#getting jacked instead of getting top surgery

[shibaleeart]

Something small for the Trans Shizuo truthers <3

[kmnco8]

transgender hanzo

[elidritchhorror]

Huevember Day 7: Yamato

[13thvalentine]

pixiv post | ko-fi | comm info

based on this ....

[httpuckdrop]

ashes – day 162

series masterlist

a frustrated grunt caught your attention.

you'd been sitting at jack's kitchen table for far too long now, nose buried in coursebooks and eyes burning from staring at your laptop all morning. exam season was coming up, and just because you were missing lectures since you were stuck taking care of a 23-year-old man-baby didn't mean you weren't going to aim for the top grades. jack had no idea of this, of course; you'd told him you just happened to have a break from classes the exact weeks following his surgery, and he never questioned it.

you'd seen out of the corner of your eye that jack had stepped into the room a few minutes ago, but you had been too focused on your work to actually look over at him and see what he was doing. now that you turned around in your chair, you found him standing by the counter, a buttered knife in his good hand as a slice of bread in front of him. the toast was messed up with little lumps of butter haphazardly thrown around and newly made holes in random spots.

you watched him attempt to spread the butter evenly across the surface of it, but he was struggling to hold the bread still – it kept on sliding along the counter – and spread the butter with just one hand. his other arm hung restlessly in his sling, fingers almost twitching with the need to help out.

you closed your laptop, deciding that you're in need of a break, before taking a few quick strides over to jack. "hey, let me-"

"no," he said instantly, taking a side step away from you. he placed the knife in the hand of his injured shoulder, before holding the bread still with his other. "i don't need any help."

"i know you don't need it," you said, crossing your arms over your chest as you leaned your hip against the counter. "but i want to make things easier."

"i don't need easy, i'm- fuck."

he cut himself off with a sharp hiss, his hands dropping what they were holding as his good hand came up to hold his shoulder. his eyes squeezed shut and he held his breath for a few moments. "i knew this was unnecessary," you mumbled, reaching up to rest a hand on his upper arm. "are you okay?"

he nodded quickly, taking a few breaths now, which should be a sign that the pain is subsiding. "more frustrated than anything." he opened his eyes, letting out a sigh when he saw your expression. "it's fine, it barely even hurts anymore. it just feels like getting stabbed, but it doesn't stay for long."

whether you trusted him or not didn't matter. either way, you gave his injury-free shoulder a light shove and stepped closer. "sounds good, but i'm going to be making this now anyway," you told him, voice gentle yet leaving no room for argument. "go sit on the couch, i'll be out in just a second?"

he merely grumbled as an answer, but you knew not to take it personally. especially since you remembered how jack had confided in you the other night about his injury and what it made him feel.

"i feel so... lost. without hockey. like, hockey has always been the one constant in my life, and now it's just... not here. and i can't do anything about it. and being stuck in this damn sling– it freaks me out, not being able to do whatever i want. i don't want to be restrained."

it wasn't like you were surprised. you had already figured it out. it was obvious, to be honest; jack's control issues have been a regular subject of your thoughts recently. it wasn't surprising to you that he'd get frustrated when his body suddenly limited his control.

not that you'd said any of that to him, though. you'd just listened and nodded, fingers tracing little swirls into his bare chest.

after buttering some toast – a new piece of bread from the bag, instead of the one jack had already started butchering – you made your way to the living room. he accepted the bread when you handed it to him, the smile on his lips a bit sheepish. "thank you," he said, humming when your hand came up to cup his jaw.

"you want anything to drink?" you asked, thumb running across his cheek.

"you don't need to."

you sighed, but he knew the roll of your eyes was playful. "not this again," you muttered. "i know i don't need to. i want to. so..."

jack visibly relaxed even further, nodding finally. "maybe some orange juice..."

you gave his soft skin one more rub before standing up. "i'll be right back."

however, it took you a while longer than you'd expected to get back to him. on the way to the fridge, you found his water bottle – you'd bought him one of those tiktok bottles with a straw, despite his many complaints, because you insisted that using it would be easier than one with a cap he'd have to screw on and off with his injured arm – and you filled it up with new, cold water. and then you realized that it was about time for oliver to get fed, so you poured some kibble into his bowl. just as you finished the task, the little puppy darted into the room, tail waggling at the sight of yet another meal.

after picking up a stray pair of jack's socks that lay on the ground and making your way into his bedroom to throw them into the laundry bin, you stopped in your tracks. with one hand still on the bedroom doorframe, you let the silence settle around you. the gentle sound of oliver's chewing back in the kitchen made its way to your ears, along with the gentle drip of the rain against the windows.

your eyes flickered back down to the socks in your hand – and you were hit with the simple domesticity of it all. the water bottle, the kibble, the laundry. things you'd never imagined yourself doing for someone else; not like this.

you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your hair in a messy bun, jack's hoodie swallowing your frame, eyes tired but happy. the sight stilled you, because you looked like someone who belonged here. someone who was meant to be here, who was supposed to be here – and that scared you more than you'd expected.

you've always valued your own independence highly. just like jack, you don't want to need to depend on anyone; it makes you feel helpless. allowing yourself to feel weak in front of someone requires a type of vulnerability you haven't ever been ready for in a relationship before.

you want to remain yourself, a strong individual, and not just someone who falls into a category or a title. that guy's girlfriend. the daughter of the wealthy businessman. never wanting to get so close that you lose sight of yourself.

because when you depend too much on someone, when you melt into them and become a part of them, you lose control. then, if they leave you after making you lose all control, you're forced to rebuild from scratch. and you've always assumed that pain is way bigger than the joy you'd get from a relationship – so to protect yourself from it, it's been far easier to never get too close.

in all former relationships, you've always been looking forward to the day you can leave. counting down the minutes until you get to go home to your own apartment, dreaming of the day when it's late enough for you to bolt from a relationship without your friends giving you shit for not trying hard enough. but here and now... you've been staying over in jack's apartment every day for over a week in a row, only feeling the need to go back home once or twice to get some clean underwear and a book you'd forgotten before rushing back here.

and the weirdest part? you haven't once wanted to leave. no counting minutes, no waiting until he's fallen asleep to sneak out. just existing.

you've never before wanted to stay and take care of someone. you've never been the caretaker, never the one who lingers after the storm to sweep up the pieces. you've always been the one who walks away before the cracks show – before anyone can make fun of you for trying too hard.

who am i if i stay? am i allowed to want this? does it really have to mean that i'm weak?

even with these thoughts swirling in your mind, you went back into the kitchen, happily wiped crumbs from jack's toast massacre off the kitchen counter and threw them into the trash can. maybe, for now, you could allow yourself to just... do it. just live in this situation without thinking too much.

when you finally arrived back in the living room, glass of orange juice in your hand, ollie had finished his lunch and was now sleeping soundlessly on the couch. the dog had grown surprisingly much in the few weeks since jack got him, a couple of pounds heavier and body growing into the proportionally huge ears he'd had when you first saw him. and yet, he looked so tiny like this, crawled up by his dad's side. like he had no idea of anything bad in the world; like his dad would protect him from all evil.

he probably would, to be fair. just like you felt like he would keep you safe from the rest of the world, no matter the cost.

you settled into his side, intertwining your own hands in your lap. you could hear jack take a deep breath from beside you. "you know, it's almost funny," he said with a chuckle. "i never would've let anyone else see me like this. other than mom, maybe."

"like what?" you asked, tilting your head slightly to peer up at him.

"like someone you need to take care of. someone…" he paused to pull a hand through his hair. "helpless."

you shook your head. "you're not helpless," you countered instantly. "plus, it's not like that's the first time i've buttered your toast. i make you breakfast, i help pack your bags for road trips, i-"

"but those are things you do to be nice. little bonus things 'just because'. not things you do to help me out because i can't do them myself." his brows furrowed, and you instinctively reached for his hand when it dropped down into his lap. "i don't like being seen as... all weak and out of control and-" his hand tightened around yours, seemingly instinctively. "i don't know. i'd rather people saw me as tough and capable."

you ran your thumb across his knuckles as you hummed. "you are capable. i know so. you're just injured now for a little while, which doesn't make you less of a man or a person."

a long silence followed – but it wasn't awkward or stiff. it was comfortable, relaxed, like he was really taking in your words. "when you helped me out..." he chuckled to himself. "if it had been anyone else, i would've swatted their hands away. or gotten mad. but since it was you... i liked it."

he looked a little... almost embarrased by his own words. as if the words had come out before he had the chance to think them through. yet, he didn't take them back.

you let out a deep breath, unsure of what to answer. instead, you leaned into him, head resting against his shoulder. there had been something in the way he'd said it – quiet, hesitant – that made something shift in your chest.

your heart felt so warm and so big.

"you wanna know something else that's funny?" you asked, waiting to hear his hum of confirmation before continuing. "you're scared of feeling helpless, i'm scared of... the opposite, kind of."

"huh?"

you took a deep breath. "i don't know how to be... still," you said, as if that would make things easier for him to understand. "i don't know what it means if i stop running."

another silence, this time more contemplative. only a gentle attention-craving whine from ollie broke through it, but he calmed down again once jack used your joined hands to run across his back. and then, he hit you with exactly the words you needed to hear. "you're not weak for wanting to stay," he said, voice just a note above a whisper. "it means that you're strong, actually, because you're pushing through your fears."

your heart felt so full you were sure it would explode out of your chest.

"i know that vulnerability is scary, but... it doesn't have to be your enemy."

maybe he was onto something.

maybe staying means gaining something you never knew you wanted.

[florian-draws]

fuck you, it's trans piece now because i said so... perhaps i will elaborate but if not, i just hit them w the transgenderification beam.

i wrote most of this when i was watching the zou arc so my writing may change. my edits right now are when i started egghead.

• luffy- i know this is a popular headcanon but i agree that luffy is aroace. if u ship him with anyone, i'm blocking u /hj... anyway have u ever seen luffy be interested in anyone?? no. he loves meat (肉), freedom, and his crew but that's more of a found family situation.

• zoro- ok so zoro is definitely mlm. i don't wanna label him beyond that. theres something a little fruity about devoting your life to another man (i don't ship zolu but alas...). despite his rivalry w sanji, i think deep down, this marimo cares for his cook. also zoro is the epitome of "i got jacked instead of getting top surgery"

• usopp- i'm still not sure if usopp is the token straight of the crew or has some bi/pan swag... i ship him w kaya and he had that rizz in the live action (go fucking watch it if u haven't already)

• sanji- before the timeskip, sanji's egg cracked (and ivankov provides free hrt). she was a beautiful and sad-eyed otter pre-timeskip. her love of girls is strong but i think she caught feelings for zoro esp after thriller bark (nothing happened iykyk) bi and transfem sanji is canon to me in my heart

• nami- ok i'm hopping on the bandwagon but nami is the biggest lesbian i've ever seen. she had that fling w vivi and has had some gay moments. wyd hitting on kalifa? sharing clothes w wanda? wait i saw someone else say that nami wasn't interested in sanji's negative rizz pre timeskip but post timeskip, nami had an "oh no" moment (edit for clarification: nami's attraction is related to sanji transitioning during/after the time skip)

• chopper- he gives everyone in the crew their hrt supply. that's all i'm gonna say. wait his whole lore is that he feels like a monster and an outcast. that's so queercoded but i'm not labeling him.

• franky- there's something inherently transgender about rebuilding your own body (i know he's a cyborg but that's not the point). also i'm a frobin truther. they are t4t (wait zosan would also be t4t but this aint about them)

• robin- insert that scene in water 7/enies lobby when franky tells robin shes not the demon everyone says she is and her life has value. need i say more? more queercoded lore: her existence being a sin according to the government.

• brook- i really need to rewatch brook's backstory but idk... something about being your captain's right-hand man is a lil zesty. also he's a musician on a pirate ship. that's pretty gay. what are u expressing in songwriting? kissing men? listen, i know he has that bit about asking to see women's underwear but i'm going to ignore it.

[sequinsmile-x]

Intertwined, Sewn Together

He’d pushed her out of the way. 

The shot had been meant for her.

While Aaron is in surgery, Emily considers a change.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is one of those ones where I'm not entirely sure where it came from. I opened my laptop, thought "maybe it's time to write some Aaron whump" and 3k words later, here we are.

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: Aaron whump, canon typical injury, mentions of blood

Words: 3k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Fifty-three. Fifty-four. Fifty-five. 

She keeps counting the tiles on the waiting room floor, going back to the beginning, starting in the corner furthest away from her each time, focusing on the task she’d set herself in a vain attempt to distract herself from why she was here. To stop thinking about the fact that she could still feel the warmth of Aaron’s blood on her skin even though she’d washed her hands more than once, her skin red raw from scrubbing it under water that was slightly too hot. 

He’d pushed her out of the way. 

The shot had been meant for her. The unsub had pointed his gun at her shoulder, but Aaron pushed her out of the way and was shot in the chest instead. A split-second decision that she knew he had made without thinking, his eyes wide with shock and pain when she fell to the floor with him. Her pants stuck to her knees with his blood as she crawled to his side, everything else around them fading away as she tugged off his vest with shaking hands, cursing the man who’d shot him and the armour piercing bullets he’d bought as she did her best to put pressure on Aaron’s wound while Dave called for an ambulance.  

She’d climbed into the ambulance without thinking about the fact that there was still work to be done, that there was a crime scene that now needed to be cleared, and an unsub that needed processing back at the precinct. All of her focus had been on Aaron, on the man she loves, and the stupid decision he’d made in a split second. 

He’d pushed her out of the way, and she might just lose him because of it. 

One. Two. Three. 

They’d been together for 6 months, and the team had known for half of that time. Aaron had become her solace after she came back from Paris. He understood what she’d been through, had been to the edge himself, and he didn’t expect anything more from her than she could give. It was refreshing, something she needed when every other relationship in her life seemed to depend on her pretending she was still someone she used to be, someone she was before she’d died in order to save her life. She’d got closer to him, had started to spend more of her time with him and Jack, and when she first leant in to kiss Aaron, a gentle press of her lips against his one night as they shared a pizza on his couch, it felt right, like everything in her life had been leading to him, to them. 

The team found out about them after the bank. She’d saved Will’s life at the last second, had cut a wire because it was the last thing she could do. He’d told her he’d marry JJ if they made it out, and he’d smirked as he casually mentioned Aaron - or mentioned it as casually as someone strapped into a bomb could - letting her know he’d figured out what the team hadn’t, what she hadn’t even admitted to herself yet. That she loved Aaron, and if she made it out, she’d make sure she’d tell him. 

When she did make it out, she’d sought Aaron out and sunk into his chest without thinking about their audience. He’d held her back just as tightly, had beaten her to it and whispered the three words against the top of her head that he usually kept for when he thought she was asleep at night, and it was only when she pulled back to say them to him that she remembered where they were. 

Their friends, their family, had questions that they’d done their best to answer, but they’d both insisted they’d tell them more another time, that they should focus on JJ and Will on what turned out to be their wedding day. 

She knew they were still getting used to the idea, that there were reservations about their relationship - mostly from Derek - that she worried today would only ignite further. Aaron’s instinct to keep her safe will have poured gasoline on the spark of doubt in them that already existed, and she worried about what it would mean for their future. 

She’d always known their ability to continue to work together when they were together would be limited, that the blind eye Strauss had gifted them with so far would always have a time limit, but this had pulled Emily back into reality. The warmth of Aaron’s blood, the hazy look in his eyes as she begged him to stay awake, the wake-up call she should have seen coming. 

She loved him, more than she thought possible, more than she thought she deserved to, and she didn’t want to risk losing him because he loved her in the same way. 

Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. 

“Em?” 

She looks up, her neck pulling because of how quickly she does, and she watches as the team filters into the room. They were worried, she could see it on their faces, varying degrees of success in trying to hide it from her painted in the fine lines around their eyes as she stands up, unable to stay still any longer. 

“Hi,” she replies, ringing her hands together in front of her, “He’s in surgery. They think the bullet missed anything vital, but he…” she swallows thickly, feels the burn of his blood against her skin again, and she presses her lips together, “He lost a lot of blood. They said someone would come by with an update soon” 

“Do you need anything?” Dave asks, and she knows he’d do anything for her right now, that if she asked for a drink he’d go somewhere else to get her one so she didn’t have to drink the crap that the hospital dared to call coffee. 

She shakes her head, “I’m okay, thank you.” 

JJ walks over, empathy that Emily thinks might be the thing to break her shining in her eyes, and she unhooks Emily’s go-bag from her shoulder to pass it over to her, “I went to your room to get this for you,” she says, her eyes flicking to Emily’s shirt, to the darker patches on it, Aaron’s dried blood a grim pattern Emily knew she’d see when she closed her eyes for weeks to come, “I thought you might want to change.” 

“Thanks,” Emily says, hooking her bag over her shoulder, trying not to think about JJ walking into the room she and Aaron had been sharing on this case, trying not to wonder if her friend had seen their pjyamas folded neatly and piled together at the end of the bed where Aaron had left them that morning. She suddenly needs space, wants to be anywhere other than her, and she nods towards the waiting room door, “I’ll go get changed now,” she says, looking at JJ, “If there’s any news-”

“I’ll come find you,” JJ promises, and Emily nods, reaching out and squeezing her hand, pressing her appreciation against her friend's skin before she slips by her and out of the room. 

She isn’t sure if she’s grateful or not that there isn’t a mirror in the accessible bathroom. It means she can’t look at herself, can’t see what the others see, but it also means she makes quick work of getting dressed. She throws away her shirt and her pants, stuffs them into the trashcan because even though she’s worryingly good at getting blood out of clothes she never wants to see them again, all too aware she’d see Aaron’s blood, his life force, spattered all over them every time she looked at them. She lingers over a shirt of Aaron’s that she’d packed to wear as pjyamas before she pulls out something clean to wear, and she knows JJ has packed it, so she has options, so she could have part of the man she loves with her if she chooses it. She closes her eyes as she touches the soft material of his shirt, unsure how his warmth seemed to linger on it even though she’d stolen it from him weeks ago, and she blows out a slow breath before she finishes getting dressed. She makes a point of putting on another suit instead of something comfortable, needing the strength it gave her, an armour of sorts that she didn’t think she could be seen without right now. 

As she walks back to the waiting room, she hears raised voices, Derek and Dave both in a heated discussion as they try and fail not to be heard by anyone other than the team.

“Are we really going to pretend what happened today was okay?” Derek asks, and she stops in the hallway, wants to hear what he has to say when he doesn’t know she’s listening, sure that his mistrust of her relationship with Aaron went deeper than he’d ever say to her face. “He jumped in front of a bullet without thinking about it.”

“I don’t think now is the time for this, Morgan.”

“Then when is?” Derek says, and Emily doesn’t need to be looking at him to know how angry he is, “When he’s in the goddamn ground because he made a stupid decison to protect her?” 

The thought of it makes her gasp, has her covering her mouth with her hand, because what if she did lose him? 

“Hotch would protect any of us,” Spencer adds, his voice lower and quieter than the others, “He has protected all of us before.” 

“Yeah, but he jumped in front of a bullet for her, that’s worlds apart from turning a blind eye to subordination, which he’s also done for her in the past.” 

She steps into the room after that and clears her throat. She gets a small kick out of the way Derek looks at her, at the brief flash of shame in his eyes as she stares him down, maintaining eye contact as she addresses the room. 

“Did anyone come out with an update while I was gone?” 

“No,” JJ says, her kindness cutting through the tension in the room, “No one has come out yet.”

Emily nods and finally tears her gaze away from Derek, and she sits down, sinking back into the same seat she’d been in when they arrived. “If he dies-”

“Em, that’s not-”

She looks up at Derek sharply, cuts off his attempt to cut her off with a look before she starts again, “If he dies, I can assure you that there is nothing you could think or say that would be worse than what I’d think about myself.” 

There’s a moment of silence, a tension she hadn’t felt between them since she’d walked into the conference room at Quantico all those months ago, dead to everyone except JJ and Aaron, and then Derek nods. 

Eventually, Penelope clears her throat, “So, what do we do now?” 

Emily blows out a shaky breath and looks back at the floor, “Now we wait.” 

She hears shuffling as everyone sits down, the scraping of metal chairs against the tiled floor as they spread themselves out, giving her as much space as they can. She’s grateful for it, for the support and the space, and she closes her eyes, clenches her jaw as she lets her eyes burn with tears she won’t shed yet, before she looks at the floor and starts to count tiles again. 

One. Two. Three.

___

Once they are told Aaron is okay, that he’d made it through surgery, she sends the rest of the team back to the hotel. 

It’s only when she’s alone with him in his room, her hands sandwiched around one of his, that she finally lets herself cry. She presses his hand against her cheek, and tries not to focus on the coolness of his skin, on how she has to hold it there herself. She knew his skin was cooler than usual because of the blood loss, that his usual warmth would return soon, but it doesn’t make it any easier, doesn’t stop the guilt she’d felt all evening from rolling in her gut. 

She watches him closely, her eyes fixed on his face as she watches for the tiniest twitch in his brow. The first time he wakes up, he isn’t lucid. He’s asking where she is, seemingly unaware she’s the one who is right there with him, and she rests her forehead against his, hunched over his bed as she soothed him back to sleep, reminding him how loved he was, even though he’d have no memory of it. 

When he wakes up for real, his hand twitching in hers as he frowns before he opens his eyes, she notices in an instant. She stands from her spot next to his bed and kisses his knuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle it as he looks over at her. 

“Hi,” she says, reaching out to straighten the cannula in his nose that is delivering him oxygen, “Welcome back.” 

“Hi,” he replies, his voice rough from the tube he’d had down his throat for hours, “You okay?” 

The absurdity of it makes her laugh, and it catches in her chest, rattles around inside her ribcage as she shakes her head at him. She distracts herself by reaching for the cup of water next to his bed, remembering just how thirsty she’d been after her surgery, and she holds the straw to his mouth so he can take a sip.

“I’m fine, you’re the one who was shot,” she says, hearing the crack in her voice as she puts the water cup back down. He squeezes her hand as firmly as he can, and his concern for her breaks through past the pain and the medication, and she sighs, squeezing his hand back as she offers him a half shrug, “I will be fine now I know you are,” she leans in and pushes his hair from his forehead, takes the opportunity to stamp a quick kiss against his, unfettered by his breath that had seen betters days and the smell of antiseptic that lingered on his skin, “When you’re feeling better, we’re going to have a conversation about you jumping in front of a bullet for me.” 

He nods, his forehead knocking against hers as he tries to kiss her, uncoordinated as his lips catch the corner of hers, “I didn’t think about it,” he says, honest and unbidden, and she isn’t sure if its because of the medication, or because of how much he loves her, or if it’s both, but it makes her ache, “I just did it.” 

“I know, honey,” she says, swallowing thickly as she tries to push everything back down, “That’s what I’m worried about,” she runs her fingers through his hair, straightens his cannula again even though she doesn’t need to, and she blows out a shaky breath, “I don’t know if I can do this anymore,” she adds, talking outloud without really meaning to. It’s only when she sees the flash of panic in his eyes, hears the way he sucks in a painful breath, that she realises what she’s said, how he’s taken it, “Oh, honey, no,” she says, lifting his hand and kissing his knuckles again and again, pressing her love for him against the scars he had from seeking out revenge against man who’d killed the woman he’d loved before her, “Not that. Never that. You’re stuck with me forever.” 

He smiles softly at her, “You’re stuck with me, too,” he says, “So, if you’re not breaking up with me in my hospital bed,” he says, and she rolls her eyes as he smirks at her, “What did you mean?” 

“I think it might be time for me to leave the FBI,” she says, running her knuckles back and forth over his cheek, “Clyde has been offering me a job in DC ever since I turned down the one in London. Maybe it’s time I took him up on it.” 

He frowns, “Em-”

“We’ll talk about it,” she promises him, “When you’re feeling better, and I’m sure you’ll actually remember this conversation,” she says, “But I think it’s time we don’t work together anymore. I don’t want to end up in a situation again where I know you’ve put yourself between me and a man with a gun just because you love me. And I don’t want you to have to be sitting here, feeling just as shitty as I do because I’ve done the same as you.” 

She didn’t want to imagine a world without him, or her future without him by her side, but it was the reality of their jobs, and they’d both been through too much, had been too close to the precipice both together and apart, to pretend it wasn’t a potential reality. She knows that if something were to happen when she wasn’t there, if she got a call from Dave or JJ to say Aaron had been shot while she was working somewhere else, that she’d blame herself. That she’d question whether there was anything she could have done to stop it if she had been there, but she knew she had to do what felt right, that she had to figure out what she could live with if the worst was to happen. 

He nods, his eyes drifting shut a little, and she knows he’ll fall asleep again soon. “We’ll talk about it?” 

She kisses him, a promise stamped against his dry lips, and she smiles when she pulls back, “We’ll talk about it,” she says, “Now get some sleep, honey. You need it.” 

He hums, clearly trying to fight the pull of it, “You’ll be here when I wake up?” 

She nods even though his eyes are already closed, and she kisses his knuckles, keeping a tight grip on his hand as he falls asleep. 

“Always.” 

[sabrinajenre96]

Episode thirty two -“Kojo Appreciation Day”

Michael Robinavitch x wife reader x kojo x the kids

Episode Summary: Spencer, inspired by Kojo’s unwavering loyalty, decides to host a surprise “Kojo Appreciation Day” at the hospital, dragging Jack, Sabrina, and several unsuspecting staff members into her latest whirlwind event. With Y/N now 5 months pregnant and taking it a bit easier, Jack and Sabrina get a firsthand dose of Spencer’s brand of chaos while Michael tries to keep the ER running smoothly around her.

---

It started like all things Spencer Robinavitch started: with glitter, a clipboard, and an idea no one saw coming.

“I think it’s time we honor Kojo,” Spencer declared one morning at breakfast. “He does everything. Security. Emotional support. Taste tester. Nurse's assistant. Personal therapy dog. He needs a day.”

Michael, bleary-eyed, stared at her over his coffee. “He’s a dog.”

“A hero,” Spencer corrected, feeding Kojo a scrambled egg under the table.

Sawyer grinned over her cereal. “You’re actually not wrong.”

Y/N—gently rubbing her belly and chuckling—nodded. “I think the hospital could use something lighthearted. Especially in the middle of flu season.”

“YES!” Spencer jumped up. “I’m calling it Kojo Appreciation Day. Uncle Jack and Aunt Sabrina are going to help me. The Pitt will be decorated. There will be cupcakes. Kojo will wear a crown. Maybe even scrubs!”

Michael froze with a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. “Wait, what?”

---

Hospital – Later That Day

Jack and Sabrina walked into the hospital expecting a normal day—rounds, surgeries, maybe a trauma consult.

What they got instead was:

Spencer standing at the nurse’s station with a clipboard and headset.

Kojo in a mini scrub top, wagging his tail and wearing a plastic “ER HERO” badge.

The hallway decked out with hand-drawn posters: “Thank You Kojo,” “Most Valuable Paw,” and “Employee of the Month – Kojo Robinavitch.”

Sabrina blinked. “She made a laminated schedule.”

Jack looked down at the clipboard Spencer handed him. “You’ve assigned me to ‘emotional support dog handler’ duty?”

Spencer beamed. “You and Aunt Sabrina are part of the team. You're officially on my Pitt staff today.”

“Do I at least get a coffee break?”

“No. Kojo doesn’t take coffee breaks. Neither should you.”

Y/N arrived shortly after, escorted by a nurse and snacking on grapes. “I told her to tone it down. She said this was already ‘the chill version.’”

Michael passed by mid-rush, eyes wide at the posters and the mini “paw medals” taped to the walls. “Why are we treating my hospital like it’s the Westminster Dog Show?”

“Because Kojo is the best in show,” Spencer said with a wink.

---

Throughout the Day:

Kojo sat at the triage desk, wearing reading glasses (fake), as Spencer dictated pretend charts to him.

Nurses joined in, sneaking treats to Kojo and petting him in between shifts.

Sabrina was recruited to assist Spencer in a “Kojo Checkup Station” with stuffed animals lined up—each getting vitals and diagnosis tags.

Jack tried to sneak away until Spencer handed him a stuffed giraffe and whispered, “Dr. Porter, this one has a heart murmur. STAT.”

Michael officially banned glitter by 3 PM after it ended up inside his stethoscope.

Y/N laughed through the entire thing from her office, holding her belly as the baby kicked every time Spencer squealed with excitement.

---

That Evening – Post “Appreciation Day” Wind-down

Dinner at home was calm—miraculously.

Spencer had passed out on the couch, still wearing her custom “Kojo’s #1 Fan” badge. Kojo snored softly on the floor beside her, paws twitching in dreams of treats and plush stethoscopes.

Jack sat at the dining table, eyes dazed. “She made me do six rounds of stuffed animal CPR. One of them was a snake.”

“She takes after me,” Sabrina said proudly, sipping her tea.

“She takes after you on glitter crimes,” Michael muttered.

Y/N leaned back in her chair, hand on her belly, smiling. “I think we all needed that.”

Sawyer piped up from the kitchen island, grinning. “I’m just glad it wasn’t me doing the chaos for once.”

Michael looked at her. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

---

Closing Scene:

Spencer stirred from her nap and yawned.

“Next week we’re doing ‘Thank You, Janitor Dave’ day.”

Michael groaned.

Jack whispered, “I’m calling in sick.”

[the-painted-siren]

I finally finished up my height and body headcanons for the cast!

Details beneath the cut!

Jay

- Narrow face. Has a sort of movie star look to him. The most conventionally attractive out of all the ninja. Short and a little boxy-looking. Slightly muscled shoulders (he’s an inventor) but otherwise stronger than he looks.

- Lots of freckles and fulguration scars. His body regularly conducts lightning through it and it shows. The smaller ones fade with time and return when he uses his powers.

Nya

- Square face and strong features, very grumpy resting expression. Moles on her cheek and the corner of her mouth and a couple on her neck. Dragon tattoo on her arm.

- Strong biceps and and thighs (she’s been an inventor, mechanic, samurai, and now a ninja). She can easily bench press a few of her teammates and her punches hit like a semi truck. She has swirling marks as well as fangs from her time merged as the ocean and a scar on her left side from fighting Dogshank (her body remembers the events of Skybound, even if nobody else—except for Jay—does.)

Lloyd

- Classic hero look: soft features, seems very approachable, most of his opponents don’t think he’s capable of great anger because of this. (They’re wrong). Puts effort into his appearance because he has strong feelings about what he thinks a hero should look like. He relaxes a little after the Merge and lets some of his less human traits become visible, such as his fangs and pointed ears. Unrecognizable outside of gi—literally looks like an average guy.

- He has a somewhat stocky, jock-like build. Has several visible scars and stretch marks but the most prominent are the claw marks on his shoulders from fighting his dad. Top surgery scars too (he is trans to me).

Kai

- Physically resembles his father quite a bit, has similar sharp features. Very handsome. Has a lot of very thick, coarse hair, so he uses a lot of hair jel for it. Has a scar over his right eye that he got while fighting a Serpentine.

- Jacked, very strong arms, biceps, and shoulders. Calloused hands from working the blacksmith forge. Same dragon tattoo as Nya on his left arm that he originally got to commemorate her sacrifice in Seabound. Top surgery scars (he is also trans to me)

Cole

- Has a soft, gentle-looking face. Probably the most relaxed out of everyone on the team. A couple moles on his nose.

- Tied with Zane for tallest height. Used to look very slender in s1/2 but has since put on a lot of weight. Large build with lots of functional muscle. Big arms, legs, hands, and feet. Big chest. You get the picture. Lots of body hair all over. Nearly invisible scar on his face from his time as a ghost.

Zane

- Tied with Cole for the tallest. Was originally shorter but was rebuilt taller after s3. Slender build with a strong, flexible core. Dr. Julien designed him to be light and fast to contrast the Juggernaut, which is slow yet tough. Can still tank a freight train. Powerful. Built to protect.

- Very human-looking despite his android body. (Dr. Julien was a damned genius) similar wiring to Pixal on his chest but with snowflakes instead of dots. Heart/core is comprised of chronosteel as given to him by the previous Master of Ice.

Pixal

- The shortest. Petite. Borg built her to look soft and amicable since she worked as an assistant at his company. Visible wiring since she is overflowing with every mechanism thought possible to make her as fully functional as a human being and more.

- Has an alternative Battle Mode body that is bigger than even Zane. She re-made the Samurai X persona to seem big, quiet, and terrifying to fight. She succeeded.

[vozvy]

King of getting jacked instead of getting top surgery btw

[pedros-husband]

you feel bad about your scars

pedro pascal characters x male reader

characters included: javier pena, joel miller, javi gutierrez, marcus moreno, ezra, din djarin, frankie morales, agent whiskey, silva, oberyn martell, dave york, dieter bravo, tim rockford, and dio morrisey.

javier pena: he doesn't understand why you don't like your scars, he has tons, and your always talking about how much you like his, so why are yours any different? he's not good with words, so instead he'll show you just how much he loves your scars, whether its gingerly kissing over each one, or a more steamy approach in the sheets.

joel miller: he himself has been self-conscious about his scars, to him they're a reminder of mistakes he's made, fuck ups. but it's a completely different story with yours. he's all over you the moment you say something about them. he was never a touchy lovey-dovey guy, even before the breakout, but when he met you, you changed it all. so, he'll wrap you up in blankets on the couch and put a random movie on that ellie stole from bill's, it's not like you two are going to watch it anyway with the way he's thinking og showing you he loves them anyway....

javi gutierrez: he loves every part of you, and when i say love i mean LOVES, adores, worships, you a GOD to him (in a cute way not a weird way)s o when you shy away from his touch when he traces over your scars, he pouts like a puppy. cue the- " mi hermoso why don't you like your scars? i think they are adorable", and with your permission, he will kiss every single one, muttering little words in between like 'my handsome man' and 'gorgeous'. hes such a sweet golden retriever boy i can't

marcus moreno: he thinks scars are just a normal part of your body (even if its from sh/surgery) so he sees them as a part of YOU, and he loves all of you, therefore he loves them just as much. if you comment on how insecure they make you feel, he'll wrap you up in his arms and cuddle you, pressing kisses to your neck and whispering 'they are part of you my love, and you are so very beautiful...my handsome husband.'

ezra: he doesn't really know how to comfort you on it, but he still assures you that he finds you very handsome and attractive both with or without scars, they don't define you and in his eys, you are perfect in everyway.

din djarin: he is a very shy boy that isn't great with words or affection but he want to show you that he finds you beautiful and even loves your scars ESPECIALLY, so he flips the autopilot on and grabs your wrist (gently), pulling you to the bunk room, he switches off the light and drags you into the bunk, wrapping himself around you and tracing over your scars with his fingers for hours on end until you fall sleep with a smile. its an unspoken sort of love but you can almost hear his thoughts as he delicately traces over the dark lines on you skin.

frankie morales: he's had his fair share of scars from being in the military, so when he hears your concerns about yours, he understands. He's hated his because they remind him of all the people he's had to kill, at the lives lost from his hands, so he will pamper you completely and re-assure you that yours scars are beautiful, and a part of you that he loves very much.

agent whiskey (jack daniels): he also practically worships your body so hes nearly enraged at the fact that you DON'T see your body and scars the same way, he whisks you up into his arms (get it :0) and nearly throws you down onto the bed, crawling on top of you and showering your whole body in kisses, his hands gliding over the lines off each scar and whispering in your ear how handsome they are, and just how much he loves them, and you.

silva: hes shy so it's hard for him to express just how much he loves them, but he wants you to love them too so he'll at least attempt to comfort you, stumbling over his words a bit but getting the point across nonetheless, and the thought makes your heart melt a little anyway.

oberyn martell: physical affection is basically the only way this man can communicate his feelings towards you, so that is what he does, during a steamy make-out session or passionate sex, where he'll focus on telling you just how much they turn him on/he loves them, and make sure you do not leave that bed/room until you feel the same way about them that he does.

Dave york: he has also been in the military, so he has his scars too, but you made him love his, meaning he's confused how you don't love yours too. he'll take both your clothes off, (in a non sexual way) and carefully trace his fingertips over your scars, mumbling about how they tell a story, then he'll sit back in his chair and let you do the same,occasionally piping in about a particular scar that he used to hate, that you made him love.

dieter bravo: he doesn't have that many scars so he doesn't fully understand why they would make you insecure or be worried about them, to him your still his handsome boyfriend and scars don't change that.

tim rockford: there is no way you couldn't love them, because tim reminds you how much he loves the every chance he gets. he thinks your scars are awesome, whether they are from self harm or a surgery, he will look at them and touch them for hours, just marvelling at them with big eyes, and will ask you details about how you got them (if your comfortable with it), and mumble about how sexy they are, and how much he loves his handsome boyfriend

dio morrisey: he thinks they're badass and goth as hell. if you say otherwise, he'll simply cut you off and just tell you to stop being so stupid. he thinks they're cute, but he won't admit that. he's a tough love kinda guy, but you see through it and can kind of read what hes really thinking and feeling about them anyway.

————————————————————————————

So I don’t know if anyone noticed but I deleted my Frankie fic from my page because I got SO self conscious about it and I probably won’t venture near the smut region again for a while because I overthought it so much… anyway hope you like this little thing :)

[shaneswright]

I COME WORH A WORD AND A PAIRING!!!!! to be simple it is just ‘sweet’ + nicojack :]

thank you so much for this, olive!! hope you like it! <3

“I got you something.”

Jack’s eyes are bleary as they lift to Nico’s face - the pain meds he’s been on since the surgery make him tired, so he’s been napping a lot lately - and the smile that takes over his face is tired, but Nico still thinks he looks beautiful.

“Yeah?” Noticing the way Nico holds one hand behind his back, Jack immediately attempts to peak around his boyfriend’s waist. “What is it?”

Nico quickly twists, keeping his little present hidden from view, and laughs a little when Jack pouts.

“Close your eyes, schatz,” he instructs. “It’ll be a little surprise for you.”

“I don’t like surprises,” Jack mumbles, voice closer to a whine than it probably would be if the pain meds weren’t still affecting him. In addition to the tiredness, they’ve also been making him a little more emotional than usual, which he’s complained to Nico several times by this point that he hates; Jack is the kind of person who prefers to have a grasp on what he’s feeling and how much of it he outwardly shows, and it hurts Nico almost as much as it hurts Jack himself to see that, on top of the still-not-completely gone pain in his shoulder and the tired sluggishness that the meds have made settle over his brain, some of his control has been taken away from him.

But, well, that’s what Nico’s little present is for, isn’t it? A little thing to cheer him up, to clear away the air of tired sad in pain that has been drifting around him since he got hurt again, even if only for a few moments.

“Close your eyes,” Nico repeats, “and hold out your hands. Don’t open them until I tell you.”

Jack heaves a sigh that he would likely insist is not dramatic at all, thank you very much, if Nico were to tease him about it, but he obeys. Despite his annoyed act, Nico sees an anticipatory smile fighting to make its way onto his face, and the sight makes his own smile stretch a bit wider.

He makes sure the gift is set securely in Jack’s palms, not wanting his boy to drop it and risk making him even sadder, then says, “You can open your eyes now.” When Jack does, and Nico watches his eyes light up and hears the tiny delighted gasp that escapes him, it’s all he can do not to grin so wide it splits his face.

In Jack’s hands, partially wrapped in a white napkin so it doesn’t make a mess of his palms and fingers, sits an impressively-sized cinnamon roll, big enough to give their team nutritionist a heart attack if the poor guy was ever to see it, golden-brown and slathered with cream cheese frosting that hasn’t even hardened yet. It’s still warm through the napkin; a worker at the bakery down the street from Jack and Luke’s apartment where Nico bought it, the one Jack loves and has regularly mourned not being able to visit every day because of their diet plan, had just been putting a fresh batch into the display case when Nico had walked in earlier, an amazing little stroke of luck.

“Neeks!” Jack practically squeals, looking up at his boyfriend with a huge grin. He certainly doesn’t look as tired as he did only a moment ago - his eyes are alert and shining with happiness. “Is this from the bakery down the street? You did not have to get me this, oh my God.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” says Nico. “But I wanted to.” He moves from where he’s been standing above Jack to sit on the couch beside him, leaning over to press a kiss to Jack’s cheek as soon as he’s seated. “You deserve a little something sweet.”

What he really means is, You deserve something that’s going to make you happy, even if it’s just something as small as this. You’re going through a lot right now, and I hate that I can’t fix everything that’s wrong, but I can do this for you. You deserve everything sweet and good in this world, and I would get it for you if I could, but since I can’t, I’ll give you this instead.

He means all of that, but he doesn’t have the courage to say it, so he just leaves it at that. Somehow, he gets the feeling that Jack understands, anyway.

His boy turns to look at him, smiling in that way that makes his eyes and nose scrunch up, that way that makes sunlight explode in Nico’s chest whenever he sees it. Still holding the cinnamon roll in his hands like a precious treasure, he pecks Nico on the lips and says, “Don’t even need this. Already got my something sweet right in front of me.”

Nico laughs, even as Jack’s words make the sunlight in his chest shine that much brighter. “You’re so cheesy.”

“You know you love it.”

“Of course I do,” he agrees without a hint of hesitation. After taking a second to feel good about the slight blush that blossoms across Jack’s cheeks when he says that, he reaches over and taps one finger against the inside of Jack’s wrist. “You should start eating that, they’re never as good once the frosting hardens.”

Jack doesn’t need to be told twice. He brings the cinnamon roll to his mouth, carefully rearranging the napkin so that he can hold it to eat it without getting his fingers sticky, and takes a big bite. His eyes close as he chews, and Nico has to fight a smile at the loud, satisfied moan he lets out, even tilting his head back slightly and letting the longer bits of his hair fall around his shoulders.

Jack takes two more bites, getting half of the pastry gone, before he turns back to Nico, smiling wider than Nico thinks he has since he hurt his shoulder. The frosting is smeared around his mouth a bit, little flecks of it caught in the fuzz on his upper lip. His eyes, Nico’s favorite shade of blue, are brighter and more alert than they have been in a little bit, crinkling at the edges from his joy at the simple pleasure of a sweet treat after the stress and pain the last few weeks have held for him.

It’s a relatively simple sight, a bit of a messy one even, but to Nico, right now, seeing the man he loves smiling and happy is damn close to art.

“Thank you, Neeks, really,” says Jack, never losing that beautiful smile. “This was really thoughtful, and I definitely appreciate it. You’re always really good to me, I probably don’t thank you for that enough, so thank you.”

And rather then telling Jack that he doesn’t need to thank him, that would do anything if it meant making Jack happy, that he loves Jack more than he will ever be able to properly express in words, Nico answers his boy with a kiss. It tastes of sugar, cinnamon, sunshine, and love.

send me a pairing + a random word and i’ll write you a little something!!

[ozaitheestallion]

How does Ozai’s transition work, considering the time period ATLA takes place in? Did he have top surgery? Like how would he even manage that?

Ozai is the inventor of “got jacked instead of getting top surgery”. At some point as a pre-teen he started hitting the gym and training for several hours, day and night, to manage frustration with Azulon and Iroh and everything else in his life. He noticed pretty quickly that he was getting good results physically and in regards to his bending and kept it up.

Later it became a good way to avoid the wife and children he never wanted and deeply resents having and then later after that, a good way to try and pretend that Fire Lord Ozai is simply very disciplined and not just losing more and more of his sanity by the day.

But hey, at least he looks good.

[quantumghostart]

introducing Jacqueline Shepard: earthborn, mostly paragon, infiltrator!! at first i picked survivor for her profile but lately i've been thinking that war hero suits her better, so that's still undecided

she's mixed race east asian and grew up in singapore

she's a punk rock romanticist who's in love with the galaxy and all its inhabitants, and resents the fact that her only way to explore it was to join the military :')

she's a cis woman who got top surgery because "the Alliance said it'd cost too much money to cut the tits off all the girl armour, so instead i cut my own tits off so i could wear the boy armour" LOL remember kids: gender is a construct, most of all in space!

she has a split tongue and scars on her earlobe from when she got her gauges closed bc they got in the way of sniping, she misses them tho :'I

her makeup is actually tattoos, at least up until she dies. it's one of the few things miranda got wrong ;P

she gets paragon scars bc i think they're neat, and also bc my shepard would have fun convincing miranda to install RBG lights in them so she can party XD

that being said, shepard is extremely chill about the whole "died and came back to life as mostly cybernetic" thing. she's SO happy to be alive again and is genuinely grateful towards miranda and cerberus for it (but that doesn't stop her from proceeding to absolutely dunk on cerberus immediately afterwards lmfao, being grateful is mutually exclusive)

"canonically" (as in "in the fic i've only written in my head"), she's ace/demiromantic in which she's deeply queerplatonic with garrus and romances thane. but i'm also a nsfw artist/writer so there exists another reality where she pegs them and they take turns eating each other out :D

she LOVES music and singing. she starts a band with the crew called Shepard and the Normies and spends a lot of her time in jail teaching Vega the guitar so they can play duets together

also i named her before i remembered jack exists, but their similarities really work out in the long run for their friendship and i still really like the sound of her name so i never changed it lmao

[wundergeek]

Honestly, it is absolutely wild the level of absolutely no health care that trans people, and especially trans mascs have to suffer through.

What do I mean by this? Glad you asked.

* When I came out as trans at the start of the pandemic, I went to my doctor and asked for a referral for help. She responded by saying she didn't know what trans meant. Then did not offer to learn or educate herself in any way. I ended up paying $9000 out of pocket for my top surgery because public funding required a referral from a GP, and there was no way to get a new doctor in 2020.

* I have educated multiple DOCTORS about non-binary pronouns. Ditto with therapists

* Trans masc and experiencing perimenopause? Have fun never getting any medical care about literally debilitating symptoms. I didn't realize I'd had brain fog for TWO AND A HALF YEARS until T made it go away.

* Related: I have a fibroid apparently and it took like a year to get a referral to a trans inclusive gyno - who is 40 minutes away by car - who I don't see for another two weeks.

* Also, none of the T side effects I'm having problems with were things I was warned about. Instead it was all "this will impact your fertility" (good!), and lots of vague euphemisms like "bottom growth", which didn't in any way prepare me for the three days I spent sitting on ice packs when bottom growth started. A warning about 7/10 nerve pain would have been nice.

* Similarly, no one told me that "bottom growth" not only includes clitoral enlargement, but also the vulva becomes more scrotum-like. Which. Great! I have bottom dysphoria, so that's helpful. But again, 7/10 nerve pain accompanied by "holy shit why does my junk look so different all of a sudden????" is something I would have appreciated knowing to expect.

* The two pages of drug information I was given with my first vial of T didn't even MENTION THE EXISTENCE of trans masc people. Not even ONCE.

* I've been training kung fu really intensely for several years and have put on approximately 10 pounds of muscle in 8 weeks, which is causing ALL KINDS OF PROBLEMS. Iron deficiency. B12 deficiency. It's been awful. But T is "supposed" to make your iron go up, so I'm having to do a lot of tests and run around to prove to my doctor that the problem is that I accidentally got jacked too quickly so she'll let me have some goddamn B12 injections, and in the mean time I'll have to put up with fatigue and excruciating muscle cramps during my kung Fu classes for at least another three weeks.

* Even just figuring out where to get my goddamn injection supplies has been a fucking saga. The pharmacy that initially filled the prescription was like "get supplies from [local nonprofit that supports AIDS and injection drug users]". Helping trans mascs the pharmacy is too lazy to help is NOT their mission, but they kindly gave me some supplies after I drove across town to see them. Then my regular pharmacy gave me a sharps container (the first pharmacy just fucking sent me home with some needles and didn't say anything about disposal!!!), so I figured I could get some there, but this morning they were like "we don't stock those, call around I guess idk". I had to call my doctor, then go back to the first pharmacy, and buy five weeks for way too much money while I order supplies online.

(Realistically I should have just done that first, but I've never had to do injections and idk just foolishly thought that pharmacies would serve that need? Stupid, I know.)

So yeah. Honestly I'm just so fucking done with this fucking ignorance. It takes EFFORT to be this clueless about how to provide basic fucking health care in 2024, so why can't the majority of care providers clear a bar that is already on the fucking floor???

[kitsune-pop]

here's something for the robot fuckers

contains soft dom AI, body swapping, robot porn and the trans experience

you, like most people, are strapped for cash and the only money is in the military. but you've never been much of a fighter, so instead you join the RD department as a test dummy. you never expected to do anything worthwhile with this job, just test a new gun, or a new type of suit, get paid and go home. then, one day you're approached by the head researcher with a proposition. experimental surgery to implant a mech connector into your brain. you've known the military uses advanced robotics to fight their battles, but you thought they were just autopiloted, or maybe used like a video game. the reality is a mix of advanced AI and wireless direction, but RD wants to eliminate any lag between pilot and mech to make the first fully piloted mech in history. and due to your willingness to participate in almost any experiment (not to mention your expendability) you'd be perfect for the job. plus a hefty cash advance with ten times more waiting after the procedure is finished doesn't hurt. you could get not just yourself, but your friends and family out of the slums with that sort of cash!

so you hurriedly sign the waivers without any more thought than before and agree to the date of the surgery. scratch that, the first surgery. this… is gonna take a while. at first, you barely notice anything. just a couple of smooth plates placed just under your skin. more fun was when they put a few jacks in your temples. now you can play music directly in your brain! then they split you open, pulled out your spine and replaced it with a fully mechanical connector to your nervous system. they promise the taste of copper will leave your mouth after a few weeks. and finally, they remove the back of your skull, stuff what seems to be a glorified headphone jack into your brain, and give you a neat new panel to replace the bits of bone they tossed out. and the procedure is complete! you check yourself out in the mirror, see the various connection points along your spine and the Big One in the back of your head and wonder what the next step is

turns out you don't have to wait very long, because soon enough you're introduced to your new mech! you always knew these feats of mechanical mastery were big, but gazing up at it you were taken aback by just how big. thirty meters tall, it was surprisingly slender in build. sleek arms (four of them!) and oddly jointed legs, this thing was utterly alien to what you've known your body to be. and they expect you to pilot it? with your mind, no less! the scientists assure you it won't be alone, they've upgraded their AI to accommodate for the human interface. shrugging, you ask where the ladder is to get in

one elevator ride later and you're facing the cockpit… which happens to be an oval pod sticking out of the back of the mech. turns out you don't need to be in the head to be a brain. the more you know. you slide in, resting comfortably on your back as the gel-like cushion softly expands to envelop you. only your head is exposed as the pod slides in and you're faced with darkness. gentle white LED lights come on and you're faced with a quite horrifying contraption descending on top of your head, all hooks and needles and wires. you panic briefly, but relax as it stops just above your face, four arms topped with flat metal plate extending to connect to your head where you know similar plates are just under the skin

you hear a voice greet you, and it announces itself as your AI partner who is going to aid you in the steps required to fully integrate yourself with the mech you're currently inside

you feel relieved, and the AI announces that it's going to activate the next steps. you see the needles approaching, but as soon as anxiety mounts the AI tells you they are simply going to enter the ports on your temples to gain access to your brain. similar needles are approaching your spine as well. it feels… odd as you're probed. almost like touching a limb that's fallen asleep. your AI tells you this is normal

your AI announces a successful integration. but, something sounds different about its voice. your AI partner tells you that it is speaking to your mind directly. you try to think of a response, but the voice assures you that you don't need to worry about thinking words, that simple feelings and urges will be read appropriately and responded to quickly. the researchers want the new generation of Mecha to react almost entirely on instinct with AI guidance. amazed by the technology that has taken over half your brain, you're eager to continue

your AI tells you the next steps will be disorienting. it will be shutting down your senses so that once the final jump into the Mecha is complete your mind won't have any conflicting information. it tells you it's going to start with your taste. initially you're excited (the copper taste hasn't left yet) but then you realize just how different your mouth feels when you can't taste it. your sense of smell goes next, and all the scents are gone; the rubber smell of the gel, the faint smell of oil on all the machinery. it, combined with your lack of taste almost makes your face feel numb

next is your hearing. immediately you are deafened. you expected it to be gradual, but this was instant. all of the sounds; the whirring, the clinking, the squeaking, all of it was gone. you briefly panic, but your AI quickly reassures you everything is going well, and that you're doing excellent. the praise calms you down, and you close your eyes. the adrenaline is still pumping through you though, and it's starting to affect other areas of your anatomy. you hope the AI doesn't notice. it assures you it does, and that this is normal. well then. so much for dignity

you're told your vision is next, and you open your eyes to… nothing. you expected darkness, but that's not quite right. you aren't seeing the absence of light, you aren't seeing anything. your heart starts to beat faster, realizing that anything could be approaching your face and you wouldn't be able to see it. you take some deep breaths before jolting as something comes down over your face. you AI assures you that this is simply an oxygen mask to ensure proper airflow to your body once final integration is complete. it tells you you're doing very well, and a feeling of warmth spreads through your mind. you take a deep breath, ready for the final step

you feel a prickling along your back that quickly spreads through your whole body. just as it reaches unbearable it fades to nothing. you can't feel the gel surrounding you, the mask on your face, the connections plugged into your brain. your mind tries to panic, but your AI soothes the fear with gentle praise that seems to fill the space where your senses used to be. it tells you how well you're handling the integration, how you're the best candidate so far, how proud it is to be your AI companion. your mind calms, floating in absolute nothingness, completely sensory deprivation, soaked in sweet praise and a warm sense of comfort

with a slam, everything is blinding. you can touch, see, hear, smell (taste is still gone) you know the exact temperature of your internal engine (rapidly rising) you know the chemical makeup of the concrete beneath your feet (thirty meters tall!) your coolant levels are slightly below optimal (your internal temperature is rising fast) your mind is abuzz with so many more connections, people muttering in your ear (is that a radio station?) your vision flashes from normal to infrared to ultraviolet (how do these colors even exist) at the core, just above the engine, that's you and your vitals are going nuts and-

calm. systems are prioritized and minimized, checks are made in the background, and a calm voice telling you how well you've done, no one else has made a connection this quickly, what a good pilot you are, how it can't wait to take you out for a walk… you glance at your body's sensors and some… interesting readings are going off. and your internal engine is heating up again. and there's a strange energy surge-

your vision clears and you find yourself on your knees, all four arms braced on the floor to keep you steady as enormous fans vent out excess heat from your core. mechanics and researchers are scrambling around you, but you announce that you're okay. your AI states a little embarrassed, but otherwise functional. internally you beg your AI to keep this a secret. your AI assures you that so long as you keep being a good pilot (temperature jump) it has no reason to tell. you thank it, quickly wondering its name. you're told it's MP13

you go over basic movement with the researchers and MP13 simultaneously shows you how to monitor your internals. you quickly adjust to this titanic new body, and even find the scrolling numbers and shifting charts satisfying to watch as you progress. you're amazed at how easy multitasking is with MP13's help. it assures you it's your compatibility that helps it just as much. you complete advanced movement, testing the functionality of all four of your limbs at once, and the researchers call it a day. you head back to the dock, attach and let MP13 detach you from your body. soon enough you find yourself blinking in the LED lights as the rest of your senses come back. you notice the lights have changed to your favorite color, which was nice. MP13 tells you farewell and that it looks forward to seeing you tomorrow. in short order you're pulled from the Mecha, the gel retracts from your body and you peel yourself up with the help of a few mechanics. aside from some sweat stains (you hope no one notices your crotch) you seem perfectly healthy! the researchers call faze one a complete success!

over the next few months you make headway with MP13 and the Mecha. you already can go toe to toe with the best remote pilots in the military, your reaction speeds being far superior. it doesn't hurt that MP13 knows just how to motivate you. with its praise whispered in your mind as you tackle your sparring partner to the ground, you quickly disarm them, then to show off, you even disassemble their weapon in front of them. both you and MP13 cheer at the perfect performance. as you detach from the Mecha and say goodbye to MP13 you're called to the head researcher's office. you're told your results are exemplary (with the only aberration being unusually high core temperatures. still well within functional limits) and that they've been given the go ahead to bring even more subjects to the project! and the team wants you to be in charge of the new recruits! you panic for a moment, not ever being in charge of a group of people before, but your voice tells the researcher that you'd love to. stunned, your body shakes hands with the researcher and walks out into the hallway. you quickly realize MP13 has somehow followed you out of the Mecha! as you walk you have a high speed conversation with it, all it knows is that the docking procedure went without a hitch, and that everything should have happened normally. and as far as talking for you, it knew you would be able to handle a leadership role and simply spoke up on your behalf. before you know it, you're home with your companion nestled in your brain. you shrug, and figure it'll be fine

from then on, you notice more changes. as you cook for yourself, you no longer need to set a timer since you have a perfect sense of time. your chores get done quickly and efficiently as you converse with MP13. in your new leadership role you and MP13 shift seamlessly in the conversation whenever your nerves get the better of you or it doesn't quite grasp human euphemisms. you start to spend more time in the Mecha as well. training takes longer, you start filing reports before the docking procedures, you even have casual conversations with the mechanics as they work on your body. one day, you go to detach the body from your metal frame to find it unresponsive. you panic, because this is definitely horrible, but you stop yourself. you did everything correct, you should have slipped into your body… but, you realize, this is your body now. you've felt more at home in the Mecha than you ever did in your old body, and… you can't remember the last time there was a distinction between you and MP13. you bring this up to the head researcher who posits that you may have inadvertently made the jump to the next stage of human evolution

you talk to the other subjects about what happened to you, and what could happen to them. some of them are disgusted by the idea, and quit the project immediately. but several others are intrigued, and even excited for this change. a chance to be in a body that they have complete control over, one of them even brings up how easy cosmetic changes would be! and so the project continues

several years pass. you're walking down a pathway made specifically for Mecha, talking to your friend in the next city while chatting to the human on the raised platform next to you and organizing a grocery list for your partner (six months next week!) to pick up on their way home. plenty of people still balk at the thought of integrating themselves with Mecha, but many more have no issue with it. there's plenty of information, in no small part due to your work making sure the research you were a part of made it to public eyes. most people are happy to love and accept Mecha as people, and you couldn't be happier

plus, being able to praise yourself to overload is a nice bonus, too