#also now they can get top surgery together!

[intotheelliwoods]

Some thoughts...

[talkorsomething]

I have Got to get more transgender

[fairybumpkin]

ooo love is kinda complicated ain't it. wasn't expecting it

[medicasino]

ive just accepted im just never going to fit cleanly into any label or community ever

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[pathologicalreid]

extraordinary measures | s.r.

in which your life hangs in the balance after a brutal attack, and Spencer has to hold himself together for the sake of you and your baby

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: fetal abduction, potentially inaccurate medical information, entirely from spencer's pov, very violent crime, mom!reader, hospitals, medication, spencer lashes out at jj, rossi's son. word count: 4.41k a/n: the people said dad!spencer angst and i delivered. also! trying something new with formatting my posts. i pay for canva pro and need to get my money's worth.

The hospital staff had moved them into a conference room, giving the BAU more space to spread out – and so Spencer’s pacing wouldn’t disturb the other people in the waiting room. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. Not to us. Not to me. Not to her.

The statistics on fetal abduction were alarming. Before today, there had only been thirteen cases since Spencer had joined the BAU. Today alone, there had been two.

“Excuse me,” an unfamiliar voice said, followed by two knocks on the door, “I’m so sorry, but have you had the chance to fill out some of the forms that we gave you?”

Answering for him, Penelope grabbed the clipboard off of the table and passed it to the nurse, “The insurance card is on the top,” she informed the nurse. Nervously, the blonde looked between the medical professional and Spencer, “Is there any update?”

The nurse cringed slightly, “I don’t have one. I’ll see if they can send someone to talk to you.” She nodded assuredly before peeling out of the room.

“Can I get you anything?” Garcia asked helplessly. He had already been given tea, water, coffee, and a sandwich, but he didn’t want any of it.

Shaking his head numbly, Spencer dragged his hands down his face as he replayed the events of this morning in his head.

He wasn’t even supposed to be working, you were due any day now, but Emily had called him with the case and gave him the choice of working. He was supposed to go with you to the check-up, but you had encouraged him to go save a life.

The woman who had been found this morning had her abdomen crudely cut open and her baby was born via a botched cesarean section, but her baby was too premature and didn’t make it. They were both found in an alley near the hospital by a garbage man. Then, while he and Luke were at the medical examiner’s office, his phone started to ring.

You had been discovered, bleeding out, outside of your obstetrician’s office, and if you hadn’t been so close to a building full of doctors, you probably wouldn’t have made it as far as surgery right now. The fact that you had been brought to surgery should have been enough to give him hope, but he hasn’t been raised to be hopeful, he was raised to be pragmatic. The reality of the situation was that in cases of fetal abduction, the mothers rarely made it out the other side.

He was left with Garcia to keep him company, she stayed as a watchdog, mainly looking through traffic footage on her laptop as she made sure Spencer didn’t go entirely off the rails. “You’re going to burn a hole in the floor,” she said offhandedly, begging Spencer to just sit down for a moment.

With a huff, he took a seat next to Penelope, leaning his head back on the taupe drywall, “I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

“We’re going to wait, we are not going to catastrophize, and we will listen to any and all updates that the doctors give us,” she said determinedly, nodding her head as she did so. “We only know what we know and assuming the worst will just lead to feeling worse.”

Closing his eyes, he agreed, listening to the bustle of the hospital from inside the secluded, makeshift waiting space. He wished he knew more about your status when you came in, there were the crime scene photos – which Penelope was under strict orders not to show him – and a quick mention from a resident about blood loss, but nothing else.

“Dr. Reid?” A new voice said, snapping him out of his stupor as he rose to his feet, staring at the doctor who came in with his scrub cap on, “I’m afraid there isn’t much news. Things are still touch and go. They’re hopeful that they can get the bleeding under control, once they do that, we’ll know more. I’ll come out and let you know, alright?”

With the doctor leaving, Garcia reopened her laptop, “You see? We can’t assume the worst because we just don’t know enough yet.”

“Garcia,” he interrupted, hopeful for just a moment of silence to digest the new information – if you could even call it that.

Nodding succinctly, she returned to her work, “Right, okay.”

With the arrival of JJ, Penelope left to check in at the office, and since a profiler was bound to know more information, he asked JJ for an update. His baby had to be almost three hours old now, and he knew nothing about them.

He was left disappointed, there was no information on the UnSub or the baby, “What’s the point of it anyway?”

“Everyone is working on it, Spence. No one is going to rest until this case is closed,” JJ tried to reassure him.

Spencer wasn’t sure he was ever truly going to rest again, “Where is someone supposed to go with a newborn baby? The umbilical cord has to be still attached.” Statistically, women were more likely to commit cesarean abductions, and they usually did so after the loss of their own child or because they told someone they were pregnant and needed to produce a baby. “No one can tell me anything about my child, JJ, don’t you understand that? Can’t you try to understand how that feels?”

Bracing herself, JJ nodded, “You’re angry, I get it, you-“

“No, you don’t. My wife is bleeding out in surgery, and I have no fucking clue where our baby is. I have never met them. I don’t know if I have a son or a daughter or if they’re alive and you have the nerve to tell me that you ‘get it’?” He peered over at the blonde profiler. You should’ve been the first person to hold your baby, and instead, you might never live to find out what happened to you.

She was silent for a moment, “You’re right. I- I can’t even begin to process what you’re feeling right now, but all we can do is keep working on the case.”

Dropping his head in his hands, Spencer shook his head, “Then go work on the case,” he insisted, “I don’t… I need to be alone right now.”

Just as the four-hour mark approached, the glass door opened again, and David Rossi walked in.

“Are you here to lecture me?” Spencer asked, his voice raspy from crying in the solitude of the room, he wondered if JJ had told everyone how he lashed out at her.

Crossing one leg over the other, Rossi answered, “Nope,” he said, popping the last syllable. “I’m just here to sit and wait, same as you, kid.”

Nodding, Spencer leaned his head back and closed his eyes as a protection against the fluorescent lights of the hospital, “How did you manage?”

There were some things – life events – that were left unspoken in the BAU. Traumas that people didn’t want uncovered, horrors that the team didn’t need to relive, but Spencer needed answers, and this was the only way he could think to get them. “Manage what?”

“Losing your son,” he answered, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he kept his eyes closed, wondering if he too would lose a child. Birth and death within the same day.

Clearing his throat, Rossi took a moment before responding, and Spencer wasn’t sure if he was appalled at the question or if he simply wasn’t sure how to respond, “Well, I’m not sure I ever really did. Not for a long time, at least,” he admitted.

Digesting the information, Spencer shifted in his seat, “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Everyone just keeps telling me to wait, but…” he chuckled to himself, “Y/N always jokes that if patience is the companion of wisdom, then I have to be the exception.”

He had always been told to wait. Wait for his turn. Wait for the perfect person to show up. He had waited, and he had gotten you, but all of that waiting had led him here. In this beige room where he had signed papers asking doctors to use extraordinary measures to try and save your life.

“Dr. Reid?” One of the doctors from earlier called his name, knocking on the glass door. Instinctively, Spencer stood up, wiping his hands on his pants and looking at the doctor expectantly, “Oh, please,” the doctor said, “Take a seat.”

Hesitantly, Spencer lowered himself back down into the hospital chair, he couldn’t help but feel like that was a bad sign.

“All things considered, your wife is very, very lucky,” the doctor informed him, “She’s not fully out of the woods yet, but they’re setting her up in recovery right now. I’m just waiting on a message from my colleague, and then I’ll be able to bring you up to see her.”

A flurry of questions flew through his mind at once, “What are you still concerned about?” He asked, leaning over and resting his elbows on his knees.

Nodding, the doctor continued, “Y/N lost a lot of blood in the attack. When you factor in the trauma of having a baby and a four-hour surgery, there’s a lot of healing that has to happen, and right now she doesn’t have the strength for it.” His phone chimed, and Spencer jolted, trying not to get his hopes up if it wasn’t about you, “Come with me,” the doctor said.

Rossi offered to let the rest of the team know and Spencer rambled off a random confirmation as he followed the doctor through the doorway, feeling like he was floating. As they walked through the hospital, Spencer grew more and more anxious.

Your hand was cold. In fact, your hand was so cold that Spencer asked the doctor to turn the volume on your vital monitor up so that he could have the constant reassurance that you were alive.

Blood was being transfused still, he had already forgotten the doctor’s estimate on just how much blood you had lost, but if he had the urge to read through your medical chart, he was sure he could find out. The only problem was, ever since the doctor left, he hadn’t been able to do anything except stare.

Every once in a while, he pinched your index finger, testing the capillary refill time out of his own morbid curiosity while blood was being returned to your body. Agents and officers stood outside of your hospital room in a steady rotation. The BAU wasn’t sure if your life was still in danger, but they weren’t willing to take any risks.

There were countless law enforcement personnel involved in this case now, if not directly investigating the case, they were at least contributing to the search. The Manassas Field Office, DC Metro, the Maryland Police – they were all out there looking. Out the window, he could see news reporters gathering out front to start their afternoon broadcasts.

It had been four hours. Four hours and there was still no word on the baby or the UnSub. The baby would need to eat soon, and Spencer found himself depending on the UnSub to have had the forethought to take care of the newborn.

Every couple of minutes, you would mumble something in your sleep, and he willed you to stay asleep. Selfishly, he wanted you to stay asleep until he knew the baby was safe – until he knew he could have something good to tell you.

Penelope was stationed right outside the door. She likely thought he hadn’t noticed her return, but the clicking of her keyboard gave her away.

Infrequently, his phone buzzed in his pocket, and he tried not to concern himself with it. Garcia had made contact with your mom, being sure to reach out to your family before any other news hit the airwaves.

He adjusted the way the nasal cannula rested on your face before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles and resting your cold fingers against his cheek, as if his face had the capacity to warm your whole body. Briefly, he wondered if the team would be willing to have a desk agent bring you a blanket from home.

The team would probably find a way to get him a helicopter if he requested it.

Flowers and cards flowed into your hospital room, arriving from people who knew you to people who had seen your story on the news. He had to look away when a small stuffed elephant was delivered by a nurse, knowing that the baby it belonged to was nowhere to be found.

Much to his surprise, he looked away from the stuffed animal just to find you looking back at him. The sorrow in your eyes a staggering reflection of that which could be found in his own. One glance at you and he knew that there was no need for him to break the news to you – you were well aware.

Spencer remained wholly silent as a slew of medical professionals filtered in and out of the room, a cacophony of directives and questions sent your way as tears filled your waterline. He captured your hand in both of his, holding your hand like it was a lifeline to everything he knew as the truth. He was here, you were here, and you were both alive. Tethered to you in the woven web of life, he refused to falter. Not now. Not when you needed him the most.

He answered the questions that you didn’t know the answers to and watched, tight-lipped, as your doctor kept you informed. Dr. Lasher was picking and choosing from your chart, telling you anything pertinent, and leaving out anything that she thought could wait for later.

Once the doctor had cleared through an extensive list of maladies, everyone let you have the room. “Darling,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to adjust the way your hospital gown rested on your shoulder, covering some of the exposed wires.

“There are no leads?” You asked tentatively, the pain in your voice exacerbated by the swelling caused by the breathing tube you’d had during surgery. Your eyes were glassy, and Spencer didn’t know if it was from sorrow or pain or fear. It was a question he was afraid to ask.

He shook his head, “Not yet, but everyone’s looking,” he fed you the same reassurances that had been given to him. The same reassurances that he hadn’t believed.

You moved your hands, laying your palms flat on the sterile white sheets and starting to push yourself up, only to be met with Spencer’s hands guiding you back down to the pillows. “I’ve gotta go,” you mumbled, “I wanna help. Spence, please let me help.” Fresh tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him in desperation.

The way your bottom lip quivered was what broke him, he tilted his head to the side, “You can help just fine from right here, okay?” He looked out into the hallway, wondering which member of the team was around for you to talk to. “I’ll be right back,” he told you, squeezing your hand before retreating to the hallway, never letting you out of his line of sight.

“Hey,” Penelope greeted, the compassion in her voice giving him pause, “How is she?”

Exhausted, terrified, in pain – all applicable at the moment. Spencer thought about answering for a moment before skipping Garcia’s question entirely, “Who’s around for a cognitive?”

You didn’t quite have the energy for a full interview, but you were so adamant about helping that he couldn’t refuse you, not today. “JJ’s one floor up, do you want me to call her for you?”

He thought about it for a moment, he hadn’t handled his last interaction with JJ with the most care, but you needed someone to talk to and it couldn’t be him. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Please.”

Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, smoothing your hair as he tried to comfort you. In all of the time he’d known you, he’d never need you so defeated.

Not much came out during your cognitive with JJ, either there was a mental block in the way or you hadn’t seen much when you were attacked. Whichever one it was, Spencer was fighting himself internally on whether or not he should be thankful.

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer murmured, keeping his voice low as you fought off sleep. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he cooed, “You need to rest.”

You fought sleep with everything you had in you, which wasn’t much anymore. The cognitive interview had gone too long. Your nurse was the one who put her foot down and ended it, even when you wanted to keep going. “It’s not fair,” you cried, slow tears making their way down your cheeks.

Very slowly, Spencer could feel his heart breaking as your exhaustion and desolation worked together to make you as miserable as possible, “I know, lovey. I know,” he assured you as tears filled his eyes.

Glassy eyes looked up at him, “I just wanted to be a mom,” you whispered, your speech slurred with sleep.

Letting his own tears fall to the white sheets of your hospital bed, Spencer nodded, “You are a mom.”

He didn’t add anything. He didn’t have it in him to make a grandiose speech about how you would always be your baby’s mother, and, luckily, he didn’t need to. Your eyes finally fell shut, final tears falling from your face as Spencer found himself grateful that sleep finally took you.

Never leaving your side, Spencer pulled the chair back up next to you, resting his chin on your bed's armrest and watching you sleep. Very slowly, color was beginning to return to your face, yet you still looked so different from when he had left the house that morning.

Unsure how long it had been, Spencer shot up straight when Penelope came rushing to the doorway, placing a finger to his lips, he nodded toward your sleeping form. Even so, the technical analyst waved him over.

Carefully, he slipped his hand out of yours and walked around your bed to Penelope, “What is it?”

Tears filled the blonde’s eyes as she looked up at him, she put both of her hands on his upper arms and cried, “They found your baby. It- they’re pulling up to the ambulance bay right now.”

Spencer’s lips parted in shock, having fully prepared himself for the day to end in undeniable heartbreak. “Are- is the baby okay?”

Penelope nodded, “They’re going up to the NICU right now to get checked out but apparently the EMTs said the baby looks completely unharmed.”

Turning to look at you, still asleep on the bed, Spencer gave Penelope a quick embrace before returning to your bedside, “Sweetheart,” he whispered, trying to wake you up from sleep that you still needed. “Honey,” he said, gently cupping your cheek with his hands as your eyes fluttered open.

You hummed groggily, squinting up at him under the fluorescence of the hospital.

“The baby’s here,” he murmured to you, making sure you didn’t jump up at his words. “They’re headed up to the NICU for a quick check, and-“

“Go,” you cut him off, your eyes wide and full of tears. “Please go hold them, Spence,” you cried, voice rough with sleep.

His shoulders slouched forward slightly, looking between you and Penelope in the doorway, “I’ll stay here,” Penelope offered immediately. “You go, I’ll stay.”

You nodded up at him, closing your eyes as he bent forward to press a kiss to your hairline. “I love you,” you breathed, placing a hand on your chest as if it would slow your racing heart.

“I love you too,” he responded before stepping out of the hospital room, following the directions that Penelope had given him in order to get up to the NICU.

Adrenaline made his stomach churn as he approached the NICU, wondering what he’d say to the people there until someone recognized him as The Dad. He still had to scrub his hands, but they let him through until he saw the bassinet. Even more, he saw the tiny baby kicking its legs inside of the acrylic container.

Emily stood by on high alert, ready to pounce on anyone who even looked at the baby funny, and Spencer just couldn’t stop staring. “Come here,” one of the NICU nurses said to him, obviously having been brought up to speed on the situation. With a smile on her face, she told him, “It’s a girl.”

“A girl,” he breathed, walking right up to the side of the bassinet.

The nurse nodded and adjusted the hat on her head, just slightly too big for the newborn’s head, “If you want, we can get you set up in a chair here, and you can give her a bottle.”

“Please,” he responded, earning another smile from the nurse, who had him take the crying baby in his arms before handing him the prepared bottle.

It broke his heart to watch how quickly she took to the bottle; he still wasn’t sure if she had eaten anything until this. He knew the nipple wouldn’t let her take in too much at a time, but in his subconscious, he was still worried about it being too much for her.

He rocked gently, “Hi, honey,” he cooed down at her.

“She’s a good eater,” the nurse observes, writing something down on a piece of paper. “We’ll keep an eye on her for just a little while, but we know how badly she needs to get down to her mama.”

Setting the now empty bottle down, Spencer looked up at the nurse, “Is she okay?”

The nurse nodded at his concern, “She’s on the small size, but she’s full term. Of course, not everything is going to be noticeable right away, but we did a full newborn exam on her and all of the tests say she’s a perfectly healthy baby.” She looked on as Spencer gently cupped the baby’s head, “Does she have a name?”

You and Spencer had made a deal, he would pick a boy’s name, and you would pick a girl’s name. Smiling softly, he murmured her name to her for the first time, “Genevieve,” he answered. A big name for such a small baby, maybe, but it was the name you had chosen.

He started making his way back down to you, feeling like he was floating through the taupe hallways of the hospital before he finally made it back to your room. Penelope excused herself when he emerged in the hallway.

“Spence,” you whispered, looking up at him with hope in your eyes for the first time since you had woken up after surgery.

Smiling at you, he sat on the edge of your bed, “Five pounds and fifteen ounces. Seventeen and a half inches long. Perfectly healthy.” He glanced behind him as he heard the wheels of the bassinet coming toward your room, turning back to watch your reaction as you saw your baby for the first time.

He was glad for his eidetic memory, he’d never want to forget the way your face lit up with recognition, “Oh, a girl.”

With the baby settled on your chest, there was nothing better for the two of you to do than watch her sleep. Every once in a while, she’d coo or squawk and immediately capture your every attention all over again. “How are you feeling?” Spencer asked you. The blood transfusions had been completed, leaving you on a course of broad-spectrum antibiotics, fluids, and lots of pain medication – two of which prevented you from breastfeeding. Although, because of her size and traumatic birth, the NICU doctor suggested that some formula would help her grow properly.

You hummed contentedly, “Tired. I hurt just about everywhere,” you admitted, not taking your eyes off of your newborn. “I’m so… just grateful,” you whispered, “Is that odd?”

“No,” he shook his head, “I know exactly what you mean.” For as terrible and horrifying as the entire ordeal was, it could’ve been much worse. He almost lost both of his girls in one day.

“Does the team want to meet her?” You asked, worried about entertaining guests with the baby.

Spencer chuckled softly, keeping his index finger pointed within Genevieve’s reach, testing her palmar reflex, “I’m sure they do, but we’ll wait and see how you feel tomorrow and revisit. Okay?”

Your head bobbed in confirmation, watching as your daughter very slowly woke up, “Hi, Vie,” you greeted her quietly, gently rubbing her back with your fingertips. You didn’t have the strength to fully hold her, but she was more than happy to just lay on you, “Sweet, sleepy girl.”

“Do you want me to take her, and you can get some sleep?” Spencer offered, noticing the way you were trying to hide a yawn from him. “We aren’t going anywhere, we’ll stay right here in this chair,” he reassured you based on the apprehensive look you were giving him.

Slowly, you nodded, helping as best you could and pouting in sympathy when Genevieve – Vie – cried out at the sensation of being moved from her warm spot on her mother’s chest to the warm spot in her father’s arms. Thankfully, the newborn calmed down just as soon as Spencer settled her in his arms, “Don’t go,” you whispered, letting your eyes fall shut as you allowed sleep to wash over you.

He hummed, “We won’t,” he muttered in response.

Sleep took you with little resistance, leaving him with Genevieve in the silence of the hospital room – save for all of the machines that you were still hooked up to.

She wouldn’t be up for much longer herself – newborns spent most of their day sleeping – so Spencer took his opportunity to watch her eyes wander around the hospital room. “You can go back to sleep too, little love. I’ll watch over the both of you,” he spoke to her in a reverent tone and adjusted the hat on her head.  “I’ll keep you safe, Vie. No harm will come to you, not as long as I’m your dad.”

[dee-the-red-witch]

Okay, this is it.

It's been ten years of fucked-up, and it's been ramping up more and more over the last three since I came out. Between getting used emotionally and financially to be the sole support for this family, Getting harmed daily by a kid that I want to love and support but who can't understand who this stranger is that replace his dad and more and more things on top of it. To the point where I've had no resources, barely any energy to work or function, and near constantly hit adrenaline rush responses at random loud noises. But things are moving forward. Monday, my son moves into care that's well-equipped for him, and they'll be better for him than I ever will be at this point or any time in the future. My oldest kid is old enough to be independent and start doing their own thing enough to get out of here. I don't have to worry about or protect them.

I can get out. Just move, on my own, find a safe place and rest and heal. Finally. Just, I have zero resources to do it with. The last decade has fucked my credit and rental history badly, I'm sure, as well. Which means finding a place within my normal budget and sweetening the pot by pre-paying as many extra months as I can. Plus that way I can be covered for housing during my transition surgery recoveries, since this family and apartment managed to drain every last cent from my transition fund to keep from becoming unhoused. And it'll mean me having to do a lot less asking for support and help, because I won't be supporting four people on one income any longer. But all of that means I need to get money together. Quick. And a lot. At least 5k, if not closer to ten. So, yeah, I'm asking for help again. To donate: http://paypal.me/tormentedartifacts

If you want to get something in return for helping, there's also always http://tormentedartifacts.com but I'll be clear. Anything big ordered right now is likely not happening until after I move, if not after my surgery recovery, since I won't be able to sit fully upright or work for a big chunk of that. Which means you may not see it until next year.

But anything helps. Please. Even just five bucks. And so does reblogging and sharing this wherever you can. So, if you do, thanks.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Icy II

Mapi León x Ingrid Engen x Teen!Reader

Summary: You think about your life

When you first moved from Norway and your childhood team of SK Brann, you weren't quite sure what to expect.

You were nervous and anxious and that didn't settle at all even as you headed out of the airport to meet up with Ingrid.

You'd like to think you knew Ingrid fairly well, or at least well enough that she was letting you take her spare room. You'd been called up for the past three Norway camps, though you hadn't actually set foot on the pitch.

You'd come up through Brann's Academy, the top assister in the under-nineteen team and had even been called up to the first team on occasion.

That's where you think Barcelona heard of you because suddenly the La Masia version of your youth team was making the long trek to cold Norway in the height of winter to play a friendly.

They completely demolished your team but you had been serving perfect assists into the box those scant few times you had possession of the ball.

It wasn't even a week later that they were offering you a contract. You'd assumed it was for the B team but clearly the club saw something in you because the contract was for the first team and soon you were flying over to Spain to move in with Ingrid.

She wasn't alone as you approached her car, talking to a woman you recognised as Mapi León.

You didn't speak Spanish, that much was always obvious. You only spoke passable English as well so communication with your new teammates was something that was at the front of your mind.

But Mapi just smiled at you and sounded out a sentence she had clearly memorised in Norwegian to help settle you.

You liked Mapi, you decided in the instant and decided that you would actually try hard in your Spanish lessons so you could communicate with her properly without Ingrid as the go between.

You had a day or two to settle in your new home but ultimately meeting your new teammates had come along too quickly for your liking.

You knew Ingrid, of course. You kind of knew Mapi.

You knew Caro as well. You usual position was hers so you had worked closely at Norway camp together.

She'd come out to meet you, Ingrid and Mapi in the car park.

Caro existed on your wavelength. You were both quiet and a little socially awkward. You both played the same position. You understood each other.

You weren't huggers though. You had never really received a lot of affection as a kid, just a quick head pat when you exceeded your parents' already high expectation for you.

You weren't a hugger. Caro wasn't a hugger but the way her arm rested over your shoulders was support enough.

Meeting the team was something that sent you into a bit of a tailspin. All those world class players and you.

If Ingrid hadn't been behind you, a gentle hand pushing you forward, you were sure that you would have bolted.

She was a steady presence then and now as she lays in bed with you.

You think she feels bad about yelling at you. You think she also feels bad about not getting a hold of your parents until hours after the incident. If you hadn't been in unimaginable pain, you would have warned Ingrid that your parents rarely answered if it wasn't a formal email.

Ingrid's been stuck to you since you woke up, waiting hand and foot on you. You feel bad about that. It's just a broken wrist. It was just a little surgery. You don't need her to cater to your every need. You don't want to bother her like that.

"Have the painkillers kicked in yet?"

With your wrist still strapped up, you couldn't feel much pain apart from when it moved so Ingrid had dosed you up on as much medication as possible.

She'd done the same with Mapi an hour ago so her girlfriend was currently asleep in bed while Ingrid waits for the same to happen to you.

"Mmm," You grunt.

"That's not an answer," She teases," Have they kicked in yet?"

You try to tilt your wrist, a little hard to do in your cast but you still try. "Mostly. A little twinge."

You can feel Ingrid nod behind you.

"I think it's naptime."

"I'm not a baby."

"Mapi's napping. Is she a baby?"

You don't even have to think. "Yes."

Ingrid laughs behind you, hands untangling the knots in your hair. "The doctor said that a nap would probably help."

You huff.

You've never been much of a napper. You always liked to be doing something even if that something was cleaning up your room or reading a book.

"Fine."

You roll over on your side to lay your head against Ingrid's chest as her arm comes up around you to keep you close.

The door opens and Mapi limps in, laying her crutches on the ground to crawl into bed on Ingrid's other side.

She yawns.

"You didn't tell me we were having a sleepover," She complains sleepily, pulling some of the blankets away from you.

"We weren't." The painkillers have fully kicked in now so you're drowsy as well.

You know you and Mapi are talking but it's all jumbled up in your brain.

Ingrid feels the moment you go to sleep, the steady train of nonsense coming out of your mouth slows down and you go completely limp.

Mapi falls asleep soon after as well, her yapping coming to a close mid sentence as you both snooze comfortably on her chest.

This wasn't quite the plan.

Get Mapi to sleep.

Get you to sleep.

Then make dinner.

That was the plan but you're both crowded around Ingrid's body on your little bed that barely fits you all and Ingrid doesn't want to move and wake you.

Bagheera jumps onto the bed.

"Don't," Ingrid laughs but Bagheera ignores her.

She settles comfortably in Ingrid's stomach and falls asleep too, leaving Ingrid well and truly pinned down.

It's fine, she decides.

Both you and Mapi are out of hospital.

You can just order food when everyone's awake.

[tinycoffeeroom]

end of beginning | carlos sainz

face claim: none ᡣ𐭩

requests: here !

tags: angst, break up (rebeccarlos ily pls this is just for the story)

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

september 2023

👤 carlossainz, charles_leclerc liked by carlossainz, chares_leclerc and 70,385 others

y/nstagram boyfie won another race but looking at the second pic, i may be the real winner ❤️

carlossainz princesa, contigo a mi lado, siempre soy el ganador (princess, with you by my side, i'll always be a winner) ↳ y/nstagram stop you'll make me blush 🤭

charles_leclerc stop being gross and in love on my feed ↳ y/nstagram carlossainz should we kiss in front of him again xx ↳ carlossainz sin duda ❤️ (definitely) ↳ charles_leclerc i hate it here

user1 i want to be y/n when i grow up (i am 2 years older than her) ↳ y/nstagram then it should be i wanna be user1 when i grow up 😘 also where is your top from in your pfp, i love it!! ↳ user1 ??? im in love with you ??? it's from this little boutique near my house! i can send you one!!! ↳ y/nstagram omg i will send you the money!! 🫶

user2 this is why we stan y/n, a true girls girl ❤️ ♥️ y/nstagram

francisca.cgomes even the back of you is gorgeous ↳ y/nstagram kiss me. ↳ francisca.cgomes come here 😘 ↳ pierregasly i miss when my girlfriend was only My girlfriend ↳ y/nstagram not my fault she upgraded x ↳ pierregasly i will take carlos out on the first corner don't try me ↳ carlossainz you'll have to catch me first hombre

january 2024

liked by kellypiquet, francisca.cgomes and 39,495 others

y/nstagram bed rotting but make it 🎀 aesthetic 🎀

user1 she still watches f1 y/nsainzers there's hope ↳ user2 she hasn't been to a race in months :((( hope is dwindling

user3 the bear i'm gonna scream, cry AND throw up ↳ user4 what's the significance of the bear?? i'm new to f1 :) ↳ user3 carlos got y/n the bear when he joined f1 so she would have something to remember him by when he went away on race weekends ↳ user4 and she still has it?? it must have been like 10 years ago?? ↳ user3 roughly around that!! 2015 if i'm correct...

kellypiquet i see the red bull on your screen 😉 would love to have you back with me in the paddock, P misses her bestie ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram P saw me last week when i spoilt her rotten in the mall but i may take you up on that offer ❤️

user2 y/n in the red bull garages??? y/nsainzers i fear we've lost her... ↳ user1 carlos may be moving to red bull don't give up hope best friend!

march 2024

liked by charles_leclerc, scuderiaferrari and 924,495 others

carlossainz P1 in Australia :) thank you for the well wishes guys, maybe my appendix was what was holding me back 😉🎉

landonorris booking the surgery rn ↳ carlossainz you still wouldn't win muppet ↳ landonorris wow carlos... low blow

user1 the last pic... pls say it's y/n PLEASEEEEEEEEEE acc on my knees rn ↳ user2 i'm down there with you best friend

iamrebeccad congrats mister!! next up: the world championship ♥️ carlossainz

user3 ^^ um guys ↳ user2 don't ↳ user1 don't.

charles_leclerc i'll get you next time... ↳ carlossainz ok charlie, i believe you

scuderiaferrari forza carlos! congrats on P1, not even surgery could keep you down 💪 ↳ user5 you bitches don't deserve to celebrate

maxverstappen1 strong fight there mr sainz! looking forward to japan where i'll be back on top! ↳ carlossainz fuck you This comment has been deleted

user3 UM GUYS??????? ↳ user2 do not look at f1wagupdates i'm being so serious ↳ user1 well now i have to FUCK

liked by user8, user9 and 93,283 others

f1wagupdates Carlos Sainz seen kissing Scottish model Rebecca Donaldson following his Australia GP win. He was previously linked to long time girlfriend Y/N L/N but the pair haven't been seen together since December last year. We guess this marks the end of their decade long relationship.

user2 carlos sainz i'm in your walls.

user1 man, fuck carlos sainz

user3 3 months ?? if that ?? glad his appendix burst ↳ user2 reports (twitter) are saying R + C were first seen together in January... ↳ user3 the c*rlos s*inz voodoo doll is being made as we speak.

user4 all men do is lie. what happened to "until the end of time"... i don't believe in love anymore

user5 i feel so bad for rebecca, y/n's so loved by the paddock and the fans ↳ user3 obvs no hate to rebecca, she's gorgeous and i'm sure she's lovely, this is solely carlos hate ♥️ user1, user2 and 19,349 others

user6 bro fumbled the bag with y/n man

👤 kellypiquet, maxverstappen1, landonorris, redbullracing liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and 58,395 others

y/nstagram different point of view 💙

redbullracing pleasure to have you back in the paddock y/n! see you in japan? 👀 ↳ y/nstagram i'll be there best friends (pls stock up on coconut red bulls) 🫶 ↳ redbullracing 🫡

kellypiquet the last pic?? i love you so much?? ↳ y/nstagram y'all are so cute i couldn't stop myself 🤭

maxverstappen1 thanks for coming y/n! i've missed seeing you around ↳ y/nstagram missed you too maxie! P says she wants me to come to every race so you may be stuck with me this year! ↳ maxverstappen1 just please don't steal my girlfriend ↳ y/nstagram she may be your girlfriend but she's My wife ♥️ kellypiquet

francisca.cgomes why didn't you tell me you were coming!! i would have ditched pierre :(( ↳ pierregasly everyday i wake up ↳ y/nstagram unfortunately ↳ pierregasly bro...

landonorris you got the champagne shot in action! missed seeing you around bug! ↳ y/nstagram had to see it with my own two eyes! congrats on the podium lan, you so deserve it ❤️ ↳ landonorris let's get dinner tomorrow, it's been too long ↳ user1 mr norizz shooting his shot on main damn ↳ landonorris 🤷‍♂️

carmenmmundt all the girls are getting together for dinner and drinks, you coming babe? ↳ y/nstagram i'm having dinner with kelly, max and P but i'll join for drinks after ❤️

user2 goodbye goodbye y/nsainzer's you were brighter than the whole sky ↳ user3 y/n deserves the world, if That Man couldn't give it to her that's on him.

june 2024

👤 kellypiquet, carmenmmundt, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, lilymhe liked by kellypiquet, carmenmmundt and 58,029 others

y/nstagram healing ❤️

Comments on this post have been turned off.

[thebibliosphere]

Hey! I know that this isn't something you struggle with but since a lot of your other followers are disabled as well, it would mean a lot to me if you could publish this ask since I'd like to see if anyone else experiences anything similar to what I'm going through. I'm not asking for anyone to armchair diagnose me, I'd just appreciate not feeling so alone and scared and confused. My general physician is claiming that my anxiety is causing the issues I'll describe but I call bullshit on that:

About two years ago, cca 4 months after my top surgery, my body stopped being able to process oil. Whenever I'd eat anything that was made with oil of any kind, I'd get cramps in the abdomen after a while and I'd get diarrhea. Caffeine started to do this also but in a smaller intensity. I had a hysterectomy a bit after that and they checked my kidneys and liver so I know that those are both ok and not the cause. I also got checked for Celiac since it runs in the family. Because the issue wasn't getting worse and my then general physician was always dismissive, I let it be. When I wasn't having diarrhea, I was constipated, though I did have a bowel movement like once or twice a week. Fast forward to now. In August, it suddenly got a lot worse. At first, even a single drop of oil would make me feel ill. Then, the time period got longer - currently the cramps and the pain last for 48 hours afterwards. I also became unable to digest animal fats, the only meat I can eat is lean chicken and fish. Afterwards, gluten became an issue (Celiac is still negative), and then nuts as well.

My new GP, even though she believes it to be anxiety, gave me Itopride, and it worked for about 3 weeks - I had no cramps, pain, exhaustion, gas or bloating after eating, and I had a bowel movement once a day. But it stopped working two days ago, again without a reason, and the effects started being less effective about a week ago. Even when taking the meds, I have a movement only once in about 8 days, and laxatives make me gassy but nothing happens. I'm also not sure about this, but it seems that chicken is no longer safe either.

I think it's important that if I don't take Itopride, I never even feel the urge to go, so when I say that I've always been constipated, I mean that I don't even feel the need to have a movement. Lately, when I take Itopride, I do get the urge that I do always get when taking it, but it's like I can't go, so I always feel full.

I just feel super scared and I have no idea what's going on. I admit that I have a history of eating disorders (in recovery since May) and I did abuse laxatives about a year ago, but I don't think it was enough to cause such serious issues? I used to take them like once a week and for about 3-4 months.

I'd really appreciate knowing if anyone has ever experienced anything similar or knows about anything like this because I feel like my life is in shambles - can't go outside for long because I might need the toilet suddenly, or I'm in too much pain to walk, I'm afraid to eat, I often feel repulsive, I don't know what might happen in a month, I am becoming incapable of taking care of myself and my flat because I'm just so goddamn tired.

Ooft, I’m sorry. It sounds like you’ll need a colonoscopy to figure this one out, so if you haven’t had one yet, really push for a referral.

Fwiw, I do experience something like this, but it’s from mast cell inflammation in my GI tract. The doc prescribed me bentyl for when things flare up but I’m also on a fiber supplement (citrucel. It’s a lot gentler than other types) to try and keep that from happening. Also if you’re low on b vitamins, your stomach sometimes stops digesting food, so maybe also ask about getting your levels checked. Taking an additional b2 supplement means I can process fats and oils again which I couldn’t before.

I’m not saying this to be like “this is what you have” just throwing them out there as suggestions that might help you piece together what might be wrong.

I hope you get more helpful comments in the notes 💖

[navillee]

Zayne's subtle sub behavior pt II

I see. I guess I'm sharing my braindump about sub Zayne here now on. Enjoy.

• Zayne always asks your opinion about his fashion choices. That's a habit he created, wanting to look like an eye candy for you. To invite your eyes to linger on him more because he loves the feeling of you devouring him from distance while he talks to his colleagues, or even when he's at an academic symposium, not batting an eye on everyone else's thirsting over him, but anxious thinking what are going to be your plans when the two of you meet at some isolated private room at the end of the lecture.

• Make sure to point out every little detail he put on his fashion. Even better: tease him about it. "What are those things on your arm, doctor Zayne?" Pull that armbend and release, just to watch him tensing up and sighing. "It's for me to play with? Such a slut, putting on such a thing, right?" He wouldn't deny it, so you know the answer.

• Why wouldn't he extend it to other areas? If you can choose what his wardrobe looks like, may you also choose his cologne? He would feel so good knowing you like how good he smells just for you. Why don't you pick up a candy for him to eat? He would eat it so contented at a break at his work, knowing you picked it just for him. He's so undeniably pleased by being a perfect man exclusively for you.

• He's a service sub, after all. All he wants is to see you satisfied, and he knows your pleasure shouldn't be never treated as something exclusive to bedroom. Oh no, Zayne would never. He betrayed a god so he could worship and adore just you. He's such a devoted man. Going through all med school and becoming the best cardiologist was only one step of him proving how good he can be for you.

• Searching about menstrual cycles and observing you so he can properly take care when it happens. Letting you sleep on his car and covering you with his coat while he drive both of you home, keeping you company while you travel to search about your own unknown past, cooking home meals at the weekends because he knows you enjoy his food. He has that subtle smile on his face, when the worshiper side of him isn't that subtle anymore.

• At first, he would be insecure about trying to make any sort of physical contact with you. However, it took only one time for him just becoming obsessed with laying on top of you. He would came from his shift at the hospital and spot you laying on the couch or bed. It's done, it's all it takes for him to come crawling at you, looking at your eyes like he's asking for permission. You would open your arms, letting him nuzzle your neck. His body tensed and tired by the hours of surgeries immediately relaxing on your embrace and his brain turning off completely, too drunk in your scent and warmth to think anything. That's the place he belongs to.

• When you start to scratch his hair scalp softly with the tips of your nails, then he comes up with the conclusion that his sleepless and lonely nights at med school were totally worth it.

• Don't judge Zayne if he gets hard while you scratch his hair and nape. This man has such sensitive skin, especially this part, as he insists on saying. Keep scratching to see his adorable reactions getting more and more lustful as the minutes passes by.

• Zayne already told you that you're his first experience, so he can basically get hard by pretty much everything. When he shows off insecurity about not being able to control it, praise him. He can be the put-together-ice-cold-genius from cardiology to everyone else but to you? Let him be the pretty boy who cums untouched by just hearing praises from you.

[chukys-mouthguard]

14. “That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it.”

jack has been pinning after quinn’s grumpy best friend and she won’t admit how fond she is off him and they finally kiss and she tries to play it off but jacks knows :)

Prompt: “That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it.”

Note: I’m literally was brainstorming ideas for these prompt requests while driving to work today and literally making voice notes of my ideas 😂 this one ended up a little on the longer side i feel, but hopefully it’s still good :)

“Well I know who you’re most excited to see.”

Glancing at your friend you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, knowing exactly who she was talking about.

“More like who I’m going to avoid at all costs.”

Your friend just shaking her head, she along with everyone in your friend group knew how you secretly felt about Jack. But you’d never admit it. Not even to Quinn, his own brother and your best friend for years.

You and Quinn met first, then he slowly introduced you to his brothers, knowing they could be a lot to handle when all together. Luke you didn’t mind, but something about Jack just got under your skin. His confident cocky attitude, the way he was literally good at everything he did, his adorable smile and the way his laugh lit up a room. No, y/n, shut up. Nothing about Jack Hughes was anything to blush over.

“Gonna be kind of hard when we all are stuck on a boat together. And when Jack looks like that.” Your friend pulling down her sunglasses to get a look at Jack, in just his swim trunks as he helped Quinn load up the boat.

Since Jack’s shoulder surgery you’d heard that he’d been hitting the gym pretty hard. And it was sure paying off, sure you admit that he looked good. But you didn’t dare tell him, not needing to boost his ego any further.

“Oh lord…just another thing for him to brag about.”

Rolling your eyes you took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the adventure this day would be. Trying your best to not be a total jerk all day and have some fun.

Quinn waved at the two of you as you approached the boat, Luke taking your bags and setting them on the deck.

“Okay, so Jack and I got pretty much everything ready to go. The only thing left to pack is the cooler, y/n do you mind going to pack that? You’re the go to bartender around here.”

Flashing a smile to Quinn you accepted the task and headed into the garage of the lake house. Eyeing up all the alcohol in the fridge and trying to decide what to bring.

After getting an initial idea, you scanned the room for the cooler, only to find it on the top shelf completely out of reach.

“How the fuck do the Hughes boys reach that? No way one of them got that thing up there.”

Rolling your eyes you tried to find anything that could help you reach, opting to try and stand on a few cases of beer. Only to still be a few inches short.

“Can I help?”

The playful tone of Jack’s voice echoing through the garage and making you cringe. Of course he shows up, loving the fact that you needed him when he knew the feeling was killing you inside.

“Nope, I can do it myself.” Trying to stand on your tippy toes, you swiped for the cooler, only to miss and stumble off the piled of beer boxes. Bracing yourself to fall face first, you shut your eyes tight, only to be caught by the arms of Jack.

His arms that were now much bigger than you’d remembered, his skin sun kissed from being out on the boat all morning, your heart racing from the fall, but also the closeness of the two of you.

“Are you okay?”

He slightly chuckled as he helped you back to your feet, his arms still wrapped around you as he smiled down at you. Sensing how nervous you’d become. Your heart racing as you looked back up at him, not noticing his face moving closer to yours.

Before you could react, he’d placed a kiss on your lips, nothing crazy, testing the waters more so to gauge your reaction. And when you didn’t pull away, Jack knew he’d gotten through your cold act you kept up with him.

“I’ll take that as a yes, and dare I say, I think I make you nervous y/n.”

Scoffing you quickly threw drinks into the cooler, flustered as you just wanted to get onto the boat as quickly as possible.

“That was but a moment of weakness. Think nothing of it Jack Hughes.”

Reaching for the cooler, your arm practically popping out of place at the weight of all the drinks. Jack laughing as he came over to help.

“If I help with the cooler do I get a kiss for that too?”

“You wish Hughes.”

Rolling your eyes you took your hand from the cooler, leaving him to carry it all by himself.

“Hey! What gives?”

“Well you’re loving showing off your new muscles, so I thought you could put them to work.”

[lycandrophile]

some thoughts about top surgery recovery, as of 3 days post-op:

when they say using your chest muscles sucks afterward, i never realized exactly how much was going to be be limited. coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, laughing — all of it is terrifying right now. even talking for too long starts to put that kind of stress on my chest, and my voice isn’t as strong as it usually is. it takes me forever to fully empty my bladder when i’m on the toilet because i’m totally relying on gravity to do all the work (and shitting was effectively impossible without a stool softener even though i haven’t taken the pain meds they said i would need them for)…and don’t even get me started on figuring out how to wipe (hint: back to front while sitting, using my dominant hand to push my non-dominant hand far back enough). using the computer is also harder — i was planning on playing lots of baldur’s gate after, but for the first couple days i could only really go for a few minutes before using my arms that way got too tiring. having a mastectomy pillow has been an absolute godsend when i’m using my phone because i can prop my arms up on it and not really have to use any muscles at all to hold them up.

the biggest piece of not being able to use my chest muscles right now, which i’m writing separately because it’s been such a huge thing for me, is that i cannot sit up or back by myself at fucking all. like, if i sit on the couch and lean back a bit to sit against the cushion, it hurts to pull myself back up to fully straight — and if i’m leaning back any more than that, i just can’t do it at all and i’m stuck there unless my boyfriend puts their hands behind me and pushes my dead weight back up. i totally get why some people sleep in a recliner now because i’m completely at the mercy of having someone there to help move me around once i’m at any sort of angle. sitting back is mostly the same as far as what i can do, and arguably hurts worse to attempt at all, but my ability to do it seems to be coming back faster than my ability to sit up. if you’ve never had your mobility limited to that extent before, prepare yourself: the first time you’re stuck somewhere and the person who normally helps you doesn’t answer immediately can be really fucking scary (i learned that the hard way).

the anesthesiologist warned me that i might have a sore throat after surgery from being intubated, but i was not prepared for what “sore throat” ended up meaning for me. you know that feeling of swallowing something that’s too big and you can still feel it in your throat even after it’s down? it’s like that times 20, and further down in my throat. the worst pain i’ve felt in the last three days wasn’t from the surgery itself, it was from trying to swallow pancakes when my throat was at it’s worst. today is the first day it’s even started to fade, and even now, it hurts just to swallow my own spit. i don’t know about you, but that’s not what comes to mind when someone tells me “you might have a sore throat”.

on that note, the incisions themselves have really been the least painful part in general, probably because the nerves there aren’t reconnected yet. the vast majority of my pain and discomfort at this point has been from the drains and bandages — the drain sites getting sore or just randomly starting to sting, waking up feeling suffocated by the ace bandages, etc. it’s not because anything is wrong with them — the drains weren’t placed wrong and the bandages aren’t too tight, they’re just a huge pain in the ass to deal with 24/7. i can’t express how much i’m looking forward to getting the drains out and being able to take binder breaks because it’ll make things so much more comfortable.

my incisions are connected in the middle because my chest tissue was all really close together, and the part where the incisions connect is really the only part where i’ve felt any pain so far. i suspect it’s because the swelling on either side is making that part of the incision push together and press against itself, and then the binder pushes on it even more. it’s not a severe pain at all, but i do sometimes lift the center of the bandage off my chest for a second to give that spot a bit of a break.

i’ve already started getting some of the weird sensations associated with nerves reconnecting, and it definitely is wild. so far, it’s been mostly tingly feelings, sometimes like chills and sometimes more like a limb falling asleep. (weird observation: taking a shit makes my ribs tingle? i’ve got no good explanation for that one.) i’ve gotten a zap on one side and some buzzing feelings too. it’s pretty mild right now, probably because it’s so early on.

i’ve also gotten what i would describe as phantom boob feelings, especially on the first night. specifically, when i close my eyes, sometimes i’ll feel like someone is touching or jiggling the boobs i don’t have anymore. definitely not a super pleasant experience, but i think being out of it from the anesthesia still really helped me not be too upset by the worst of it. i’ve gotten a couple little phantom nipple touches too, but those were just split second blips of sensation that were far less bothersome in comparison.

i never realized that the classic post-op hunch is caused more by the binder than by the body itself, but we had to take all of my bandages off the night after my surgery to send pictures of something to my surgeon, and i was shocked by how much straighter i could sit with everything off. i was definitely still hunched, but it was more like a natural slouch and less like i looked like i was using an invisible walker. with the binder on, it’s super uncomfortable for me to try to stand straight at all because it feels like the ace bandage doesn’t come with my body and just drags everything down, and i’m always holding my mastectomy pillow or my hands to my chest while i walk around to stop it from feeling like gravity is going make the bandage tear my chest open.

every so often, when things are getting especially painful or uncomfortable or just generally difficult, i do start to wonder if i made the right choice. not because i regret getting rid of those things — not by a long shot — but because it’s a fucking hard process to go through. this is probably the hardest thing for me to admit, but the rational part of my mind knows it’s natural to feel that way once in a while. all of this is temporary and the relief from dysphoria will be permanent, but right now? this is my entire world and it doesn’t feel particularly temporary and i do have moments of “why do i have to go through all this when other people get to just have the right body from the start? why couldn’t i just live with what i had? why can’t i just be living my normal life right now?” no matter how sure you are of your choice, no matter how proud you are of being trans, this shit is hard and it’s okay to feel that.

i’m going to put the pictures of my chest one day post-op under the cut, because i think it’s pretty rare to see pictures from that soon after the surgery. they’re not gorey at all — the actual incisions are totally covered by steri strips and everything around them is clean — but still, if you don’t want to see relatively fresh surgery results, don’t look under the cut.

for all the discomfort and pain and limitations and other weirdness of recovery, every time i look at these pictures it reminds me of exactly why i’m doing all of this, and i’m so glad i kept fighting for this for so long. some people might never understand why someone would choose to go through this whole process, but i know it’ll be worth it in the end.

here’s my chest one day post-op! i think it looks super good and my surgeon said it looks like it’s healing perfectly (as much as it can be healing at one day). for reference, my chest was a DDD/F before surgery. i know this isn’t how my chest will look in the end, but i’m already thrilled with how things are turning out! i’ve truly never been more confident in my choice of surgeon — like, come on! look at that! she did so good!

[augustvandyne]

Hi I wanted to ask if you would write a Lucy Chen imagine. Where the reader is also a police officer and gets hurt badly, so Lucy is very worried. Just fluff with a bit of angst.

Thank you very much.

ofc ofc ofc!

backup

Lucy could tell it was going to be bad by the shake of your voice on the radio. You’d shakily asked for backup, but it was too late.

You and Lucy hadn’t been riding together that day, and that was the worst decision Sergeant Grey had ever made.

You were assigned to a shop with yourself, while Lucy was with Tim.

She didn’t understand. She’d seen you twenty minutes ago, tops. But from there the two of you had went separate ways.

Her voice broke, “Tim,” as soon as your voice had disappeared, and with one look at the woman, he stepped on the gas.

Tim gave her the spiel, if she wasn’t able to handle it, she’d have to step aside until you were safely transported to the hospital, where Tim would take her right after this, along with the rest of the station.

To say the way you looked was bad, was an understatement. The sight of you had everyone speechless, even Nyla.

“Conscious, but unresponsive,” Nolan is able to get out over the lump in his throat.

The man you were obviously up against looked worse than you, if that’s even possible. He took a shot to the chest, and was DOA.

You, on the other hand, had taken several shots and several cuts. There were bruises starting to form along your body and blood pouring out of your cuts.

Bailey has to keep her tears from falling as she and her team load you onto a stretcher.

Lucy stands by the side the whole time, trying to keep her tears at bay, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t let a few slip.

Tim and the rest of the team escorted you to the hospital, following behind the ambulance that was going more than a few miles over the speed limit.

By the time Lucy had gotten to the hospital her face was red from rubbing her tears away and her hair was messy from her running her hands through it.

She’s out of the car and by your side before it’s even in park.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy can’t even look at you. She knows it isn’t her fault, but she can’t help but blame herself. She had a bad feeling the whole twenty minutes since she’d saw you, and she should’ve known. “Y/n, you’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna be here the whole time, okay? I’m not leaving until you’re sick of me.”

The nurses push you through, an O.R. already ready for you, as you are a loved face all over LA—the station, the community center, the hospital.

When the doors close, and Lucy can no longer follow, Tim is there to bring her into a tight hug.

He needed it just as bad as she did.

Lucy quite literally breaks down it his arms, and Tim isn’t sure what to do, so he just stays standing there with a broken Lucy in his arms until the rest of the team found the two of them.

The group went around hugging Lucy, which was greatly appreciated by her because she needed it, and that’s why everyone embraced her.

The two of you were at the height of your relationship, and so she was more in love with you than ever.

She was going to marry you, and she knew it, so she couldn’t let you die now.

Sergeant Grey granted Lucy a few days off to get you back up and on your feet, which she gratefully took.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

By the time your surgery was done, not a single person had left the hospital.

Tim had tried to get Lucy to go to the cafeteria to eat with him, and to get her to go home to get some things for you and herself, but she wouldn’t even budge.

Nyla had brought her at least two cups of coffee, but Lucy had just let them sit. She was still in shock.

Tim sat on Lucy’s right, while Nyla sat on her left.

Those three were the three most important people in your life.

Lucy was the love of your life. The reason you kept going. You’d attended the academy together, but you were a year behind her, so she’d never really spoken to you. Maybe once or twice at the bar, but that was it.

Tim was your best friend. Any problems you had, you took right to him. On your off days, he’d take you to your favorite food truck and did whatever he could to cheer you up, because when you were sad, there was no light in any room.

Then there was Nyla. Your T.O., mentor, teacher, whatever you wanted to call her. She would never admit it, but you were her favorite. You’d won her over in the first week, and that was a Nyla Harper record.

So here were your three favorite people, all praying you’d make it through this surgery, and then make it through the night.

The nurse that comes out happens to be friends with Tim, so he is able to sweet talk her into letting the three of them come see you in the ICU.

Even though you aren’t awake, Lucy, Tim, and Nyla want to see that you are okay and breathing.

You looked better.

The cuts had bandages over them, and most of the dirt on your face had been washed off.

You’d only taken two actual shots to your body—your ankle and your shoulder. Any other shots had been caught by the vest. That was evident from the bruises formed on your chest.

One of your legs had been cut up pretty badly, and it had stitches. Lucy knew you’d be self conscious over the big gash that ran horizontal on your thigh.

Nyla lets out a loud sigh, her hands on her lower back as she stares at the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.

“Where was her goddamn backup?” Nyla lowers her guard for a second when a tear falls down her face.

“Nolan was on his way,” Tim keeps his jaw clenched, his hands in his pockets to keep himself from doing something he’d regret. “He said he was responding. I don’t— I don’t know. He—“

Lucy stands in the corner next to Nyla, afraid to speak.

Seeing Tim and Nyla so distraught has Lucy’s tears come back. Her heart breaks and drops to the ground all over again, and it definitely doesn’t feel good.

“God, if I’d have drove faster, maybe—“

“Don’t blame yourself,” Nyla takes a seat in the chair by your side, holding one of your hands in hers. “Don’t blame anyone. It’s no one’s fault but the man who did this.”

“I had a bad feeling,” Lucy has to bite her lip to keep herself from breaking down again.

“Lucy—“

“No,” Lucy scoffs. “I should have known.”

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Lucy is still asleep by the time you wake up. Nyla and Tim agreed to take turns staying with Lucy until you were discharged from the hospital. Which would be in a few days.

You had a bit of internal bleeding, so the doctors want to keep you for a few days to watch over you.

Tim is in the cafeteria grabbing some air and coffee. The two of you were asleep, so he figured he could have at least ten minutes to himself.

You wake Lucy when you’re reaching for the water, your throat was uncomfortably dry.

Lucy is immediately grabbing the cup and pitcher and pouring you water.

“Lucy—“

“Don’t talk,” Lucy feels her eyes watering again.

“Then don’t cry,” You whisper. You try to reach out and wipe her tears, but it pains you due to the shot in your arm. “I think my arms broken.”

Lucy laughs, glad to have some relief after those last agonizing hours without you.

“You were shot in the foot and shoulder. Your shoulder is broken, baby, but you’ll be okay. You have a large cut on your right thigh, too. I’ll take you to physical therapy, and you’ll be as good as new, okay? Grey gave me the next week or so off, but if you need more time with me, I will stay off longer. You’ll be back soon enough—“

It takes everything in you to lean forward and kiss Lucy.

“It’s okay, Luce,” You smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Lucy’s features soften.

“Lay with me,” You insist.

“Are you sure you won’t break another bone moving over?”

“Lay with me,” You say more aggressive this time so Lucy knows you aren’t kidding.

“Okay, fine,” Lucy fits in the spot you open up for her, despite the pain it caused to open it, it was totally worth it. “Now, let me tell you about how I saw Tim crying.”

Tim decides to come in at that moment.

“Oh— you’re awake,” Tim’s brows raise.

“Come and sit,” You turn your head towards him as he sits in the chair beside your bed. “Lucy was just about to tell me about how big and bad Timmy was spotted crying.”

Tim rolls his eyes but listens anyways.

[raguiras]

One of Deuce's old delinquent "friends" was being weird with Yuu (Allen)...

Reblogs are extremely appreciated! 👉👈

Allen suffers from major insecurities and trauma caused by people commenting on him and bullying him for his rather feminine appearance, and Deuce, who's already quite protective over casual friends, DEFINITELY ain't taking it.... That said, these two have a massive "cute mutual protectors" dynamic and Allen protects/defends Deuce equally much!

YEAHHH the third part of my Allen x Deuce ship introduction is here!! I'm brainrotting so hard—

Previous parts: part 1 // part 2

Next up is most likely the ship event post I mentioned before 👀

Below is the second part of Allen & Deuce's relationship timeline! Its first part can be found here.

SPOILER WARNING for Book 5 & Book 6!

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BOOK 5:

Between Book 4 and 5, Allen finally had his top surgery (he's intersex & used to wear binders). Deuce not only accompanied him to the hospital, but also stayed in the next room for the entire duration of the surgery and made sure to immediately visit Allen once it was over. He sat by the blonde boy's bed, his mere presence comforting Allen and making him feel at peace. The following days, Deuce spent even more time at Ramshackle and strictly slept over every night as he wanted to be 100% attentive and take perfect care of Allen all around the clock. Needless to say, Allen constantly thanked Deuce for being there for him, and it only intensified his own feelings... Allen had never been taken care of this much before, and it was probably more than what an average friend would do for you, right...? Did this mean...? No, Deuce couldn't love him. Nobody could. That's what Allen had been taught all those years, after all. And if so many people had said it, it had to be the truth...

Unfortunately, the VDC got announced shortly after Allen's surgery, and his recovery included a strict prohibition from sports or anything exhausting. Allen, being an aspiring musician and good dancer, cursed to himself — this would've been THE opportunity to go viral — and the Heartslabyul freshman listened to him rant. That's when Deuce ultimately decided that he'd audition... he wanted to support his mom with the money and keep an eye on Epel anyway, and now, he could not only fulfill his recovering crush's dream for him by performing and hopefully promoting Allen through it, but also impress him...

Little did Deuce know that Allen didn't need to be impressed. Watching Deuce practice — yes, even when he didn't get a single step right and tripped over his own feet — was super cute and gradually attractive to Allen, not to mention that the blonde boy really liked Deuce's voice as well...

Training was hard for Deuce, but knowing that Allen was watching certainly helped... He did his absolute best and followed Kalim and Jamil's guidance as closely as possible. Couldn't mess up in front of his crush, right!?

When Deuce got selected to be a performer and Allen became the manager, both of them celebrated in joy. While neither of them mentioned it, this meant that they'd get to spend even more time together...

...and when Vil decided that everyone would stay at Ramshackle for the preparation period, these two mentally celebrated even more. Now they'd officially live together for a couple weeks...

In order to prevent shenanigans and an angry Vil, Allen searched for sugar-free alternatives of Deuce's favorite snacks as well as food tasting similar to them. However, Allen would occasionally let Deuce snack on his own secret reserves whenever the two were together in Allen's room, away from prying eyes.

Deuce had problems sticking to Vil's prescribed skincare routine, so Allen decided to help him with it. He reminded Deuce of the routine every morning and evening and also helped him apply the products.

Deuce also struggled with the set bedtime and asked Allen to remind him to go to bed early. Considering that Allen had been struggling with his own sleep schedule for some time and would often stay up until past 3 am on the worst nights, the two decided to simply share a bed on most days so they could "force" each other to sleep on time. Not only did this intensify their relationship even more and excite both of them, but it helped Allen fall asleep much sooner... Deuce's presence was soothing to him and distracted Allen just enough for him to not overthink his life prior to going to bed.

During the preparation period, Allen offered to help Deuce with his vocals, which the Heartslabyul student excitedly accepted. Not only could he improve his own singing through it, but spend even more time with Allen and listen to his beautiful singing voice a lot, too... Additionally, Allen was able to efficiently teach Deuce due to being a self-taught singer with little knowledge on technical terms and theory, resulting in extremely easy and comprehensible explanations that could actually be understood by Deuce.

On occasion, Allen also taught the blue-haired boy basic makeup skills and sometimes even did Deuce's makeup for him. Needless to say, there were TONS of eye contact and blushing involved...

In addition to this, Allen kept helping Deuce with his gradually improving self-control and school work. Deuce, too, assisted Allen with the rest of his recovery and was super attentive.

Due to the combination of the shared dorm, their close friendship, their study sessions and the intense VDC preparation, Allen and Deuce were quite literally spending the entirety of every day together by now. While they had always been around each other a ton, this was what ultimately made them come off as inseparable.

You would've thought it would be impossible for Deuce to fall any harder, but oh boy... with every passing day, it only got worse. Deuce basically had heart eyes like a lovesick puppy at the mere mention of Allen.

While Deuce tried to hide his ginormous crush, it was impossible to deny. Everyone could see the way Deuce looked at Allen with nothing but admiration and love in his eyes, and Ace even started getting concerned due to how down bad & out-of-character Deuce appeared to be.

Whenever Allen wasn't around, Deuce would even ask Vil and Rook for advice on his appearance and compliments. He was desperate to impress and woo Allen and awkwardly admitted this to the two Pomefiore housewardens, too. Neither were surprised as they had already Deuce's crush on Allen, and they ended up actually giving the boy some advice.

When Deuce once came over to visit friends and pick up some things at Heartslabyul, Cater was blown away by the strong scent of his cologne. The fact that Deuce had suddenly bought something like that sure was surprising, especially considering that the boy was usually more of an Axe guy...

Not only that, but Deuce practiced the dance in front of his mirror extremely often, too. It had to perfect... HE had to be perfect for Allen. After all, the blonde boy was way out of his league...

Being around Deuce so much made Allen's feelings grow quickly, too. However, unlike Deuce, Allen absolutely HATED them and tried to get rid of them out of fear of being rejected and hurt again. All those years, he had been taught that nobody could ever love him and that developing a crush on him was basically impossible, so why would Deuce of all people like him back?! Allen actively denied his feelings... he couldn't risk this friendship or the possibility of having a broken heart again. He'd just wait for this phase to pass...

Grim noticed that Allen was suddenly spending even more time with Deuce and that the two also got progressively touchy. He confronted Allen with something along the lines of "Why're ya spending SO much time with him?! Do you have a crush on him or somethin'? Myahaha!". Shit, Allen thought to himself. His cat knew.

Vil knew, too. So did Rook. So did Jamil, Kalim, Ace, Epel and even the ghosts! The only ones who somehow didn't know about each other's feelings were Allen and Deuce...

Allen tried his best to deny the way he felt whenever Deuce would flash him a smile during practice performances. Deuce, on the contrary, would melt internally at every proud grin Allen gave him...

The fact that Deuce was now a better singer allowed him to approach one of Allen's favorite impulsiveness control methods with more confidence: singing and rapping out one's feelings and frustration.

Additionally, Allen admired the fact that Deuce was now trying his hand at ballet in order to overcome the last few traces of his old internalized toxic masculinity. Allen, struggling with some toxic masculinity himself and having been ashamed of his curves and rather androgynous appearance all his life, saw this as an inspiration to try his hand at more feminine fashion. He had wanted to do this for a long time, but held back out of fear of being seen as even less of a man because of it... and now here Allen was, wearing more feminine clothing for the first time and making Deuce fanboy even harder than usual.

Deuce was not the only one fanboying, though. During the entire VDC performance, Allen was cheering like a madman and couldn't keep his eyes off Deuce. So what if they had Vil, Epel and Jamil? To Allen, Deuce was the star of the show.

When Deuce finally discovered his Unique Magic, Allen was not only incredibly proud and happy for the Heartslabyul student, but was also reminded of an old character he had created as a younger teenager who had had the exact same skill as Deuce. Was this a sign...? ...nah, he must've been delusional.

BOOK 6:

During the invasion, Deuce immediately jumped in front of Allen in order to protect him, but got hit himself instead. When he got injured and passed out as a result, Allen absolutely panicked. He wasn't even really concerned about how the dorm was being damaged — only Deuce's wellbeing was on Allen's mind. Additionally, he felt overwhelming guilt that this had only happened because Deuce had protected HIM...

Instead of going to S.T.Y.X., Allen decided to stay at NRC in order to take care of Deuce. He spent most of his time in the infirmary, sitting by Deuce's bed and waiting for him to wake up. Why was he doing this?! Out of guilt only? Certainly not... Was he crazy?! Deuce was just a friend... just a friend... just a friend who he loved a lot and had undeniable feelings for. No matter how much Allen tried to fall out of love, it was impossible. Deuce had given him so much and it was the most Allen had ever been cared for...

When Deuce finally woke up, Allen immediately pulled him into a relieved, loving lung-crushing hug and didn't want to ever let go. Deuce felt as if he was about to pass out again due to the happiness caused by Allen cherishing him so much.

Deuce and Allen kept doing their usual activities — hearing each other out, helping each other, spending fun time together — while hoping for Grim and the housewardens to finally return.

Considering how often Deuce stayed at Ramshackle anyway, him and Allen decided that he could simply leave some of his belongings from the VDC preparations at the dorm. This only prompted Deuce to visit Ramshackle and sleep over even more...

Every night before going to bed, Deuce wrote about Allen into a little diary. Hell forbid Ace found it, but at least it allowed Deuce to openly express his feelings without being judged or teased. As he kept reading through the words he had written already over and over again, Deuce realized even more just how much Allen had helped him with various highly important things over the past 5-6 months of knowing each other... and that's when he decided to buy the giant Shiba plushie Allen had recently mentioned as a thank-you gift. Sure, he had already occasionally gifted Allen stuffed animals before, but maybe this huge Shiba would convey his gratitude and crush even more...

Needless to say, Allen was blown away by the gift and pretty much jumped Deuce out of joy. He had wanted this Shiba plushie for weeks now, and receiving it as a surprise gift from his crush was an indescribable feeling. However, Allen strictly viewed it as a platonic thank-you gesture and didn't (want to) get the hint. After all, why would Deuce be pining after him...?

Near the end of Book 6 [= during the time when the game's canon Yuu is still at S.T.Y.X.], Deuce suddenly received a call accusing him of highly offensive vandalism in his hometown. Both Allen and Deuce were absolutely furious at this unreasonable accusation, and it was a no-brainer for Allen to prove Deuce innocent. While Deuce broke down and complained about never being able to escape his past no matter how much he tried, Allen not only encouraged him and told him that he had become a much better person, but was also determined and already had a plan. Having excellent manipulation skills and a way with words, Allen got Crowley to give him access to all private cameras around the school to prove that Deuce had been at NRC the entire time and couldn't possibly have been the culprit. He mailed the recordings to the police station in Deuce's hometown, managing to prove that the Heartslabyul student was innocent. Allen also suspected that the person blaming the vandalism on Deuce was likely the culprit or one of their friends, encouraging the police to continue their investigation with them. Deuce, on the other hand, couldn't have been more grateful that Allen had successfully cleared his name and stood up for him like that. A week later, a call informed the two boys that one of Deuce's former friends had admitted to the crime and had tried to blame it on Deuce out of anger that he had distanced himself from them. Hearing how his old "friend" had betrayed Deuce only made him cherish his current friendships and especially the relationship he had with Allen even more...

BOOK 7:

[I haven't played Book 7 yet, so I'll either update this section later or share it in a separate post! Until then, we're assuming that they realized just how much they loved each other even more.]

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That's everything for now! The final part of their relationship timeline (post book 7), including when they FINALLY get together, will be in my next Allen x Deuce introduction post!

However, my next overall post is likely going to be the announcement for my ship art/writing event 👀

Thank you for the support on my previous Allen x Deuce posts! It means ridiculously much to me 🥹🥹🥹

[banj0possum]

a scenario where bully yan takes readers shirt off and reader gets embarrassed because they have top surgery scars? ftm reader 🙏

Yan!Bully x FtM!Reader

CW: FtM reader, top scars obviously, nothing but fluff and adrian being a bit stupid

🖤 "Come on you idiot! Run faster!"

🖤 Running desperately towards Adrian's house in the pouring rain was not the way you expected today would go..

🖤 He offered to walk you home after school despite the gray clouds rolling over the sky

🖤 "Don't worry about it babe! Besides, I wanna spend some time with you~!"

🖤 He thinks umbrellas are dumb

🖤 Anyways back to now, the two of you barge into his house, clothes and hair dripping wet from the downpour.

🖤 Adrian tried his best to keep you dry but the jacket he draped onto you soaked through eventually..

🖤 "Jeez I'm so sorry..uh...wanna maybe..stay over while we wait for it to clear up?" He laughs awkwardly.

🖤 Please don't glare or scold him please he will start to sulk like a sad guilty puppy ;-;

🖤 He quickly grabs towels for the both of you. As much as he's enjoying seeing your wet clothes stick to your perfect body, he doesn't want his darling to catch a cold!

🖤 "Come on, I got clothes you can borrow in my room.."

🖤 He runs up faster than you to 'fix up his bed' he has to hide that side of his wall dedicated to photos of you..

🖤 He throws a few clothes over to you as you stumble around in wet clothes

🖤 "Aren't you gonna change?"

🖤 "R-right here?"

🖤 "Pfft yea right here! We're both dudes anyway!"

🖤 He goes over to you and helps you lift up your shirt. At first it felt like the best thing in the world being so close to your body..then he catches a glimpse of your scars.

🖤 He needed at least maybe a triple take to figure out it was scars and not just weirdly shaped curves on your skin.

🖤 He throws off your soaked shirt and looks at them in disbelief, you start to feel uncomfortable until he cups your face with a worried expression on his face "What happened to you?!"

🖤 "Wh-what??"

🖤 "I mean like did you get a surgery or something?? I-do I have to like be more careful with you wh-"

🖤 "Oh...they're top scars.."

🖤 "There's more scars in the bottom?!"

🖤 "No-"

🖤 You need to sit him down and explain what top scars mean after you two change.

🖤 Yes he knew you were trans, but he never really thought about how you transitioned in the first place (honestly he forgets you're afab in the first place..)

🖤 He calms down after that and apologizes to you with rainy day cuddles and kisses to your chest.

🖤 "You're so handsome baby~ my big strong boy~" he coos

🖤 The rain doesn't look like it would lighten up any time soon, you two have all the time in the world to spend time together <3

this was a bit short but i also have a few other Adrian requests lined up so stay tuned for those !!