#OPHTHALMOLOGIST??? ARE YOU KIDDING ME??

[gegewrites]

Dr.house- 2 am(smut)

Time wise takes place in season 1, I don't think my timelines exactly right but I can't find exact dates since they're lot really specified.

I’m on a Fuckin role!

4.2k words!!! Not at all edited I just finished this and posted it

5/22/23

Your pov-

It's not every night you get a call from Greg House  to come to his apartment at 2 in the morning...but here I was standing in the entrance room of apartment 221 about to knock on the door to apartment B.

I've been to his house before, I've known the asshole for 11 years, I met him a year before his golfing incident.

I raised my hand and knocked on the door, loud enough for him to hear, quiet enough to not alert the neighbors. I waited for a few seconds of nothing and knocked again, a few seconds later it opened.

"Get in." He promptly spoke, turning around and immediately walking away.

I came in, shutting the door behind me. I kicked my slippers off as i gazed over at the piano, which was obviously being used a bit earlier by the open music and shuffled around music sheets on top. Last week it was tucked in the corner, now it's facing out into the room. One guitar was hung on the wall, the other on a floor stand.

On his coffee table was a half empty bottle of whiskey and a few scrambled folders.

"I was sleeping you know." I said as he came out of the kitchen with a mug. He was still in his work clothes, well the T-shirt and pants part of it, and Now I'm noticing the smell of coffee.

"Fully aware, sit." He plopped down onto the couch and leaned forward, resting his cane against the arm of the couch on his side.

I let out a sigh as I walked over, plopping down next to him. He handed me the red mug right away and I grabbed it.

"That's one hell of a tank top." He commented and I looked down at myself. It was white, and tight. I didn't get dressed alright, I threw on some plaid pj pants, grabbed a zip up hoodie, and threw on my slippers and left.

"Shut the fuck up Greg. I gotta be in the office at six." I took a sip from the mug,"this is fucking good."

"Good, so look at this." He handed me a whole file so I put the mug down on the table and leaned back with the folder.

"Anna Mae Johnson, 56, female..Hallucinating and loosing her vision." I looked up from the file and looked at him, leaned back in the corner of the couch holding a glass of whiskey. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. You were the only neurologist that picked up my call." He shrugged. I'm not just a neurologist, I'm also an ophthalmologist and general surgeon. I didn't let my scholarships at Stamford go to waste. "And, frankly I don't feel like spending another 3 hours with this women."

"Wilson didn't pick up?" I raised my brow.

"Oh no, he did. And he told me to fuck off." He half smiled for a second and i rolled my eyes.

"Could've called me down when I was at the office Greg." I shook my head at him,"Wheres the scans and tests?"

"Red folder." I put down the file and opened up the red folder.

I saw brain scans and negative labs, I was looking for an Amsler grid report or a OCT.

"Did you get an ophthalmologist to look at her eyes?" I looked over at him and he raised his brow at me,"her eyes. She's loosing her vision, did you get some sight tests?"

"Should be something in there." I rolled my eyes at him as I flipped through papers,"Why her eyes?"

"I thought diagnostic medicine was your specialty?" I shot at him and heard his scoff," because macular degeneration, loosing the vision." I opened up the patients file and flipped to the medical history, I felt him shift on the couch, he was sitting closer to me, leaning forward to look at the file...or maybe my chest.

"The gears are turning." He poked my temple.

"Alright, She started having problems with her vision 3 months ago, blurry and getting worse. She went to the eye doctor to change her prescription, it worked for 3 weeks and she never went back. Could be wet AMD."

"abnormal blood vessels growing under the retina. Which have been leaking blood or other fluids, which causes scarring of the macula."he nodded slowly as he looked towards the fireplace.

"So do Anti-VEGF treatment. But the hallucinations aren't a symptom of the AMD. Could be Charles Bonnet syndrome, that's a symptom of vision loss, lack of light entering the Retina so the brains creating images to fill the void." I explained and he hummed.

"can't treat the CBS, but we can treat the AMD, either with the anti-VEGF or laser surgery."

"VEGF first, then the laser." I closed the folders and grabbed the mug and leaned back in the leather couch. "what else?"

"That's really it."He looked back at me and I cocked my head in disbelief at him.

"You didn't know it was AMD or CBS?" I took a sip and he shrugged.

"Had a slight idea, needed a 4th opinion." He grabbed the whiskey bottle and opened it, pouring some into his glass. He closed it and leaned back, holding his glass on his right thigh.

"At two AM?"

"We'll considering you were teaching from three to five, i couldn't bother you. I knew I could get you at two AM, I've gotten you at four." I shook my head as I took snother drink from the mug,"why haven't I hired you?"

"Because I like having my own office." I answered,"my turn, why in the last eleven years haven't I slapped you yet?"

"We'll, for like 5 of those I was married."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"Might've wanted to jump my bones afterwards, I've heard some things." I let out a laugh at the smug look in his face.

"We were both single, horny, and drunk." I crossed my right ket over my left leg,"it doesn't count."

"Oh wilson counts it." He smirked snd wiggled his brows. I let out a sigh, and ran my tongue under my bottom k-9s with a smirk on my face.

"I'm not tell-"he cut me off promptly.

"I don't need you too, I've heard it already." He looked away from me and looked over at the fireplace again and then to the coffee table.

"Oh really? What was your favorite part?" I asked sarcastically, Wilson told me he didn't tell anyone we screwed, but I know Greg doesn't count.

"When you- and I quote- sucked his soul from his dick and then rid him like a fucking pornstar." He finally looked at me,"the scratches you left on his back were also very impressive."

"Wow alright." I felt my heart in my throat, not in a bad way.

I sat up and placed the mug on the table, uncrossing my legs and standing up.

"I'm going-"

"No you're not," he grabbed my wrist, not hard but strong enough to keep me,"you wanna see how far this will go. You're blushed, got a little shake in your hand." He let go it my wrist," And I gotta say, your tits look great. It'd be a crime to not give them attention."

"Is that the Vicodin or whiskey talking?" I sat down if the edge if the couches arm, he was placed in the middle of the couch now.

"Me."

"What? Is a Hooker not available for a night call?" I love giving him a hard time.

"I thought she did arrive?" He gasped and looked at me with a shocked expression. I scoffed at him.

"So what? You call me to come here, have me look at your patients files and solve it for you, and now you think I'm gonna fuck you?"  I crossed my arms and he cocked his head before nodding.

"I don't think you are, I know you are. Wilson's bad at keeping secrets and you like to talk." He took a drink from his glass,"so either we can fuck, or you can just keep waiting, but you've been waiting awhile so I don't think you want to."  My jaw dropped slightly at his words. Damnit Wilson. 

I slid off the arm and sat down next to him, my toros turned to him, my arm resting on the head of the couch, my brows furrowed.

"So I'm actually here to fuck you?" I asked,"you couldn't wait. just had to have me huh?"

"I can blame you for my acute insomnia lately, that's why I'm awake."  He leaned forward and out his glass on the table.

"I've finally gotten under Dr.houses skin haven't I?" I raised my brow, a smirk on my face.

"You've been under my skin for awhile, it's not new." That was news to me. these last couple of months it seemed like he could care less. He kept me around, but it wasn’t the same. I knew how he was though, why I never brought it up.

“Really?” I got a surge of confidence, and I took it.

I used my leverage on the couch to move and straddle his thighs, making sure I was careful when coming around to his right leg. His hands immediately came and sat on my thighs

“Thought you were leaving?” He looked over his shoulder to the door,”or was I right?”

“You’re right, I wanna jump your bones.”

“What about your six AM shift?” His hands left my hips and came up to take hold of my hoodie by the collarbones,”suddenly not important because you know you’re gonna get fucked?”

“I suddenly don’t have to go in till nine.” He pushed my hoodie off, I let it fall off my arms and he watched it do so, he then tossed it down to the side of the coffee table. When he looked up at me, I let my lips come down on his, he responded quickly. My hands sat on his shoulders and His hands sat on my ass, he used the grip to pull me closer to him. My chest pushing into his.

I could taste the whiskey on his tongue and the coffee on mine. His beard tickled my chin and all I could think about was how it would feel in between my legs, the thought made my hips grind down on him. His finger tips pushed into my skin as he joined in on the motion. Rocking my hips steadily down on his hardening cock in his pants.

A hand slid from his shoulder to the back of his head, my fingers carding through his hair. I could feel my heartbeat in my pussy, snd I could myself getting wet.

He pulled away from me shortly after, but his lips came back to my skin. Placing a trail of kisses from my jaw to my neck, the feeling of his beard caused a small moan to escape as his hands slid up the back of my ass and took hold of the hem of my tanktop.

I felt him bundling it in his hands, though his lips didn’t leave my neck yet, he wasn’t bitting or sucking just leaving open mouth kisses as he traveled to my collarbones and placed a kiss in between them.

His eyes met mine again, his pupils more dilated then before. He didn’t say anything but took the moment to start lifting my tanktop off snd I let him, he tossed it behind me to my hoodie.

“I knew they were nice, but wow.” His eyes were glued on my chest like a teenage boy to his first playboy magazine. his hands rubbed up and down my waist,”sure they’re real? I’ll be able to tell.”

“They are.” I replied as his hands took hold of them, massaging them. I pressed them harder into his hands, I just wanted to feel him. If I was gonna screw Dr.House, I might as well make it good.

I kept my hips rocking on him, my hips rocking faster and I tried to keep my upper half as still as possible. his hard cock rubbing against my clothes pussy. What a night to wear lace to bed. He pressed kisses to my left breast before taking my nipple into my mouth, that hand slid down my ribs and pushed past the band of my pants and slipped right past my panties.

His tongue swirled around the bud as his finger ran right over my slit before diving to my clit.

“Aah yes.” I sighed out, finally reviving what I want, focusing on grinding into his finger. he wasn’t moving it, just keeping it there for me to use. I appreciate it. His mouth left my nipple and me pressed a kiss between both my breasts. Another moan left my mouth as my head lulled back, my lips stayed parted.

“Wet and needy, just as I was hoping.” His hand slipped away from my breast and onto my waist, he held it tightly,”the tough doctor turns into a little bitch when aroused.”

“Focus on me, not yourself.” I retorted and he scoffed.

Something I was expecting was getting flipped my off of him. He had me pinned under him, his good leg kneeled on the couch, keeping my right leg pinned to the back of the couch, also keeping him stable with the help of his new found grip on the couches arm. His finger didn’t leave the clit In the motion, so he started rubbing faster, even added a second finger.

My chest started rising a bit faster as more moans left my lips, and in true men-fashion, right as it was getting good…he pulled away. His hand exited my pants, but both hands came and met the band of my pants. His weight shifted to his good knee as he pulled both pieces of clothing down my legs, lifting them up when needed, then letting them fall. He tossed the clothing with the rest and I sat up and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, taking a moment to start a heated kiss, one that lasted long enough to slide my hands to the hem of his shirt and start pulling it up.

I pulled away from him to get it over his head and arms and threw it behind Me. Grabbing his face and pulling him back down with me resuming the kiss. Grabbed my previously pinned leg and held it over his hip and pulled away from me. His right hand came back down to my pussy. Wet and begging for anything; Which he gave. His middle finger came down to my core, circling it before diving in. A moan louder then the rest ripped out of me.

“If only I could get that sound copied on a record, could listen to it all day.” I looked at him through slotted eyes, meeting his blue ones which shifted from my gaze to my Pussy. His ring finger joined his middle finger, pumping out of me in a medium pace. My back was sticky against the leather as my back lifted up, my boobs lightly bouncing as my chest rose and fell.

“Feels fucking great.” I moaned out, my eyes falling closed. I felt the couch shift and then lips and a beard against my inner thigh. Trailing open mouth kisses to my core. I couldn’t stop the begging from leaving my lips,”please Greg, please.”

“Gettin’ there.” He quickly commented before his tongue latched to my clit.

My body shivered and my eyes rolled back under my closed lids. His fingers finally found my gspot and my hand shot to his hair, tugging on his crown. My hips rolled into his face as he switched between licking and sucking my clit.

I couldn’t help but moan, i was feeling great. My thighs pressed against his bare and warm shoulders, my calf being nudged by his elbow each time he pumped his fingers. My head felt dizzy, my body warm, and my abdominal muscles tight. I was gonna cum already, last bar hookup was 4 months ago and I’ve barely used my vibrator. There was no doubt I was gonna be the quick one tonight. My hips started bucking up, so his free arm pressed down on hips, holding me a bit more still and controlled. He changed his fingers angle snd pressure, curling them in a “come” motion.

“Just like that!” My voice was a higher pitch now, and within a few second, pathetically, k was seeing stars behind closed lids. My nail scratching against his scalp, trying to hold onto him for dear life, my other hand taking hold of the top edge of the couch.

He kept his pace and speed for bit after my orgasm, trying to push me to a cliff. Which he did Successfully, could probably tell my how I was I moaning his name, how wet his chin was, and how wet I was getting, and used it to know when the right time was to stop.

“Wow.” He breathed out as he sat up, adjusting to sit down properly,”now I understand why you eat pineapple everyday.”

I haven’t even opened my eyes yet, my legs were shaking, and I was catching my breath. I felt his weight leave the couch and heard the shaking metal of his belt, so I opened my eyes. I met his gaze which was staring at me and then they went down to where his hands were. Unzipping his pants, about to reveal the dick I’ve wanted to ride for a few years. I sat up, feeling how wet the bottom of my ass was against the leather. Now I understand why the couch is leather.

I pushed his hands away and hooked my fingers into the band in his boxers and started pulling them down, taking hold of his hard cock when it sprung out. He grabbed hold in his is pants from coming down any further then he wanted m, and he simply shook his head grabbing his cane. I respectfully brushed it off, my hand left his boxers band and traveled up his side sitting on his hip. He was bigger then I would’ve guessed, but it made sense.

I let go of his cock and spit onto my hand, taking hold of his and twisting my fist up and down, when I licked his tip. I looked up at him through my lashes. His head was rested back, obviously an expression of pleasure was plastered on his face, his breathing deep. so I let my eyes fall as I look him into my mouth, not wasting time to flatten my tongue, pumping the base of his cock. I felt his hand snake into my hair, grabbing some in his fist. He wasn’t using it to control me, though it wasn’t hard to tell by his tightening grip he wanted to. I would’ve let him, I kinda planned on letting him, but he only kept me down there for a few more moments before pulling me off.

“What are you on?” He asked the moment his cock left my mouth.

“IUD.” I answered catching the breath I needed. He didn’t respond,”it’s fine, as long as the last prostitute you fucked was clean.”

“Made sure.” He assured me as he sat down, letting his cane rest against the couch again. I stood up to get a better placement over his cock. His hands sat on my hips, his lips finding my breast again. I reach around and grabbed his cock, sliding it through my folds before holding it to my core.

I lowered down on it, moaning out at the initial stretch, and he groaned. His head falling back onto the head of the couch as he took a long inhale through his nose and sighed it out, a whispered “fuck” followed suit. Lowered down more, grabbing onto his shoulders, and biting down on my lower lip to stop a moan that would wake the neighbors from coming out. I lowered down completely onto him, taking a bit more then half of him in one go. I curled forward, moaning onto his neck as his finger tips pressed into my skin.

“When was-“

“Four months ago, shut up.” I mean pushed off of him and met his face, a disconcerted look on his face.

“I’m honored.” His tone was cocky and paired with a smirk. He raised hips and lowered me back down, that fuzzy brain feeling was coming back when he did it again, and again. Each time higher to where his tip was only left, snd lowering me down harder.

“Oh fuck Greg!” My nails pressed into his skin, I caught on with his movement, moving my hips with his guidance. He didn’t like slow I could tell, medium pace was where he liked to start at. Slowly getting faster, snd harder.

My brain drowned out into the sounds of our breathing, my moans, and the loudening groans that came from him. I could feel how wet the inside of my thighs were getting. My hips on auto pilot, riding him quickly. His tip bumping snd rubbing into my gspot.

My nails finally dug into his shoulder when his thumb met my clit and my walls tightened around him. Rubbing Harsh circles against the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves.

“You look fucking perfect.” I couldn’t open my eyes, too overwhelmed with my nerves feeling like they’re on fire, my heart pulsing in my throat and clit,”and so-goddamn (y/n), squeeze me any tighter and I’m not gonna have a dick.”

“Dram-ah- queen.” I said through my shakey , near breathless voice. I didn’t wanna cum, not yet. It was all Too damn good to not savor it.

So I grabbed onto the back of the couch and started really riding him. Rocking and swiveling my hips into his when I came down, keeping my speed and pace constant, at least trying.

“Oh fuuck me (y/n).” His thumb started rubbing faster, ripping a broken moan from my throat. My chest pushed into his, his fingertips pressing further into my waist, no doubt leaving bruises for tomorrow.

“I’m gonna cum.” I speedily warned him.

“Not yet, just a few more minutes.”

“Greg-“

“Just wait.” His tone was firm but tinted with a bit of fake annoyance at my greediness.

“Jus’ want you to fill me up, come on.” My breathing was deep as I spoke but sped up when I stopped. My hairline was damp snd so was the back of my knees.

He bucked his hips up into mine, sounds leaning his throat at their own will, so caught up in his own pleasure he couldn’t even care.

Those few minutes felt like torture, my orgasm on the brink of snapping while his thumb is still abusing my clit. The corners of my lips curled when I felt his cock start twitching inside of me, getting more obvious by the second.

“Now.” He spit out,”gonna full up this greedy pussy.”

It snapped, my orgasm ripped through me, my walls spasmed around him which triggered his orgasm. I pushed my body into his, feeling his warm skin radiating against mine. I could feel him shooting into me, mixing with my own orgasm and spilling down my thighs and onto him.

I rode him till I couldn’t anymore, I finally gave out. His cock buried inside me as I laid against him, his hands holding onto my ass as we caught our breath. Soon after he lifted my hips off of him, his cock sliding out of me and I moved to sit on the leather next to him. Holding one of my knees to my body, my head falling back.

“If I knew your dick was that big I woukd be jumped you years ago.” I let out a breathy chuckled snd he hummed.

“I regret not grabbing your Tits earlier, should’ve acted on my impulse.” He said standing up, putting his boxers and pants back on,”so anti-VEGF treatment tomorrow?” He asked grabbing his cane and leaning against it as he looked down at me.

“Let me check her out first and I’ll confirm.” I answered and looked back up at the ceiling. I heard him walk away so I lifted my head and watched him,”where are you going?”

“To clean up and go to sleep, you coming?” He asked stopping in his tracks.

“Not again tonight, no.” I replied and he blinked at me a few times, a smile keept to his lips.

“Ha-ha!” He sarcastically laughed before going back to his original expression and limping away. I can’t really be mad, I kinda solved his case and got fucked, but now it’s 3:40, and I have work at six still.

[auckie]

How did brain trauma make you colorblind? I thought it was genetic.

Excess spinal fluid put pressure on my occipital nerve causing the typical changes in contrast sensitivity, visual distortion and such (floaters, grey spots, weakened periphery vision, etc). It’s not common or well studied but I’ve been told by my neurologist, ophthalmologist, and optometrist that my sense of color is absolutely off, and the only feasible cause is my IIH/PTC. Esp bc I’ve been tested when I was younger and showed no signs of any form of colorblindness, but nowadays my scores are very skewed. So because of this I don’t have a severe case of Deuteranomaly bc it’s not like a true case of genetic colorblindness but my ability to differentiate reds and greens is impaired. I used color filters that further exaggerate this (bc I get migraines and cluster headaches very easily with bright light) but even without any filters I just straight up am fucked when it comes to telling apart oranges and pinks and turquoises and shit. Like to the point that I’ve gotten into huge arguments about the color of a car or like when I make designs even just in video games or stupid little doll dress up games. I’ll show people and they have this pained look and I’ll be like. What. And they’ll ask ‘why’s this purple?’ And I’m like are you fucking kidding me. It probably doesn’t help I have horrific eye sight and am so sensitive to light. I’m literally like a cave goblin who feels around and uses sound and smell to deduce ‘these pants are tan 😏‘ and then I go out and someone’s like woah paired a green shirt with pink pants awesome man and I’m like what the fuck are you talk about

[gojonanami]

SAAAAAB TAKE ALL.THE TIME U WANT BUT I NEED MY ANSWERS OKAY? heh lol

So which specialty doctors different characters of jujutsu kaisen would be?

Does this make sense? Hope so 😭 like who would be neurosurgeon, dentist, cardiologist etc etc. I feel like you'd research a lot and give it on point <3 love that about u!!! This is just a fun little ask. Don't forget to include ino takuma, mahito <3

I love this question! — okay okay

satoru: ophthalmologist — eye doctor because he’s a six eyes…user lmao. he would treat diseases of the eyes and perform surgery very skillfully. he also would be great with kids and would charm patients easily.

suguru: neurosurgeon — this is below the belt (or should I say through the skull) but I do think neurosurgeon fits suguru well — he has the ability to remain calm under pressure and he is very skilled with his hands (in hand to hand combat ok?)

nanami: pediatrician— hear me out, this man loves kids even if he doesn’t act like it. he would be such a good caretaker and would do it with such love and duty. all the kids would call him dr. nanamin 🥹

choso: hematologist — he would be fascinated by diseases of the blood and would help with running and diagnosing diseases in patients. he would work a lot with kids but he would be willing to see any patient if needed in his hospital / practice

yuta: cardiologist — he is all about love after all 💕 but also I think he would be wonderful at treating maladies of the heart — especially since this is a profession that is very in demand — and you need to be able to work with your patients very well, which I think yuta would be perfect for

yuji: I’m torn for yuji — he would either be a general family doctor or a palliative care physician. family doctor because he’s just a caring boy who wants to help people stay healthy so I really could see him building strong relationships with his patients as he saw them day in and day out. but I could also see him working as a palliative care doctor, helping patients live their last days in peace and making sure they are comfortable — especially after he saw his grandfather pass like that 🥹

megumi: veterinarian (it counts ok, they have to do a lot of medical studies) — he would be so good with the pets, none of his patients’ families could deny that even if he was a little standoffish (more like a little awkward), his expression always softened when it came to their pets and any person who was worried about their pet and their health 🥹

nobara: dermatologist— she is concerned with skincare and honestly it is something people struggle with and it affects every day life in important ways. she wants to make people feel as beautiful as she does — even without gojo’s blessed genes 😭

maki: emergency medicine — I just see maki as someone who thrives off a busy schedule instead of standing around bored. and she wouldn’t want to spend a ton of time with her patients so this would be s good way for her to help without spending too long with the same patients.

sukuna: let’s be real he’s the reason people are going to the hospital

[cannibalsurprise]

my momma’s an ophthalmologist, she works with kids most of the time, and she is volunteering with a governmental program to give prescriptions to school kids who can’t afford them.

she called me today and told me: “I got this kid today, and in their documentation there was a girl’s name, but their friends were calling them by a boy’s name, so when their turn was up, I called them the boy’s name I heard, and they looked at me and said ‘No, put it under [deadname], because I won’t get my glasses otherwise since the school doesn’t want to change my name’, and I started crying the minute he was done because I can’t bear the thought of you being 14 and having to use your deadname for everything, and I am so sorry I didn’t know how awful it was for you.”

my momma isn’t perfect, but she has a trans son that she adores with her whole heart, and ever since I came out, she has been advocating for those kids who have it rough, pressured and silenced by those in power, and I think that’s the kind of health professional you have to be.

you don’t have to be trans or have a trans kid to know that to give a proper care you need to be aware of the needs of your patient. this kid was going to be denied care, and treatment just because his school was dismissive of his identity as a trans child. he is not able to change his name nor his legal sex until he is 14 because that’s the law.

ADVOCATE FOR YOUR PATIENTS. ADVOCATE FOR YOUR YOUTH. ADVOCATE FOR TRANS KIDS. PROTECT TRANS KIDS.

[dreamy-love222]

School girl crush story time:

Mehdi was a really cute upperclassman that was very good at studying, he was way taller than Amir, had long brown hair with defined curls, a cute button nose, clear skin, pretty and kind looking brown eyes and plump lips, I used to draw him when we were on a break sometimes.

There was one problem. I never talked to this boy before. But my mom knows his mom (mostly people who went to this prestigious school in Tunisia were kids of doctors/ business men/ politicians/ engineers ect… his mom was an ophthalmologist that did her thesis at the same time as my mom and they studied together throughout all the years of medschool. So she was closer to her than to Amir’s mother who was a dental assistant (I think that’s how she knows her it’s really vague in my memory) at my aunt’s Cabinet (she’s a well known dentist in Tunisia)

Anyway… my heart would break every time I see him hug Amène the popular girl, or kiss her cheek. she hung out with upperclassmen and I thought it was so cool but I hated her guts after what she did to me and how she made my relationship with Amir awkward. So Mehdi was 15 years old and was in a relationship with Amène. And idk how Amène found out maybe it’s because I was writing his name and last name with hearts all over my copybooks, I was obsessed with him. And he never bullied me or made fun of me for being overweight or anything! So she embarrassed me multiple times by getting me to talk to Mehdi and I would get all flustered and suddenly I forgot how to form a coherent sentence.

They broke up but still had a flirty relationship and amène wanted me to get with him (she didn’t really like him like I did, just wanted a fun time is what she told me and she also liked that boys would literally fall at her feet)

Whenever amène would try to embarrass me He would laugh to make the situation less awkward and tell me it was okay, he was also always accompanied by his best friend, another Mahdi lol it’s pronounced the same just written differently.

But one time as I was waiting for my mom to pick me up and Mehdi and Mahdi were also right outside our school. And I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on their conversation but I was with nobody and they were talking about a Sarra

So naturally I got curious when I heard my name.

« - Did you know that Sarra from the 7ème has a huge crush on you? »

« -yeah, it’s pretty obvious, plus amène told me, I don’t understand why everyone is so mean to her I always see the boys in her class swarm up around her during the break and make fun of her calling her names… she’s a pretty cute girl if I do say so myself, she’s always kind to those around her too, our interactions were very sweet… but I don’t see myself dating her… she seems… idk too innocent… childlike almost, but at the same time she acts more mature than all the girls in her class that I know of (he’s talking about the popular girls that are Amène’s friends that only Date upperclassmen) when she isn’t being bullied I see her drawing, sometimes I see her with Yasmine (Yasmine is also very well liked by the boys but she always rejects them in a badass way haha) but she’s mostly alone… her head in the clouds, I wonder what she thinks about. »

It did hurt a bit that he didn’t want to date me but this was a turning point in my life

1- a boy thought I was PRETTY CUTE!AND SWEET WHAAAAT????

2- he thought I was mature! He saw through the facade… me having to keep up a persona so I don’t seem too gloomy and sad (I wouldn’t shut up about my dad and how much I miss him if I was honest with my classmates) (I would tear up when I see dads coming to pick up their children afterschool. I was so jealous because my dad was working abroad)

3- he cares enough to wonder what I think of!!!!

For reference i was 157cm I used to have a bob with bangs and my hair was silky Dark brown and very beautiful compared to now. It was healthy silky and shiny, when it would dry naturally it would look like I went to the hairdresser… I wish my hair still looked like that. (Honestly if I am told it would go back to how it was once I go into recovery I would try) I also had a smaller nose (I want my old nose back PLEASE!) big pink lips. Huge brown eyes that looked even bigger because my face was smaller. When I look back at pics I feel so sad that I thought I was ugly I was just a bit overweight…. Children can be brutal honestly.

So yeah, way down memory lane we go.. this is literally so embarrassing to share lool (I hope no one I know irl finds this but at the same time who cares I am 19! I can do whatever!)

[oboetemasuka]

Order of Attack, part 10

I'm being put on trial for this...

and I'd do it again. In fact, I'll do it right now. (this is a scheduled post)

Cw for suicidal thoughts and Amane's cult mindset. Medical information may be inaccurate. I might go over this again when I wake up.

Courtesy link to AO3, which will be updated at some point tomorrow.

...Can I finally call this hurt/comfort?

-

"Wouldn’t it be weird for me to have thoughts on that, then?" Muu picked at her nails. "After all, I didn't do anything wrong. You forgave me!"

Was Muu always this callous? Es took a nervous breath. They had to find out. "But… don't you feel bad for Amane at least?"

"Hm? Why would I? She has nothing to do with me. You ask strange questions, Warden-san." Her expression remained carefree. "I mean, you didn't let up on her, and it's your job. Why should I be concerned when you're just doing your job and I'm completely uninvolved?"

Es felt ridiculous for even asking. What did they expect? This wasn't even like their conversation with Haruka, who had at least been friends with Fuuta. Muu had very little to do with Amane, and Es was asking for Muu's sympathy just because they got a kid hurt.

—

"Orbital floor fracture on the right. Traumatic retinal detachment. Bruising. Lacerations. Broken ribs. That is Amane's present condition."

Es couldn't meet Shidou's eyes. What could they even say?

"In ordinary circumstances, these are treatable wounds. But alas, I am not an ophthalmologist, so I was unable to do much about her eye. Still, she should have been completely healed if my calculations are correct. Worse yet, she actively thwarts my treatments."

"Amane…" It was Es's fault she got hurt. They chose not to forgive her out of a misguided attempt to show her that her beliefs were wrong. They dreaded having to tell her that… or maybe they didn't have to…

"Kajiyama-kun's condition is even worse. I am sure you remember what I told you. He was in terrible shape by the end of the interrogation. You should have called me over sooner."

Es was too ashamed to tell Shidou that they had at least seven chances to get him at the time.

"He has asked on multiple occasions to make the pain stop. Forever. Both their minds and bodies are at their limits. Please, Es-kun, put an end to this. They could die if they are stuck here any longer."

Es had personally seen Fuuta's fading will. They dreaded what they would find with Amane. But what could they do but carry on with their duties of Milgram?

—

Amane pulled the eyepatch over her eye. It was still incredibly uncomfortable, especially since she wasn't sure how to put it on correctly. She just hoped Shidou wouldn't get on her case about it again when she went to visit Fuuta.

"Oh, Amane-chan!" Mahiru skipped up to her but wobbled on one step. "Do you... do you need help with that?" Her voice was shaky despite her attempts to sound as bubbly as she used to.

Amane nodded and let Mahiru adjust the eyepatch. To think that only a week ago she would have swatted Mahiru's hand away or turned around and sped-walked away. But maybe letting Mahiru help her would have more benefits than consequences. She recalled her promise to Mahiru; it wasn’t just Fuuta she was looking out for. She told Mahiru that she’d help with her redemption too. It’s okay to disobey the laws of my faith a little longer, right? If it means saving two more souls…

"There you go, all better," Mahiru said.

Amane didn’t know just what Mahiru did, but she could barely feel the eyepatch anymore.

"Thank you, Mahiru-san."

"Oh, no need to thank me… You know, I knew you were still the same Amane-chan deep down."

The same? What was she implying? "Don't push it…"

"S-sorry!" Too harsh?

"Mahiru-san, do you want to come with me?"

Amane figured that maybe Fuuta would listen to her if she wasn't some lone crazy kid. Mahiru seemed to be thinking something in a similar vein.

"Of course. I'll just… be with you."

-

Shidou's cell door opened, and Yuno stepped out.

"Oh! Mahiru-san. Amane-chan."

"Hi, Yuno-chan…"

"Kashiki Yuno. What are the conditions inside that cell?"

"Oh, Shidou-san just woke up. Fuuta is kind of in a daze, though."

"No matter. We are just here to check on him like usual."

Yuno turned to Mahiru. "Are you sure you want to go in after what happened last time?"

"Huh? Oh, I'm… I'm fine. Besides, I'll let Amane-chan do most of the talking."

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

"No, I'll be fine."

"Well, if you insist. But if Fuuta says anything nasty to you-"

"I'll be fine! Really! But thanks for looking out for me, Yuno-chan."

-

Yuno was right about Fuuta being in a daze. That meant she was probably wrong about the possibility of him snapping at them.

"Fuuta Kajiyama." Fuuta stirred and barely cracked his eyes open when Amane spoke. "We are very concerned about your condition."

"You and every… no sh…" Just from that tone, it was clear he was getting worse.

"You continue to rely on medicine. Anyone can see it is only making you worse. You want numbness? Numbness is not the answer."

Fuuta looked ready to object, but Mahiru spoke up.

"Fuuta-kun, I… I know you're tired of everyone stopping by and worrying, but… we really do mean it. It's not some… some self-serving pity. We really do care about you."

Fuuta's expression softened. Amane was glad Mahiru stepped in. She wouldn't have been able to put it like that.

Mahiru continued, "I know how tempting it is to never have to feel anything again. But running away from the pain isn't the answer. Yes, it isn't pleasant, but it makes us human. I promise there's something to look forward to after all of it." She paused to gauge Fuuta's reaction. There was no trace of hostility left. She lowered her voice so Amane wouldn't hear. "Listen to Shidou. Won't you take better care of yourself? …If not for your own sake, then for Amane-chan as well?"

After a long silence, Fuuta responded, "Your sake… huh… I'll think about it… Amane and you…" He smiled weakly at Mahiru. "That… that was all you?"

Amane didn't have much more to add onto Mahiru's spiel. "Those were wise words. Fuuta Kajiyama, will you keep them in mind?"

"Mmhmm."

-

"Mahiru-san, how did you do it?" Amane asked. Whatever Mahiru had told Fuuta at the end, it seemed to work.

"Oh, it was all you. Before, I wasn't sure how to approach Fuuta-kun. But you helped me realize what he was fighting. Thank you, Amane-chan."

"Thank you. You knew what to say to get through to him."

[eraserisms]

Early Father’s Day present: the largest fucking bottle of eye drops you’ve ever seen. The kids in his class insisted.

This lovely gift was sent in by @adam--bomb

Shota hadn't expected Cass to come into his class after school. He had told her that he was fine as far as his workload went and didn't need the extra hands. He had only looked up from his work briefly upon her opening the door before going right back to it. Maybe she had forgotten something.

He hadn't paid much attention as to what was in her hands. As she approached his desk his eyes moved back up "I thought I said to take the evening..." he started before trailing off, his brow knitting at the bottle that was in her hands. "Eyedrops? For me? I didn't even realize they sold them that big. You didn't rob an ophthalmologist's office did you?"

[coffeefrenchandhistory]

About Me

I figured I should do this. No idea why. Anyway, it'll get updated... whenever I feel like it should get updated.

Tumblr bio (because it's somehow getting cut off and I don't like that): I'm Josh. 32. Unapologetically Jewish & Zionist. History geek, nerd, and Francophone. I write fanfics on AO3. Slytherin ambition with Gryffindor nerve. Blank/empty/anti-Zionist and antisemitic blogs will be blocked

What's your name?

Sir Lancelot of Camelot (and my quest is to seek the Holy Grail) It's Josh [surname redacted]. Pronouns are he/him.

You're on AO3?

I am! I'm currently writing a Wrong-Boy-Who-Lived fanfic (yes, yes, I know, WBWL stories have a... reputation...).

What fandoms do/will you write?

Predominantly Harry Potter if only because that series was my first love and still has a place in my heart. I'm also planning a few fanfics in the Mass Effect, DC, Star Trek, Game of Thrones, original fiction, and Fallout fandoms.

Why?

Well it all started when I was born...

Who are your fanfic idols/inspirations?

@artemisia-black, hands down. She is one of the finest writers I've ever seen, ever had the privilege of interacting with, and I genuinely adore her as a person.

But I'm also a big fan of Frickles, TheSinister_Man, Dorothea Greengrass, and TheEndless7.

What kind of fanfics do you write?

If it's Harry Potter, it's either a Wrong Boy-Who-Lived (WBWL) fic — either with Harry's brother as the believed to be Boy-Who-Lived or Neville as the believed to be Boy-Who-Lived. Or it'll be "action-adventure" where canon diverts this way instead of that way.

Ships?

I mean the USS Massachusetts is pretty neat, but that's also because I was able to visit it when I was a kid.

No, I mean, who do you ship?

Ohhhh!

I'm not a fan of Harry/Ginny, nor Ron/Hermione. Actually, the only canon pairings I like are James/Lily and Ted/Andromeda... that's pretty much it.

For Harry: Lavender (she'd be great for him ngl), Hermione (eh, sometimes), Pansy (enemies to lovers is top tier), Daphne (Haphne is a top tier ship and everyone should know it), Susan, Fleur (I just think she's neat), Tonks (post-war), Andromeda (post-war), Parvati, Padma, and Bellatrix (when it involves time travel).

Most out-there ship you've got?

Ron/Pansy, Hermione/Cormac or Anthony Goldstein/Hermione, Draco/Ginny. Also Kingsley/Bellatrix, Sirius/Aurora Sinistra, and Snape/getting his ass handed to him.

Most cursed ship you've seen?

[trauma intensifies] We don't go there. But I've seen some shit.

What character(s) do you hate the most?

Snape. I despise Severus Snape with every fiber of my being. The fact that Harry names his son after that child-abusing terror supporting racist wank-stain who simped hard for his mother after calling her a bigoted slur is a stain (and wanted her as a prize after he sold Lily, James, and baby Harry out to Voldemort) is the reason I throw the epilogue into the trash where it belongs.

Also Dumbledore, while I do think he's (for the most part) well-meaning, is very much the chess master who got far too up his own ass with how important he is. Also he facilitated child abuse, so I don't like him.

And Molly Weasley, who is an overbearing harpy of a mother who gleefully and maliciously went out of her way to bully a 15 year old girl because she read some bullshit in the Daily Prophet — when a few chapters before she had dismissed the author (Rita Skeeter) as a hack.

What do you do?

I work for a medical provider's office. Specifically, an ophthalmologist's office. Oh, go get your eyes checked!

Do you like it?

So then what do you want to do?

I'm actually getting myself out there to be an actor! And a writer of works that aren't fanfics.

Are you Zionist?

Yes.

What does that — ?

It means I believe Jews have the right to national self-determination in our ancestral homeland.

But what about — ?

That's literally the definition of Zionism. And yes, I do believe that anti-Zionism is antisemitism.

What if I'm an anti-Zionist?

Get off my blog then. I don’t want you here.

[stargazer-sims]

Journal Entry #49 (part one)

previously - Promises

Victor

You guys! I can see!

Okay... I can sort of see. Everything's still kind of fuzzy, but I woke up this morning, rolled over in bed and realized that the picture of Yuri and me that he keeps on his nightstand didn't look like just a bunch of yellow, beige and black smudges any more.

Yeah... I've been sleeping in Yuri's bed. He's been in the hospital since Tuesday, and despite the house being full of people, I'm lonely without him. Sleeping in his bed helps comfort me a little. Besides, the only other place for me would be back on the shikibuton in the dining room, and Uncle Kaz says he’s already made himself too comfortable in there for us to switch.

I know you’re all wondering about Yuri. I'll explain all about his situation in a minute, but I gotta tell you about this morning first, because I’m too excited about it to save telling about it for later.

I stared at the picture for several seconds. Then, just to make sure I was really seeing it, I deliberately opened and closed my eyes a bunch of times, and focused on the picture each time I opened them. Even though I knew it wouldn't change anything, I pressed gently on my eyelids with my fingertips and probably sounded like I was losing my mind as I mumbled, "You guys better keep working. Understand?"

They did. The final time I opened my eyes, I could still see the photo, somewhat blurry but recognizable as the image of myself and Yuri that had become familiar to me.

I yelled so loud for my mom that I think she must've thought something was wrong and panicked. The good thing was, she was already awake and I didn't startle her out of her sleep. I knew she was already up because she and Julian have been sleeping in my room, which is just across the hall, but I could hear her literally running up the stairs. She was shouting my name just as loudly as I was calling for her. We probably woke up everybody else in the house, but I didn't care.

Mom burst through the door with an exclamation of, "Victor! What's the matter?"

I could see the details of her face for the first time since she'd arrived, and I just gotta say, my mom is beautiful. I held out my arms to her. There were already tears running down my face, but I somehow managed to get out, "I can see. I... I can see you."

She hurried to me and pulled me into a hug, and we both spent a few minutes crying while she held me.

"What happened?" she asked, after we’d both calmed down and caught our breath. She wiped tears from my cheek with her thumb, and I leaned into her hand a little, remembering how she used to do that when I was a kid.

"I'm not sure," I said. "I guess the swelling in my brain is finally going down?"

"Did you wake up like this?"

“Yeah, I did. I didn't believe it at first. I was scared it'd just disappear again, but I think it's okay. Stuff is still blurry, but it's a lot better than before."

"Your doctor said it'd take a couple of weeks for the worst of the symptoms to resolve, didn't she?"

"She did, but I don't think I really believed her. It's kind of funny that it happened on the day I'm supposed to see the ophthalmologist, too."

"Are you still going?" Mom asked.

"Of course," I said. "Dr. Ishida did her best to fit me in on short notice. It'd be rude not to go. Plus, I still want to see what she thinks. Like, I want to know if she can tell me whether I'll get all my vision back, or if this is going to be it."

"Is Mrs. Okamoto still going with you?" Mom asked.

"With us," I amended. "You're still coming, aren't you? Actually, I don't think we really need Mrs. Okamoto to come along. It was mostly so we'd know where to go, but I know where the clinic is. You can drive, and I'm pretty sure I can see well enough now to give you directions."

"That sounds good," Mom said. "I think I'd be more comfortable with just the two of us, anyway."

"Me too," I admitted. "Hey... do you think you could help me find something to read? I need to check if I can do it.”

She glanced around for a second and then reached for my phone on the bedside table. “Here. Read me the date and time.”

My lock screen is a picture of me and Elsa, which was taken by Seiji's coach, Masao. In it, I'm getting big air and Elsa's underside is clearly visible, her name in white script and the Canadian flag standing out proudly against the bold blue and yellow.

I had to squint a little bit, but I read aloud, “Friday, February fifth. 6:39 a.m."

I hadn't even noticed it was already February until that moment.

"Good job, sweetheart!" Mom sounded exactly like she was talking to a little kid who'd tied his shoelaces by himself or printed his own name for the first time, but I didn't mind one bit. I feel like I was probably glowing from the praise, as if I'd done something monumental.

Then again, maybe I had. I'd been terrified that my vision would never get better and that I'd have to spend the rest of my life trapped in a fog and being led around everywhere, so to just wake up and suddenly be able to see stuff again was huge and overwhelming.

It struck me how much independence this would give back to me. For the past two weeks, I hadn't been able to do the most basic things like reading my messages, choosing an audio book to listen to, or even picking out the clothes I wanted to wear each day and checking myself in the mirror. All of that and more was available to me again, and I was grateful.

I studied my screen for a second longer, verifying both the date and my renewed ability to read it. Then, I looked up from my phone and into my mom's beaming face. "Mom, you know what day today is?"

"Friday, February fifth," she replied, sounding slightly amused.

"Yeah, but February fifth is my anniversary of coming here."

"Oh," she said. "That's right."

"I can hardly wait to visit Yuri today, 'cause I'm sure he remembers too. I can't wait to see him. Like, literally see him."

I recalled the day I'd first landed in Japan. Yuri and I had known each other for three years, and both of us had been feeling impatient with our long-distance relationship. We agreed that we needed to be together in person, and I think we both knew it’d be me who’d end up travelling, even before I told him I would come to him.

I remember my emotions shifting back and forth between excitement and nervousness as I made my way through the tunnel that led from the plane to the the noisy, crowded international airport in Kyoto. Yuri had been waiting there for me in the arrivals area, holding a hand-lettered cardboard sign with 'NELSON' on it, like something from a movie, as if I wouldn't recognize him immediately on sight. We'd joked about him meeting me at the airport with a sign, but I hadn't thought he'd really do it. I was already madly in love with him, but I'd fallen just a bit harder at that.

Knowing that he wasn't comfortable being touched, I'd had to resist the urge to run to him and catch him in a tight hug to complete our movie-like scene, but the way his gorgeous dark eyes sparkled and the delicate pink blush that spread across his nose and cheeks when he reached shyly for my hand more than made up for the lack of a welcome embrace. The hugs and cuddles and soft little kisses would come, with time and patience.

Now, two years on from our first in-person meeting, he's not shy at all about touching me or letting me touch him, and he seeks out affection from me on his own. In fact, he often demands it, in the most adorable and endearing way possible.

One of my favourite things is snuggling with him in the mornings, breathing in the sweet scent of him — strawberries and sandalwood — and admiring how cute he is with his wide brown eyes and sleep-tousled hair. I never fail to melt with pleasure at his touch when we're in bed like that, because he knows exactly how to find all my 'secret spots', as he calls them. His feathery kisses against my collarbone always make me go weak, and there are other places on my body that I think he likes to tease with his clever little fingers just to hear the sounds I'll involuntarily produce. He plays me like his violin, and I'm happy to let him.

I've been missing those moments of gentle intimacy. I miss everything, really; the warmth and softness of his pale, perfect skin when he embraces me and presses his forehead against mine in greeting, the way he says my name, the way he pouts when I remind him to eat or take his medication, and the way he smiles sweetly in thanks when I bring him his morning tea so he can enjoy it in bed. I confess, I'm hopelessly, irrevocably in love with him, and I miss being with him.

Not for the first time, I wished everything would go back to normal. I wanted Yuri to get better and come home to me. I wanted my arms to hurry up and heal so I could get my casts off and be able to hold my sweet boy, because I'm sure he's missing that just as much as I am. What was new for me in all this wishing was that with the return of some of my vision, I was starting to feel hopeful that maybe we really could get back to normal.

"Do you want to get up now?" Mom was asking me.

"What?" It took a second for me to pull myself away from thinking about my husband and to get my mind back on the day ahead. "Uh... yeah, I do."

"Are you hungry?"

"Mom, seriously? Do you even need to ask? But, I want a shower first, and do you think you could shave me? I have to look presentable for the eye doctor today, not all scruffy and gross."

She smiled. "I thought you were growing your beard out."

I ran my fingertips over my jaw and chin, and gave her what I imagined was a crooked grin. "Yeah, but I'm guessing it doesn't look very nice right now, all weird and patchy like this. I can start over when I don't have any appointments that require somebody getting up close and personal."

"All right, but I think we'd better get Julian or Kenji to help you shave."

"Julian," I said.

My relationship with my father-in-law might've been improving, but I'm still not comfortable enough with him to let him near my face with a sharp object. Not that I was worried he'd do anything on purpose, but I didn't know how well he'd handle it and I'd be nervous about him cutting me by accident. I'd much rather have Julian's steady, confident veterinary surgeon's hands performing that particular task.

"Okay," Mom said. "I'll ask him when he gets up."

"I don't want to wait till Julian gets up for my shower. Can you help me in there, at least?"

"Of course," she said. "I guess you're over being embarrassed about me seeing you in the buff?"

I laughed out loud at that. "You know what Uncle Kaz said."

"I heard him telling you that I'd already seen it all before," she said. "I swear, that man has no filters. If it's in his head, it comes out of his mouth."

"You gotta admit he's a great guy, though."

"He's growing on me."

"He's hard not to like." I pushed the blankets off myself and then awkwardly turned around so that I was sitting on the edge of the bed with my feet on the floor. "All right. Here I go."

Mom steadied me with nothing more than a hand under my elbow, as I got out of bed almost completely unaided for the first time in two weeks.

Mom was quick to envelop me in a hug once I was in my feet. "Well done, Victor."

I grinned. "I'm going to walk to the bathroom by myself."

"Go for it," she said. "But, I'm still going to help you when you're ready to go downstairs."

I nodded. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea." I wandered over to Yuri's wardrobe cupboard and hooked my fingers into the little grooves in the doors to open it up. A lot of my clothes are in Yuri's cupboard, and a bunch of his are in mine. It's why I can't find my stuff most of the time. That, and I'm also kinda disorganized. "I think I'll go with a button-up shirt. Yuri would want me to look respectable for my appointment. Let's see... What would he boss me into wearing?"

Behind me, I could hear my mother trying to hold in a laugh. "Even when he's not here, he's here."

"Yup," I agreed. I struggled to get the shirt I wanted off its hanger, and ultimately had to let Mom help me, but I still felt triumphant about having found my own shirt and jeans. "Okay. Shower time."

Showering is a chore that involves literally wrapping my arms in plastic trash bags so my casts don't get wet and, up until today, sitting on a little plastic step-stool while I was in there because I was too nervous and unsteady on my feet. Today, I didn't need the stool, but I obviously still needed the plastic bags. Mom and Julian are both getting pretty efficient at wrapping and unwrapping my arms, but I'll be glad when no one has to do that any more.

My appointment with Dr. Ishida was at ten o'clock, so I had plenty of time beforehand to get ready, eat breakfast, and even exchange some texts with my boss and my friends. I had to tap out my messages painstakingly with my index finger, due to not being able to use my thumbs, but this was definitely progress. Tomiko, Takahiro and Fox were all glad to hear from me and wanted to know when they could stop by for a visit.

Oddly, the person I’d expected to reply first didn't reply at all. Seiji and I usually text and talk a lot. I’d missed him over the last couple weeks, and I’d imagined he missed chatting with me as well. I tried to convince myself not to read too much into his lack of a response, assuming that he was probably up on the mountain and didn't have access to his phone.

But then, I realized how early it still was. He wouldn't be teaching any lessons at this hour, and he definitely wouldn't be training. Masao, a notoriously late sleeper, never has Seiji out training before nine-thirty or ten o'clock. Sometimes my coach and I have already been out there for an hour or two before Seiji and Masao make their appearance. Last season, when Masao was my coach too, that was my biggest pet peeve.

No, it was a safe bet that Seiji was somewhere having breakfast, perhaps eating rice and fish at his parents' house, or grabbing a latte and a breakfast sandwich at the book café. He should’ve have his phone on him. He should’ve been answering me. I didn't understand why he wouldn't, especially since I hadn't talked to him in two weeks.

Don't panic, I told myself. There's got to be a perfectly reasonable explanation.

I resolved to try contacting him again later, and turned my attention to sending a message to my coach.

Sakura, my coach, absolutely freaked out when she received my text, and didn't bother to text me back. Like, maybe three seconds after it came up as 'read', my phone was ringing and the caller ID displayed her name and number.

When I said hello, Sakura didn't even greet me. She screamed down the line at me, "Victor Okamoto-Nelson, you idiot! I've been worried sick about you! Two weeks, and this is the first I hear from you in person? I swear, if I'd gotten one more message from your husband or father-in-law—"

"I'm feeling much better, Fujimoto-sensei. Thank you for asking," I said, as calmly as I could because I knew it'd annoy her.

I actually was feeling a lot better. Today was the best day I'd had since my accident, both psychologically and physically. My arms and rib were hurting, but not to the level where I needed the strong prescription painkillers Dr. Sato had given me, and I finally felt confident enough to walk without help, except on the stairs.

"Cut it out with the sensei bullshit, you dumbass." Sakura sounded angry, but I could hear fondness beneath it. "I'm coming straight over there to kick your butt for putting me through absolute hell for the past two weeks."

"Later," I said. "I've got a doctor's appointment soon, and then I'm going to spend the rest of the day at the hospital with Yuri. You can come over tonight."

There was a long pause, and then, "Hang on... Yuri is in the hospital now?"

"Mr. Okamoto's been messaging you. He didn't tell you?"

"Obviously not. Is Yuri going to be okay?"

"He has an infection," I said. "The doctor called it a 'moderately severe intestinal complication'."

"That doesn't sound good," Sakura observed.

"He's pretty sick," I confirmed. "They're giving him massive doses of antibiotics, and the side effects are brutal. He's getting fluids, and they're doing an intravenous nutrition infusion too, 'cause he can't eat." I closed my eyes for a second, and let out a long, slow breath. "It's hard to watch."

"I can't even imagine how hard," she said sympathetically, all the fierce energy from just a moment earlier gone from her voice. "I don't know how you cope. I'd be losing my mind if Takeshi was ever that sick."

"It's not easy, but it's something I've learned to accept," I told her truthfully. "The worst part for me this time is that I can't take care of him myself."

"You've gotten pretty good at that. Taking care of him."

"Yeah, but it's a two-arm job, so right now I'm useless," I said. "Anyway, Yuri's doctor says she's optimistic, but she also says she won’t even consider releasing him until he can eat on his own, or at least drink a meal replacement drink. She thinks it'll be the middle of next week at the earliest, and she’s recommending that we have somebody from the home health program care for him for a while once he gets out.”

"Are you going to be okay with that?" Sakura asked.

"Honestly? I don't have the luxury of not being okay with it. Mom and Julian can't stay with us for too long, 'cause I mean, their clinic isn't going to run without them forever. Yuri's parents have been awesome, but they've got other stuff going on as well. We need somebody, and I don't get to say I don't like the idea."

"What about Yuri? Is he going to be okay with it?"

"He's not really in a position to choose either, unfortunately." I frowned, thinking about how he was likely to react to the presence of a home healthcare nurse in our house. "Not that it'll stop him from expressing himself about it. Like, I hope this person is patient, because they haven't seen whining and temper outbursts until they've seen Yuri's whining and temper outbursts."

"Poor baby," Sakura said.

"Excuse me? He gets 'poor baby' and I got 'dumbass'?"

"Poor little Yuri didn't throw himself down the mountain at seventy kilometers per hour and land on his head, did he? And you can still eat. Probably everything you can get your hands on, as often as possible, if I know you."

"And some things I can't get my hands on," I admitted.

"You'd better not be gaining too much weight while you're lying around doing nothing but eating and being waited on."

“You’re the worst,” I said.

"Can Takeshi and I visit Yuri?"

“Yes, you guys can visit him. He hasn’t been up to talking or really doing much of anything, but he might like to see you.”

“We’ll bring him a get well card.”

“He’d like that.”

“Consider it done,” Sakura said. “See you tonight?”

"I'll see you tonight," I agreed. "You can hassle me some more then, if you still feel you need to, okay?"

"Seven o'clock," she said. "You'd better be home."

"I will."

"Good, because your other love has been missing you, and she’d never forgive you if you stood her up.”

I didn't need to ask who she meant. "Thanks for keeping Elsa safe for me. Tell her I miss her too."

"I'll bring her home to you tonight," Sakura promised. "Good luck at the doctor."

“Thanks. Oh… wait a second! Before you hang up, I gotta ask you something.”

“Sure,” she said. “Ask away.”

“Have you seen Seiji?”

“Seiji Hinamori?”

“He’s the only Seiji I know,” I said. “I tried texting him, and he didn’t answer. I told myself not to worry about it, but now that I’m thinking about it…”

“I hear you,” Sakura said. “Actually, now that you mention him, I haven’t seen him in a while. Maybe not since the day you got hurt.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” I said.

“Maybe ask Takahiro if he’s seen him? If anyone knows anything about Seiji, it’ll be Taka.”

“True.”

“Now’s really not the time to get caught up in worrying about Seiji, though,” Sakura said. “What doctor are you seeing today?”

“Dr. Ishida. She’s the eye doctor.”

“That’s your priority.” Her tone of voice was the same one she always uses when we’re reviewing video of my training runs and she wants me to work on something in particular during our next practice. “That, and Yuri.”

“Right,” I said. "It goes without saying that Yuri is my priority. Always."

“Yes, but you need to remember to make yourself a priority sometimes. And you have a tendency to get overwhelmed when there's too much going on, so I'm just reminding you to focus."

"It's scary, how well you know me."

"When I get to your place tonight, we’ll call Taka together, okay? That is, if you don't hear back from Seiji in the meantime. I’ll check with the Recreation Association and see if he’s been at work. I mean, just because I haven’t seen him on the mountain, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been.”

“Thanks, Sakura.”

“It’s no problem,” she said. “I’m hanging up now, but remember what I said. No going off-track.”

“Got it.”

“Good. Tell Yuri I’m thinking about him. I’ll see you later, and hopefully we’ll both have some good news to share.”

[ryebecca]

15 Questions, 15 Mutuals

I was tagged by @mxgyver! ✨

1. are you named after anyone?

I’m named after my great-grandmother, a Holocaust survivor, and my great-great-grandmother who came to this country in the 1920s to escape rampant antisemitism in Europe. Sufficed to say, I’m named after two incredibly strong women. ❤️

2. when was the last time you cried?

Last week. PMS was hitting hard and everything was making me cry!

3. do you have kids?

Nope! Hopefully one day, but until then I dote over the niblings.

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

A lot? Don’t think so. But I’m definitely fluent!

5. what sports do you play/have you played?

None, nada, zilch, zip.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

Eyes, hands, and sense of humor.

7. what’s your eye colour?

Super duper dark brown, to the point where it’s incredibly difficult to dilate my eyes at the ophthalmologist.

8. scary movies or happy endings?

Happy endings! I despise jump scares. 😱

9. any special talents?

I can recite all the monarchs of England in order. Is that special?

10. where were you born?

NEW YAWK CITY 🍎 🗽 ✨

11. what are your hobbies?

Reading, baking, knitting, wandering museums, and seeing Broadway shows on the cheap!

12. do you have pets?

None! I have a tiny apartment and it wouldn’t be fair to a pet.

13. how tall are you?

I’m 5′7 1/2 (I cling onto that last half inch, okay?)

14. favourite subject in school?

English and history! 🤓

15. dream job?

A curator at a major art museum. I currently work in an adjacent field, but I did get to intern at the Met in grad school and it was the BEST experience. 🖼️

no pressure tagging: @wildbornsiren @writercole @blue-aconite @roosterforme @bradshawsbaby @rhettabbotts @bobfloydsbabe @seresinsweetie @withahappyrefrain @rae-gar-targaryen @mothdruid @yanna-banana @antiquitea @fuckyeahhangman @hederasgarden @imjess-themess  @notroosterbradshaw  (oops I tagged more than 15! whatever shall happen?)

[catherineav]

snippet from a post s5 willel wonder twins fic i started a long time ago

Later, the way Hop will proudly tell it, El hadn’t thrown a tantrum like that since fall of ‘84.

But the way she sees it, these doctors are keeping her here in a secluded hospital room, and keeping her away from her brother, when she’s fine. And Will isn’t. 

So her nose bleeds, and the lights flicker, and she screams and cries until a nurse sits her in a chair on wheels and pushes her to Will’s room. 

Jonathan and Joyce are there. They’re both staring at the floor, but they look up in surprise when the nurse hesitantly slides in with El. 

And Hop, a protective shadow behind her. “El said she needed to be here.”

Jonathan slumps back into his chair in relief that they don’t come bearing bad news. Joyce stands straight up and makes as if to take the chair with wheels from the nurse, but El shakes her head and holds out her hands. With a wavering smile, Joyce helps El stand instead. 

It’s only a few steps to Will, but El is exhausted by the time she has managed to pull herself up next to him, curling into his side. She closes her eyes, searching, searching…

“The doctors are keeping him asleep, sweetie,” Joyce says softly. El opens her eyes. Joyce gently wipes a tissue under El’s nose. “Unconscious, for a little longer. So his body can rest after surgery.”

So his body can rest. She tries not to remember the way Vecna tossed him into the air for them all to see. His arm and his leg and his eyes…

“You should rest too, kid.” 

In the cold bed in the white room, a hallway down and a floor above? “No.”

Hop starts to speak, but Joyce cuts him off. “You can stay here, sweet girl. Close your eyes. We won’t let them move you.” 

Her head does hurt like it never has before, and she is more tired than she has ever been. Her arms and legs are like noodles, and her throat burns. 

She doesn’t even really remember choosing to let go, but the nothingness wraps her up like a blanket as her eyes slip closed. 

***

When she wakes up, it is much more quiet, and the lights are dim. True to Joyce’s word, El is still squeezed onto the hospital cot beside Will. 

Someone has stuck one of those needles into her hand again—an IV, Hop said—but Will looks much worse. His right arm is wrapped in a cast all the way up to his shoulder, and she feels the scratch of the same plaster on his ankle, where it is pressed to hers. He has more than just one needle stuck in his skin, and there are deep bruises, people and black, decorating the too-pale skin beneath his eyes. 

It should have been me, she thinks.

Dazed, blinking back tears, El turns her attention to the door, where whispers drift in from the hallway. 

“…be able to slowly wake him up in the morning. Once he’s responsive, we’ll be able to get a better idea of exactly what his recovery process will entail.”

“But he will? Recover?”

A pause. “I don’t want to set your expectations unreasonably high, Mrs. Byers. Between what you have described and Dr. Owens had explained, I expect Will to face more than a couple of obstacles. The physical therapists and ophthalmologists will be able to tell you more tomorrow.”

El rubs the sleep from her eyes, slightly comforted by the rumble of Hop’s voice asking his own follow up question. She eases herself out of the cot, placing a gentle hand on her brother’s shoulder before plucking the needle from her arm and shuffling to the bench in the corner. She needs to get out of this hospital gown. She needs to get out of this hospital gown, and she can see her own clothes crumpled in the bottom of a plastic bag, and—

“Woah, hey kid, what’s wrong?”

It’s only at the feeling of her dad’s palm on her shoulder, steadying and sure, that she realizes she’s shaking. She can’t bring herself to answer, but she allows him to steer her to the bench instead. 

Hop kneels in front of her. Joyce and Jonathan hover behind him. “El?” he asks again. “You with me?”

Her head is still pounding. Closing her eyes briefly, she tugs at the papery elbow of the hospital gown and turns back to him, pleading. 

He frowns, obviously confused, but Joyce steps forward. “She just wants to change,” she says softly. Turning to El, she adds, “The hospital gown—it’s like the lab, isn’t it?”

El nods, unable to keep her eyes from darting around the room now that she’s more awake. 

“Okay,” says Hop, more gently than El can ever remember. “I’m going to go make sure it’s okay. Just because they still had you on the IV. Stay here, yeah?”

She nods again, watching both him and Joyce until they disappear from view around the corner. Jonathan sits down next to her, and she lets him. 

“They’re just going to the nurse’s station. We’re safe here,” says Jonathan. She pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her head on his shoulder, and he lets her. 

***

Later, in the morning, they all hover by Will’s bedside. The nurses have eased back on his sedative, and sometime soon, he’ll wake. 

El climbs back up beside him, and no one stops her. They’d taken to jokingly calling the pair twins, before, but El doesn’t think it’s funny. Vecna chose the two of them, specifically, as his targets. It means something. Only Will and El can explain what it is like to be in the Upside Down alone, hunted, Vecna in their heads, in their hearts… 

Haltingly, filling in each other’s sentences, Joyce, Hopper, and Jonathan fill the gaps in her memory: how they pulled her and Will out of the mindscape and Nancy, Jonathan, and Robin out of the Upside Down. How long it had taken to get help, to get to the hospital. 

El is the first to sense Will. She sits up straight despite the ache that radiates through her sore muscles and stares down at him, desperate for any sign of movement to match what movement she had felt in her mind.

“El?” Jonathan asks sharply. It’s in the half second El glances from one brother to another that Will, with a gasp and a little cough, comes back to them. In his first moment of consciousness, his mouth twists into a grimace and his eyes, cloudy and bloodshot, widen. His voice sounds so small. “I can’t see.”

[artificii-in-ceata]

In which Laurențiu feels very swagless and Mădălina is like "but you are swagful to me tho ❤️❤️❤️"

Transcript:

Laurențiu (putting on eye contacts)

Mădălina: when was the last time you went to an ophthalmologist?

Laurențiu: I can see just fine with my contacts!

Mădălina: didn't you say that you used to wear glasses as a kid?

Laurențiu: umm I don't like where you're going with this. I can't just "wear glasses, I'll look like a huge NERD"

Mădălina: (death stare) nobody neglects their health in this household

[Soon afterwards]

Laurențiu: G? No... O???

Doctor: it's F actually

Laurențiu: well f-

Doctor: (interrupting) now let's try a lense

Mădălina: (looking over the diagnosis) it's a miracle you didn't get into a motor accident so far!!!

Laurențiu (trying on several pairs of glasses): I hate all of them

[The Big Day]

Mădălina: can I open my eyes?

Laurențiu: yeah... there goes my dignity... (glasses reveal) This is the least metal I've ever looked

Mădălina: wow, dramatic much?? You look just fine. No offense but maybe you did need to get off your high horse.

Laurențiu: my ego is kinda wounded indeed

Mădălina: point is that you shouldn't judge others for their looks, not even yourself. (She cups his face in her hands) and even if you don't believe it yet, I still think you're Very Hot!

Laurențiu: aww, thank you honey, that means a lot!

[therivergirl]

So, as part of my mentorship programme, i can do some rotations in specialists' offices at the health centre. Ophtalmology, pulmology, rehabilitation medicine and a few other specialties, but most appealing to me, OBYGYN.

However, to start this, we have to talk to our mentors first. So they could talk us up with some specialist or another so they would take us in. Allegedly, my mentor should also talk to the head of the health centre to arrange this.

My mentor, for all her faults, was never dismissive if I ask her to learn something. Still, my anxious ass was hyping myself up for this conversation for three weeks now.

So, today, during a break:

Me: So, I wanted to talk to you about clinical rotations. *explains how rotations function*.

Mentor: Sure thing kid. I'll talk to someone. As for the head of the centre, pfft, what do I need that pig-headed man for? He'll tell us to figure it out ourselves anyways.

Me: Oh, ok. I'm just telling you what they told me at HR.

Mentor: Yeah, don't worry kid. I have an ophthalmologist appointment next week so I'll talk to the guy. Also, I'm not having you go to the OBYGYN in the office next to ours. She sucks. I'll get you someone else. As for radiology and rehabilitation, you better stick with the OBYGYN for a few weeks instead of taking another rotation. The only doctor that might take you is a bitch, and you know enough about reading X-rays what you'll need in the future already.

That was it. A three-minute conversation and the problem was solved.

I was hyping myself for this for THREE WEEKS!

Why am I like this!?!?!

P.S.: My mentor is probably right about the OBYGYN in the office next to ours, because I heard a lot of bad experiences about her.

[5thand59th]

Reasons I love ophthalmology

I get asked a lot why I chose ophthalmology. Truthfully, the initial reason I chose it was because multiple family friends (including an ophthalmologist) told me it was the best field and that they recommended it. I also really loved one of the ophtho residents and one of the medical students I worked with in medical school and that sort of solidified the decision. But now that I am actually an ophthalmologist there are so many reasons I love it. In no particular order:

1. Work in an office setting. I always knew I preferred being in an office rather than a hospital.

2. We wear so many hats. In ophtho you can see kids and you can see adults. We prescribe medications and we do surgery. We are even radiologists in a way - we read and interpret OCTs, fundus photos, fluorescein angiograms, and even CT scans of the eye and orbit. We even do our own eye ultrasounds.

3. Making a difference. In ophtho there are so many instances where we can truly improve peoples’s vision and improve their quality of life. And when we do that the patients are so grateful and happy, and that makes me happy!

4. Being an expert in one field. This to me was more preferable than knowing a little bit about everything.

5. Variety. In a given day I could see patients with cataract, diabetes, eye trauma, pink eye, glaucoma, macular degeneration, tearing, a stye, and the list goes on. We see unusual and wacky things too like syphilis in the eye or ocular melanoma. I don’t tend to be bored during the day.

6. Eye surgery is fun. It sounds like a weird analogy but it’s almost like playing a video game. In cataract surgery you look through a microscope, open up a shell around a cataract (the “capsule”), break the cataract into small pieces, and aspirate it out. All through a 2.4 millimeter opening!

7. We can diagnose so many things right in the exam room by looking at someone’s eye under the microscope. It’s not like other fields where you need to get blood work or a CT scan for almost every single thing.

8. Getting to know my patients. I love this aspect of ophtho. It is not a field where I see someone once and never see them again. Actually, it’s quite the opposite. The patients I’ve gotten to know have truly enriched my life. I’ve learned so much from them.

[haesi-perpetuo-in-r2]

I’ve been afk for a bit and here’s kinda why. Consider this also as a PSA.

Go to the doctor if you feel something is wrong.

Here’s the story of how I almost went blind in one eye.

Around January/February of this year, I felt something was wrong because my eyes were constantly watering. This had never happened before. I chalked it up to allergies and moved on.

I talked to my allergist and we started an allergy shots treatment. But sadly this would take 3-5 years to fully ramp up. My eyes were still bothering me.

I got put on oral steroids, which worked a bit, but I wasn’t feeling 100% still (something which I neglected to tell anyone). And I couldn’t keep taking those steroids because of side effects. So I coped with my situation at maybe 70%.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks ago, I finally took an appointment with an ophthalmologist and it turns out I have a massive scar in my right eye.

I didn’t notice because my left eye was compensating for my right’s reduced vision. To truly check vision in an eye, you apparently need to cover up the other eye. I also learned that rubbing my eyes wasn’t a good idea and to always use a tissue.

Thankfully, I’m on prescription strength eye drops and I can actually live in peace again. My vision isn’t what it once was (I’m at 20/70 now) and sadly it won’t ever recover to perfect. But I can see and my eyes don’t water. That’s a win out of a really shitty situation.

I thought once I graduated, I could be an “independent adult” so I kept a lot of these symptoms to myself, thinking that I could deal with it. Please don’t do that. Talk to someone. There were so many people, including my own parents, whom I could’ve told, but I was too stubborn to do so.

This scar was in my eye for at least six fucking months. And if at any point I had gone to the ophthalmologist they would’ve caught it so much earlier. And I’m just mad and annoyed at myself for being a stupid kid.

Please, I’m begging anyone who sees this to not suffer in silence. It’s not worth it. It seemed hopeless a lot of the time for me, but now I can confidently say that there’s a path forward.

So to all my mutuals: please take care of yourself.

[4emfox]

Tasteful Was Never My Style

I was born a very free-spirited kid; never a full tomboy, never a full girly girl — though I dabbled in both. However, I was always a tree-huggin’, animal lovin’ hippie. Constantly dirty, always outside, building forts in the woods, and trying my best to connect with the wildlife around me.

As a very free-spirited kindergartner, I saw a beautiful Black woman with teeny, tiny braids in her hair and immediately envisioned myself with the same, little braids — I had never seen anything like them and I was drooling over their uniqueness (context: true diversity was rare where I grew up in Utah). I didn’t just want them. They had become a representation of my authenticity. I had to have them. Needed them.

My mom typically humored my eccentric, harmless requests so she went to the store, bought a bunch of colorful rubber bands, then spent the better part of 2 hours braiding teeny, tiny braids in my hair.

I loved the feeling of power that swelled within me once the braids were complete. Something I had envisioned had come to pass. I couldn’t stop touching them. I was so excited to share my hair with my friends when the carpool came the next morning for kindergarten, I could hardly sleep.

Sleep found me and morning came; I threw on some clothes, packed my backpack, hugged my mom goodbye and shot out the door to hop into the trunk of the station wagon that was waiting for me outside. When I popped into the car, my best friends Teresa and Stephen had already been picked up…and my nemesis, Whitney. Stephen and Teresa were up front which left Whitney and I in the trunk alone (ahem…for those parents who might be freaking out right now, these were open, wagon trunks. Granted, there were no seat belts, but we could breathe — [insert shrug here]).

Upon seeing my hair, Whitney immediately blurted, “I don’t like your hair”. I had never been faced with cattiness before. Ever. For the record, I don’t care if you’re 5 or 95; if you can’t say anything nice (unless it’s completely honest and it’s holding someone accountable for some terrible bullshit they pulled on you and calling them out makes you feel empowered [takes deep breath]), don’t say anything at all. I furrowed my brows and thought for a second — sincerely. I wasn’t angry. Then very honestly and thoughtfully I responded with my squeaky, five-year-old voice, “Well…I like it. My mom likes it. And we don’t really care what you think.”

Right after the Braid Incident, my teachers figured out I couldn’t see shit. I was getting in trouble all the time for chatting to my neighbors because I was nearly legally blind and unable to focus on anything happening at the front of the class. That, and I was going cross-eyed to focus on the board.

My mom took me to a pediatric ophthalmologist, and sure enough, I was severely far-sighted. We started trying on various, tasteful frames — but tasteful was never my style. I then laid my blind eyes upon the most beautiful, weird, exciting sight my eyes had ever “seen”: light opaque pink, Mini-Mouse-themed, thick-as-fuck frames. I had to have them.

I have two words to accurately describe what my intense prescription did to the lenses: coke-bottle. Think Professor Trelawney in the Harry Potter movies. I was a mini version of her. And totally comfortable in those weird-ass shoes.