#how to study internal medicine

[lupinqs]

paige x reader request!! okay so reader has never dated before (she’s always focused on school and boys around her never seem to “meet up” to her standards….right lol) when she gets to college she meets p and they become really close. they end up falling for each other but reader is conflicted bc she has thought she’s been straight but looking back all the signs were there. she’s never wanted to have sex before (men are scary) but she wants to with p, she trusts her. this could be p talking reader through this realization and/or smut (p being really sweet w her bc it’s her first time yk)!! thank you!!

FIRST TIME ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: your first time is with paige

☆ ━ word count: 5.3K

☆ ━ warnings: smut with plot (honestly just p eating r out)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: my gift to everyone after that hellish lottery… fuck dallas bro 😐😐 also this is not my best work this month has been fucking terrible so my bad

FOR YOU, it’s always been school. School, school, school. By seventh grade, you already knew you wanted to go into medicine. Your parents both work in the field—your mom at the hospital, your dad in his private practice. You grew up hearing their stories over dinner, listening to the ups and downs of their days, feeling that pull towards something important, something that could make a difference. The way they talked about their work, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself there, following in their footsteps.

So, you worked. Hard. From the moment you set your sights on medicine, there was no looking back. High school flew by in a steady cycle of textbooks, flashcards, volunteer shifts, and internships, each one a piece of the puzzle you were putting together. You spent weekends shadowing doctors, hours in study groups, a summer interning at the local hospital where you first learned what a real emergency room felt like. Even then, nothing could shake you from the goal you’d carved out for yourself. You’d known from the start where you wanted to end up: Yale. As a Connecticut native, it felt like a given. You saw yourself there so clearly that the idea of not getting in didn’t even occur to you.

Until it did. And when the rejection letter came, it was like the ground had fallen out beneath you. There was shock, disappointment, embarrassment. You’d done everything right—how had that not been enough? But still, UConn is a good college, and the goal is med school anyway. You tell yourself it doesn’t matter where you get your undergraduate degree, that you’ll just work even harder this time. When it comes to med school applications, there won’t be any mistakes, no missed chances. You won’t let it happen again—you will be going to Yale.

The thing is, school’s been your everything for so long that you don’t have much of a life outside of it. You had a first kiss once, an awkward moment with a boy who you never talked to again. But after that, there hasn’t been anything more. You’ve always been busy, and to be honest, there’s never been anyone who made you want to carve out time. Every relationship around you seemed like a distraction, a place for people to get hurt or get sidetracked, neither of which were part of your plan. Your friends like to tease you about it, saying your standards are too high, that no one will ever live up to the expectations you’ve set. And maybe that was true. Maybe that’s what it is. The boys just don’t meet your standards. You accept that, not caring to pay any mind to them (though they certainly paid mind to you), continuing to stay focused.

But at UConn, things start to feel different. College is strange that way—there’s structure, but there’s also space, a little more breathing room. It’s not like high school, where everyone knew what you were doing all the time, where your schedule was mapped out. Here, people let loose, go out, drink, stay up until all hours for no reason at all. You do it, too, and you realize it’s fun. But you never let it go further, never bother to get any sort of romance or even hook-ups involved in your life—because you’re still who you are. Your studies come first, always. You continuously remind yourself of that. Med school is the goal, and you work towards it every day.

Besides, you’re not even really interested in dating or anything of the sort.

That is, until you meet a certain blonde-haired basketball player.

It happens during the second semester of your freshman year, in a class you’re only taking for the credit. You barely even remember signing up for it—some easy elective with minimal workload to round out your schedule. You don’t care about the subject, don’t even plan on giving it much effort beyond the occasional assignment because you know it’ll be easy anyways. But then she walks in.

Paige Bueckers. You’ve heard the name before, of course. Everyone has. She’s the sophomore basketball phenom, the face of UConn athletics, practically a celebrity on campus. You’ve never paid her much attention—basketball isn’t really your thing—but the buzz around her is impossible to ignore. Still, when she strolls into the classroom, disheveled and running a little late, it takes you a moment to connect the dots. Her hair’s thrown into a low bun, messy strands framing her face. She’s in a gray UConn sweatsuit, the hem of her hoodie slightly frayed, her glasses sitting casually on the bridge of her nose. She scans the room, sees that the only open seat is next to you, and slides into it without hesitation.

“Hey,” she says, flashing you a quick smile before dropping her bag on the floor.

And that’s it. Nothing monumental. Just a simple greeting. But there’s something about her—her presence, the casual ease with which she takes up space—that immediately hooks your attention.

At first, you try to keep your head down. She’s just another classmate, someone you’ll probably never see again once the semester’s over. But Paige doesn’t make it easy to ignore her. She leans over to you during class, whispering comments about the lecture or the professor’s awkward hand gestures. She’s funny—unexpectedly so—and you catch yourself smiling at her jokes even when you try not to.

You notice other things, too. Like the sharp line of her jaw, the way her broad shoulders stretch the fabric of her sweatshirt, the subtle curve of muscle beneath her long sleeves. She’s not the type of traditional feminine pretty that you’d expect, not delicate or polished. No makeup, no carefully curated outfits. But there’s something about her—an almost sculptural beauty, like she’s been chiseled from marble by a particularly ambitious artist. It’s distracting. And you don’t get distracted easily.

When your friends convince you to go to your first basketball game of the season, you tell yourself it’s just for the experience. A chance to break out of your usual routine. But then you see her on the court. And suddenly, everything makes sense. Paige doesn’t just play basketball; she owns it. She’s gorgeous out there, all fire and intensity, her movements fluid and commanding. You find yourself watching her more than the game, mesmerized by the way she moves, just her presence in general.

After that, you start looking forward to class in a way you never have before. It’s not the subject, obviously. It’s Paige. The way she smiles at you when she walks in, the way she leans over to whisper something ridiculous during a particularly boring lecture. She’s the best part of your day, and you don’t even try to deny it.

When the two of you get paired up for a group project, it feels like fate. You go to her apartment to work on it, expecting the same easy banter from class, but it’s more than that. The two of you get off track almost immediately, laughing over something stupid, and before you know it, hours have passed and you’ve barely made any progress. You end up staying way later than planned, both of you scrambling to get back on task before you have to call it a night. By the time you leave, you’ve swapped numbers, and from then on, the texts come easily.

It starts with class updates, but soon it’s more. Late night conversations that have nothing to do with school, Facetimes, too. Hanging out becomes natural: grabbing frozen yogurt, wandering around campus, studying together even when you don’t need to. You talk and talk and talk, and somehow, it’s never boring. Paige has this way of making everything feel lighter, like the weight you usually carry around doesn’t exist when you’re with her.

One night, after one of your froyo runs, you’re sitting in her car. The frozen yogurt is long gone, but neither of you seems ready to say goodbye. The conversation slows, dipping into a comfortable silence. You glance at her, and she’s already looking at you. There’s a shift in the air, something unspoken passing between you. And then, suddenly, she’s kissing you.

You freeze. Not because you don’t want it, but because it’s so unexpected. Your brain can’t catch up with what’s happening, and for a moment, you’re completely still. Paige pulls back almost immediately, her face flushing as she stumbles through an apology. “I’m sorry—I thought—God, I must’ve read that wrong. I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt, shaking your head as you finally find your voice. “I didn’t mind.”

Her eyes search yours, uncertain, and then the silence settles again. Before you can second-guess yourself, you lean back in. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. Her hand cups your jaw, warm and steady, while your fingers find their way to her arm, brushing over the solid muscle of her bicep. The center console is a nuisance, forcing you both into awkward angles, but you don’t care. It’s all soft lips and quiet breaths, a perfect mix of hunger and gentleness.

When she finally pulls away, she drives you back to your dorm, her voice soft as she says, “I had a good time tonight.”

You manage a quiet “Me too,” before slipping out of the car.

Back in your dorm, your roommate is asleep, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your heart still racing. You just kissed Paige Bueckers. A girl. And you liked it. More than liked it—you want to do it again.

The realization hits you like a freight train. You’ve never thought about girls like that before, never let your mind wander there. You always assumed you were straight, just too busy or too picky to find the right guy. But now, as you think about Paige, about her hands on your face, her lips against yours, it all starts to make sense. You never wanted boys. Not really. That kiss in high school with that random guy had felt wrong, awkward. The idea of being with a man had never appealed to you—except for maybe Drew Starkey, but even that felt more like a joke than anything real.

But this? The thought of Paige, of her smile, her laugh, the way she made you feel like you were the only person in the room—that feels real. And it’s terrifying.

Because now you know two things for sure:

You’re gay.

And you really, really like Paige Bueckers.

And it turns out that she really likes you, too.

Because that first kiss turns into another kiss. And another. And now, every time you’re alone together, it happens like clockwork.

The two of you have started hanging out in your rooms more often, the need for privacy overtaking any desire to sit in common areas or go out. Paige’s teammates joke that the two of you have become “homebodies,” but they don’t know the half of it. They don’t know how, as soon as the door closes, her lips find yours, soft and insistent, her hands framing your face as if you’re the most delicate thing she’s ever touched.

You’re not dating—at least, not officially. You haven’t talked about it, haven’t dared to address what’s happening between you. It’s easier this way, or so you tell yourself. But a part of you wonders why Paige doesn’t bring it up. Why she hasn’t said anything about what this is or what it could be. And that bothers you, even if you try to push it to the back of your mind. Then again, you’ve never done relationships, so maybe this in between is for the better—at least, for now.

Tonight, her teammates have gone to Ted’s. Paige had asked if you wanted to go, but when you wrinkled your nose and said, “Not really,” she grinned and said, “Me neither.” So, here you are, alone in her dorm room, a movie playing on the small TV mounted to the wall. Neither of you are watching it.

You’re lying on her bed, her weight hovering above you, and there’s no space, no breath between the two of you. Her lips are on yours, insistent and hungry, her body pressing against yours as if she can’t get close enough. There’s an urgency in her kiss tonight, a need that you can feel deep in your chest. You kiss her back with equal fervor, your hands tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, trying to anchor yourself to her.

Her hands are on your hips, her fingers digging in just enough to make you gasp against her mouth. You feel her smile against your lips at the sound and it makes you smile, too.

And, for the first time, you find yourself wanting more. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, your nerves alight with a buzzing energy that you don’t fully understand but don’t want to lose. Paige seems to sense it too because her hands slide up your sides, her thumbs tracing slow, deliberate lines against your skin.

Her lips leave yours, trailing along your jaw, down to your neck. The kisses are messy and open-mouthed, her breath hot and ragged against your skin. When her hands slip under your shirt, tracing over your stomach, you shiver.

“Can I take it off?” she asks, her voice soft but tinged with want.

You hesitate for a moment before nodding, lifting your arms to help her pull the shirt over your head. It’s gone in an instant, and you’re left in just your bra. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver again, but it’s nothing compared to the way Paige looks at you.

Her eyes roam over you, but not in a way that makes you feel objectified. It’s more like she’s in awe, like she can’t believe you’re here with her, like she can’t believe she gets to see you like this. It’s overwhelming.

You look away, suddenly self-conscious. It’s nerve-wracking, you’ve never done this before, and you know that Paige has. But Paige also knows that you haven’t, which you suppose makes things easier. You feel her fingers catch your chin, gently turning your head back to face her. Her touch is so tender it nearly makes you cry.

“If you wanna stop, tell me,” she says, her blue eyes locked onto yours, her voice steady and sincere.

You shake your head, your heart pounding. “I don’t wanna stop,” you say quickly, and then, after a pause, you add, your face flushing slightly with embarrassment, “I’m just a little nervous.”

She smiles softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Her hands move to your ribs, tracing slow, soothing lines along your skin. “It’s okay,” she murmurs. “You don’t gotta be. I’m right here.”

Her words settle something inside you, easing the tension in your chest. You nod, and she kisses you again, her lips slow and deliberate against yours. The urgency from earlier is still there, but now it’s tempered by something softer, something deeper. You want her closer, impossibly closer.

Her hands slide up your sides once more, stopping just below your chest, and the anticipation alone makes your breath catch. When her palms finally cup your breasts through your bra, her touch is firm yet reverent, and the sensation makes you gasp against her mouth. Your breathing deepens, your chest rising and falling under her hands.

It’s instinctual, the way your hands move to her waist, your fingers slipping underneath the hem of her long-sleeve shirt. Her skin is warm beneath your touch, and you can feel the subtle definition of her abs as your hands explore, your palms smoothing over her sides.

Paige groans softly into your mouth, her body pressing harder against yours as if she’s trying to fuse you together. Then she pulls away just enough to tug her long-sleeve shirt over her head in one fluid motion, tossing it carelessly across the room. The moment it’s gone, she’s back, her lips finding yours again, more insistent than ever.

She’s in just her sports bra now, and you can’t help but let your fingers trail along the edges of it, brushing against the smooth fabric and the warm skin beneath. Paige shivers under your touch, and the knowledge that you’re affecting her this much makes your heart race even faster.

Then you feel her hands move behind your back, her fingers toying with the clasp of your bra. She hesitates, her lips hovering over yours as if she’s waiting for your permission.

You pull back just slightly, your lips still brushing hers as you murmur, “Take it off.”

Her eyes flicker with something intense, something almost vulnerable, as she nods. She unclasps your bra with practiced ease, sliding the straps down your shoulders before pulling it away completely. For a moment, she doesn’t move, her gaze dropping to your bare chest. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard, and when she finally speaks, her voice is low and husky.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” she mutters, her eyes locking with yours for a heartbeat before her lips are on yours again, desperate and consuming.

Her hands return to your breasts, cupping and kneading them in a way that makes your head fall back against the pillows. A quiet whimper escapes your throat, and Paige groans in response, the sound vibrating against your lips.

Her mouth begins to wander, leaving your lips to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, then lower to your neck. She lingers there, her teeth grazing your skin before she soothes the slight sting with her tongue. Each kiss feels deliberate, like she’s trying to memorize the way you taste, the way you react to her touch.

She moves lower, her lips brushing along your collarbone, her breath warm and uneven against your skin. Her hands continue their slow, deliberate exploration of your chest, her thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that makes your breath hitch.

Her lips trace the edges of your breasts, teasing and deliberate, and it’s almost too much. Your fingers tighten their hold on her sides, your nails digging slightly into her skin as you try to ground yourself.

Paige’s lips move with an unrelenting intensity, open-mouthed kisses peppered across your chest as though she’s determined to worship every inch of you. When her mouth closes over one of your nipples, the heat and pressure of her tongue send a jolt through your body, and you swallow hard, trying to keep yourself steady. The sensation is new, overwhelming in the best way, and you feel a steady, growing thrum between your legs that you can’t ignore.

She doesn’t rush, her lips and tongue moving with precision, her hands anchoring you to the bed as if she doesn’t want you to float away. Her mouth trails from one breast to the other, lavishing attention in a way that makes your breath hitch and your fingers curl into the sheets.

“Paige,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper, your chest rising and falling heavily as her lips continue their descent.

She hums softly against your skin, a sound that vibrates through you as her mouth moves lower. She lingers over your stomach, her lips and tongue leaving a warm, wet trail across your skin. When she sucks on a spot just below your navel, you know she’s leaving a mark, but you don’t care. The sensation is intoxicating, her gentle pressure grounding you as your thoughts scatter into nothing but her touch, her presence.

Then, her hands move to the waistband of your sweatpants, pausing just above your hips. Her fingers don’t tug or pull, just hover there, her thumbs brushing lightly against your skin. You glance down at her, heart pounding in your chest, only to find her already looking up at you.

Her eyes are soft, full of a question she hasn’t yet asked, though there’s no mistaking the want clouding her gaze. When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet, careful, “Do you want me to?”

You swallow thickly, your throat dry. Do you want her to? God, yes. It’s not even a question. You don’t just want her—you think you might need her in this moment, need her to fix that ache that’s been building between your legs since she first kissed you tonight.

But it’s scary. Already, you’ve never been this exposed with anyone before, and this—this is something else entirely. A deeper kind of intimacy, one you thought you’d be ready for but now realize the weight of. Whenever you pictured what your first time might be like, you never really thought it would be too important, but now, here, with Paige above you, it feels monumental.

But who else would it be, if not her? Paige, who makes you feel safe, wanted, adored. You trust her in a way you’ve never trusted anyone. She’s kind, patient, and you like her so much it almost hurts. It only makes sense for it to be her. Even if it’s scary. Even if the thought creeps in—what if you’re not enough for her? What if you’re different from the others she’s been with, and she’s disappointed?

Your thoughts are interrupted as Paige reaches for your hand, her fingers threading through yours in a gentle, grounding gesture. Her eyes stay on yours, searching, concerned. She says your name, softly, once, then again. And then, “Baby…” Her voice cracks just slightly, and it tugs at something deep inside you. “Please don’t feel pressured. It’s okay. We don’t gotta do anything else.”

The way she says it, so sincere and unselfish, almost undoes you. You shake your head quickly, squeezing her hand in reassurance. “I don’t feel pressured,” you say, and though your voice wavers, it’s honest. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before you continue. “Just… just keep going, please.”

She hesitates, her eyes locked on yours for a long moment, as if she’s searching for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt. When she seems to find nothing but your own need and trust, she nods, her expression softening into something almost reverent.

“Okay,” she murmurs, her lips pressing a kiss to your stomach, this one gentler than the ones before, less insistent but no less meaningful. She kisses you again, and again, her hands moving slowly as her fingers hook around the waistband of your sweatpants.

She pulls them down your legs with care, her eyes flicking back to yours to make sure it’s still okay. You nod, your heart racing but your body completely at ease with her. And as Paige tosses the sweatpants aside, her hands return to your hips, her lips never far from your skin, and you feel nothing but trust, nothing but her.

She places feather-light kisses along your inner thighs, moving slowly, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin in a way that makes your breath hitch. Her hands rest on your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles that feel both soothing and electrifying. When her lips press against the edge of your underwear, your heart races so fast it’s all you can hear.

And then, without breaking her rhythm, she tilts her head slightly and presses a soft, lingering kiss right over your clothed clit. The sensation is light, almost teasing, but it sends a shiver coursing through you. You take a shaky breath through your nose, swallowing hard, because she’s barely touched you, and already your body feels like it’s on fire.

When her fingers slide to the waistband of your underwear, she pauses, her eyes flicking up to meet yours. The unspoken question is there again, and this time, you don’t even need to think about it. “Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, nodding as your chest rises and falls a little faster.

Paige nods back, her expression soft but full of intent, and she hooks her fingers around the elastic, sliding your underwear down slowly, carefully, as if she’s unwrapping something fragile. The cool air against your skin makes you shiver, and when her gaze lowers, taking you in fully for the first time, you feel your face heat up, a mixture of anticipation and self-consciousness twisting in your chest.

Instinctively, your legs start to close, but Paige catches them gently, her hands warm and steady as she presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Don’t hide,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. When you don’t immediately relax, she looks up at you, sincerity written all over her face. “You’re so pretty, baby,” she says, her words soft but firm, like a promise.

Her reassurance eases some of the tension, and when she presses another kiss to your thigh—this one closer to where you want her—you let your legs fall open again, trusting her. Paige doesn’t rush. She kisses along your thigh again, then again, each one inching closer to where your body feels like it’s burning.

And then she’s there, her breath warm against your clit as she places the softest kiss there. The contact has you gasping quietly, your hips shifting involuntarily. She pauses, letting her lips linger, as if testing your response. When you let out a quiet, broken sound, she pulls back just slightly, her eyes lifting to yours as if checking one last time.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” she whispers, her hands smoothing up and down your thighs. You nod quickly, a whispered, “Okay,” tumbling out, though it feels like an understatement.

And then, without wasting any more time, Paige’s tongue slides along your core. That alone is enough to make your whole body flex, your stomach shuddering. Before you even get to process that foreign feeling of her tongue running up your slit, Paige presses her mouth against your clit completely, rolling her tongue right to the collection of nerves.

Her tongue alternates between soft, sweeping strokes and precise flicks that have you gasping for breath. It’s almost too much, and yet, not enough all at once. You bite your lip, trying to stay quiet, but a moan finally escapes when her tongue moves a certain way, hitting a spot that has your whole body tightening. The sound you make is desperate, unrestrained, and your face flushes in embarrassment. But Paige doesn’t seem to mind—if anything, she doubles down, a soft moan escaping her lips, vibrating against you that sends a fresh wave of pleasure rolling through your body.

Jesus Christ, she’s good at this. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it makes you wonder how many people she’s been with, how much practice she’s had to make you feel like this. But then her tongue slips inside you, making you forget any and all of your thoughts, before it slides back out and smoothes back along your clit.

“Mmm, P,” you manage to gasp, your voice shaky and uneven. She glances up at you, her gaze meeting yours, and the sight of her—eyes dark with want, lips glistening—sends heat flooding through you. When she holds your gaze and tilts her head just slightly, her tongue hitting that same perfect spot again, your head falls back against the pillow, a breathless cry slipping out.

“Right there?” she murmurs, her voice low and muffled against you. The vibrations of her words are enough to make you tremble, and all you can do is nod, your fingers tightening in her hair as you whisper a choked, “Yeah—yes, shit.”

Paige doesn’t let up for a second, her lips and tongue working in seamless harmony to drive you closer and closer to the edge. It’s overwhelming, how good she is at this. Every flick of her tongue, every deliberate motion feels impossibly intentional, like she knows exactly what to do to unravel you piece by piece. Your thighs tense around her, hands tangling into her blonde hair as you press her closer, hips shifting instinctively to meet her movements.

Her hands grip your thighs firmly, keeping you steady as she focuses all of her attention on you. You can feel the intensity in every motion she makes—each swirl of her tongue, every press of her lips against you is filled with purpose. She’s completely locked in, as if nothing else in the world exists but you. The tension in your stomach coils tighter and tighter, your breaths coming in short, shallow gasps.

The noises slipping from your lips are no longer something you can control. You’ve never felt anything like this before, never imagined something could feel this good. Your hips move against her instinctively, searching for more, for everything she can give you. And Paige? Paige meets you exactly where you are, matching your every movement with a rhythm that drives you absolutely wild. As your legs begin to shake, she seems to sense your need for something more, and she slides her hands beneath your thighs, lifting your legs and placing them over her shoulders to get ever closer to your wet, dripping cunt.

“Fuck,” you breathe, your voice trembling as the pressure builds higher and higher. You’re teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body alight with sensation. Paige doesn’t stop, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration as her her mouth becomes more precise and focused, tongue swiping so quickly against your wetness that you can tell she’s determined to push you over. “Paige, I think I’m gonna—”

You feel her nod against you, her tongue chasing the movement, and, between her kitten-licks and sucks, she gasps, breathless herself, “I know, I know. I gotchu, ma.”

And when she dives back in, taking your clit into her mouth and sucking it, her teeth scraping against you, her head shaking with the effort, that seems to do it. Your body tenses, toes curling as you gasp her name again, louder this time. The dam finally breaks, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you so intensely that it leaves you trembling. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as your hand grips Paige’s hair tightly, holding her to you as your orgasm overtakes you, your pussy dripping.

Fuck.

Paige doesn’t pull away, her hands steady on your thighs as she guides you through it, her tongue slowing its movements but not stopping, easing you gently down from your peak. Your body shudders with aftershocks, and you’re left breathless, your heart pounding wildly in your chest.

When Paige finally pulls back, her lips are swollen and glistening, a soft, almost smug smile on her face. She crawls up your body, pressing a kiss to your hip, then your stomach, before finally reaching your lips again. Her kiss is soft, tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of what just happened.

“Hey,” she murmurs against your lips, her voice gentle as she brushes a strand of hair from your face. “You good?”

You nod, still catching your breath, and manage to whisper, “That was… fuck, P.”

Paige grins, her fingers lightly tracing circles along your side. “Did so good for me,” she murmurs, her voice warm and affectionate. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Her words make your heart flutter, and you bury your face in her neck, a shy smile spreading across your lips. Paige wraps her arms around you, pulling you close as you both settle into the bed. The steady rhythm of her breathing against you is soothing, grounding you after all of… that.

“I’m really glad it was you,” you murmur softly, your fingers idly tracing patterns on her shoulder.

Paige presses a kiss to the top of your head, her voice low and full of sincerity as she replies, “Me too.”

[fatliberation]

hi, i'm a fat person who is just starting to learn to love and appreciate my body and i'm very new to the fat community and all that.

i was wondering if you could maybe explain the term ob*se and how it is a slur. i've never heard anything about it being a slur before(like i said, i'm very new here) and was wondering if you could tell me the origin and history of the word or mayy provide links to resources about it? i want to know more about fat history and how to support my community but i'm unsure of how to start

Welcome!

Obesity is recognized as a slur by fat communities because it's a stigmatizing term that medicalizes fat bodies, typically in the absence of disease. Aside from the word literally translating to "having eaten oneself fat" in latin, obesity (as a medical diagnosis) straight up doesn't actually exist. The only measure that we have to diagnose people with obesity is the BMI, which has been widely proven to be an ineffective measure of health.

The BMI was created in the 1800s by a statistician named Adolphe Quetelet, who did NOT sudy medicine, to gather statistics of the average height and weight of ONLY white, european, upper-middle class men to assist the government in allocating resources. It was never intended as a measure of individual body fat, build, or health. 

Quetelet is also credited with founding the field of anthropometry, including the racist pseudoscience of phrenology. Quetelet’s l’homme moyen would be used as a measurement of fitness to parent, and as a scientific justification for eugenics.

Studies have observed that about 30% of so-called "normal weight" people are "unhealthy" whereas about 50% of so-called "overweight" people are “healthy”. Thus, using the BMI as an indicator of health results in the misclassification of some 75 million people in the United States alone. "Healthy" lifestyle habits are associated with a significant decrease in mortality regardless of baseline body mass index.  

While epidemiologists use BMI to calculate national "obesity" rates, the distinctions can be arbitrary. In 1998, the National Institutes of Health lowered the overweight threshold from 27.8 to 25—branding roughly 29 million Americans as "overweight" overnight—to match international guidelines. Articles about the "obesity epidemic" often use this pseudo-statistic to create a false fear mongering rate at which the United States is becoming fatter. Critics have also noted that those guidelines were drafted in part by the International Obesity Task Force, whose two principal funders were companies making weight loss drugs. Interesting!!!

So... how can you diagnose a person with a disease (and sell them medications) solely based upon an outdated measure that was never meant to indicate health in the first place? Especially when "obesity” has no proven causative role in the onset of any chronic condition?

There is a reason as to why fatness was declared a disease by the NIH in 1998, and some of it had to do with acknowledging fatness as something that is NOT just about a lack of willpower - but that's a very complicated post for another time. You can learn more about it in the two part series of Maintenance Phase titled The Body Mass Index and The Obesity Epidemic.

Aside from being overtly incorrect as a medical tool, the BMI is used to deny certain medical treatments and gender-affirming care, as well insurance coverage. Employers still often offer bonuses to workers who lower their BMI. Although science recognizes the BMI as deeply flawed, it's going to be tough to get rid of. It has been a long standing and effective tool for the oppression of fat people and the profit of the weight loss industry.

More sources and extra reading material:

How the Use of BMI Fetishizes White Embodiment and Racializes Fat Phobia by Sabrina Strings

The Bizarre and Racist History of the BMI by Aubrey Gordon

The Racist and Problematic History of the Body Mass Index by Adele Jackson-Gibson

What's Wrong With The War on Obesity? by Lily O'Hara, et al.

Fearing The Black Body: The Racial Origins of Fat Phobia by Sabrina Strings

[meazalykov]

sports medicine

kika nazareth x collegeintern!reader (requested)

summary: your fall internship at barcelona gives you an unexpected relationship

you tap your fingers nervously on the edge of the desk, glancing around the small medical room you’ve been assigned to for your fall internship.

the laminated poster on sports nutrition hangs a little crooked on the wall, and your stethoscope rests casually around your neck, but your nerves make everything feel out of place. 

it’s your first day working with barcelona’s womens team, one of the top women’s football teams in the world, and you’re supposed to be composed, professional. but it’s a lot. 

you’re a student studying sports medicine, and now you’re actually here, taking care of the health of some of the most elite athletes on the planet.

you’ve been warned that it’s going to be a busy fall—players constantly in and out for treatment, checkups, and recovery routines. and you know it’s your chance to prove yourself, to get a taste of real sports medicine. 

you didn’t expect the whirlwind to begin immediately.

the door swings open, and a younger woman steps inside. she’s tan ans her ponytail is loose from the amount of running she had to do. she looks tired. 

she’s in training gear, a barcelona crest proudly emblazoned on her shirt, and you realize quickly that this is one of the players you will be assigned to throughout the season. 

“hey, i’m kika,” she says with an easy grin, eyes catching yours for a moment longer than expected. 

“coach told me to come get checked out. i felt fine before coming to training but now i feel kinda off.”

you clear your throat, forcing a smile as you motion for her to take a seat on the examining table. 

“sure. i’m y/n by the way. let's see what's going on. what kind of symptoms are you experiencing?”

she hops up onto the table, the movement casual and fluid, like she owns the place. 

“just... queasy, i guess? and a bit light-headed. probably nothing, but you know how it is. they don't take chances with us.”

you nod, trying to focus on your job rather than the fact that kika’s eyes are practically sparkling as she looks at you. 

“yeah, of course. it’s good to check everything out just in case.”

you go through the routine questions—how long she's been feeling like this, any other symptoms, if she's been drinking enough water—and as you do, you can't help but notice how kika’s watching you, like she’s reading you as much as you’re reading her. 

it’s... disarming.

“so, y/n,” kika says, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a playful smile, “is this your first day? i haven’t seen you around before.”

you chuckle, reaching for your stethoscope. “yeah, it is. fall intern. studying sports medicine at barcelona uni.”

“ah, an ambitious one. i like that,” she teases, tilting her head as if to study you better. 

“and now you’re here, dealing with a bunch of footballers.”

you bite back a laugh, shaking your head as you gently place the stethoscope on her back. “breathe in for me.”

kika does as she’s told, and you listen carefully to her breathing, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of her heartbeat rather than how close you are to her. how you can feel the warmth of her skin through the stethoscope.

“all good?” kika asks, turning her head slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. “or are you just trying to spend more time with me?”

“all good,” you reply, feeling your face heat up just a bit. you step back and busy yourself with making notes on your clipboard. 

“it’s just a routine check.”

she swings her legs back and forth, the motion easy and casual, but there's something in her eyes—something playful, curious. 

“well, i don’t mind. you can do all the checks you want.”

you pause, pen hovering over your clipboard. it would be so easy to play along, to let yourself fall into the rhythm of kika’s teasing. but you remember—you're supposed to be professional, and the last thing you need is to get wrapped up in some kind of... situation with a player. and yet, as you glance up and catch her gaze, it’s like she can see right through you.

“so... y/n, how long’s this internship?” kika continues, leaning back on her hands, the movement making her seem even more relaxed, more comfortable in your space than you are.

“just for the fall,” you say. “then it's back to classes in the spring.”

“hmm. a shame. guess i’ll just have to get to know you real quick, huh?”

you can’t help the small laugh that escapes you, shaking your head as you reach for a thermometer. 

“open up,” you say, trying to maintain your composure. kika obediently opens her mouth, and for a moment, there's silence as you take her temperature. 

it’s hard not to notice the way she watches you the whole time, her gaze lingering on your face, your hands.

when it’s over, kika smirks. “so, doc, what's the diagnosis? am i gonna live?”

you roll your eyes playfully, scribbling down more notes. 

“probably. just make sure you stay hydrated, get some rest. if it gets worse, come back and we’ll figure out what’s going on by running some scans.”

she hops down from the table, but instead of heading for the door, she takes a step closer to you, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of her sweat and the grass from the pitch. 

“oh, i’ll be back,” she says softly, her voice dropping just a bit. 

“even if it’s just to see your face again.”

your breath catches, and for a moment, you're caught between stepping back and stepping forward. there’s something intoxicating about her—her confidence, the way she speaks to you like she already knows you'll say yes to whatever she asks. 

but you know better. or at least, you think you do.

“well,” you manage to say, clearing your throat as you put some space between you. 

“let’s keep things professional, okay? i don't want to get in trouble.”

kika raises an eyebrow, her smile widening. “hey, i’m all about being professional. i mean, i haven't even asked for your number yet.”

you feel your heart race at her words, but you force a laugh, shaking your head as you move to open the door for her. “goodbye, kika. remember to rest and drink water.”

she salutes playfully as she walks out, turning back to give you one last lingering look before she disappears down the hallway back to the locker rooms. 

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding, leaning back against the door. your hands are shaking slightly, and you can still feel the warmth of kika’s presence in the room, like she left a part of herself behind. 

you remind yourself that you’re here to work, and to learn. however, it's not your fault that your university put you in a situation where you’ll be around a bunch of hot footballers. 

a few days pass, and you settle into the rhythm of your internship. the players come in and out of your small clinic room—mapi and salma with minor injuries, some like esmee coming in for quick checkups. all of the girls like you already. 

this job keeps you busy, and you start feeling more at ease in your role. 

however, kika is stuck in your mind. every time you hear her laugh echo down the hallway or catch a glimpse of her training on the field, your heart races a little faster.

you tell yourself you’re imagining things when you think you catch her glancing at you during practices. 

on the fifth day of your internship, she makes it clear she hasn’t forgotten about you.

you’re organizing the shelves when she saunters in, that familiar smirk plastered on her face. 

“doc, you got a sec?” she asks casually, like you two are old friends.

 

you glance up, swallowing down your nerves. “what’s up, kika? everything okay?”

she steps closer, close enough that you can see the sweat rolling down the side of her neck, glistening in the overhead light. it takes everything in you not to get distracted. 

“yeah, well, i might've pulled something. my thigh. thought you could check it out.”

“your thigh?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “during training?”

she nods, eyes twinkling mischievously. “yeah, you know how it is. thought i’d come straight to my favorite nurse for some... extra attention.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. “okay, sit down. let’s have a look.”

kika hops up onto the table, the movement fluid, practiced, like she’s done it a hundred times. she stretches out her leg, exposing her toned thigh, and you pull up a chair to sit beside her, trying to keep your focus solely on your work. 

as you begin to gently palpate her muscles, searching for any sign of injury, kika leans back on her elbows, watching you intently.

“you have really soft hands,” she murmurs, voice low, sending shivers down your spine.

“and you’re really tense,” you reply, trying to keep your tone steady, your focus on the task at hand. but it’s hard when she’s looking at you like that—like you’re the only person in the room, the only thing that matters. 

you work your fingers along her thigh, feeling for any sign of strain or swelling, but all you can think about is how warm her skin is beneath your touch. “try to relax.”

she chuckles, the sound deep and husky. “hard to relax when someone as cute as you is touching me.”

“kika...” you try to sound firm, but your voice falters, and she catches it. she always does. you know you shouldn't be encouraging this—whatever this is—but her words make your heart skip a beat, and it's like she knows exactly how to break down your walls.

“what?” she says innocently, her lips curving up into that infuriatingly charming smile. “i’m just saying what i’m thinking. is that so wrong?”

you clear your throat, trying to regain control. “okay, well, everything seems fine. no serious strain, but you should rest and ice it just in case. tell the coach to let you see out for today.”

“hmm, i’ll rest if you promise to take care of me,” she says, her voice softening into something almost vulnerable, but you know better—she’s just trying to get under your skin. and it’s working.

“i think you’ll survive, kika,” you reply, standing up and putting some space between you two. 

“just follow the usual recovery routine.”

she stays seated on the table, though, leaning back and studying you with a tilt of her head. 

“you know, y/n, you’re very by-the-book. i admire that. you gotta break the rules a little though, don’t you think?”

you look at her, really look at her, and for a second you wonder what it would be like to let go of all your professionalism, to lean into whatever game she’s playing. 

her eyes are practically daring you to step closer, to do something impulsive. but then you remember where you are, who she is, and what’s at stake.

“depends on the rules,” you say finally, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to put up some kind of barrier between you. “and the consequences of breaking them.”

kika slides off the table, standing so close to you that you have to tilt your head up to meet her gaze. “well, lucky for you, i’m willing to take the risk,” she says, her voice dropping to a whisper. 

“what about you?”

you’re saved by a knock on the door, and you practically leap back as ellie pokes her head in, interrupting the moment. 

“hey kika, coach wants to know how you’re doing. you okay?”

kika doesn’t take her eyes off you, even as she answers. 

“yeah, yeah, i’m good. just getting a little... care from y/n.”

“all right,” ellie says, raising an eyebrow but not pushing further. “see you out there.”

kika gives you one last lingering look before heading to the door. “see you around, y/n,” she says, winking as she walks out.

you let out a shaky breath once she's gone, leaning back against the table, your head spinning. this isn’t what you signed up for—flirtations and teasing smiles from a footballer. 

as the days go by, kika keeps finding excuses to come by your clinic. 

a bruise here, a muscle ache there—nothing serious, but each visit is filled with her charm, her relentless flirtation. 

she brings you coffee one morning, her grin wide and disarming as she hands you the cup. “thought you could use some caffeine for the long day,” she says, fingers brushing yours as you take it.

“thanks,” you say, trying to sound casual, even as your pulse quickens at the contact. “but you really don’t need to keep doing this.”

“doing what?” kika asks, eyes wide with mock innocence. “being nice to the person who keeps me in top shape? it’s the least i can do.”

“right,” you say, sipping the coffee and trying to ignore the way her fingers lingered a second too long. 

“so, what’s the excuse today?”

“no excuse,” kika says, leaning against the doorframe, her eyes never leaving yours. “just wanted to see you.”

your heart races at her words, and you know you should say something to shut this down, to set some boundaries. instead, you just nod, your mouth too dry to respond, and she smiles, like she knows exactly the effect she’s having on you.

“i’ll see you after practice, y/n,” she says softly, and with that, she’s gone, leaving you standing there with a racing heart and a smile you can’t quite wipe off your face.

weeks pass, and you find yourself falling into a routine. every day, you wake up excited to go to your internship, and it’s not just because you’re getting hands-on experience in sports medicine. 

kika has made it her mission to become a constant presence in your life—showing up at the clinic with excuses to talk to you, sitting beside you during team meals where the entire staff is present, and finding any opportunity to make you blush with her flirtatious banter.

one morning, as you're going over your schedule and reviewing your contract for your fall duties, something catches your eye—a clause about "professional conduct." 

you skim over the words, chewing your lip nervously as you read it over and over. it talks about respecting boundaries, ensuring that athletes receive the best care, but there’s nothing—nothing at all—that mentions restrictions on forming personal relationships with the players or coaches of the team.

your mind races. you had always assumed that getting involved, even slightly, with a player was against the rules. now, looking at the text in front of you, you realize it’s not forbidden. 

it's a gray area. and that thought sends a thrill through you—a thrill you’ve been trying to suppress every time kika looks at you with that playful smile, every time she drops by just to see how your day is going.

for the first time, you wonder what it would be like to stop resisting. you tell yourself it doesn't have to mean anything serious, that it's just... letting go a little. letting her in a little.

that day, you decide to let things shift. when kika walks into the clinic after training, there's no excuse this time—no phantom injury or made-up reason to see you. she just stands in the doorway, hands in her pockets, grinning at you.

“hey, doc,” she says, and there's a softness in her voice that makes your heart skip a beat. “are you busy?”

you close your laptop, meeting her eyes. “not really. what's up?”

“thought maybe we could go get lunch, we don’t have our second training until later” she says, tilting her head towards the door. 

“i mean, unless you're tired of me already.”

“i don’t think that’s possible,” you say before you can stop yourself, and the way her smile widens makes you feel like you’re floating. 

“just let me finish up here, and we can go.”

“take your time,” kika replies, her voice smooth, eyes never leaving you as you quickly tidy up your desk. once you're ready, you grab your bag, trying to steady your nerves, and you both walk out together into the warm barcelona evening.

the café kika takes you to is small and tucked away, the kind of place you never would have found on your own. little did you know, mapi showed this spot to kika in the beginning of the season. 

it’s cozy, with mismatched furniture and fairy lights hanging from the ceiling. you find a corner table, and as soon as you sit down, it feels like the world melts away, like it's just you and kika in this tiny bubble of comfort and warmth.

“so,” she says, leaning back in her chair, fingers tapping absently on the table. 

“what do you do when you’re not playing nurse for a bunch of athletes?”

you laugh, stirring the straw in your iced tea. “mostly study. i don't have a lot of free time outside of school and now this internship.”

“ah, see, that's where you're going wrong,” she teases, leaning closer. “you gotta make time for fun, y/n!.”

“easy for you to say. you're living the dream,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you play professional football, travel all over the world...”

“yeah, well, it’s not always as glamorous as it looks,” she says with a shrug. “sometimes, i just want to hang out, get to know people, and not worry about what comes next like having to drop everything for a game or training and stuff.”

you look at her, really look at her, and you realize there's more to kika than just the flirty, confident player you’ve been trying to keep at arm's length. 

there's a person who wants to connect, who sees you as more than just a fall intern.

“well,” you say slowly, “maybe we can help each other out then.”

kika’s eyes brighten. “oh yeah? and how exactly are we gonna do that?”

“i'll let you in on a secret,” you say, leaning forward, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. 

“i might actually be fun outside of work. you just haven't given me the chance to prove it yet.”

kika grins, and it's like the whole room lights up with her smile. “is that so? then i guess we’re gonna have to spend a lot more time together.”

you start hanging out more after that—sometimes it’s just grabbing lunch together, other times it’s you watching the team practice from the sidelines as kika introduces you to some of the healthy players that you haven’t met yet. 

each moment is easy, filled with laughter, teasing words, and a growing closeness that neither of you deny anymore. kika finds every excuse to touch you—a hand on your arm when she laughs, a nudge with her shoulder when you're walking side by side—and each touch sets your skin on fire, makes you feel more alive than you have in a long time.

one evening, after a particularly long day, you’re both sitting on the benches down on the pitch after training, watching the sun set over the pitch. the sky is painted in hues of pink and orange, and there’s a gentle breeze that makes the moment feel almost dreamlike.

kika turns to you, a soft smile on her lips, and you know something’s different tonight—something’s changed.

“y/n,” she says quietly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“i’ve really enjoyed getting to know you. i mean, i know i've been, like, teasing and stuff, but... i like you. a lot.”

your heart skips a beat, and for a second, you don’t know what to say. but then you remember the contract, the realization that there’s nothing stopping you from leaning in—really leaning in—and you make a choice.

“i like you too,” you admit, the words coming out in a rush, like they’ve been on the tip of your tongue for weeks. 

“and i’ve been trying so hard to... to keep things professional, but maybe... maybe that’s not what i want. its not like i have to anyways– nothing in my contract keeps this prohibited.”

kika’s smile is soft and genuine, and she reaches out to take your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. “then stop trying so hard, y/n. just... let it happen. whatever this is, let’s just see where it goes.”

you look at her, at the way her eyes are so full of hope and mischief and sincerity all at once, and you know you can't fight it anymore. not when it feels this right. so you squeeze her hand, leaning closer, letting the world fall away around you.

from that moment on, things are different. you don't hide the way you look at kika anymore, don't shy away when she leans into your space or teases you about your “serious intern face.” you flirt back, let yourself enjoy the way she makes you feel—giddy, alive, wanted. 

you find yourself looking forward to her visits to the clinic, to the way she makes you laugh when you’re stressed and makes you feel like you’re more than just another person passing through her world.

and as the fall closes, you start to realize that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you're supposed to be.

a few more weeks go by, you grow closer to kika. your late-night texts turn into late-night phone calls, and you start sharing more about yourself. kika opens up too, telling you about her life as a professional footballer—the pressure, the joy, the sacrifices she's had to make to be where she is. 

it feels like your lives are starting to intertwine, and it’s both exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

one friday night, you’re out with some college friends at a bar in downtown barcelona. you’re celebrating about graduating university in the spring. it’s been a while since you’ve let loose, and you’re determined to enjoy yourself, dancing and laughing over drinks. 

the music is loud, and you find yourself swaying to the rhythm, the warm glow of the bar's lights making everything feel surreal. you're lost in the moment when you feel a familiar pair of eyes on you.

you turn around, and there she is—kika, standing near the bar with aitana and fridolina, a smirk on her face and an eyebrow raised as she takes in the sight of you. 

her hair’s down, and she's wearing casual clothes—a free people’s blue romper and a snug white t-shirt underneath. 

you’re struck by how different she looks outside of her training gear. shes more... approachable, more real. 

if possible, even more attractive.

“well, well,” she says, making her way over to you, the grin on her face wide and teasing. 

“look who knows how to have fun after all!”

you laugh, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks as you run a hand through your hair. “i didn’t expect to see you here.”

“yeah, i am out with some teammates,” she says, nodding back toward the group at a nearby table. 

“but when i saw you dancing... well, let’s just say you got my attention.”

you glance around, feeling a bit self-conscious, but there’s something about the way kika’s looking at you—like you’re the only person in the room—that makes you want to be bold. 

“want to dance?” you ask, holding out your hand.

kika’s eyes light up, and she takes your hand without hesitation, pulling you closer. 

“i thought you’d never ask.”

the music swells around you, and you move together to the beat, your bodies pressed close, her hand on your waist. it feels like the world fades away, like it’s just the two of you in this crowded bar. 

the air is thick with the smell of sweat and spilled drinks, but all you can think about is the warmth of kika’s body against yours, the way her eyes flicker between your face and your lips.

you sway together, her arm wrapped around your waist, and every movement feels electric, every touch like it’s setting your skin on fire. 

at one point, kika leans down, her lips brushing your ear, and you shiver at the sensation.

“i think i like you like this,” she murmurs, her voice low and warm. “all... free. wild.”

“you make it easy,” you reply, turning your head to meet her gaze, your faces inches apart. the tension between you is palpable, and for a second, you think she might kiss you right there in the middle of the bar.

but instead, she pulls back, though her hand stays firmly on your waist. 

“come outside with me?” she asks, her eyes pleading, and you nod, letting her lead you through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

outside, it’s quieter, the noise of the bar muffled by the thick walls. kika leans against the brick building, pulling you close so that you’re standing between her legs, your hands resting on her shoulders.

“i really like you, y/n,” she says, and this time there’s no teasing, no playfulness—just honesty. 

“i know we’ve been dancing around this, but... i want to be with you. for real.”

your heart pounds at her words, and you realize that you’ve been waiting to hear them for so long. 

“i want that too,” you admit, your voice barely a whisper. “but... what about the team? what about work?”

kika shakes her head, reaching up to cup your cheek. “i don’t care about any of that. all i care about is you.”

before you can overthink it, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips to hers. the kiss is soft at first, gentle and tentative, but when kika pulls you closer, it deepens, and all the tension, all the unsaid words, pour into that moment. 

her lips are warm and firm against yours, and you melt into her, the world spinning around you in a blur of lights and sounds.

after that night, everything changes. you and kika start spending more time together outside of work—taking late-night walks along the beach, sneaking kisses in empty hallways, staying up talking until the early hours of the morning. 

you become a regular at her games, sitting in the stands and cheering the team on, feeling your chest swell with pride every time kika scores or makes a brilliant play.

and in the clinic, you start to let your guard down more. when kika comes in for her “checkups,” you flirt back shamelessly, letting the banter flow freely between you. 

the rest of the team starts to notice, teasing both of you whenever they catch kika lingering by your side a little too long or when they see you blushing at one of her comments. but it’s all in good fun, and you realize how lucky you are to be surrounded by people who support you, who support whatever it is you and kika have.

the fall comes to an end, and you find yourself dreading the day you have to leave. 

but then, one afternoon, you’re called into the office of the team’s head physician. you’re nervous, wondering if you’ve done something wrong, but when you step inside, he’s smiling.

“y/n,” he says, gesturing for you to sit. 

“i wanted to talk to you about your time here. we’ve been really impressed with your work—the way you’ve handled the players, your professionalism, your dedication– even the captains mentioned that you’ve developed a good relationship with the players– which we do find valuable.”

“thank you,” you say, trying to keep hope out of your voice. 

“this has been such an amazing experience.”

“well, we’d like to make it a more permanent one,” he says, sliding a folder across the desk toward you. 

“we want to offer you a full-time position as part of our medical team, starting after you finish up your school year. what do you say?”

your mouth drops open, and you can hardly believe what you’re hearing. “are you serious?”

“completely,” he replies with a nod. 

you glance down at the contract, your hands shaking slightly as you pick it up. this is it—the chance you’ve been waiting for, the opportunity to start your career doing something you love, in a place you’ve grown to care about deeply. 

“yes,” you say, a smile breaking across your face. “yes, i’d love that.”

that night, you rush to find kika, practically bursting with excitement as you find her sitting on the sidelines after practice, putting on her nike slides after taking off her cleats. 

when she sees you running towards her, her face lights up with a smile, but she raises an eyebrow in confusion.

“what’s got you all worked up?” she asks, standing up as you reach her.

“i got the job,” you say breathlessly, grinning from ear to ear. “they offered me a full-time position! i’m going to be staying at barcelona.”

kika’s eyes go wide, and for a second, she just stares at you, as if trying to process what you’ve said. and then she’s lifting you off the ground, spinning you around as you both laugh, her joy infectious and overwhelming.

“that’s amazing, y/n!” she says, setting you down and pulling you into a tight hug. “i knew they’d see how great you are. god, i’m so proud of you.”

“and i get to stay with you,” you say softly, your arms wrapping around her neck as you look into her eyes. “no more goodbyes.”

“no more goodbyes,” she repeats, her voice tender as she leans down to kiss you, her lips soft and sweet against yours. and in that moment, everything feels right—the fall, the job, the future you’re building together.

masterlist

[1-800-cr33py]

I know it didn’t win the poll but I humbly ask you to write that RZ! Micheal Myers size kink fanfiction whenever you have the time and if you are feeling up to it🙏

{this is so late and I sincerely apologize TvT}

Sedatives

Tags: Dub-Con, Size Kink, Rough Sex, Choking, Manhandling, Reader is mentions to be a nurse some time ago, blood, knives, overstimulation, Michael is a warning himself. a/: this will most likely be one out of 2 parts anon im so sorry TvT

Sweet thing you were, you’d give the shirt off your own back if someone in need called for it, so giving and so trusting to even the most hardened criminals. It was a wonder how someone like you graced the halls of Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. You, a star-eyed nurse fresh from medical school. The scum and slime that riddled the halls of the hellish “sanctuary” you’d been accepted into. You skip down the halls with your checklist and medicine cart in tow. You were kind. You were happy. You’d given patients who’d hadn’t seen the sun in years the same kindness as one would give to an old friend. But you favored one more than the others.

Michael fucking Myers.

Silent halls.

Odd shadows.

Creaking wheels.

The usual ambiance of Smith’s Grove had finally settled within your nerves after a long long few months. You, with your now worn in uniform, counted the rooms with an intent gaze. On the left, even numbers, and parallel to them were odds. Though it was a weird concept, there was a reason. Those on the left, the doctors deemed ‘safe’ and had the possibility of rehabilitation.

Inmates that resided on the right wing however, well you didn’t quite know if you’re being honest, you weren’t allowed to even breath the wing’s direction yet. But one digresses. Your low heels made a blunt click click click upon the cold floors as you neared your station, medicine cart in tow. Your manicured hand reached for your ID, ringing yourself in as the loud pang alerted you of the unlocked status of the door, which was shoved open by your hip as you passed a polite nod to security. Your trek was cut short however, your overseer tugging you aside with a rather harsh hand.

“ You’re the medicine girl right?”

medicine girl…right. Giving a curt nod he sighed, his breath reeking of cheap coffee and some kind of alcohol. His orders were short, clipped and rather rude. Though the next words he uttered left your mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

“ You’re doing both wards. Kirsten…had an incident. “

Fucking hell.

So now, here you were, approaching your last patient for the night. With security stalking behind you with scowls as they glared at patients through the tiny windows. You gulps, it was never patients that scared you, no. It was the sleazes that worked outside the cells. Their wolffish stares and ugly grins. You shook your head, you were approaching Michael’s cell.

You didn’t know much about him, only whispers of the monster, the brute that killed most of his family. A grade A killer, someone that should be locked away from society if not for Mr. Loomis’s need to study him like some kind of bug. But, you being you, wouldn’t let that stop you from being kind. That’s what irked you most about people here, these patients were still human at the end of the day. They still bled, they still died, they had interests and dislikes and personalities. You sighed, eying the dainty wrist watch. ‘ Just an hour and a half..��� you thought as some scum of a man unlocked the heavy metal door. Eying you as you motioned him to move aside.

“ Careful, he hasn’t seen such a young thing like you in a while…might finally remember he’s got a cock. “ the guard, who’s tag read Pierson, chuckled, elbowing his colleague. You could feel their gaze raking across your body, internally you gagged. Lurching forward was a far easier than you wanted to admit, medicines and needles clattering at the motion as the door slammed behind you, leaving you to jump.

Michael’s room was…interesting looking at it.

Buzzing overhead lights gave some relief as you tended to your cart, organizing the arrangement of pills and sedatives in their respective cup to serve to the inmate, who’s back was turned to you, fiddling with another mask that would surely find its way with the rest that perched upon the greening walls. Finally, you found the correct assortment. Smiling to yourself, you turned to face the mountain of a man.

“ Alright Mr.Myers, here’s your dailies! Dr. Loomis upped your sedatives so if you feel a bit off thats the cause! “ you chirped, leaving the cup a bit of a distance. Like you’d heard from the other nurses, Michael gave no indication of acknowledgment, hands stained with the glue-water mixture. The masks on the wall drew your attention, though you didn’t dare raise a hand to touch the precious things, knowing how it felt to have your art defiled by ignorant hands. “ You have a lovely night Mr. Myers! The mask are gorgeous as well! Truly a work of art. “ you smiled, warmth radiating from your aura.

Oh sweet thing. What have you done?

[oepionie]

—VOICELINES ABOUT YOU. various

Synopsis: Yuuken interrogates some of the boys on the campus about their special someone. Hearing their loving ramblings on you was certainly not what he expected.

Tags: Self-Indulgent, Fluff, Angst if you squint really hard, Reader is not Yuu, Tweels are a bit...too mad in love, I brainrotted so hard, You're Malleus' fiancee, Malleus doesn't know how to tell a joke someone help him

Cw. Riddle's Mother, Overworking, Hospitalizations, Poor living conditions, Illness, Bullying, Allusions to violence, Marriage, Tad bit of possesive behavior, Description of stabbing

WordCount: 2k+ | 💌Masterlist

R.R | RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

About: Riddle's Rose

"Rose? I see you've met that troublesome intern at the library. That's a nickname. Their name is (Y/N) and yes, they are my partner." "A-Ah? I'm so direct? Well, you asked me a question! Though...I would prefer that this discussion end here. I prefer to keep my relationship with them private.”

Chat: Childhood Memories

“Ever since we were young, (Y/N) was quite rebellious. The complete opposite of me as a child, really. They were always sneaking off during the night and coming over to visit me. Mother...didn't approve of them and often screamed in their face. I was quite terrified she would scare them away, though that didn't stop them at all. Haha, I think they got even more persistent afterwards. I am truly glad I met them.”

Personal Story: To the Hospital

“Again...? I see. Thank you, Trey. Hmph, I'll have to schedule another visit once more."

> "Riddle? What's wrong?"

"Ah, Yuuken—It's Rose. They've gotten admitted to the hospital...again. (Y/N) is quite impulsive and tends to bite off more than they can chew. On more than occasion, like now, I would find out about their hospital admissions via Trey days or even weeks after."

>"Aren't you dating? Why aren't they telling you?"

"They claim that they withhold the information from me out of concern for my workload or out of fear of being a burden. Though that is—a sentiment I don't understand. Nothing is more important to me than their health."

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R.B | RUGGIE BUCCHI

About: The Photo In His Wallet

"Where is it?! Man, I'm so fucked if I lost it—Oh?! Oi, Yuuken! That wallet's mine! Man, thanks a lot. I really would've been screwed over if it weren't for you." "Eh? The photo? Shishishishi curious, aren't cha? Hmmm...how 'bout this? You get me a steaming hot meat bun and I'll give you a story time about them."

Chat: A Hopeful Future

"My studies? Course I take them seriously! That's what's gonna' put food on the table one day. Plus, I wanna' give (Y/N) the life they deserve—What'd I mean? Well, if I'm going to be their husband, I want 'em to live comfortably. It's not like we need anythin' luxurious, anyways. As long as we're together and there's enough food to go by, it's going to be all right."

Personal Story: In Sickness and In Health

"....that's good to hear. Please look after 'em, granny. Love ya." The call ends and Ruggie sighs. "That's the best news I've received since."

>"News?"

"Guh-?! Man! What's with you and sneaking up on me!? Yeah yeah—you heard right...news. Granny just called me to talk about (Y/N), their health is looking up. Tell ya' what, I knew that deal with Azul was worth it. I managed to snag some medicine and send it home."

>"Oh? Medicine?"

"Yeah. Ever since my first year of high school, they were sick and bedridden. (Y/N)'s parents don't have enough money for a doctor, so there's not much they can do. Of course, I'm out here doin' my best to help too."

"I really...I really wanna see them up and runnin' again. Hey, who knows—maybe we'll get to make flower crowns for the village kids again...together."

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A.A | AZUL ASHENGROTTO

About: An Interrogation

"Yuuken, you’ve met (Y/N), I hear. Well, as their partner, it's only right that I ask you about it. I assume you don't mind. So, what is your opinion of them? Nothing short of perfection, I hope."

"Hm? You think they're nice? Good then."

Chat: Busy Octoboss

"With all the deals, my maintenance of my academic ranking, and my position as Monstro Lounge's manager, my workload is quite substantial compared to most. And, I regret to say that it does get in the way of my personal life, including quality time with my lover. It tears at my heart, yet I cherish how they're so understanding and patient. Still, sometimes I can't help but think I am undeserving of them..."

Personal Story: Deep Sea Bonds

"My childhood is not something that I appreciate or want to remember. Yet, despite everything I've been through, I do think it is pleasant to look back on the days when I met them. You see, (Y/N) was bullied too. They were just like me, relentlessly bad mouthed and hurt by the kids around us. However, they never failed to greet me every day with a bright smile on their face."

>"What a sunny person."

"They'd also always have the courage and bravery to stand up for me, often taking the brunt of the bullying. I wish I could say I did the same for them...but I was far too cowardly back then..."

>"Wow. You two must be really close, then."

"Of course. They've been through a lot.Which is exactly why I won't allow anyone to speak ill of them anymore." Azul pauses, smiling slyly. "Say, Yuuken. You'll tell me if anyone casts aspersions on my Angelfish, won't you?"

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J.L | JADE LEECH

About: A Helping Hand

"Hm? What's that? Ah, you’ve met my darling pearl. I see. I do notice how you’ve been frequenting Monstro Lounge lately…Have you perhaps acquired a romantic interest towards them? No? Hehe, Alright." "Now, to answer your question, yes, that is right; (Y/N) routinely comes over to visit and aid me in my Mountain Treks. I couldn't be more grateful for their assistance."

Chat: The Pearl Ring

"Oya? I see you're curious about the ring I've been crafting. Well, it's for (Y/N). You see, in merfolk culture, we create handcrafted jewelry to serve as a courting gift. This is one of many ornaments I plan on giving them. Though, this one is...particularly unique. Ah, well...(Y/N) Leech does have a nice ring to it, does it not?"

Personal Story: A Jaded Reaction

"Oya? (Y/N) is spending the night at Ramshackle? Whatever reason for?"

>"Grim wanted to have a game night."

"Ah. I see. How...lovely. What's that? My smile is frightening you? Oho, now is it? Hehe, my deepest apologies. We eels tend to be quite...protective. I so anticipate you to take good care of them. And fret not, as long as you keep them away from any harm, no disputes shall arise."

>"Uh...and if something happened?"

"What if something happened...? Well, I'm sure you wouldn't mind being hunted down the face of the earth, tied up, and pulled down to the deepest pits of the blue ocean, where no one can hear your anguished cries for help...Would you?" 

>"..."

"Just joking. I would never do that."

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F.L | FLOYD LEECH

About: A Sea Walnut

"(Y/N)? Aha~~~ You've heard of my little sea walnut? They're so adorable and squishy, yanno!—Is there a problem? If you got a problem with 'em, I'll squeeze you." "Oh? Not scared at all, huh? Ehe~ You sure are ballsy. Tread carefully now, shrimpy~!"

About: Ocean Currents

"Whenever a strong ocean current comes, sea walnut always huddles close to me and grabs my arm. They've always been afraid of being blasted away."

"They used to do that a lot when we were kids, but it never gets old. Hehe~ Sometimes, I lead them to places where the waves are strong, jus' so they can cling onto me! It's so funny to see 'em get afraid and scramble after me when I move too far away. "

Personal Story: Shark Attack

"Hmm~? Oh, what're these bite marks? Rad, aren't they? I got them after fighting a buncha' sharks."

>"Sharks?! Why would you do that?"

"To get these. It's shark teeth. Our anniversary is comin' up, and Jade suggested that I should make some jewelry for them. It's a merfolk courting thing. Azul 'n Jade told me to get them pearls, but I thought that was boring. So, I'm making one with shark teeth instead! Isn't that cool~?"

>"I-I guess, but what happened to the sharks?"

"Ugh. None of them were a fun hunt. The entire hoard swam away so fast. Can you believe it???… I’m not the typa eel who would let my prey get away that easily, though. And it’s not like I had anything better to do. Ehehe! There were so many of those sharks swarming around, but I managed to squeeze them all! Well, it was worth it in the end cuz I got what I wanted. I'll do anythin' for my little sea walnut~"

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J.V | JAMIL VIPER

About: A Hearty Meal

“What am i doing? Well, I'm making some Roast Chicken with Sumac Flatbread. Oh? Who's (Y/N)? Ah, Kalim must have told you, huh. (Y/N) is my partner. They are truly wonderful."

"For example—Though I like to think I'm skilled at disguising my true feelings, the moment I go to see them, they already know what I'm thinking. They have a keen sense of intuition and always seem to know what I need and when I need it. Truly, I'm grateful for such a caring—Ah, I'm sorry. I was rambling again."

Chat: Snake-Eyed Envy

"I can't dispute that a lot of people back home are vying for their affection.That bothers me at times. As Kalim's babysitter-ehem, retainer, I don't have enough time to check in on them every day...However, as cheesy as it sounds, I have yet to meet someone who is as smitten with (Y/N) as I am."

Personal Story: World Left Unsaid

"I soon understood that I was more than the circumstances of my birth, all thanks to (Y/N). In fact, My bond with Kalim has become stronger and more genuine thanks to them. I...realized my hatred for Kalim was just my desire for my circumstances to be different...I didn't hate him at all. Without (Y/N), I would never have understood it."

>"They must be very important to you, Jamil."

"Absolutely. I was terrified that I might lose them after my overblot. But to my surprise, they stayed with me. Naturally, it hurt them, but they were really compassionate towards me and about how much I had to go through."

>"Do they know of what you feel?"

"I...I don't think (Y/N) realizes just how much I cherish them. I don't think now's the right time for that though. I've hurt them too much and I still have a long way to go before I fix things."

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M.D | MALLEUS DRACONIA

About: He's Engaged?!

"I am, indeed, betrothed. Heh. Why are you looking so bewildered, Child of Man? If I'm going to be a king someday, it only makes sense that I would need someone to reign alongside me, no? At first glance, (Y/N) may seem aloof, but as you get to know them more, you'll see that they are actually incredibly lovely and warm."

"You never thought I was one for romance? My, my... What a bold statement, you best learn how to hold your tongue. Have you considered that I could use lightning to smite you where you stand?...Now, now—That was a joke. You don't have to cower in fear."

Chat: Safe And Sound

"My precious treasure tells me that I tend to get protective at times. Though can you really fault a lover for wanting to protect the one who is most important to them in this cruel, ruthless world. One where others will not hesitate to turn on you?"

Personal Story: The Art Of War

"I am actually the first of my lineage to wed someone who is not a noble. You see, (Y/N) is a knight-in-training. And, as you can probably guess, they served as my retainer. To see them at work was truly a magnificent sight to witness. They command attention and radiate strength. While I had always admired them, I could not bring myself to express my true feelings to them. Until...that night."

>"That night?"

"Yes. On the evening of Silver's 16th birthday, someone had rushed at me with a dagger in hand. (Y/N) was the first to respond and took the hit for me...The sound of their screams as the knife tore through their flesh was truly...horrifying."

>"That's horrible! What happened to the guy?"

"Worry not, he was taken care of accordingly....If there is anything I’ve learned from Lilia's many teachings, it’s that the worst calamities that befall an army arise from hesitation. To avoid further offensives, one must deal with and eliminate adversaries as soon as possible. Don't you think so?"

Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and are very motivating on my end!

Taglist: @keedas @spadecentral @crypticbibliophile @pastellepastary @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @anonima-2 @kawaiipotatoghost @ramvuda @sweeneyblue1 @the-lost-anime-dad @chuuchuudreams @taruruchi

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[felinefractious]

[Image Source]

Bengal Cat Coats Are Less Wild Than They Look, Genetic Study Finds [Stanford Medicine]

Bengal cats are prized for their appearance; the exotically marbled and spotted coats of these domestic pets make them look like small, sleek jungle cats. But the origin of those coats — assumed to come from the genes of Asian leopard cats that were bred with house cats — turns out to be less exotic.

Stanford Medicine researchers, in collaboration with Bengal cat breeders, have discovered that the Bengal cats’ iridescent sheen and leopard-like patterns can be traced to domestic cat genes that were aggressively selected for after the cats were bred with wild cats.

“Most of the DNA changes that underlie the unique appearance of the Bengal cat breed have always been present in domestic cats,” said Gregory Barsh, MD, PhD, an emeritus professor of genetics. “It was really the power of breeding that brought them out.”

For a study published online March 25 in Current Biology, Barsh and his colleagues analyzed genes collected from nearly 1,000 Bengal cats over the course of 15 years. Barsh is the senior author of the paper, and senior scientist Christopher Kaelin, PhD, is the lead author.

The results shed light not only on the Bengal cat’s coat but also help answer broader questions about how appearance is encoded in genetics and how different genes work together to yield colors, patterns and physical features.

Wild Origins

Barsh and his colleagues, including Kaelin, use cats and other animals to study the genetics of physical features. In previous studies, they identified genes responsible for the color coat variation in tabby cats and for the unique markings on the Abyssinian cat.

“The big-picture question is how genetic variation leads to variation in appearance,” Barsh said.

“This is a question that has all kinds of implications for different species, but we think that cats offer an especially tractable way to study it.”

From the 1960s through the 1980s, breeders, led by biologist Jean Mills, crossed the wild Asian leopard cat species Prionailurus bengalensis with domestic cats to create a new, visually striking cat breed. Over many generations, the cats with the desired physical characteristics and temperaments were progressively selected and bred. By 1986, the Bengal cat was recognized as its own new breed by the International Cat Association.

Barsh and Kaelin saw Bengals — with their recent genetic origin and unique appearance — as a particularly interesting way to study how genetic variation causes diversity in form, color and pattern. In 2008, they began reaching out to cat breeders, attending cat shows, and collecting cheek swabs and photographs of Bengal cats.

Genetic Surprises

The Stanford Medicine team suspected that Bengal cats might give them an accessible way to probe the genetics of wild cat colors and patterns that had evolved naturally. But after sequencing 947 Bengal cat genomes, they found something surprising: There were no parts of the wild Asian leopard cat genomes that were found in all Bengal cats.

“Nearly every Bengal cat breeder and owner has this idea that the distinctive look of the domestic Bengal cat must have come from leopard cats,” Barsh said. “Our work suggests that’s not the case.”

Instead, the genetic signatures suggested that the unique appearance of Bengals was a result of variations in genes that had already been present in domestic cats.

The team found something similar when they looked specifically at “glitter”: About 60% of all Bengal cats have particularly soft, iridescent fur that glitters like gold in the sunlight. A mutation in the gene Fgfr2, they showed, is responsible for glitter and comes not from leopard cats but from domestic cats. Glitter and the underlying Fgfr2 mutation are nearly specific to Bengal cats. Interestingly, the mutation reduces the activity of the protein encoded by Fgfr2, rather than rendering it inactive as many mutations do. This sheds light on how variations in genes can cause subtle changes in appearance, the researchers said.

Finally, Barsh and Kaelin’s group analyzed the genetics of “charcoal” Bengals, a rare subset of the breed with darker coloring. They uncovered a leopard cat gene linked to the charcoal color, but only when it was combined with domestic cat genome. The leopard cat gene, known as Asip, essentially doesn’t work as well when it’s mixed with the domestic genes — a phenomenon known as genomic incompatibility. So, in leopard cats, Asip doesn’t cause charcoal coloring, but the same gene in domestic cats does.

“Hybridization between different species can happen naturally and is responsible for the small amount of Neandertal DNA found in many human genomes," Barsh explained. “But the wild leopard cat and the domestic cat are more different from each other than humans are from chimpanzees, and it’s remarkable to see how DNA from these distantly related species can exist and work together in a popular companion animal.”

A Boost for Biology and Breeders

A better understanding of the genetic origins of Bengal cat traits is already helping Bengal breeders fine-tune the way they breed animals to create new colors and patterns. Over the past 15 years, Barsh and Kaelin have worked closely with Bengal cat organizations and given talks at cat shows. They often return ancestry and genetic data to owners to help guide their breeding.

“Breeders are extremely interested in our data,” Kaelin said. “They not only want to contribute their cats’ DNA but they also want to be involved and help analyze data and hear about our results. It’s been a great collaboration and a true example of citizen science.”

The researchers say there are lessons to be learned in just how powerful artificial selection can be, as the Bengal cat coats could probably have been selected for without the help of the Asian leopard cat.

“People have this idea that we have to get access to these distantly related animals to breed beautiful individuals and designer animals,” Barsh said. “But it turns out all the diversity was already there waiting in the domestic cat genome.”

[Read Article @ Source]

[blueiscoool]

A Mummified 44,000-Year-Old Wolf Found in Siberian Permafrost

Scientists perform necropsy on an ancient wolf pulled from Russian permafrost that may still have prey in its stomach.

In a first-of-its-kind discovery, a complete mummified wolf was pulled from the permafrost in Siberia, after being locked away for more than 44,000 years. Scientists have now completed a necropsy (an animal autopsy) on the ancient predator, which was discovered by a river in the Republic of Sakha — also known as Yakutia — in 2021.

This is the first complete adult wolf dating to the late Pleistocene (2.6 million to 11,700 years ago) ever discovered, according to a translated statement from the North-Eastern Federal University in Yakutsk, where the necropsy was performed. The discovery, scientists say, will help us better understand life in the region during the last ice age.

Photos from the necropsy show the wolf's mummified body in exquisite detail. Animals are preserved in permafrost through a type of mummification involving cold and dry conditions. Soft tissues are dehydrated, allowing the body to be preserved in a frozen time capsule.

Researchers took samples of the wolf's internal organs and gastrointestinal tract to detect ancient viruses and microbiota, and to understand its diet when it died.

"His stomach has been preserved in an isolated form, there are no contaminants, so the task is not trivial," Albert Protopopov, head of the department for the study of mammoth fauna of the Academy of Sciences of Yakutia, said in the statement. "We hope to obtain a snapshot of the biota of the ancient Pleistocene."

He added the wolf, which tooth analysis revealed was male, would've been an "active and large predator," so they will be able to find out what it was eating, along with the diet of its victims, which "also ended up in his stomach."

Another key aspect of the necropsy is looking at the ancient viruses the wolf may have harbored. "We see that in the finds of fossil animals, living bacteria can survive for thousands of years, which are a kind of witnesses of those ancient times," Artemy Goncharov, who studies ancient viruses at the North-Western State Medical University in Russia, and is part of the team analyzing the wolf, said in the statement.

He said the research project will aid their understanding of ancient microbial communities and the role of harmful bacteria during this period. "It is possible that microorganisms will be discovered that can be used in medicine and biotechnology as promising producers of biologically active substances," he added.

The wolf necropsy is part of an ongoing project to study the wildlife that lived in the region during the Pleistocene. Other species examined include ancient hares, horses and a bear from the Holocene. The team plans to study the wolf's genome to understand how it relates to other ancient wolves from the region, and how it compares to its living relatives. The team now plans to start studying another ancient wolf discovered in the Nizhnekolymsk region of northeast Siberia in 2023.

By Hannah Osborne.

[keferon]

Why’d monster hunter brainstorm timetravel to the specific era the story takes place?

Will the others ever see his alt mode?

The reason is the same as in canon - he wanted to save Quark.

Okay, I'll try and keep this short and sweet.

Brainstorm lives in the far future and is happy with Quark, until one day it turns out that Quark has a fatal spark disease that will kill him if nothing is done about it. They of course go to the hospital, but it turns out that only certain types of the disease are treatable and modern science still can't do anything about it.

Long story short, no one knows how to cure Quark's spark.

Brainstorm, as a true scientist and a good conjunx, naturally begins to research the subject himself and stumbles upon some strange information. All the sources, studies and records on the study of this disease go back a long fucking way. All that modern scientists have been doing for the last million years is just improving and refining the method of treatment, which was invented in absolute antiquity.

Brainstorm investigates further.

He discovers, all the original research records belonged to a mech named Perseptor, who amongst many other things was studying sparks. And it's when Brainstorm manages to get his hands on copies of these very original records that he finally realises why no one has been able to take this research any further. The records are very well structured, detailed and accurate, but half of the information is taken out of nowhere. The Perseptor specifies the types of sparks that certain substances affect in certain ways, but nowhere does he mention where he got this information from. He might, for example, write that certain types of sparks tend to develop internal micro-cracks when exposed to certain factors for long periods of time. And Brainstorm, having read that, can only stare blankly into space, because yes, micro-cracks in sparks is something that exists. But even in his time, there's no equipment that can detect them if they're INSIDE. So how the hell did an ancient mech with his primitive tools figure all this out???

His curiosity isn't satisfied. The research just cuts off in the middle, as if the mech that did it just abandoned it or died suddenly.

Brainstorm, like many scientists before him, tries to start his own research based on the information pointed out by Perseptor, but finds himself at the same dead end as all the medicine of his time. He just doesn't have the same mysterious way of collecting data that this...Perseptor had.

And Quark isn't getting any better

Eventually, Brainstorm comes up with a brilliant idea. What if, instead of trying to find a cure, he just (ha! Just.) went back in time and saved the dude who was definitely going to invent the cure but didn't have time? He decides it's genius and creates a time machine.

He goes back in time to find Perseptor and well, he gets a surprise. Turns out the dude who researched spark disease was a spark eater. And also on the verge of starvation, but Brainstorm finds a way to help him, it's all good:) It turns out that all this time, Perseptor didn't have any mysterious equipment to analyse the sparks, he was the equipment himself. In fact, he didn't specify the sources of his findings for the research, because the phrase ‘I figured it out because it tasted different’ sounds incredibly compromising and would have signed Percy's death warrant if his notes had fallen into the wrong hands.

Next, I'm not sure how it would have developed. I think as the story progresses, Perseptor and Brainstorm work together to invent a cure for Quark. And then, if you like to cry, Brainstorm goes back to the future and cures him, and Perseptor stays in the past.

If you want adventure, Brainstorm could take Percy back to the future with him. Quark would be really fucking scared and confused at first, but they'd figure it out quickly and conjunx Percy into their futuristic fluffy pairing. (Also, I have a lot of fun thinking about Brainstorm and Quark showing Percy the advances of future science, and the future world in general.

Also, I think Brainstorm would do a good job of hiding his alt mode while he was in the past, but a couple of times would use it to escape from someone. One time he'd also give Percy a ride, and I know Percy would be incredibly freaked out by the breakneck speed that jets can achieve ahahaha

——

That…wasn’t as short as I wanted…..my inner fic writer took control

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved on our archive

By Jamie Ducharme

When you reach for a COVID-19 test, it’s probably because you’ve got a scratchy throat, runny nose, or cough. But those are far from the only symptoms that make Dr. Rohit Jain, an internal medicine doctor at PennState Health, suspect the virus.

These days, when someone complains of nausea, diarrhea, or vomiting, “I always get a COVID test on that patient,” Jain says.

Why? Despite its reputation as a respiratory virus, SARS-CoV-2 can also have a profound impact on the gut. Although most people don’t realize it, “COVID-19 really is a GI-tract disease” as well as a respiratory illness, says Dr. Mark Rupp, chief of infectious diseases at the University of Nebraska Medical Center.

Here’s what to know about the gastrointestinal symptoms of COVID-19.

What are the GI symptoms of COVID-19? While some people experience no gastrointestinal symptoms or mild ones, a subset of COVID-19 patients have experienced significant digestive symptoms since the early days of the pandemic.

Loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and stomach pain are common GI symptoms of COVID-19, according to Jain’s research. Some people experience these issues as their first signs of infection, he says, while others initially experience cold-like symptoms and develop gastrointestinal issues as their illness progresses.

It’s not entirely clear why the same virus can affect people so differently, but it’s good to be aware that SARS-CoV-2 can result in a wide range of symptoms, Rupp says.

How long do GI symptoms of COVID-19 last? Some patients recover in a matter of days, Jain says, while others may suffer from diarrhea and other symptoms for weeks.

Still others may be sick for even longer. Gastrointestinal problems are a common manifestation of Long COVID, the name for chronic symptoms that follow a case of COVID-19 and can last indefinitely.

One recent study in Clinical Gastroenterology and Hepatology found that, among a small group of adults who were hospitalized when they had acute COVID-19, more than 40% who originally experienced GI problems such as stomach pain, nausea, vomiting, or diarrhea still had at least one a year or more later. Overall, whether they were hospitalized or not, adults who have had COVID-19 are about 36% more likely than uninfected people to develop gastrointestinal disorders including ulcers, pancreatitis, IBS, and acid reflux, according to a 2023 study published in Nature Communications.

GI problems are also common among kids with Long COVID. Stomach pain, nausea, and vomiting are telltale signs of the condition among children younger than 12, according to 2024 research published in JAMA.

Why a respiratory virus affects the gut How can the same virus cause both a runny nose and the runs?

Once SARS-CoV-2 gets into your body, it infects cells by binding to a protein called ACE2, which is found throughout the body. ACE2 is prevalent in the lungs, which helps explain COVID-19’s respiratory symptoms—but it’s also found in high concentrations in the gastrointestinal tract, “so it makes sense that the GI tract would be a target for the virus,” Rupp says. It’s in part because SARS-CoV-2 collects in the gut that wastewater surveillance is a useful tool for tracking the virus’ spread, Rupp adds.

Studies have shown that the virus can hide out in the “nooks and crannies” of the digestive system for months or even years, says Ziyad Al-Aly, a clinical epidemiologist at the Washington University School of Medicine in St. Louis who co-authored the Nature Communications study on chronic post-COVID GI symptoms. This may explain why gut-related symptoms can long outlast an acute infection, Al-Aly says—but there are many potential hypotheses in play, and researchers don’t know for sure which one or ones are correct.

For example, many researchers also think the virus is capable of causing widespread and sometimes long-lasting inflammation, potentially affecting organs throughout the body. This inflammatory response may have trickle-down effects on the gut microbiome, the colony of bacteria and other microbes that live in the GI tract, Rupp says. “We’re just scratching the surface as to what happens there,” Rupp says, but studies have already shown that SARS-CoV-2 can change the composition of the gut microbiome both during an acute infection and chronically.

There’s also a complex relationship between the gut and the brain, adds Dr. Badih Joseph Elmunzer, a gastroenterologist at the Medical University of South Carolina and co-author of the Clinical Gastroenterology and Hepatology study on prolonged post-COVID GI symptoms. His research suggests people are particularly likely to suffer long-term GI problems if they also have signs of PTSD from their acute illness or hospitalization.

That’s not to say GI symptoms are all in patients’ heads; on the contrary, Elmunzer says, they are very real. But, he says, there’s a lot left to learn about the microbiome, the gut, and the myriad ways they interact with other bodily systems.

[snivyartjpeg]

Yuma Month Day 26 - Role Swap

god i was excited for this one. it first started off as a joke, but the more i thought about it, the more interesting this swap became. so here's my massive lore dump of changes that'd happen in the story beneath the cut (spoiler warning):

i think, fundamentally, yuma and yakou are very similar characters. they're both very protective and kindhearted, with a strong sense of justice and a penchant for attracting terrible luck. because of this, some things would remain the same, such as the NDA's dynamics with their doormat chief as well amnesia!yakou's massive unpaid intern energy. i think yakou would be pretty similar to how he behaved in the light novel- a bit more optimistic and naive, like yuma. but there are two key differences between them that'd make this a different story, especially in ch 4: yuma has a forte, and yakou is very selfish. so here's some changes:

yakou's wife is his shinigami now, as you can see, while shinigami is yuma's dead wife. i think mrs furio would act cooler than shinigami. she'd still be playful, but she takes her job more seriously. also she hands yakou the solution keys normally without throwing up. they still have to do the dance and mouth sword thing tho. and the other stuff. that's just death god protocol

shinigami (or in this case the unnamed Mrs. Kokohead but i will still be calling her shinigami for convenience sake) was a scientist at amaterasu who studied forensics and thanatology instead of regenerative medicine. this also means that the pill she gives zombie yuma is not going to bring him back, but instead grant the zombie homunculi a peaceful, painless, but permanent death

speaking of zombie yuma, he's the homunculus now! yakou is 100% human and also doesnt have a forte. he's still number one, but instead of having a forte he's just that good at solving mysteries

yes this means makoto looks like yakou now. sorry makotoheads. i think he'd have really long, shaggy hair dyed to be like. idk. black or something. also he's more clean shaven bc stubble with a mask on is a sensory nightmare

yuma still cant cook. he subsists entirely on takeout, meat buns, black coffee, and beer. he's still in a lot of debt and under a lot of stress and his personality is essentially "what if canon number one just gave up"

he doesn't smoke though. he tried once and got into the worst coughing fit

imma say it right now. kurumi is not a love interest. yakou likely disguises himself as a faculty member instead (also i think one of the teachers gets a crush on fem yakou bc i just know she'd be hot)

ANYWAY what about chapter 4? im SO glad you asked! because here's where things get spicy!

so, lets start with the dead wife. shinigami catches onto huesca's inhumane research and she's just as adamant about bringing the truth to light as she always is. she blows the whistle, so he blows her up. yuma investigates, but they dont let him look any further, yada yada, yuma stews in his misery for five years

yomi sends in the evidence to motivate yuma to kill huesca, and makoto lets it happen because a dead huesca would be convenient. he even introduces the hitman, fully expecting yuma to make use of him

yuma doesnt. in fact, he wants to kill huesca with his own hands. and now that these detectives are here, he can do it and even return alive. the thing is, he doesn't want to put them in danger, so he chooses to do almost everything alone (sound familiar?)

his plan is simple:

ask desuhiko for a peacekeeper uniform. desuhiko trusts him enough to take "i want to investigate kanai ward's ultimate secret by infiltrating their ranks" as an answer. he does, however, let yakou know about this as an offhand comment before the mystery ever begins

hold fubuki's hand. it doesnt really matter how. she'll gladly allow it because she's fubuki. he stores her time powers and heads out the sub. yakou also learns this as an offhand comment played off as a joke (maybe fubuki affectionately comments about how she never expected the chief's hands to be so soft... idk. there has to be some way for yakou to have this as a future clue)

use his peacekeeper status to sneak into amaterasu HQ and demand a functioning ama-pal from that one creepy researcher

use ama-pal + fubuki's borrowed powers to bypass huesca's security. sneak the bot past the hard-of-hearing doctor and press the button to shut off security

this would probably alert huesca, but since the doctor never received a warning, yuma has enough time to rush in and stab him before he realizes what's going on

leave HQ while still in uniform, dispose of the disguise once he's safe, and return to the NDA like nothing happened. success!

soooo.... yakou, on that same day, decides to investigate amaterasu HQ with makoto

all the while, vivia has his suspicions about yuma's actions and keeps an eye on him in spectral mode. he... basically witnessed the whole thing, so he gets up off his ass and decides to follow yakou to the lab because he has a Very Bad Feeling about this

just like canon, he senses the death god and deduces that our protag has been killing off murderers, and so he wants to protect his chief as well as his peace and quiet (his dynamic with yuma would be the same as his dynamic with yakou, since it's entirely believable for yuma to treat vivia with the same kindness yakou did)

yakou tries to speak to huesca, but surprise! security is disabled and he's dead in the lab! no one else at amaterasu liked huesca enough to check on him, so yakou and makoto are the first ones at the scene of the crime. yakou, of course, decides to start investigating this murder

vivia somehow sneaks into the lab (dont ask me how) and confronts yakou, threatening him with his boxcutter and adamantly imploring him to stop pursuing this particular mystery in the same way he did yuma in canon. unfortunately, this attracts attention, and now they're in trouble (maybe even yomi's there to fetch his files). at this point, yakou has enough solution keys, so he panics and goes right into the labyrinth (and maybe others can enter for another reason that isnt coalescence idk)

so... they go in the labyrinth... vivia tries to stop him every step of the way, until the answer is right in front of them

yakou kills yuma with his own hands. there's no stab wounds or toxic gas to leave any doubt. yakou begins to question what good his justice really does. it doesnt even save them from their predicament, just like the other deaths. instead, makoto ex machina comes in to save them, and hands yakou a small black box

when they return to the agency, everyone is heartbroken over their chief, who seemingly died out of nowhere. fubuki tried rewinding time, but to no avail. halara tried everything to wake him up, knowing it's futile. desuhiko stood aside, feeling completely helpless. and yakou and vivia return looking like they just came back from hell

they barely get the chance for a funeral before the knockout gas trap activates... you know the rest

AAAAND SCENE! so that's my extremely long winded lore dump about this au. i thought about it Way Too Much but god it's so interesting to me. i love these characters and swapping them was immensely fun

[mistydeyes]

the boys during medical residency

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: we've seen the boys on the field but how would they deal on the other side of battle: in the medical field?

pairing: none!

warnings: swearing, medical descriptions

a/n: just a lil something something as i'm working on a few requests, wips, and preparing for my hospital rotation on monday!

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

price

specialty: general surgery

the long hours or sudden calls don’t get to him bc this man never sleeps

"Price, sorry it's late but-" "I'll be right in"

no one knows how he does it but rumor has it he can be ready and over at the hospital in 20 minutes tops

maybe he's just the king of multitasking

a great educator for his fellow medical professionals and patients

he can make a procedure sound like a walk in the park with his soft smile and reassuring words

in fact, the new intern mistook him for a senior doctor when they first met him

that boosted his ego and made the early mornings even more worth it

once he's in the operating room, he is fully focused and locked in

regardless of the surgeon's choice of music for that day, price is ready to go and immediately steps in when its time

speaking of which, his stitches are textbook, perfectly aligned, high tensile strength, and with no tissue reaction

always has everything prepared for handoff to the night resident

this man is READY to leave once he sees his co-resident enter the ward

he gives the most essential run down (he's just tired, not sloppy) and he gets the hell out of there

soap

specialty: pediatrics

most people think pediatrics are straight forward but actually you need to have some creativity

that’s where soap comes in

a child needs to take a respiratory test but is having trouble? think of it like you’re blowing birthday candles

a child doesn’t understand why they need to have their operation? time to pull out dolls and teddy bears to show how the doctors are gonna make them better

he always shows up no matter how early or late with a smile on his face

easily the kids’ favorite resident (he’s the first person most ask to sign their cast)

hates pre-rounds, he wants to get right in and see the patient's and families for the day

despite this, the other senior and junior residents (even the interns) have to remind him that it is essential to have a plan

when he's finally let loose is able to round, he has a field day walking down the hall

you just know all the attendings and nurses have to keep it a secret that he's working the night shift

or else they'll have a full floor of excited kids waiting to chat when he comes in during rounds

gaz

specialty: physical medicine and rehabilitation

the absolute king of finding resources

he'll whip out a full pdf study guide on spinal cord injury treatment and leave you questioning if he made this or found it online

also has one of those pocket guides that sums up everything you learn in med school

he's always there to help out those in the same boat

has such a steady hand when it comes to injections for spascicity

always has a terrible joke when he sees someone is receiving botulinum toxin

"You're basically receiving a less cool botox treatment"

despite his corny jokes, the residents, especially the geriatric ones, love him

has a friendly demeanor when collecting a patient's history, they simply feel like its a conversation and they'll tell him everything

he loves when people report sport accidents but still say they'll go back to it when they're better

he appreciates the dedication fr

also great at communicating with patient's and giving them detailed instructions to follow before their next visit

but his favorite part of the job? the diversity of the patient's he sees

PM&R is such a unique speciality that you'll see patients with a variety of injuries from all walks of life

this man truly thrives on his adaptability to educate and treat whatever patient the hospital throws to him

ghost

speciality: emergency medicine

sign-out in the morning is always the most awkward with him

as the nurse gives him a run-down of his patients, he'll just stare and occasionally nod to show he's following

"That all?" is his go-to way to end the conversation and actually begin the day's work

despite his quiet demeanor, he'll go through the motions beautifully for any emergency

easily the attending's favorite because he requires no further instruction and keeps a level head given the hectic nature of the room

since he's the attending's favorite, he's the intern's nightmare with his constant stares and the overwhelming presence he gives

"Am I doing something wrong, Simon?" the intern asks as she preps a central line and he just shakes his head, "Personally not how I would do it but go ahead."

this motherfucker

despite this, everyone admits no one deserves the title of "chief resident" more than him

he's not necessarily the best in the "educating others" department but he's sure to give a good explanation if needed

just know he's not happy about it

but if you survive the infamous ghost of the emergency department, you're on the path to success

[trans-axolotl]

this is a shortened works cited from my thesis, pulling out the sources about American intersex history and activism from the past 30 years. i have pdfs for most of the sources there, if there's something that isn't linked send me a message and i can try to find it!

just thought i'd try to put a lot of intersex history sources in one place.

Works Cited: 

Amato, Viola. “The Intersex Movement of the 1990s: Speaking Out Against Medical and Narrative Violence.” In Intersex Narratives: Shifts in the Representation of Intersex Lives in North American Literature and Popular Culture, 55–102. Transcript Verlag, 2016. http://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctv1xxrsz.6.

Bauer, Markus, Daniela Truffer and Daniela Crocetti. “Intersex Human Rights.” The International Journal of Human Rights. 24, no.6. (2020):724-749.https://doi.org/10.1080/13642987.2019.1671354 

Brown, Lydia X.Z., Erickson, Loree, da Silva Gorman, Rachel, Lewis, Talila A., McLeod, Lateef, and Mingus, Mia.  “Radical Disability Politics.” In Routledge Handbook of Radical Politics, edited by A.J. Withers and Liat Ben-Moshe, 178-193. Routledge, 2019. 

Cameron, David. “Hermaphrodites With Attitude.” Newsletter. 1994. https://isna.org/library/hwa/ 

Carpenter, Morgan. “Fixing bodies and shaping narratives: Epistemic injustice and the responses of medicine and bioethics to intersex human rights demands.” Clinical Ethics. 2024;19, no. 1. (2024) :3-17. doi:10.1177/14777509231180412

Chase, Cheryl. “Hermaphrodites with Attitude: Mapping the Emergence of Intersex Political Activism.” Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies. 4, no.2, (1998): 189-211. 

---, Hermaphrodites Speak! 1997; Rohnert Park: Intersex Society of North America. Video tape. 

Cohen, Julie, dir. Every Body. 2023; United States: Focus Features, DVD.

Denny, Dallas.  "Chrysalis Quarterly, Vol. 2 No. 5 (Fall, 1997 / Winter, 1998)."  Periodical.  1998.  Digital Transgender Archive,  https://www.digitaltransgenderarchive.net/files/7s75dc39s  (accessed April 08, 2024).

Davis, Georgiann. “Introduction: Normalizing Intersex: The Transformative Power of Stories.”  in Voices: Personal Stories from the Pages of Narrative Inquiry in Bioethics: Normalizing Intersex, edited by James DuBois and Ana Iltis. 1-4. John Hopkins University Press, 2016. 

Dreger, Alice. “Rejecting the Tranquilizing Drug of Gradualism in Intersex Care.” Alice Dreger (blog). November 2015. Accessed April 9, 2024. https://alicedreger.com/dsd_human_rights/ 

Dreger, Alice and April Herndon. “Progress and Politics in the Intersex Rights Movement: Feminist Theory in Action.” Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies. 15, no. 2. (2009): 199-224.

Fausto-Sterling, Ane. Sexing the Body: Gender Politics and the Construction of Sexuality. New York: Basic Books. 2000. 

“A Framework for Intersex Justice.” Intersex Justice Project. 2021. Accessed April 8, 2024. https://www.intersexjusticeproject.org/intersex-justice-framework.html 

"FTM Newsletter #37."  Periodical.  1997.  Digital Transgender Archive,  https://www.digitaltransgenderarchive.net/files/kd17cs89j  (accessed April 08, 2024).

Hegarty, Peter, Marta Prandelli, Trove Lundberg, Lih-Mei Liao, Sarah Creighton, and Katrina Roen.”Drawing the Line Between Essential and Nonessential Interventions on Intersex Characteristics With European Health Care Professionals.” Review of General Psychology. 25, no 1. (2020): 101-114. 

Hermaphrodites With Attitude.  "Hey AAP! Get Your Scalpels Off Our Bodies! Flyer."  Ephemera.  1990.  Digital Transgender Archive,  https://www.digitaltransgenderarchive.net/files/qj72p712h  (accessed April 08, 2024). 

“Hermaphrodites With Attitude,” Intersex Society of North America. 2006. Accessed April 8, 2024. https://isna.org/library/hwa/ 

“How To: Organize an #EndIntersexSurgery Protest in your hometown--a toolkit created by Intersex Justice Project (IJP.” Intersex Justice Project. 2019. Accessed April 8, 2024. https://webarchive.loc.gov/all/20191111232744/https://docs.google.com/document/d/1EgYy2jfSO04HF_FGv-8RXYEgWW422L-RB7oxMOaIiBc/edit 

Hughes, Ieuan, Christopher Houk, Syed Faisal Ahmed, Peter Lee, and LWPES1/ESPE2 Consensus Group. “Consensus Statement on Management of intersex disorders.” Disease in Childhood. 91, no.7. (2006): 554-563. doi: 10.1136/adc.2006.098319

“I Want to Be Like Nature Made Me: Medically Unnecessary Surgeries on Intersex Children in the US.” Human Rights Watch. InterACT. July 2017, accessed April 8, 2024. https://www.hrw.org/sites/default/files/report_pdf/lgbtintersex0717_web_0.pdf 

“InterACT Statement on Intersex Terminology.” InterACT: Advocates for Intersex Youth. 2015. Accessed April 8, 2024. https://interactadvocates.org/interact-statement-on-intersex-terminology/#:~:text=interACT's%20use%20of%20terminology%20and,of%20the%20term%20%E2%80%9Cintersex%E2%80%9D. 

Lindhal, Hans. “Is PCOS an Intersex Condition? Here’s 5 Reasons Why Some Say Yes.” HansLindhal.Com (Blog). February 2023, Accessed April 7, 2024. https://hanslindahl.com/blog/is-pcos-an-intersex-condition 

---., “9 Young People on How They Found Out They Are Intersex.” Teen Vogue. October 2019. Accessed April 10, 2024. https://www.teenvogue.com/gallery/young-people-on-how-they-found-out-they-are-intersex 

“M.C v. Aaronson.” Southern Poverty Law Center. 2017. Accessed April 8, 2024. https://www.splcenter.org/seeking-justice/case-docket/mc-v-aaronson

Merrick, Ten. “From ‘Intersex’ to ‘DSD’: A Case of Epistemic Injustice.” Synthese 196, no. 11 (2019): 4429–47. http://www.jstor.org/stable/45220035.

Orr, Celeste. Cripping Intersex. University of British Columbia Press, 2022. 

Pagonis, Pidgeon. “#EndIntersexSurgery Protest At Lurie Children’s Hospital Recap + 5 Ways To Get Involved.” Intersex Justice Project. 2018. Accessed April 8, 2024. https://www.intersexjusticeproject.org/blog/endintersexsurgery-protest-at-lurie-childrens-hospital-recap 

Pagonis, Pidgeon and Sean Saifa Wall. “Open Letter to AIS-DSD Support Group.” EndIntersexSurgery. Intersex Justice Project. February 2018. Accessed April 8, 2024.  http://www.endintersexsurgery.org/ 

Redick, Alison. “What Happened at Hopkins: The Creation of the Intersex Management Protocols.  Cardozo Journal of  Law & Gender. 12 (2005): 289-296 

Reid, Graeme, and Minky Worden. “Caster Semenya Won Her Case, But Not the Right to Compete.” Human Rights Watch. July 2023. Accessed April 10, 2024. https://www.hrw.org/news/2023/07/18/caster-semenya-won-her-case-not-right-compete  

Reis, Elizabeth. Bodies in Doubt: An American History of Intersex. John Hopkins Press, 2021.

---, “Did Bioethics Matter? A HIstory of Autonomy, Consent, and Intersex Genital Surgery. Medical Law review. 27, no.4, (2019):658-674. https://doi.org/10.1093/medlaw/fwz007 

Rios-Espinosa, Carlos, Koomah, Syrus Marcus Ware, and Sean Saifa Wall. “Liberating All Bodies: Disability Justice & Intersex Justice In Conversation.” Webinar at the Crip Camp Impact Team and Human Rights Watch Film Festival, United States, October 2020.  

Rubin, David, Michelle Wolff and Amanda Lock Swarr. “Creating Intersex Justice: Interview with Sean Saifa Wall and Pidgeon Pagonis of the Intersex Justice Project.”  Transgender Studies Quarterly. 9, no. 2. (2022): 187-195. https://doi.org/10.1215/23289252-9612823 

Sharman, Zena. “Intersex Justice and the Care We Deserve: ‘I Want People to Feel at Home in Their Bodies Again.’” Ms. Magazine. 2022. Accessed April 8, 2024. https://msmagazine.com/2022/02/03/intersex-justice-the-care-we-dream-of-queer-trans-healthcare/  

Sharpe, Sam. “No one-size-fits all: Myths and Misconceptions about PCOS.” InterACT: Advocates for Intersex Youth. Advocates for Informed Choice. October 2022. Accessed on April 7, 2024. https://interactadvocates.org/no-one-size-fits-all-myths-and-misconceptions-about-pcos/ 

Spurgas, Alyson. “(Un)Queering Identity: The Biosocial Production of Intersex/DSD.” in Critical Intersex edited by Morgan Holmes. 97-122. Ashgate Publishing, 2009. 

Tamar-Matis, Anne. “ Advocates for Informed Choice, Newsletter Fall 2007.” Newsletter. 2007. AIC Legal .https://aiclegal.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/fall-07-newsletter-final.pdf

---. “Advocates for Informed Choice: Newsletter Spring 2008.” Newsletter. 2008. AIC Legal.https://aiclegal.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/spring-08-final.pdf

---. “Advocates for Informed Choice: Newsletter Summer 2009.” Newsletter. 2009. AIC Legal.https://aiclegal.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/aic-2009-summer-newsletter-pdf.pdf

---. “Advocates for Informed Choice: Spring 2010 Newsletter.” Newsletter. 2010. AIC Legal.https://us1.campaign-archive.com/?u=f8291560ebb2dafc25097480f&id=5803ec8c71

---., “June 2011: Promoting the Civil Rights of Children Born With Variations of Sex Anatomy.” Newsletter. 2011. AIC Legal. https://us1.campaign-archive.com/?u=f8291560ebb2dafc25097480f&id=cec68ddac 

---.. “June 2012: Promoting the Civil Rights of Children Born With Variations of Sex Anatomy.” Newsletter. 2012. AIC Legal. https://us1.campaign-archive.com/?u=f8291560ebb2dafc25097480f&id=b4d4dd90cf

---. “ 2012 Annual Report.” Newsletter. 2012. Advocates for Informed Choice. https://interactadvocates.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/AIC-2012-Annual-Report.pdf 

---. “2013 Annual Report. “ Newsletter. 2012. Advocates for Informed Choice. https://interactadvocates.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/2013-annual-report-FIN1.pdf  

“US: Anti-Trans Bills Also Harm Intersex Children.” Human Rights Watch. October 22. Accessed April 10, 2024. https://www.hrw.org/news/2022/10/26/us-anti-trans-bills-also-harm-intersex-children 

Vecchietti, Valentino. “A Journey to the Intersex-Inclusive Pride Flag.” Global Inclusive Pride Flag. Intersex Equality Rights. 2021. Accessed April 7, 2024. https://www.globalinclusiveprideflag.com/ 

Wilchins, Riki Anne.  "In Your Face No. 5 (Spring 1998)."  Newsletter.  1998.  Digital Transgender Archive,  https://www.digitaltransgenderarchive.net/files/vq27zn45k  (accessed April 08, 2024).

Withers, AJ. Disability Politics and Theory. Fernwood Publishing, 2012. 

Woo, Elaine. “David Reimer, 38; After Botched Surgery, He was Raised as a Girl in Gender Experiment.: Los Angeles Times. May 2004. Accessed April 8, 2024. https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2004-may-13-me-reimer13-story.html 

[johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend]

shower situation (smut) part 1

Part 1 --- Part 2 --- Part 3

word count: 0.8k - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - fluff, eventual smut

"It's a girl",

you hear someone faintly say. there's a cold sensation on your body, metal. a million questions flood your brain. where are you? who was that? your head ached, causing a small wince to come out of your mouth. it doesn't matter though, since your eyelids feel like they're glued together. someone jumps down into whatever metal crate you were in, and picks you up effortlessly. you feel eyes on you, but then start to lose consciousness again.

you wake up in a bed, there are bottles of what looks like medicine surrounding you. there are a couple of boys around. while your eyes adjust to the darkness of the hut, you hear a voice. "Are you alright?" a boy with a british accent says. "Who are you guys? Where am I?" you say. a man speaks up, "You're in the glade. None of us remember how we got here, but you'll get your name back in a day or two." you look at them with lost eyes, realising you don't know your name. what you also realise is there were no other girls in the glade. both of those cause you to have a slight internal panic. "Now, Newt here," he points to the boy, "Will show you around and answer any questions you may have." you nod, standing up from the bed and heading towards the exit. there was another guy looking at you, a boy with dirty blonde hair and green eyes. you pause for a minute, just staring into his eyes, almost looking into his soul. his cheeks turn to a faint pink color. "What are you looking at greenie?" he mutters. you blink out of your haze, turning towards the door again, and walking away.

time skip to night time babs😫

"Any other questions?" newt asks. suddenly, a name floats into your brain. it obviously couldn't have been anyone but yours. "Y/N." he looks at you with a confused stare. "My name- it's Y/N." he smiles, giving you a friendly pat on the back. "Glad to have you in the glade, Y/N." you smile back at him and the two of you walk together towards the kitchen. he could sense that you were hungry, and it was late aswell. you grab a plate of of food and sit with newt and the others. minho, thomas, and chuck introduce themselves to you. they start to talk about whatever and, for the most part, you just listen to them.

after dinner, your little group huddles up. "Alright shebean, so for sleeping arrangements, Alby has decided that you would be best with Gally. We also know that you do need to shower. Basically he would stand guard while you do and help you around other parts of the glade." gally, that name was new. "Sorry, who's Gally?" you ask,  a little embarrased by the amount of questions you've had today. "Him." newt points to the guy that you had seen earlier in the day. when you turn around, he's caught looking in your direction from his group. "Oh, the one from the medjacks." you studied him. he was cute, most likely your age, and you figured he was strong since newt told you he was a builder. the thought of him having to watch outside while you were in the shower, not to mention you had to sleep with him too. how was that gonna work out? newt calls him over, making him jog. apparently he had already been informed of having to 'guard' you, he didn't mind though. gally knew that there were boys who would try to take advantage of the only girl in the glade. it was even darker outside than before, and you just wanted to sleep.

"Are you ready greenbean?" gally said. you give a little mhm and then say goodbye to newt, the new boy leading you. "Did you figure out your name yet?" he asked. you respond, "Yeah, my names Y/N." you cheekily smile, giving him a playful handshake. he holds onto your hand for a little longer than intended, before letting go. he scratches the back of his neck. your cheeks feel warmer when you walk next to gally. feeling tired, you say the first thing that comes to your mind to get rid of the awkward-ish air. "I'm glad to finally sleep with you." he turns red. "I- didn't mean it like- I meant like you know...Okay I'm just happy to rest after today." you stuttered. in the moment of explaining yourself, you trip over a rock. luckily this time, someone's here to catch you as he grabs your waist with both of his hands. he laughs, removing his hands, "I know what you meant, Y/N." "I wouldn't mind either one." he muttered the last part to himself, thinking you didn't hear. you laugh with him, making a note to thank your good hearing, and your cheeks go pink. well this was gonna be fun...

remember this is all on my wattpad <3 (link in bio)

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ povlnfour masterlist

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMAUS

.jpg (just propose goddamnit)

lando’s childhood sweetheart has long since been the subject of his photography account. fans just can’t wait to see one specific post from the couple in the future

how do you turn this thing off?

fans love when you make appearances in landos streams. it’s usually because he doesn’t know where something is, and the internet goes crazy over their favorite certified himbo. on one stream, you get a taste of your own medicine when lando tasks you with turning the live feed off, and fans get a little more of an insight into your relationship

crash landing

lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.

tales of candor

lando’s girlfriend has a secret identity. she’s not quite the girl next door everyone assumed, and he might just be the inspiration for more than just her instagram captions.

everybody talks

lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels

paddock to paddock (complete)

in which two athletes in different disciplines find a common ground

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ONE SHOTS

overdrive

a practical stranger is determined to change your opinion on cars (and maybe make you fall in love in the process)

end up here

a night out, a long walk home, and a pretty stranger happy to accompany you

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMAUS

secret love song

an anonymous account starts posting photos found on a private account supposedly belonging to f1 superstar charles leclerc. as the photos start circulating, an unknown face joins the picture that leads to speculation charles has a girlfriend he’s been hiding.

content creation

when ferrari hire a new content creator to help their social media presence, fans start noticing a certain friendship developing between her and their star driver.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ONE SHOTS

coming soon…

ੈ✩‧₊˚ SMAUS

beached!

after oscar saves you from an embarrassing accident on the beach, you accidentally go viral

study break

oscar piastri is a formula 1 driver. y/n is an international relations student. her friends find her relationship pretty hard to believe. especially when she can’t tell them any details for you know… nda reasons.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ OTHER DRIVERS

i currently have no fics posted for other drivers, however i will also be writing for: alex albon, lewis hamilton and sebastian vettel

[existennialmemes]

What if we housed people, instead of hoarding homes for profit? What if we fed people, instead destroying food that couldn't be sold for profit?

What if the purpose of education was to help each child find their strengths and understand how to navigate their limitations? What if anyone who wanted to pursue a field of study, was given all the resources to do so effectively?

What if the purpose of automation was to spare human labor? What if finding a career was about finding something that satisfies your internal drive that also enriches society?

What if art and medicine and parenting were all seen as equally valuable pursuits. What if nothing was seen as a "lesser" career?

What if the measure of success was about how happy and cared for the people and our ecosystem are? What if all your needs were met?

What if we actually lived in a society?

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Sometimes Silence Is The Best Medicine

Jiyan x reader

Notes: I really needed some comfort from my husband, so I'm throwing this out there for others.

Reader based of of oc (but given name inserts), gn reader, they/them used, afab anatomy possibly mentioned.

Also small warning about some graphic imagery and also not proofread lol

_

It's ringing, your head is ringing. It's not some stark white noise, it doesn't even sound like anything. It's like there's an absence of noise, yet it's every noise as well. You can't block it out either, it heightens when you hear anything. It just won't stop. You wanted to scream. Why won't it stop-

"Are you alright [Y/n]?" A sudden voice calls out, startling you out of your internal screaming. Gentle hands grasp onto your hands, now realizing they're gripping onto your hair tightly, coaxing them to release the [h/c] locks. The person doesn't let go, instead they keep a firm grip on your skin in comfort. "Breathe."

"I am." You reply, acknowledging the slow breathes you were taking. The realization that tears were running down struck you, feeling the droplets land onto your joined hands. Taking a moment to recollect yourself, you lift your head a bit to look at the person before you. Though you didn't see their face, instead you immediately recognized them by the clothes. "I'm fine, Jiyan."

"Forgive me, but I don't believe you." He says, giving you hands a gentle squeeze. It's easy for him to notice how you aren't meeting his eyes or how tense your posture was. "What happened?"

"Nothing did." You sighed, turning your head away to look on at the main city of Jinzhou. The gentle breeze picked up your clothing a bit, letting it flow like petals. "Just...my own head being my biggest enemy."

"I see." He pauses, unsure how to respond. "Would it be better to talk about it?"

"Not really?" You shrug your shoulders, ignoring the almost itching sensation the fabric that clung to your form gave. "It's hard to explain."

"Try it. Explain to me."

"It's...It's like everything is too much." You begin to say, focusing on the warmth his hands gave. "Every sound is deafening, almost every touch is itchy, and no matter where I look my eyes burn because it's too bright. It makes me want to scream out loud until my voice is gone and scratch my skin off."

"That's..."

"I know, it's intense." You chuckle as you can practically see his expression from the way his voice sounded. "But it happens, it's just something I have to get over until the next time."

"Does having someone with you help?"

"Sometimes? Other times no." You squeeze his hands, desiring more warmth to seep into your palms. "Though luckily this is one of those times."

"I'm glad." He smiles, reciprocating your grasp. You hear a small shuffle before you feel his shoulder bump into your, causing you to tense a bit. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

He releases one hand, using the now free limb to bring your head onto him. "Is this okay?"

"...kind of." You mutter, feeling your cheeks turning a bit red at the contact. A small thought crossed your mind, but you weren't too sure if you wanted to go through with it.

"I remember you saying compressions usually helped with those who experience similar things. Would that also work for you?" He asks softly, studying your body language to make sure he wasn't overstepping.

"I'm not sure."

"Are you willing to try?"

"...yes."

Without another word he guides you to sit in front of him, the grass brushing against your skin irritatingly. You grunt in annoyance, before he pushes you against him and wraps his arms around you. You stiffen in his hold, hearing him whisper into your ear to relax and breathe. You do so and as the breeze tickled your cheeks, you began to smell the clear waters that were nearby.

"Would you be alright with talking more? Or is being silent better?" He asked gently, keeping a comfortable firm grip on your form.

"I wanna enjoy the view of the city a bit." You whisper, the desire to scream slowly leaving you. You barely could even register the fact that the sounds of the world around were quietening.

So you both sat there, taking in the shared warmth as they watched the sun begin the set down past the city.