it out."

"I'm not leaving," he says firmly.

"You don't have to stay."

"I'm staying."

You stare at him a moment, eyes widening just a bit.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Hiro starts, which is true. He's completely at a loss. He's never seen you like this, never seen anyone like this. This wasn't grief—you were panicked, somewhere else entirely.

"I can tell."

Harsh, but fair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

A shrug. "Dunno what to say."

"Come on. You can't just not talk about that."

You dab at your eyes harshly before you speak. "Okaa-san and I got into a fight. The day she died. She went out for a walk so we could both calm down."

Hiro's jaw clenches. He's never heard this part of the story—at the time, you'd been too shell-shocked to say anything, and if he remembers, you didn't talk for days after. He'd had to hear from a neighbor—now moved away—that you'd seen Tomoko get hit and screamed, that the two of you were in front of the house. He hadn't had the heart to question it further—what more was there to know, except his wife was dead?

If he'd known, would he have been angry? Right now, all he can feel is his heart shattering. The only sound he can make is your name, broken and disbelieving.

"I came out to wait for her so I could apologize." Your tone has slipped from the teary panic of before to something detached and far away. The shift scares him more than he'd like to admit. "And then she died. And then we were—whatever happened, and you left, and—and every time you're out late, which is every day, I can't sleep until you're home. Even though you don't love me anymore."

He jolts, eyes widening. "[name], no, I never stopped loving you. Please believe me."

"I don't." You turn away from him, cheek resting on your knees. "I've been alone for two years. At first I thought you just needed time—I mean, Okaa-san just died, of course you were upset—but…"

He sighs. Lets his head thunk against the side of the armchair. He shifts his body around to sit with his back against it so that he can see the altar from here. "I had a bet with your mother on who would outlive who. She insisted I'd live longer, and of course I thought I'd be the one to go first. Tomoko always had to be right, you know?"

"I was wondering who I got that from," you mumble.

"In hindsight, it was kind of messed up. The winner of the bet was the one who didn't have to live to see the results. I really, really wanted to win that one, but, well… I never liked the person I was without her, you know? When I met your mother, it was like I became real. And then we had you, and you scared the shit out of me. You're too smart. You get that from her, too. And then Tomoko was gone, and I didn't know who I was anymore. Still don't, honestly. I throw myself into work. I lose track of time. I let my emotions drown me. I remember my daughter's birthday is July seventh but I don't remember when July seventh is. She was always the one to remind me—not her birthday is July seventh but that means her birthday is next week. I couldn't make the connections like that."

"So when Okaa-san died, you…"

He nods. "Completely gutted. I lost my sense of time, my self control. And the longer I threw myself into working and drinking just to feel almost okay for a second, the worse it felt."

"…that doesn't give the past two years back."

"Please believe me. Please. I stayed alive because of you."

"Can you come home because of me, too?"

He pauses for just a moment. "I'll work on it. I'm sorry. You're right that it won't give you the years back, but you don't deserve to be alone anymore."

"I'm not, really. Alone, I mean. But I want my dad back."

He won't promise you. He can't—not with the promise of a promotion at work, of new executive duties, of more nights where he actually has to drink with coworkers and higher-ups for the sake of his career. Not with how integral he's become to the company.

Instead, he says: "I'll do the best I can to be here. We'll work something out."

You don't look at him, but you seem to understand without him saying. That's good.

A long moment of silence. The TV was turned off long ago—you must have done it before you broke down—so between the two of you, there's just your collective breaths, your errant sniffles. He can't take it.

"Do you… want a distraction…?"

A shrug.

He turns the TV back on, flips through until he settles on a rerun of some volleyball match or another. He barely knows enough to recognize that it's volleyball on the screen, but based on the whole club thing, it's a safe bet that you'd enjoy it.

You huff when you realize what he's put on, a cool seven minutes later. "Do you have any idea what you're even watching?"

"Uh." He coughs. "Thailand is, uh… winning? They have more points than China."³⁹

"They're in the lead for this set, but it looks like China took the first set, so they're technically winning right now."

"Why don't you tell me more, and I'll cut us some cake?"

You tilt your head. "Cake?"

"Yeah. I went out to get your birthday cake. It's, uh, late, but…"

A weak smile meets your lips. It's something. "I didn't expect you to do that."

"It's the least I can do. Should have done it a month ago."

"It's alright," you say as he cuts a slice for you. "I'm glad you're here now."

You curl up in the armchair with your plate and a fork—less "fetal position" and more "comfortable lounge". That's something. Hiro relocates to the couch to watch.

"So, uh… what exactly is happening here?"

"Okay, so, the short version is, they're playing don't let the ball touch the floor but with teams. Ball touches floor on the other guy's side of the net, and you get a point, so you have to try to keep the ball from hitting the floor on your side while also trying to force it to happen on their side." The more you talk, the lighter you seem to be. It's good progress.

He nods along. "I see. Why's one of them got a different jersey color?"

"Oh! That's the libero. You see how there's women on the team who are hitting the ball and others that are jumping up to stop them? The libero's entire job is to stand back and get the ball up before it hits the floor if it gets past those blockers. The way it was explained to me is that there's a whole bunch of extra rules that apply to the libero—she can't block or attack, for example, and she goes on and off the court using different rules than the other players do, so the refs need to be able to spot her easier."

All your explanations are like this—concise, easy to understand. You talk quickly, with a smile, interspersing basic explanations between bites of cake and pointing out what's going on onscreen.

He's struck, suddenly, by how much you've grown in the past two years. He'd thought it before—the cold way you looked at him when he interrupted you with that delinquent, the ice in every response, the fact that you were fooling around with some boy when you thought you were alone. You look more like your mother, ramble less, get to the point more, and yet, like this, he recognizes you.

"You really like volleyball, huh?"

You freeze. Turn away to hide your face. "I… y-yeah, I guess."

He laughs, turning back to the screen. "I'm glad you're managing instead of playing, at any rate. Half these women look like they like men."

You laugh. He can tell you're still recovering from the panic from earlier. "Right. Yeah."

~

Shimizu to Karasuno Managers!!! at 12:52

Shimizu: [name]-chan, how are you feeling? Nishinoya said you were taking the day but didn't explain further

Shimizu: if you need anything, please don't hesitate to let us know

[name]: sorry lol

Shimizu: will you be alright for tomorrow? We leave for prelims at 7

~

Shimizu to Karasuno Managers!!! at 15:34

Shimizu: [name]-chan?

Footnotes

38. While researching good takeout places for this chapter, I came across a magnificent discovery. Behold, [name]'s childhood favorite restaurant: Yoshinoya. It's written entirely differently than Nishinoya, but the phonetic similarities were simply too good to pass up. And they have over thirty locations in Miyagi! I've been salivating over the Karaage set for like fifteen minutes since discovering it. I just had karaage for the first time the weekend before last when I visited friends and it sort of got overshadowed by the rest of the meat (there was filet mignon involved because yakiniku in America is like embarrassingly high-end) but it was SO GOOD. I made the right choice in making it one of Reader's favorite foods fr.

39. They're watching reruns of the FIVB Volleyball World Grand Prix. I don't actually know whether this aired internationally or on normal TV or any of that, but the archives are on Volleyball World. The match in particular was a fun watch. I wanted to have them watch a match with the Japan women's team because that would make more sense to air on TV in Japan if a women's volleyball match is gonna be on TV, but I couldn't find playbacks of it and it felt important to actually watch the mentioned match if I was going to have it be a real one. The match in question took place about two months before this—Thailand won this match 3-2. Originally, it was going to be described more heavily, but I ended up not focusing on it as much as having it be set dressing.

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @kazunish

[thatdehydratedmedic]

A new beginning

It's September. After many rough winds, the dust has settled. June, July and August brought with them uncertainty, but here I am now. I am now in Malaysia. There's only a few days left before registration. Although I'm scared, I'm also relieved. So much has been done and I am one step closer to my goal.

During my first week here, my dad stayed with me in Malaysia at a separate hotel. He helped shop for necessities and I helped him pick out gifts for the rest of our family. It was quite the hassle. I remember people telling me that moving to Malaysia would be easy because everyone speaks English. I've found this to be a lie. Most people, in fact, do not speak English. In this era though, it is not a boundary we cannot cross. Google translate came in handy. I remember hosting a Japanese kid at out place before. This was ages ago, before the age of Google Translate. She could not speak English and relied on a tablet-sized device for her translations. It was not easy.

The most difficult part so far has been adjusting to how quiet the place is in general. Since I'm staying at a 2 room apartment and my roommate has still not moved in, its so so so quiet. It gives me the creeps. That's why I've come downstairs to the lobby to write. There is absolutely no way I could stay in my room any longer before I go insane.

I also find that the food here is very different. With all due respect to Malaysian culture, I have found that the food is pretty oily and the taste profile is worlds apart from what I'm used to. There is a sharp, almost citrus-y note in almost everything. Although I imagine someone else might enjoy it, I can't say I do. I miss the plain rice, garudhiya and curry. Even more than that, I miss the mas'huni and roshi.

I've written a lot about how things have been in Malaysia. But I also want to talk about how work was back in Maldives. I met so many patients who made me want to keep pursuing medicine. While there were definitely instances where patients behaved aggressively towards me, I can't blame them or even bring myself to be upset at them. Their pain and frustration was the result of a bigger issue with the healthcare industry as whole. Moments of helplessness gave me increased motivation.

Of course there was also the times where I could be helpful. Moments like these were much more common and naturally, I remember them a lot more fondly. My favorite interaction with a patient was when they requested me to translate for them on their second visit after being satisfied with my service on their first. They had come back after about 4 months. When they first took my name on a small piece of paper I did not think much of it, but I realized how much I had impacted them when they asked for me after so many months. It was a greater joy to see that they were doing much better than before.

During my time working, I met many great doctors as well. Among them, some more than others. In this regard the neurosurgeon was exceptional. He was an example of kindness, patience and diligence. I had gone into work thinking I would like to become a doctor who did not have to spend so much time in the hospital. I thought I would prefer to be someone with a good work-llife balance. After working with the said doctor though, I changed my mind. I believed I would much prefer the busy life.

That's all I have to say for now. That and that I cannot wait for uni to start. I am so excited to make anki cards and revise them. Watch me take those words back when school actually begins. I also need to note I am no longer sleep deprived. I am still dehydrated though, perhaps more than before. See you next time!

[gg-carboxylase]

Got ahold of Step by Step episode 12. We needed 2 more episodes as usual with these series.

If you've not watched the show, please do. It's worth your time, even if you feel like you're wading thru the first few episodes. It's slow burn. This is not horny hours. This is really office hours.

Spoilers under the cut obvs.

Some meta. Mostly my opinions.

I wrote that paragraph before the Mildly Spicy Bed Makeout. I kind of enjoy that Jeng shooed Pat to the shower For Reasons. At least, I personally infer bottom reasons but that's just me. Still, I would have liked more spice à la Bed Friend, but I'm a thirsty ho.

I'll get this admission off my chest — I'm bummed that we got those really spicy kisses and that's as far as it went. KP and Domundi productions spoiled me, obviously. Did I want to see them fake fuck? Yeah. I'll admit it.

The scene where they were writing out then deleting their text messages was acted to perfection.

Hot take — Ben is the worst ugly crier. We love him anyway.

Jeng is a stalker, he needs to learn to go less hard. He also needed to resign like, 2 years earlier from the company. Good for him though. Dad is hot. Shame he's a homophobe.

I am super over people singing in the shows, no matter how good they are.

I love that Jeng's passion is cooking.

You can tell this is a real Thai show because when they show that green curry, it's real green curry even if it's store bought. It's hard to find good green curry paste over here unless you're in certain places.

Jeng's mom — what was the point of a 30 second meeting. Ben is so good at being nervous and young, he's really a great actor.

The chemistry is off the charts in this episode, good Christ. They obviously had fun shooting the cake scene.

Jeng better have a hell of a savings if he's returning all his shares to his dad and putting his hopes on his restaurant.

The restaurant biz is a bitch. I grew up in the restaurant business and the margins are razor thin, even in famous and successful restaurants. Hopefully, Pat's advertising firm is doing well.

Seriously, again. Needed another couple episodes. Especially with how Jeng's dad tossed his resignation letter.

I know Man said this would be his only BL, but I would really like to see them do another show together. They really got their shit together at the end and it's rare to see a couple that can have this kind of chemistry.

The age difference works really well between them, it's comfortable — which isn't there for a lot of decade+ couples — and there's a lot of plots where this could be used. So let's manifest that.

I have no idea what the fuck Man does for a living, so I'm not sure if he's even free to do another series. Dude has an econ degree, which means nothing (no offense econ folks, you guys are like Swiss army knives). I suspect he's a mini Mile Phakphum, and just sort of exists on the largess of his family and his modeling career.

I very much liked this series. It's definitely in my list of favorites. For me, it started out rocky because I didn't understand what it was trying to do. Looking back, now that I see what the aim is, the path it took is perfect.

Would I have liked more sex? Absolutely, but as I mentioned before — I'm a thirsty ho. These lads get paid more than I make as a clinical lab scientist, spending my day making your doctor look smart. A little bed shenanigans isn't too much to ask.

Alas, I can't complain too much. The kisses we got were A+, top-tier compared to nearly any other series. The physical stuff we did get was also A+. Truly, my complaints are mostly unfounded. We could have ended up with Korean level bullshit.

I'm not going to bother with meta about the story because there's users here that are far better at articulating exactly what I want to say, so troll the tag for them.