#suggested conscious surgery

[otter-chaos-violence]

Here some whump. its been drifting in my google docs for a while, but here

its part of a larger series but won't be on tumblr

---

I lay on my back, reading the book Doctor Harland had just given me. I liked it thus far.

He kneeled next to me, petting my stomach while he hooked me up to some kind of machine. I dropped the book, remembering the page number, and I found myself unable to move.

“It’ll be over in a minute,” he whispered. I didn’t respond as my brain went foggy and I closed my eyes.

He bashed me in the side of the face, and my eyes flew open. 

I stared at him, and he said, “Begin test number G-1-7-8-8,”

My muscles tensed and I went numb as something inserted itself in both sides of my neck and my muscles spasmed and I thrashed abou-

—

I came to with my muscles stiff.

“Test failed,” Doctor Harland remarked. “We need to deal with the epilepsy,”

He fastened an oxygen mask over my face and put an IV in my skin.

“We’ll feed you tonight, ‘kay? Just sleep off th-,”

Darkness.

—

I opened my eyes in my bed, and Doctor Harland entered a few minutes later.

“Sit up,” he ordered. I obeyed, and he handed me my book again.

“I’ll get you a treat for sitting quietly and letting us test our new device on you,”

I didn’t respond, immersed in the book’s world. It was about a girl who discovered she was the daughter of King Oberon from ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’. Doctor Harland said he would get me the rest of the series after giving me a modern translation of the play so I could better understand it.

He held out something that smelled sweet and I took it, then ate it, my tail wagging happily.

He pet my head and I purred.

“One-two-seven-three, any strange feelings?” He asked.

“No,” I chirped. 

“Good. Good. Nausea? Tiredness? Breathing normally?”

He checked my heart rate and breathing for any abnormalities.

“Normal. Okay. Darling little test subject, we’re going to try and treat the illness that made this test fail. We’re going to cure it,”

“What illness?” I asked.

“You- have a reaction to certain things, and it causes you to stop existing for a minute, meaning we can’t do certain tests. We try to treat it and you don’t respond to medications, so we need to cut it out,”

I felt something cold on my wrist and whimpered, “No, not again, don’t look at my brain- please!”

“What? No. The procedure requires you to be awake or you’ll die, we’ve already tested it, and it’s painful. We’d give you painkillers, but that’s unsafe until after,”

I shuddered and hissed when he brought his hand to my tail. I tried to bite him as he tied it under the bed and shackled my other three wrists and my ankles to the bed.

“Please! NO!”

“It’ll all be over soon,”

He called for Doctor Fletcher and Doctor Amatris. Doctor Amatris held my chest down and Doctor Fletcher attached electrodes to my skull, and I felt like I exploded a few minutes later. I shrieked and thrashed around, when I heard something snap.

“Oh shit!” Doctor Amatris shouted.

I felt the pain dull a bit, and Doctor Harland whispered, “Its over, you’re going to have morphine tablets now,”

“Okay,” I mumbled before changing form to my more human self and laying back, my forehead caked with sweat. They undid the shackles, and Doctor Amatris took my hand in hers and the trio set my leg in a splint. 

I cried out and whimpered, “Hurts,” when Doctor Fletcher shoved a capsule into my mouth and held my lips shut until I swallowed, then gave me water.

I rolled to my side and shivered, still in deep pain. I started crying and Doctor Harland sat me up and started hand feeding me between each sob. It was cold, barely seasoned chicken, like always.

When I was done, I dove under the bed, where it was calmest, no one trying to talk to me, even though it was dark.

“One-two-seven-three, don’t be like that,” Doctor Fletcher said. “Do you want to undo all the progress in training out that habit?”

I hissed at him and swatted at his ankles, then curled into a ball and continued crying into my fur.

Doctor Amatris kneeled in front of me and held out her hand. I didn’t take it. She very gently petted the fluff on my neck, and I continued sobbing, though it made me feel a bit better.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “The pain’s over now,”

She very slowly pulled me out, as though acclimating a fish from one tank to another. At one point I had a couple fish and a snail, and in a rage, Doctor Harland smashed the tank, killing all three of them. I cried for weeks after that, as at that point, I’d been taking care of them for four years.

“There, how do you feel?”

“Hurts,” I croaked, my voice raw. It felt like the color red to speak.

She lifted me and set me back on the bed, tucked me in like a mother would her child, and kissed me on where my forehead would be, and when she left, Doctor Harland inserted an IV into my skin. She wasn’t allowed to see it, for some reason, I wasn’t even sure if she knew.

I closed my eyes and let sleep take me.

—

What was supposed to be a dreamless sleep became a nightmare, one where I was playing with a child, and we were about the same height. It was all flashing lights and pain and fear when someone grabbed me, and-

I woke up, screaming for someone whose name I didn’t remember. The IV had broken.

I took off my oxygen mask and sobbed in the dark. Normally Doctor Harland stayed to make sure I felt safe at night, it was too dark for me. I wished I had control of my lights, but past lights-out, they couldn’t be turned on unless Doctor Harland or someone else swiped a keycard.

I heard rapid footsteps, and a woman in a dark blue uniform with a thick black stick and a big spiky club opened the door, then said into a strange black box, “False alarm. One of them woke up, over,”

A garbled voice came from the box, “How?”

“Its IV looks broken,”

“Which one?”

She stepped back and looked at the sign that said my room number with a beam of light that came from a black stick. 

I ran over and took the lightstick after a bit of back and forth, then clicked the button on and off as she said, “It just took my flashlight,”

I called, “Room 5-6-6 B!” and went back to playing with the ‘flashlight’, then grabbed my book and started reading with the concentrated beam of light.

The woman repeated the room number I gave her and said, “I’m gonna need back-up to get it back into bed, its strong,”

I got under my bed and continued reading, until someone else in a dark blue uniform grabbed me and bashed me with a spike on their club. I dropped the ‘flashlight’ and-

-

I came to with my upper wrists shackled to my bed’s headboard and my entire body numb.

��Okay, so, two hundred million watts can cause seizures. Duly noted,” the one who’d hit me with the spike muttered.

“Seizure? Watt?” I parroted, trying to get feeling back in my tongue. “Why’d you do that?”

“Holy shit it talks,” the woman said. 

“Yes I talk, why wouldn’t I talk? Also, I’m not an it, I’m- I’m a girl,”

“Someone get one of the night shift doctors,” the woman ordered. Another person left the room.

“It’s dark!” I complained.

The woman groaned and said, “Deal with it, how old are you, seven, eight?”

“Thirteen, fourteen in four months and two days,”

“How are you that old? Why haven’t you committed suicide yet?” the man asked.

“Suicide?” I’d parroted. I knew what it met at a base level, but in books they always said it in association with a stupid battle plan. 

“You know, killing yo-”

“I know what it means, I just thought it only went with wars?”

“What?”

“In books,” I chirped. I motioned to one that said it, then said the page number.

“Oh-kaaay, you can read,”

“Isn’t that normal? Well except illiteracy rates in fantasy places, but isn’t it normal now?”

The man who’d left returned with Doctor Amatris.

“One-two-seven-three, what’s wrong?” she asked.

“I had a nightmare,” I replied.

“Come here,”

“I can’t,”

She took a key from one of the security guards and unlocked my manacles, then lifted me into her arms, though it was much more awkward than when I was little, considering I was about as big as her now.

I laid my chin on her shoulder, and she carried me away, off to another room, this one with more light.

“We oughta get you a nightlight,”

“Nightlight?” I parroted. “What’s that?”

“Its a little light that plugs into a wall and makes the room brighter,”

She unhooked a little square that glowed blue until it exited the wall, “Normally they come in fun shapes, but until I go shopping tomorrow, we can use this one. I’ll get a bunch of them and let you pick them out, okay?”

“Okay,” I chirped.

She carried me back to my room and lay me on my bed, and I grabbed her arm and whimpered, “Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone,”

“I have to go back to work,”

“I’m scared,” I whimpered. 

She turned back around and fastened my oxygen mask on my mouth and nose.

“You’ll be fine. And if you wake up again, I’ll come back and keep you company ‘til you fall asleep again. Now close your eyes, goodnight, don’t let the bed bugs bite,”

“What’s a bed bug?”

“You don’t want to know,”

She shuddered and tucked me in, then kneeled next to me and rubbed my forehead to calm me. But sleep would be a long time coming. I didn’t fall asleep until all the lights turned back on.

[strobbylemonade]

filling cavities

[bejeweledblondie]

Post-Baby Bath

Captain John Price x F! Reader

Summary: John decides to help his beloved wife out by pampering her while their newborn is settled down for nap time

A/N: incase you can’t tell my baby fever is at a all time high this week

Warnings: mentions of childbirth, surgery, sexual innuendos

Delivering a baby is no easy feat, hell pregnancy alone is no easy feat. You had just delivered your baby boy not even a week ago. While he wasn’t a very fussy baby, taking care of a infant while healing wasn’t easy especially while healing. You had deliver your son your own while John was on FaceTime. The delivery nurse had to console you so you didn’t raise your blood pressure. It was your worst nightmare. So here you sat at home, alone holding your infant son as he nursed on your chest. He was all John, he had his eyes, nose, & thick head of brown hair. You ran a finger across his pink chubby cheeks as his big eyes stared at you.

The sound of the door lightly opening & closing along with the shuffling of combat boots.

“Darling?” John’s thick accent filled the air. He was home, a sigh of relief washed over you. You were no longer alone in taking care of your newborn.

“I’m in here love,” You replied rocking your son. John walked in to the bedroom & removed his combat boots. A small smile started to appear on your face. With your free hand you reached out for him & cupped his right cheek. He sat down on the edge of the bed & looked down at your newborn son.

“Oh darling,” John said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He took a long look at you, the guilt of not being there weighed on his conscious as he took in your appearance. Small bags were under your eyes from exhaustion, your hair was all tangled, & your skin was pale. Then he looked down again at the bundled in your arms. “He’s beautiful. I’m so proud of you.”

“You wanna hold him he’s just about done.” You said as the newborn started to become fussy. He unlatched from your breast & you handed him over to John’s open arms. John’s large frame made the already small baby boy look microscopic. You put your breast away & just admired the scene in front of her. Your son was looking up as his father with amazement. His face wiggled around with different expressions & his chubby little hands reached out for his beard. Tears welled in John’s eyes at the site of his newborn son.

“I am sorry for missing the birth, baby.” John said he as he looked at you, guilt in his eyes. “You must be so tired.”

“I’m not gonna lie I am.” You sighed. “I haven’t showered in two days. I feel so gross.” Your son had fallen asleep in John’s arms by now. “Oh thank God he’ll be asleep for hours.”

“Why don’t I put him down in his bassinet then draw you a nice warm bath.” John suggested. You smiled at him.

“Baby that sounds absolutely wonderful.” You sighed at the thought. John played your baby in the bassinet & then walked into the bathroom. You could hear the water starting to fill up the tub from your place on the bed. John came out of the bathroom & picked you up out of bed. The past few days you moved with the pace of a snail. You were still healing down there & any sudden movement was painful. Your head rested against his chest as he gently carried you into the bathroom. He put you down gently on the bath mat next to the tub. You went to go & remove your shirt you hissed in pain. Breastfeeding is no joke, your whole chest was achy.

John kneeled in front of you & helped remove your shirt. Then he went to remove your sweat pants. Out of embarrassment you didn’t want John to see you with the giant pad in your hospital underwear. Or the fact your stomach wasn’t all the way down.

“Love.” John said softly. “Don’t hide from me.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You just had a baby, & regardless I love you.” He was always so tender with you. “You’re also in pain love, let me help you.”

“Okay.” You softly said. He helped remove your sweatpants. “Let me take these off.” You said as he turned around to give you privacy. You removed the hospital underwear & tapped John to let him know you were ready to be put in the tub. He turned out & smiled at you just taking you all in. He felt so honored that you trusted him with seeing you in such a vulnerable state.

“God, you are so beautiful.” He said & lifted you up. Slowly he put you in the warm water. The shock of the water hitting your aching body made a sigh escape your lips. You hadn’t realize how badly you needed this, & how much your body ached. John smiled at you in the tub. He stripped off his uniform & climbed in with you. Your back was rested up again his chest. Lord knew he needed a bath himself from the latest mission.

He wrapped his big burly arms around you pulling you closer to him.

“You want me wash your hair lovely?” He asked. You nodded, & he immediately grabbed your shampoo. As soon as his fingers touched your scalp you could’ve fallen asleep right there. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head & you sighed. You could feel the stress from the day melting away the more he massaged the vanilla scent into your hair. He rinsed the shampoo out & put in your conditioner. John always knew your hair routine & he knew your sweet spots. After he rinsed the conditioner out you rested your head on his shoulder.

The two of you just basked in your own glow. John thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever lied eyes on. Your post baby body to him was the most beautiful thing. It represented your strength & ability to give him one of the most beautiful things he had ever lied eyes on. Besides you of course. He had never known how deep his love could go until he laid eyes on you holding your son. Once the two of you finished your bath, you both jumped into your pajamas & checked in your son. While cuddling watching a movie you heard your son fussing in the bassinet.

You picked him up, & John immediately held out his arms to hold your son.

“Let me take care of it love.” He said. “I need to get to know our son, & you need to catch up on sleep.” You passed the infant off of to John & watched his little body lay on his father’s chest. John started to rub small circles on his newborn son’s back & a small smile appeared on the baby’s face. A little bit of drool started to pool on his t-shirt. Your eyelids started to become heavy as you watched John with your son. A peaceful much slumber consumed you, as you basked in the love of your husband & now newborn baby.

[katnissmellarkkk]

an unpopular take : i don’t think peeta’s prosthetic leg detaches. my interpretation is it was surgically put on and so therefore the only way it can be removed is through surgery.

this comes from the fact that he slept next to katniss all those nights and she never mentions him desiring to remove his leg or aching became he didn’t remove it. some argue this point because he was probably too bashful or self-conscious to take it off in front of her at that stage of their relationship. which is why i’m saying katniss doesn’t give the reader the impression he’s uncomfortable because he didn’t remove it. if he was meant to take it off and let the remains of his real leg rest, katniss probably would have casually dropped a hint somewhere about that.

the second reason which kind of piggybacks onto the first. the quarter quell. katniss never mentions peeta desiring to remove his prosthetic and rest. she never implies his leg is in pain from overuse of the prosthetic while in the arena. she doesn’t suggest he is even uncomfortable wearing his prosthetic 24/7 for days on end in the arena. again, i’ve heard people say in the past “he couldn’t have taken it off in the arena because…” i’m not saying him not removing it while in the games is the clue that his leg is not detachable. i’m saying the fact that we got no implications that it was even a desire on his part to remove the prosthetic is the clue. he didn’t run slower or seemed to have any issues with his prosthetic that was imply overuse or anything like that.

and my last reason is the most convincing to me. peeta was rescued in mockingjay with his prosthetic still on. if snow’s men wanted to torture him, removing his prosthetic would be a basic starting step. they would have wanted to keep him weak so they could abuse him and hijack him. if his leg came off, it would have been a pretty easy decision to take it away so he’d been helpless. and yes, i suppose they could have given it back right before the rescue because we know snow was letting them take peeta, in hopes he’d kill katniss for him. but again, if peeta was hospitalized and all that in thirteen for a while, to heal physically as well as mentally, at some point shouldn’t the doctors there have taken his prosthetic off? let the stump take a break? and if this was happening all along, if throughout the series peeta was detaching his prosthetic regularly, how is it that katniss somehow missed every single time it happened.

also peeta eventually joins the star squad and katniss once again doesn’t make any sort of note towards peeta about how he must want to remove the prosthetic, rest his leg, how his leg must hurt from the overuse. not even during the “i’m so tired, katniss” moment.

so anyways. that’s my interpretation.

[farfromsugafanfic]

Stray kids reaction to seeing surgery scars on their s/o

Anon 🐻‍❄️

SKZ Reaction To Seeing Surgery Scars On Their S/O

Genre: fluff, suggestions of smut

Warnings: mentions of surgery, body insecurity, cancer, mention of disease and injuries

A/N: My first anon 🥹 thank you so much and I hope you enjoy it. Also, thank you for 1,000 followers 🥺

Chan:

Chan knew about your appendectomy scar and how it was one of your complexes, but you'd always managed to keep it hidden from him. He tried to express that it was perfectly normal to have surgical scars and that it wouldn't change how he felt about you, but it still took you time to show it to him.

Pulling up your shirt, you winced as the keloid scar became visible. Chan stayed quiet before gently running the softest part of his fingertips over the rough scar.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Sometimes," you said. "But not too much anymore."

He nodded in understanding and reached down to intertwine your fingers.

Minho:

Minho understood why you were scared for him to see your scoliosis surgery scar because he too had a surgery scar that he felt self-conscious of. While he'd sometimes caught a small glimpse of it, you always tried to keep it hidden. Eventually, though, it became impossible to deny the intimacy growing between the two of you.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he said, trying to lighten the mood with some light sarcasm. It seemed to work since you laughed and some of the tension in your body. When you finally threw your shirt aside, his breath hitched at the long vertical scar down your spine. It lined up with the curves of your body linearly, making your body look like two butterfly wings sprouting from the scar.

"Fuck, you're so gorgeous."

Changbin:

Changbin knew you had a tumor removed from your kidney as a kid, but it never crossed his mind that you might have a scar. While you sometimes even forget about it, there are times you get reminded. Someone looks a little too hard at your abdomen when wearing a crop top, or someone was bold enough to ask what happened.

You'd long put your childhood brush with cancer behind you, but when Changbin first noticed your scar, your body filled with dread. Would it be the last straw and he would finally find you completely unattractive and dump you?

However, Changbin didn't say a word and just placed his palm over it. He'd continue to do this, sometimes without even thinking about it, just reminding you that he loved every part of you, even the parts you sometimes wanted to hide.

Hyunjin:

Hyunjin noticed that you always wore long sleeves. At first, he didn't think much about it, until there was an especially hot day when you refused to take off your long-sleeved shirt. When he questioned it, he saw the panicked look in your eyes and knew something was wrong.

After a bit of soft prodding, you eventually explained that you'd broken your arm as a kid and had had surgery, leaving you with a scar. Hyunjin was silent for a few moments.

"Is that all? You thought I would mind that?"

"Well, I mean, you're so gorgeous."

"I still have scars, babe." He chuckled and reached for your sleeve, gently pulling it up and rubbing the pad of his thumb over the scar. He didn't say anything else, but gently leaned down and kissed the scar.

Jisung:

When Jisung first met you, it was at a large event where you'd had your makeup professionally done. But, the next time he saw you, it was a late night at the convenience store where the scar from a skin graft surgery you'd had after getting a burn on one side of your face. Compared to what it could look like, it was relatively minor, but the scar was visible and you'd only just got used to doing small errands like this without covering it up.

Jisung can't lie and say it didn't catch him off guard, but it only made him more interested in you. He bought you a pudding and chatted with you, deciding not to mention anything unless you did. This surprised you because most people couldn't help but ask for the sob story of the car accident that resulted in major burns to your face.

Eventually, you did tell Jisung what happened though it took time and getting over some insecurities. But, Jisung's openness about his insecurities and your insistence that they didn't matter to him helped you come to realize how enamored he actually was with you.

Felix:

You and Felix were both very open about your insecurities and who you are. However, you could never get yourself to show your biopsy scar. The scar was small, but noticeable. So, you kept it covered. As you and Felix became more intimate, you knew he would eventually see your scar.

Felix was a sweetheart. You knew he wouldn’t care and that such a small flaw would not affect how he felt about you. Yet, still, there was a nagging worry. When Felix does see the scar and notice the way your body tenses when his eyes graze over it, he takes your hand and kisses the back of it gently.

“It looks beautiful on you,” he said, as if he were looking at you trying on a dress and not gazing at your scar. His hand brought yours to his cheek.

Seungmin:

On the outside, it wasn't obvious that you had lupus, but Seungmin had begun to notice that you never drank—not even beer or wine. He didn't mind but found it a bit curious since it was not something he was used to with people around his age. Still, he didn't ask questions. That was until he was staying the night at your apartment and caught a glimpse of the hockey stick shaped scar on the right side of your abdomen from having a kidney transplant.

His eyes widened as he began to put it all together. He didn't flip out but did ask if you were okay. After you explained, he felt better but also felt bad that you felt like you needed to hide such a major part of yourself from him. From then on, he would sometimes find himself absentmindedly running his fingers over the scar when you lie together.

Jeongin:

Jeongin knew you'd had knee surgery a few years ago after tearing your meniscus. But, he'd never seen the scar. Of course, he was never actively looking for it but realized that you never showed your knees at all. When asked about it, he could tell it was a touchy subject, but a few sweet words and reassuring touches calmed you.

Rolling up your pant leg, you showed him the scar. It was larger than most other similar scars because your injury had been extensive. The scar—at least in Jeongin's eyes—wasn't too visible, but he made sure to give you a cute peck on the nose and encourage you to wear what you wanted since surgery scars were nothing to be ashamed of.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

Archived Link

Some highlights:

Her preventative chemotherapy treatment continues over the summer - and possibly even beyond - while her recovery will be ongoing for many months to come once even this is concluded, I understand. She will continue to work privately, and engage publicly as and when she can. Kensington Palace hope to provide guidance at some point in the future about what a return to ‘a more regular workload’ might look like. But it is important to stress that they are absolutely ‘not at that stage yet’, according to one royal insider.

and

What most will not appreciate is that Catherine had actually been unwell for some time in the run up to her initial abdominal surgery in January (further details of which have not been made public yet by Kensington Palace). It was only after that ‘planned’ operation, of course, which left her in hospital for two weeks, that her cancer was discovered. As always she hid her suffering well, but those who know her are keen to emphasise just what a tough time it has been.

and

This means that far from hitting the ground running in the autumn, as some might have hoped after her glowing appearance at the weekend, it will continue to be a ‘slow build’ for the princess, taking on things as and when she feels physically - and, no doubt, mentally - strong enough. She is likely to continue to attend keynote national events, such as Remembrance Sunday.

and

However, I am told things are finally ‘moving in the right direction‘ and the couple and their young family have enjoyed a ‘fabulous’ summer so far in Norfolk, living at Anmer Hall, their home and sanctuary on the monarch’s Sandringham estate. Spending time outdoors - cycling, sailing, and hanging out with family and friends - has put colour back in all their cheeks. ‘They made a clear and conscious decision to take time out as a family this summer. Seeing them both looking so happy and relaxed with each other and so comfortable in each other’s company tells you a lot about where they are,’ one insider remarks, suggesting that old adage ‘what doesn’t break you, makes you stronger’ is as true for the royals as it is for the rest of us.

and

It is hoped the family will be able to travel to Scotland to stay with the King at Balmoral as usual at the end of this month. Traditionally the Waleses spent time around the Bank Holiday weekend on the royal estate. William will return to work as soon as Prince George, Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis return to school early next month. While he will continue to prioritise his wife and family, it is anticipated the future king will now start to take on a fairly full programme of royal duties again.

and lastly,

And when the Princess is ready to return to a more public life, she will. For now, however, Catherine continues to take her recovery one day at a time. While she happily appears to be getting better, the princess, more than anyone, knows that for the time being it’s still important for her to walk, not run.

[abigail-pent]

Thoughts on HTN Act Five on ??th reread:

- the joke about the Ninth knowing a thousand shades of off-white is absolutely a 50 Shades of Grey reference

- Ianthe wonders what Harrow's face "could have done to it" - ohhhhh yeah she is doing hella cosmetic "surgery" on Corona. this still isn't explicitly canon as far as I'm aware, but that line makes it pretty damn close

- Harrow Nonagesimus breaks into the Tomb and Harrow Nova breaks into the Anastasian. Baby girl is the same in every universe

- Harrow Nova is "the unfulfilled vow" and "the bloody teeth of the unkissed skull" AND THEN ALECTO KISSES HARROW NONAGESIMUS IN FULFILLMENT OF THE VOW AND SHE BLEEDS. I've connected these things, I've connected them

- ok if Harrow is pulling everyone who's dead into her River bubble, then doesn't that mean that in the BARI Star AU she is actually interacting with the actual spirit of Gideon Nav?

- I don't know if we talk enough about how Harrow actually becomes a full Lyctor after she's stabbed and remembers Gideon. It feels kind of weird that her body only gets Lyctoral healing once her soul is gone from it. The construct in her skull is still there, it stays there until Gideon talks to Mercy and hears her name.

I mean, the weirdest thing about it is it implies that John and Gideon the First were right that they could fix Harrow by killing her. And given that the sort of cav Gideon becomes is explicitly and canonically analogous to the sort of cav Pyrrha is - still conscious and able to pilot the body in the absence of the necromancer's soul - that makes me wonder if maybe this happened to Gideon the First too. Like maybe that's why he's described as such a zombie, and maybe that's why John seems to know that killing Harrow would "fix" her, and Gideon agrees.

- Abigail talks about the place over the River the way John talks about the place beyond the stoma - it's an undiscovered country he knows nothing of, where his power is meaningless.

- Mercy says if Gideon Nav were Alecto, she would have "gone for me already" - so yeah, Alecto wasn't just incredibly weird and creepy, she was directing violence at Mercymorn. Pyrrha later says Alecto wasn't so bad (but that absolutely doesn't preclude Alecto being super violent to Lyctors, Pyrrha would respect the shit out of that), and of course it seems like she and Anastasia loved each other. But: John says that anger was Alecto's sin; The Unwanted Guest implies that that anger may have been John's, but in a different body; and it seems like this anger got expressed at Mercymorn and probably other Lyctors too. When Gideon meets Augustine she says he looks at her eyes in Harrow's face like they were the last thing he'd ever see; which suggests she took her anger out on Augustine too. But why was she angry at them? Was it because they ascended?

- "I gave you one damn job, and instead you rolled a rock over me and turned your back!" Harrow IS the Ninth House for real... (this is exactly the problem Silas has with the Ninth)

- in GTN, in the Cytherea fight, when Gideon looks back at Harrow right after she says "Then we're all dead, Nav, but let's bring hell first" 🤝 in HTN, in the Sleeper fight, when Ortus looks back at Harrow who has just followed his lead to recite the Noniad ... the way both of her cavaliers are a little surprised, but very impressed and comforted, by her loyalty to them and trust in them ... I am very fine and normal about this

- when Abigail summons Nonius: blazing like a flare from an alien blue sun! appearing to hold a book made of blue radiation in her hands! soaking wet! everything smells like water and brine and blood! she screams as though there are a multitude of voices in hers! time seems to slow way down! her eyes become dark and liquid and feral! this is both extremely fucking cool and probably meaningful. the smell and wetness are for the River, the many-voiced quality recalls Alecto and her many voices, the time slowing recalls John's ability to stop time, the eyes recall John's (so, Alecto's) as well. SHE IS ABIGAIL FOR HER MOTHERS AND PENT FOR HER PEOPLE AND I LOVE HER

- I love that Nonius canonically fought Gideon the First, and calls him "a rival and ally". I'm not much of a fic reader myself (heresy, I know) but I absolutely want to read a fic about "we met long ago, and I fought him."

- "Genuinely sad, bordering on very funny" legitimately could have been the tagline for this book

- Augustine says that if it's really Wake, then Gideon has proved "yet again" that he's unfit for any job besides making simple gruels and stews. Yet again??

- it's probably Augustine that Mercy tried to kill tbh

- I think Wake recognizes Pyrrha in Gideon's face when no one else does. That's why she looks at her like that.

- the way Gideon Nav has always yearned for her parents vs the way her bio-parents treat her... oof ohh oww... Pyrrha Dve is the only parent I will diplomatically recognize for Gideon Nav

- Alecto's eyes end up in John's genetic code - Lyctorhood doesn't only meld souls, it melds bodies as well.

- John says Mercy and Augustine killed Alecto because he told them the truth about her; and Augustine says he told them that because Alecto also knew the truth. But ... which truth was it? When we hear from Alecto, she seems to have a fuzzy memory.

Also, worth mentioning that this is a different account than what Teacher offers. Teacher says that the Lyctors asked John to kill Alecto after they ascended and "found out the price." If this account is correct - and why wouldn't it be, it comes from Augustine, who was a key player - then the "price" wasn't the death of the eight cavs, the "price" was something to do with the truth about Alecto. And whatever this truth is, it isn't that Alecto was John's cavalier, because Mercy and Augustine are only finding out about this now. I suspect the "price" is the price of creating necromancy - murdering the 10 billion - and then when Mercy and Augustine know that Alecto is the Resurrection Beast of Earth they ask John to kill her. So I was wrong, and he must have basically told them "lol we've been hanging out with an RB this whole time."

- when John reconstitutes himself, the light he emanates leaches all the color from the room and turns everyone into shades of gray. LIKE WHEN SILAS SIPHONS COLUM. It makes sense that he's taking thalergy from somewhere to build himself back up, but where exactly is it coming from? Alecto?

[vodika-vibes]

Omggg I was melting from flirtatious Seventeen, I love him being a shameless flirt 😫 Could you please do one where reader is very self conscious and just doesn’t see what 17 sees so she thinks he’s just messing with her when he says suggestive things? Maybe reader has an obvious crush on him so she assumes that because 17 knows he just flirts with her to embarrass her or try to get with her. Sorry if this is really long and specific😅, we all love everything you do btw! Thanks!

For Them

Summary: Alpha-17 has been driving you insane for ages now, and that mixed with the stress of your current responsibility is just too much.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x Reader

Word Count: 1358

Warnings: Kaminoans are assholes who experiment on babies

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So...I kind of went a little off the rails on this one. I had a plan, and then I started writing, and I got distracted by clone babies. Sorry.

Sometimes you hate the fact that you’re so easy to read. If you were just a little better at hiding your emotions, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Well, you hope you wouldn’t be in this situation.

After all, if your crush on Alpha wasn’t so obvious, he wouldn’t have any reason to tease you so much, right?

Because there’s absolutely no way that he means what he says when he flirts with you, or makes those suggestive comments to you.

Best case scenario he’s just trying to get into your bed for a bit of quick fun. Worst case scenario, he’s trying to humiliate you. And if you didn’t need this job so badly, you would have transferred out to somewhere else.

Tragically, this job is the best one for you at the moment, and you can’t just leave the cadets-

You purse your lips as you focus your attention back on your datapad and the information on the screen. You need to focus, you can’t afford to be distracted by Alpha right now. The Kaminoans decided to play with the genetic makeup of some of the tubies, and it’s a whole thing.

Three of them are albino, which comes with its own host of health issues that need to be mitigated. Two were born totally blind, and another three are going to be blind unless you figure out a way to keep their immune system from attacking their eyes (honestly cybernetics for all five of them will probably be the easiest option, after all no one’s figured out how to keep human’s immune systems from attacking their eyes), and one was born without the ability to use his legs.

Honestly, the urge to take all 9 of them and flee Kamino is getting stronger with every passing day, but as of right now, there’s no way for you to get them off Kamino without drawing the ire of several very dangerous men, Alpha at the top of the list.

You push your fingers through your hair as you scan the medical data coming from CT-238-765’s (his name is Grim and you’re pretty sure you love him) cradle and you scowl. He’s never going to be able to walk. Maybe with surgery-

“If you keep scrunching your face up like that, you’re going to get wrinkles,” A deep voice says from the door, and you yelp and your datapad tumbles out of your hands.

You whip around, your eyes wide, and then you press your hand over your heart, “Don’t do that!”

Alpha-17 grins at you, “Did I spook you, mesh’la?”

You scowl at him and duck down to scoop the tablet back into your hands, turning the screen away from the larger man so he can’t see just how bad these tubies are, “Did you need something?”

He drags his gaze down your body, and you fold the datapad over your chest as you fight the urge to shift uncomfortably. His grin broadens, “Yeah, I can think of a thing or two that only you can help me with.”

Your face burns, “There are babies in the room,” You hiss at him.

“They’re too young to understand what I’m saying, sweetheart,” Alpha replies as he enters the room properly, and peers into one of the cradles, “Honestly, I could probably bend you over in here and none of them would even know it.”

You sputter, “You…you don’t know-that’s totally inappropriate-”

He laughs, and moves to peer into Grim’s cradle, and you immediately move to put yourself between Alpha and the infant, without thinking about it. “You’re not allowed to handle him. Technically, you’re not allowed to handle any of the babies. Remember?”

Alpha rolls his eyes and lightly nudges you to the side, “The rule was only enforced when the Prime was alive, which he’s not.” You move to the side as he nudges you, curse you for being so weak in his presence.

“Only because everyone else is afraid of you,”

“You’re not.” He grins at you, “You want to fuck me.”

Your face burns, and you glare up at him, “There. Are. Children. Present.” You hiss at him.

“Yeah, yeah. So you’ve said.” He regards Grim silently for a moment, “Also, that wasn’t a denial, gorgeous. Why isn’t he moving his legs?”

“He’s fine. And I’m not going to sleep with you just so you win whatever twisted game you're playing with me,” You snap, though you keep your voice quiet, “And don’t touch-” You sigh when Alpha reaches into the cradle and pokes the infant’s foot, and he doesn’t react.

“The fact that you think I’m  playing a game with you is hurtful, gorgeous.” Alpha replies, a frown crossing his scarred face as he looks down at the infant, “He can’t feel his legs.”

“He’s fine.” You say, your voice pitching a little higher in sudden panic, “They’re all fine. You can’t tell the longnecks. You can’t. They’ll decommission them.”

“Wait, wait. Hold on,” Alpha looks at you, suddenly no longer interested in teasing you based on the look on his face, “What…there’s something wrong with all of these tubies?”

“Winter, Snow, and Cin-” You motion to the three at the end, “Are all albino. The five in the middle are either blind, or are going blind, and then Grim here-”

Alpha holds up his hand, “What happened?”

“The Kaminoans were playing with their genes.” You say bitterly, “And now these kids are the ones who will suffer for it.” You carefully remove the monitors from Grim’s legs, and attach them to a different baby's legs, altering the data just enough.

Alpha stops you, “How long has this been happening?”

You shrug, “You know that CF-99 exists,” You point out, “They’re not the most popular because they’re assholes, but-”

“We’re all genetically predisposed to be assholes,” Alpha says dryly. His gaze lingers on the babies for a moment, “So, what’s the plan?”

“What?”

“For the tubies.”

You stare at him, “Um…so for the five that are blind, or going blind, I’m planning on making arrangements for them to get cybernetic eyes. As for Grim…I’m working on it-”

Alpha hums thoughtfully, “I have a better idea.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. How do you feel about taking the Tubies and leaving?”

You sputter, “I can’t raise 9 babies on my own without a job-”

“You won’t be raising them alone,” Alpha replies with a roll of his eyes, “I’ll be going with you.”

“...what.”

He looms over you, and you’re very glad that you’ve never been intimidated by Alpha, for all that he flusters you to high heaven. “You think I’m playing with you. That I don’t mean every word that I say to you. Maybe you have cause for that, I’m not going to judge. But I do mean every word, and if I have to run away with you and these kids to make you believe me, then so be it.”

“But…what about your other brothers?”

“They’ll be just fine without me.”

“But-”

“Yes or no, cyar’ika?” Alpha interrupts, “Do you want to ensure that these kids, kids that you named, have a proper life? Or do you want to run the risk of your manipulations getting exposed? And that’s not me threatening you. That’s me pointing out that you’re not going to be able to hide your lies forever.”

Your hands shake, “Of course I want them to grow up happy and healthy, but this is…”

Alpha stares at you and you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, thinking hard.

“Okay. Okay, but we have to be quick about it. If we get caught-”

“Don’t worry, cyar’ika. I can make sure that we don’t get caught.” He ducks down and brushes his lips against your temple, “Just be ready. We’re leaving tonight.”

And then Alpha is gone, leaving you alone with the 9 babies that you’re about to risk everything for. You sigh and turn to Grim, who looks up at you through big brown eyes, “You’re lucky I love you, kiddo.”

He flashes a toothless grin and grabs your finger, and you melt a little bit. You suppose it’s worth it.

[bangchansdirty-slut]

do you take writing requests? if so would you write something with a FTM reader who hasn't had any surgeries?

Paring: Bangchan x FTM reader

Genre: Fluff

Requested

More: Masterlist

A/n: Hey! I'm sorry for the delay, but I just wanted to ensure that this trans reader fic was the best it could be. Also, my requests are open!

Chris had been dating Y/n for a couple of months now. They were still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, and things were going surprisingly well. Chris, who was completely oblivious to Y/n's trans identity, thought he had found the man of his dreams. Little did he know that he was about to have the most unforgettable night of his life.

As the hours passed, they ate dinner and watched TV, growing increasingly comfortable in each other's company. Eventually, Chris, who was exhausted from a long day himself, decided that it would be best if Y/n stayed over, knowing that it would be late by the time Y/n got home.

Y/n was hesitant to spend the night at Chris's house. He didn't want Chris to find out about his trans status, as he was afraid of being judged or rejected. But after a long day of work, and with Chris's insistence, he finally agreed to stay over.

They continued to watch TV, cuddling on the couch. It wasn't long before Chris began to feel tired himself, and he suggested that Y/n might be more comfortable sleeping in his room. Y/n, who was already feeling quite comfortable and safe with Chris, agreed.

As they headed to the bedroom, Chris couldn't help but notice how big some of his clothes were. He offered Y/n one of his oversized hoodies and a pair of boxers, which were both easily large enough to fit Y/n's slender frame. They climbed into bed, and after a few moments of fidgeting, Chris fell asleep almost instantly.

Y/n, however, found it difficult to relax. He had been used to sleeping in his own bed, and the unfamiliar surroundings made him feel self-conscious. He shifted uncomfortably in the bed, trying to find a position that would allow him to sleep peacefully. As he lay there, he debated whether or not to take off the clothes Chris had given him and put his own binder back on.

Eventually, he decided that it was best to put it off until later. He didn't want to risk waking Chris up. Instead, he tried to focus on the warmth of Chris's body pressed against his back and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. Slowly, Y/n began to drift off to sleep.

It was during one of these moments of semi-consciousness that Y/n felt something brush against his chest. He froze, unsure of what was happening. When he finally opened his eyes, he saw Chris's hands resting on his chest, cupping his breasts. Y/n was horrified and tried to push Chris away, but his strength was sapped by sleep. He covered his chest with his arms, trying to hide his feminine features from Chris.

Chris looked confused and apologetic. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" he mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. He pulled his hands away, and Y/n could feel the heat in his cheeks as he tried to compose himself.

"It's okay," Y/n said, trying to sound more convincing than he felt. "It's just… a bit weird, that's all." He forced a small smile, hoping to reassure Chris that everything was okay.

Chris looked at Y/n for a moment, his expression a mixture of confusion and concern. "Chris," Y/n said hesitantly, "I need to tell you something. Something important."

Y/n felt a chill run down his spine. He knew what was coming. He braced himself for the worst, but he couldn't bring himself to look Chris in the eye.

"I'm trans," Y/n said softly, barely able to admit it even now. "I was born a girl, but I've always identified as a man. I'm sorry if I didn't make that clear before." He waited for Chris's reaction, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

There was a long silence. Y/n's eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, afraid to meet Chris's gaze. He could feel the weight of Chris's judgment pressing down on him. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Chris spoke.

"I… I don't understand," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Y/n winced. "I was scared," he admitted. "I didn't want you to think any differently of me. I was just trying to be myself, you know? And I thought… maybe if I could just blend in, be invisible, then you wouldn't notice. But I was wrong."

Chris was silent for a moment, as if he were trying to process the information. Y/n could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the tension in the air palpable. "You don't have to explain yourself," Chris finally said. "I mean… I might not understand everything, but I'm not going to judge you."

Y/n felt a mixture of relief and trepidation at Chris's words. He knew that Chris was trying to be understanding, but he couldn't help but feel like he'd be disappointed or disgusted. "I'm sorry if I misled you," he said, his voice still shaky. "I just wanted to be your boyfriend, and I didn't want to ruin that."

Chris shifted in the bed, pulling Y/n closer. "You could never ruin that," he said, his voice firm and reassuring. "I care about you, Y/n, and that's not going to change. I may not know everything about what it means to be trans, but I'm willing to learn. And if you ever need someone to talk to, I'm here for you."

Y/n felt a lump form in his throat. It was everything he could've hoped for. Chris's understanding and acceptance meant more to him than he could ever express. He let out a shaky breath, taking in Chris's words and the warmth of his embrace. "Thank you," he managed to whisper. "Thank you so much."

They lay there in silence for a while, wrapped up in each other's arms. Y/n couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He knew that there would still be challenges ahead, but he wasn't alone. He had Chris by his side.

As the morning light began to filter through the curtains, Y/n found the courage to turn his head and look at Chris. His eyes were still closed, but there was a softness to his features that Y/n hadn't noticed before. He studied Chris's face, taking in the familiar lines and contours that had always drawn him in. It was then that Y/n realized how much he truly loved Chris.

"I love you, Chris," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He could feel the butterflies in his stomach as he waited for Chris to respond. After a moment, Chris opened his eyes and looked at Y/n, a smile spreading across his face.

"I love you too, Y/n," he replied, his voice gentle and sincere. "You have no idea how much." And with that, they kissed. It was a tender, loving kiss that felt like the beginning of something new. Something beautiful.

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(5)

A Lesson in Planning

Robert Fischer x reader

description - the logistics of the dream begin to come together and get finalised by the group. Y/n's heart yearns for Robert more but she feels absent from those around her.

warnings - non-con touching (because she is not awake! UNCONSCIOUS PEOPLE DON'T WANT TEA!), mentions of surgery, mentions of murder.

word count - 2.2k

a/n - Boy you guys are gonna hate Arthur here! this is an important filler chapter for the plot but the real juicy stuff is still to come!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“So now in the first layer of the dream, I can impersonate Browning and suggest concepts to Fischer’s conscious mind. When we get a layer deeper his own projection of Browning should-should feed that back to him.” Eames orated to our group as we sat concepting the plan for the mission.

“So he gives himself the idea?” Arthur questioned.

“Precisely.” Eames continued. “That’s the only way it’ll stick. It has to seem self-generated.”

“Eames.” Arthur leant back in his chair and looked to me and I nodded in agreement. “I am impressed.”

Eames chuckled. “Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated, Arthur, thank you.” I laughed at Eames’ quip, but felt I should cover my face to not embarrass Arthur further.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I sat in the workspace with Ariadne as she worked on her totem.

She’d decided upon a chess piece with a partly hollowed out centre that would always fall a specific way. We’d actually had the idea together when we’d been walking in the park and had come across a group of old men who’d formed a chess club. When Ariadne had picked up the queen, it had felt right in her hand.

I glanced to my watch and commented on the lateness of the time but hadn’t noticed Ariadne had actually left our desk. I must have zoned out. That had been happening a lot recently. My mind went to Robert. It wasn’t always thinking back on our interaction, most of the time it was just imagining him beside me. Living in the moment with fantasies of him living it with me.

I perked up when Dad and Ariadne walked back towards me, Ariadne gestured for me to show my Dad the mazes but I hesitated.

“Each level relates to the part of the subjects subconscious that we are trying to access.” Dad walked past our designs, assessing the skill and intricacy. Ariadne and I loomed over her paper built mazes. “So, I’m making the bottom level a hospital so Fischer will bring his father, -- um you know, actually, I have a question about this layout.” Dad immediately retreated as if the sight burned his eyes.

“No, no, no. Don’t – Don’t show me specifics. Only the dreamer should know the layout.” I winced at Dad’s harsh tone.

“Dad, she just wanted some help.” I looked up at him.

“Just – “ He pointed at me in a fierce tone but doubted his words. His tone smoothed out. “Just no specifics.”

“Why is that important?” She questioned, amid our staring contest.

“In case one of us brings our projections in. We don’t want them knowing the details of the maze.” Dad feebly explained.

“You mean in case you bring Mom in?” I spat at him. The room went quiet, the tension was thick. “You can’t keep her out, can you? Right. If you know the maze then she knows it. That’s why you can’t build anymore.” I stalked towards him amidst my lecture.

“Cobb is this getting worse?” I appreciated Ariadne’s concern. She had been whisked in to this operation only to find out the leader’s brain was more fucked up than most. Who wants to share dreams with that. “Because the others need to know if it is?”

“Who said it’s getting worse!” He abruptly ended so we knew the conversation was done. There was a lull. “I need to get her home.” He pointed at me. “That’s all I care about right now. Is her.” He stood up and embraced me. My guilt weighed me down. He’d only ever thought of me, and my thoughts were filled with someone else. How selfish could I be.

“Why can’t you go home?” Ariadne fiercely inquired.

“Because they think I killed her.” Cobb said into my hair whilst we stayed hugging. I squeezed tighter at that answer. Ariadne stayed quiet as Cobb left my arms to walk away. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not asking whether I did.” He smiled appreciatively.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“I will split up my father’s empire.” The word emblazoned on our whiteboard. “Now, this is obviously an idea that Robert himself would choose to reject which is why we need to plant it deep in his subconscious. The subconscious is motivated by emotion, right? Not reason. We need to find a way to translate this into an emotional concept.” Dad addressed us.

“How do you translate a business strategy into an emotion?” Arthur questioned.

“That’s what were here to figure out. Now, Robert’s relationship with his father is stressed to say the least.”

“Well, can we run with that?” Eames perked up. “We could suggest breaking up his father’s company as a ‘screw you’ to the old man.”

“No.” I commented. “Positive emotion trumps negative emotion every time. We yearn for reconciliation, catharsis. His bond with his dad is broken beyond repair. Maybe if we’re gonna be in there anyway, we could do him a little good.” When I trailed off softly, I felt all eyes on me, confused. I especially felt the hot gaze of my father.

“We need Robert Fischer to have a positive emotional reaction to all this.” Dad agreed whilst eyeing me suspiciously.

“All right, let’s try this.” Eames jumped to my rescue. “My father accepts that I want to create for myself, not follow in his footsteps.”

“That might work.”

“Might?” Arthur argued. “We’re gonna need to do a little better than might.” Eames turned towards him with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, thank you for your contribution, Arthur.” He said sarcastically.

“Forgive me for wanting a little specificity, Eames.”

“Specificity?”

“Inception’s not about being specific. When we get inside his mind, we’re gonna have to work with what we find.”

Ariadne had already prepped each of the dreamers with the layout of the maze. I was truly impressed, and I spent every minute telling her that. It was so great to have a girl on the team. I often felt I was drowning in testosterone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We had entered Yusuf’s dream which would act as the first layer. Ariadne had created a metropolitan city with towering skyscrapers. It was perfect. Complex and confusing if you were not familiar yet still had a sense of believability.

“On the top level,” Eames narrated to us all, as we stood in the direct centre of the road. “We open up his relationship with his father, and say ‘I will not follow in my father’s footsteps.”

I walked around in awe of the world around me. I’d been in many dreams and had created a few for myself, but nothing like this. I bumped Ariadne’s shoulder and whispered.

“This is seriously amazing.”

“you’ve told me that like 5 times, y/n.”

“Oh sorry—”

“No, it’s nice.” She threw her arm around me so we ended in a half way hug. I suddenly remembered the boys were talking.

“Then the next level down, we feed him ‘I will create something for myself’. Then by the time we bring out the big guns – “

“My father doesn’t want me to be him.” I finished. After speaking those fateful words I chanced a glance at my own father’s eyes. But I looked away in shame, missing his own longing gaze.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Three layers down the dreams are gonna collapse.” Arthur admitted. “Even with the slightest disturbance.”

“Sedation.” Yusuf proudly stated. “For sleep stable enough to create three layers of dreaming, we’ll have to combine it with an extremely powerful sedative. The compound we’ll be using to share the dream creates a very clear connection between dreamers whilst actually accelerating brain function.”

���In other words, it gives us more time on each level.” Dad explained for the ones who struggled to understand Yusuf’s chemistry.

“Brain function in the dream will be about 20 times normal. When you enter a dream within that dream, the effect is compounded, it’s 3 dreams – that’s 10 hours times –”

“I’m sorry maths was never my strong subject.” I chuckled at Eames’ confusion. “How much time is that?”

I decided to fill him in.

“It’s a week, the first level down, 6 months the second level down –”

“Its 10 years, the third level.” Ariadne said in a gasp. I nodded sadly towards her. “Who would want to be stuck in a dream for 10 years?”

“Depends on the dream.” Ariadne and I looked unamused towards Yusuf’s attempt at humour.

“So, once we’ve made the plant how do we get out? I’m hoping you have something more elegant in mind than shooting me in the head.” Arthur commented whilst swinging on his chair.

“A kick.”

“What’s a kick?”

“This Ariadne,” Eames gently tapped Arthur’s chair so he panicked and fell forward. “Is a kick.” He smiled innocently towards Arthurs unimpressed face. I giggled watching their little bromance.

“It’s that feeling of falling you get that jolts you awake.”

“Will we even feel a kick with that level of sedation?” I questioned.

“I’ve customised the sedative to leave inner function unimpaired.” I gave a grateful nod. Yusuf was truly a gift to this mission. “Let me demonstrate.”

“Arthur.” “Arthur!” Eames and I said in sync.

Arthur reluctantly rises and sits on the chair Yusuf gestures to. Yusuf puts him into a dream.

“You see the sleeper still feels the falling.” Yusuf tips Arthur and he jolts awake just in time to watch his body hit the ground. Eames and I burst out laughing. I wink at Eames as we both get the same idea.

“But Yusuf.” I begin. “He just fell sideways. I think it needs to be demonstrated that it works falling at ALL angles.” Eames and I could barely hold in our laughter as my dad shook his head in disapproval. Arthur was put under 4 more times and shoved off the chair each time. God this was too good. After the final time, he threw his hands up when Yusuf went in for one more IV. He abruptly stood up and walked past me. He slowed down when he reached my shoulder.

“Don’t be so childish.” My smile broke.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“He hasn’t got any surgery scheduled, there’s no dental, nothing.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to have a knee operation?”

“Nothing. Nothing that they’d put him under for anyway.”

We were coming up with the final stage. And the most important element. Time.

“We need a good 10 hours.” My dad offered up the situation to the room.

“Sydney to Los Angeles.” Saito had very much taken up the role of the silent money. Quiet, observing. Merely here to protect his investment. When dad had told me he wanted to go under with us I wasn’t shocked. Inception is hardly a mission which has a physical outcome a buyer can hold. The only way to get proof is to be there with us. I did worry about safety. He was just another parasite the projections could flock to; this put us all at risk. And I had a feeling this sedation meant a simple kill shot wouldn’t suffice.

“One of the longest flights in the world. He makes it every two weeks.”

“He must be flying private then?” Dad questioned.

“Not if there were unexpected maintenance with his plane.” I smirked at this.

“It would have to be a 747.” Arthur jumped in.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because on a 747, the pilot is up top,” I didn’t miss how Arthur directed the answer towards my dad. “and the first class cabin is on the nose, so no one would walkthrough but you’d have to buy out the entire cabin and the first class flight attendant.”

“I bought the airline.” We all flocked our gaze to Saito. “It seemed neater.” Ah of course! Why didn’t we think of that?

“Well then.” We had our stage. “Ariadne?” Dad stopped us as we went to leave. “Terrific work by the way.” I smiled her way but she missed it, taken up in a conversation with Arthur.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

My fingers fidgeted on the lock of the case. Itching to try again. Nothing around me was satisfying, I needed some release. The lock flicked up and I hurriedly unpacked the IV. I inserted it and let it do it’s magic. My eyes drooped, my heart slowed yet my excitement bubbled up. My head flopped onto the rough fabric of the deck chair. As my mind floated me away, a presence loomed in my peripheral.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Arthur’s pov*

I’d stayed behind late, hoping to have a word with y/n. She hadn’t seemed herself recently and I worried for the state of her mind when we begin this task.

I made my way to the door, believing I’d missed her. I noticed one of the deck chairs hadn’t been put away so I went to tidy up. I saw five painted nails loosen their grip on the edge of the chair and collapse to the side. There was an IV exiting the vein, I tracked it back towards the silver case.

I ambled my way towards her sleeping frame. So peaceful, yet so much life danced behind her closed eyes. I found myself stroking her soft cheeks. She was so perfect. My thumb caressed the contours of her face and it began to droop lower, until it met the curve of her lips. What was I doing?

I jumped back as if her skin had burnt me. Suddenly I was possessed by a new found drive. I ripped one of the other IV’s out of the case and dragged a chair up to the table. I inserted the tube and let the sedative consume my body.

My mind crumbled down and was rebuilt into her subconscious.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Oh boyyyyy Arthur has gone into her subconscious! What's he gonna find? What's she hiding??

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away

[medig]

A Tale of Woe, Ep. 41: Helpless

(all episodes)

"What the hell is going on, one minute you guys were giving me my shot, the next thing I know I wake up like this... and I can't move. What the fuck are you sickos doing to me?"

"Misty, you may or may not recall hearing from your sister Susan about the experiment in which she she participated. What was officially being tested in that experiment was a new drug intended to safely immobilize conscious patients during outpatient surgery. With no affect on the patient's breathing, even leaving the patient able to freely communicate with the doctors during the procedure. And no numbness or loss of normal sensation, allowing the doctor to choose local anesthetics as needed. The trials were spectacularly successful, so you can thank your dear sister's contribution to medical science for what you are about to experience."

"Which is?"

"Momentarily, my colleagues and I are going to pull that thin blue sheet down, and open the back of your hospital gown, exposing your poor, helpless, little bare bottom. Then we are going to take that feather, and take turns tickling you about the buttocks, anus, perineum, labia, and clitoris, and continue this procedure until you either soil yourself, lose consciousness, or achieve orgasm. And if the outcome is orgasm, we will continue to see how many we can get out of you before one of the other two outcomes occurs."

"W-w-w-what the actual fuck? No, no, no! N-n-n-no no no.."

"As I told you before, Misty, you are just a little tickletoy now, to do with as I please.. feel my touch and tremble.."

[the nurse removes the sheet]

"Oh no no no I can't take it! Let me go let me go..."

"Misty, you can't go anywhere, your muscles don't work. You're just going to have to ride this out, there is nothing you can do to stop it."

"You son of a bitch, when I can move again I'll kick you in the balls.."

[the doctor opens back of the hospital gown..]

"Big talk for a girl with such a ticklish little tushie.."

[.. and tickles her with his fingers]

"Ahhh! No no no please.. Look you've already got me laid up here butt-side up, can't you just fuck me in the ass or something? Anything but this.."

"Your bargaining is always so amusing, my sweet little Misty Leigh. Now, we three actually have been taking bets about which area of stimulation will yield the first orgasm. Doctor [redacted] predicts the anus, our nurse here suggests the clitoris. My money's on your taint... let's begin"

[sizebrained]

It's So Hot, Can We Go To The Pool? Part 1

Ok, this is the very first thing I've ever shared in terms of G/t writing so be kind.

I hit Tumblr's max length every post, sorry not sorry. I retconned this from when I first wrote it to make Ben bigger than I originally thought. Muwahaha. Also Hazel's haircolor.

It's meant to be an intro that takes place in the middle when everyone's dynamics were already established.

Content Warning: Adult themes, somewhat suggestive romantic/sexual interests. Mentions of nudity, war, death, danger, terror, injury, PTSD, and panic attacks. But also fluff.

***

The condo was eerily quiet, but that suited Ben just fine. The air inside it, however, felt heavy and still. Ben could do without that on such a hot July day. The air inside was so heavy and still because the building’s air conditioning system was broken, and it was supposed to be brand new.

“Top of the line” the realtor had told him. “Top of the line” was doing absolutely nothing for him now.

The single oversized ceiling fan in the main living space helped, but not much when the air was this humid. Ben looked up at the fan whirring as fast as it could manage to try and cool the air. He guessed that if he were to jump, he could slap it to help it along.

But he figured that he would more likely just break it, given the state of the “top of the line” air conditioning. And he couldn’t jump like he used to anyway. Well actually he just wasn't sure…

He really missed moving his body like he used to before the accident. Almost half a year on crutches was awful. But his older sister, Sam, told him that he shouldn’t be pushing himself.

She insisted that he needed a few more months of physical therapy with her before he tried to pull any stunts. He figured jumping up to slap a ceiling fan counted as a stunt. Especially one that was hanging from the ceiling 10 feet up.

But standing 7'3" inches tall, it didn't seem that high to Ben. With his reach and vertical leap, Ben knew he could have probably done it a year ago. But that was before the car accident. His basketball days are over now thanks to that wreck.

The thought made him bend over and absentmindedly rub his left knee cap with a sigh. It was like he was developing some kind of nervous tick.

His long fingers took turns gently tracing his surgery scars. Even with the surgeon’s best efforts, Ben still thought he looked like they had used a lawnmower on him. It made him self-conscious about his body, which he already had enough of before adding surgery scars to the mix. His lower back, shoulders, arms, and some parts of his legs already took the brunt of his big body's rapid expansion over the years leaving stretch marks from his growth. At least the stitches from his latest procedure had dissolved and were no longer itching him.

Lost in his own train of thought, Ben had carelessly bent down at the waist to play with his scars. This made the massive college student’s whole upper body tilt forward at an angle.

“Mind what you are doing, please!!!” shouted a small voice from his left shoulder. It was said in a gentle tone, instead of annoyed as someone would expect given the result of Ben's thoughtless movement. Something about her British accent always made Ben think Mary Poppins was living with him.

The voice came from a tiny, young looking woman who was shorter than any one of Ben’s long fingers. Even his thumb was bigger than her. She was standing with the front of her body facing the profile of his face many times larger than her own.

Dangling away from his body, the tiny figure was clutching the shoulder fabric of the arm closest to her in the grip of one tiny hand. She was pulling on it hard enough so that the top of the cotton fabric actually lifted up off of his skin.

Ben was much darker compared to her own pale complexion, made even lighter by so many years indoors. And she stood just over 3 and a half inches tall making Ben 30 times her height.

She shifted her position and braced her feet flat against the front of the massive human’s collarbone. A long tail swished back and forth vigorously behind her, helping her steady and balance.

One hand came to rest on her hip as if to emphasize her point. She looked like she was purposefully striking a pose. It was as if she was a great pirate captain measuring the wind speed for a ship sailing across the open ocean.

But instead of such a majestic scene, the reality was far less adventurous. They were both simply waiting together for Ben’s sister and Hazel’s sibling, named Cob, to return from the store. Hazel had been perched on the top of Ben's one shoulder and rather than climb to his back, she decided to hang on till he was upright agian. The plan was for all of them to try to go to the nearly empty, and supposedly luxury, building’s pool. Ben and his passenger were a terribly sweaty and annoyed mess.

Ben still hadn’t adjusted to moving differently when he she was on him, and he worried that he may never at this rate. It put more effort onto her to compensate for his lack of continued awareness, but she didn’t seem to mind.

She relished the chance to have a human to climb on again after Mary and Jack’s passing, and Ben was like the Mount Everest of humans. She enjoyed the challenge.

Given how nimble she was, there was never a real risk of her falling from her perch. Instead, she was more concerned with his obsession over his body.

It was true that the tiny woman was very annoyed today, and her tail swished in a way that looked it. But she was not annoyed at Ben, almost never at Ben. It was becoming harder to ignore or admit, but he was occupying more space for her and not just in a physical sense. It was the heat. It was never hot like this back home. And even though she’d lived in America for most of her life now, she always considered England her real home. And it never got hot like this there.

From her spot dangling on Ben’s left shoulder, she took a look again at his knee, way, way down. Scars were nothing new for her. She’d seen far worse after four years in a war hospital during what would eventually be called World War II. But Ben had kept it wrapped in bandages at her suggestion to keep himself from itching and scratching at the sutures.

She was amazed to learn they’d invented stitches that would dissolve. She wished they had those back when she was nursing. Having to remove them once a wound had healed was novel for Hazel, at first. But by the end of the war, she reckoned that she had cut through and removed hundreds of yards of stitching from humans. She could always do it far quicker than Mary, the human nurse and her companion, ever could. It was a skill that gave her a sense of pride. That she could do so little else at her size in such a place made her relish some superior skill.

Mary, ever stoic, simply reminded the tiny woman with a tail that the stitches were a lot bigger and easier compared to her. So she shouldn’t get too big of a head over it. Still the human nurse was glad for all the help she could get on her shifts in the war hospital, no matter how small the help may be.

Seeing Ben’s healed scars now in the open, she was interested by how different the angles of the incisions were compared to what they would have back then. Although if pilots like Mary's husband, Jack, had suffered injuries like Ben -- they would have had just amputated.

She was surprised that she hadn’t noticed it before, but then again he had kept them covered. Plus, Ben’s size had the habit of sometimes making her freeze up and miss minor details.

That he had such an effect on her was the only thing that did annoy her about the enormous human. She knew he would never hurt her. Generations of her kind had ingrained in instinct into her, she felt a constant warning that Ben was too big and must be a threat.

The hours Ben spent during their first meeting proved the opposite, despite his size. He could also be incredibly delicate. It took so long getting her unstuck from that glue trap and he was so flustered and gentlemanly about it.

He made joke after joke about the situation to make both of them feel better. And he was more embarrassed by having to, ultimately, cut off some of her clothes with a pair of scissors than she had been.

Nudity, at least her own, never really phased her. That it so flustered him to see her in a state of nature was all the evidence she ever needed to trust him. Although as her feelings about him changed that started to as well.

But still, he was just so…big. It was like the word was invented with Ben in mind. Her natural impulses to flee had certainly gotten better with more time and exposure to him. But he was still so utterly gigantic even when compared to any humans she’d previously encountered in her life. And he was so fast, it reminded Hazel of herself.

The Professor always hobbled around with a cane, and Mary wasn’t the most graceful human she’d seen. Mary’s husband, Jack, who was an American pilot during the war, also moved around rather slowly and deliberately having lost both a leg and his eyesight during the war. She still marveled at how Ben could move like that being so enormous, even when he had been on crutches for most of the past several months with his injury.

“Oh Hazel! Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry…” Ben blinked furiously out of his own thoughts. Replying quickly and sheepishly, he gave up on touching his reconstructed knee and stood back upright.

This pleased the little, tailed woman named Hazel, but she found herself on the backfoot again when Ben brought one huge up to his left shoulder as if to catch her. He opened his hand to extend his fingers, straightening them out.

The span of each of his hands from the thumb to the pinky was four times Hazel’s size. His hand got measured once to potentially be drafted to the NBA. He thought it was weird to get measured like he was a farm animal.

Hazel didn't care about his exact dimensions. Just that, however many inches the hand was, it was large enough to block her whole view.

Hazel’s sharp featured face fell under the shadow of his hand as Ben made a literal wall for the small woman, more as reassurance for himself. She wasn’t going to fall, and she especially wasn’t going to fall now that he had stood up straight again leveling out his shoulder. She resumed her former position on top of it.

It had been decades since she had lost her footing, and even then it wasn’t her fault. Hazel sighed as she waited for Ben to figure out for himself why she would find his well meaning gesture bothersome.

She could have just told him, but she took her old Professor’s old approach of a Socratic method, favoring questions over providing answers as a form of instruction.

She took the time to remember the last time she had fallen. A bomb the size of a normal human, not Ben, went through the roof and several upper floors of the makeshift hospital’s building. Then it exploded. It was the loudest thing she had ever heard. Her ears rang for hours afterwards.

Lately as he started acting more like what she imagined his old self was like before the accident, she thought Ben was getting close to being the second loudest thing she’d ever heard. Even his whispered apology just now was enough to make his voice rumble through the whole of her body. It was especially noticeable when she was this close to his throat.

Every time the giant human spoke while she was this close, it sent vibrations up through the soles of her feet into her whole body. No human she’d encountered, not even Mary’s husband, had quite the same effect. Hazel always noticed the absence of it when talking with other humans or her family. Now that she was used to it, she found she would yearn for the sensation.

For a human, Ben was just so…so much. It was concerning at times. All humans were large but something about Ben’s enormous size was especially noticeable today. Conceptually, she understood what being over 7 feet tall meant. But for all intents and purposes, he might as well have told her he was 100 feet tall like the old oak trees on the Professor’s country estate.

Sometimes Hazel felt like she was a human who had been accustomed to riding horses their entire life, to all of a sudden find their preferred stead was replaced with an elephant.

Hazel had only seen an elephant once when Mary had taken her to a circus in the late 1950’s. It was the biggest creature she had ever seen. Ben was the second biggest, followed by his absent sister. That Ben’s sister had still not returned with Hazel’s own sibling, who had accompanied the human shopping, also annoyed Hazel right now.

Maybe it was just the heat making her snippy. She was annoyed at herself, that her inconvenience overtook her patience. She couldn’t stand to wait in front of his mammoth hand any longer.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Just be more mindful please. Remember, you have a passenger. And I appreciate the gesture but it’s truly unnecessary…” She chastised him tenderly.

To Ben, even when she looked mad or annoyed she never sounded like it. He loved her accent, except that it made her sound older than she looked. Hazel reached out casually and patted the closest spot of his palm a few times in reassurance. Ben could just barely feel it. Hazel’s own outstretched hand wouldn’t even cover one of his fingernails. The boy was just so…big.

Ben lowered his own hand, closing his fingers inwards towards his palm tightening them so his knuckles cracked. Another tick of his. Hazel hated when he did that.

Hazel let go of his shirt and took a few steps back towards the center of his shoulder again. She wiped her brow feeling as if her body was making its own pool while they waited. Even the bandana she used to contain her long curly hair, and keep it out of her face, was soaked through. It was also exceptionally frizzy in this heat and humidity. The state of her hair also annoyed her.

Hazel pulled off her bandana causing her hair to nearly stand on end when it was released. Ben thought it made her look like a dandelion about to blow away if there was a breeze. But he dared not share that thought with her and risk annoying her further.

Now on the top of Ben’s once again flat shoulder, she pulled up the sliver of fabric that rested across his powerful tendon to pat her face dry.

“Pardon me.” Hazel said while Ben watched in silent amusement. It was nice to see her be less formal than he was used to her being. The heat must really be getting to her.

Hazel wrung out her bandana several times with her strong hands, the droplets barely registering as they fell onto Ben’s enormous shirt. She shook it out a few times, before rewrapping it around her head with a loud, haughty huff. It was still damp. The annoyances seemed to never end for her today.

“It is just that…I cannot see a thing when you do that you know?” She said with a slight upturn of her chin to peer at the side of his face.

“Have they returned yet?” she asked while trying to stand on her tiptoes to look out the window for herself as if she wasn’t already high enough.

“Nope. Not that I can see…” Ben said slowly.

Ben took a turn peering down through the window. The kitchen’s large single pane of glass over the sink gave him a clear view of most of the building’s parking lot. He realized that the motion made him start to lean again and he raised his hand again instinctively.

But he caught himself and lowered it quickly before he was verbally slapped by Hazel, if you could even call her admonitions something that harsh. Hazel saw him correct himself and nodded ever so slightly in silent approval.

Sam almost always parked in one of the handicap spots when she took Ben’s car. The novelty of getting to park so close to entrances spoke to her lazy core. It was quite a source of contention between them with Ben rightfully worried about someone who may actually need to use a handicap spot.

Sam promised that she would only park in a handicap space when there was an abundance of them, but that wasn’t enough for Ben. Hazel thought they could bicker over it for some time and it seemed like Sam did it on purpose.

The last time they fought over it, Hazel turned out to be correct. She was doing it on purpose in the hopes of forcing him to drive himself finally. Sam finally snapped at her little brother that if he was so concerned about her doing it, then he needed to start driving again so she couldn’t do it.

It was Sam’s unsubtle way of trying to force him to get back into a car again. But Ben had refused to even get into a car ever since his accident. Even the elevator made him jumpy now. Despite being on crutches for several months, he would still painstakingly hop up the stairs with the crutches tucked under an arm rather than feel trapped in a metal box again.

There was an entire row of more than a dozen handicap spots right in the front of Ben’s new luxury condo building. Sam usually left it parked in one of them, hoping to lure her brother into it again somehow.

As far as Ben knew, there was only one occupant who needed it because of her wheelchair. She was a rather nice woman in her late 30’s who lived four levels below him. Ben thinks her name was Susan...maybe. He was terrible with names but always remembered faces. His sister was the same, but just called everyone “Babe” to as a workaround, even with him.

Ben saw that his neighbor, maybe Susan, had parked in her preferred handicap spot right next to the ramp into the building. The rest were empty, meaning Ben’s sister and Hazel’s sibling Cob had yet to return.

“Is the store not just two of your blocks away from here? Could they not have just walked?” Hazel asked annoyed.

She still wasn't used to how quick a walk somewhere could be when she hitched a ride on Ben and guessed his older sister was nearly as fast. Sam wasn’t as big as Ben, but she wasn’t that much smaller.

Ben turned his head to look at Hazel perched on the wide expanse of his left shoulder. He could just make her out in his peripheral vision. If he took a second to really focus he could even make out her little features.

He was amazed by how strikingly beautiful she looked. Few of the human teachers that he had seemed like they could rival her knowledge looked like her. Although he guessed Hazel had a bit of an unfair advantage being over a hundred years old. She'd probably kill at trivia...except for any sports categories. But if she was on the same team as Sam, they'd be unstoppable.

Right now, Ben thought she looked annoyed. And sweaty. But he was too. Ben pinched the front of his tank top between two fingers and pulled it away from his body. He then did it again over and over so it started to flap. The flapping wafted cooler air up and down his body. When the air hit Hazel like a light breeze she smiled in grateful relief.

Ben felt a sense of accomplishment over the change in her face. He would leap on any chance he could get to make her more comfortable with him. Hopefully, this helped make up for his hand mistake earlier.

Ben pulled out his phone from the pocket in his shorts with his other hand to check his texts. He saw no missed calls or texts from his sister and only his several unanswered ones left. She always left him on “read.” Each text asked what was taking so long with increasing impatience.

“She probably ran into someone from work or they’re still out joyriding. You know Cob never turns down the chance to ride in a…”

Ben was about to say car, when he was interrupted by the familiar sound of his own pulling in faster than it should into the parking lot. Thankfully, the parking lot was almost always empty.

Out of the 50 plus units in the building, less than 10 had been bought so far leaving the rest of the building unoccupied. It meant there was lots of space in the parking lot, which Sam fully intended to really explore.

Ben and Hazel watched as Sam curved left then right, finally turning in a tight circle several times that left tire marks on the asphalt. Relieved from Ben’s shirt breeze, it was Hazel turn to see Ben be the one who looked annoyed for a change.

The car finally parked in one of the many handicap spots causing Ben to grumble in disapproval and shake Hazel’s whole body so much that her teeth chattered. Sam emerged then walked to open back of the car and pick up several large shopping bags in both hands.

“Oh that’s why…they went fucking shopping. Again. She was just there yesterday what could she possibly need now.” Ben said, agitated, still flapping his shirt for Hazel. In fact, he sped up the motion a bit making the artificial breeze sway Hazel’s clothes and hair.

Even from the 10th floor, Ben could tell Sam was wearing a bathing suit now. But she had left in shorts and a t-shirt. She was also wearing a wide brimmed straw hat like she was going to the beach. Hazel saw them now as well, but she could not tell where Cob was holding onto Sam. She guessed maybe the hat?

“Language!” Hazel said, lifting her leg to stomp a foot down on his shoulder in protest. Hazel thought she may never get used to the casual swearing of this generation of humans.

Ben only made another grumbling noise in acknowledgement, shaking her whole body up to the teeth again. He wondered how much of a bill she had run up on his credit card. Not that it mattered after the settlement, probably, but like the handicap parking it was the principle of it. Sam seemed to find excuses to buy all kinds of junk when it was his money.

Ben turned his body slowly away from the window and stopped flapping his shirt. The shirt breeze was replaced by the rustle of wind sweeping past his should as as he took long barefoot strides across the condo.

“Do you think they still want to go to the pool? That took longer than I thought it would.” Hazel asked him while peering over her shoulder at a clock on the wall in the kitchen.

She steadied herself, bending her knees slightly and swaying along with Ben as he walked. Her tail resumed swishing again, helping her keep her balance while he moved.

“Yea but would you and Cob really want to go down to the pool again?” Ben asked concern, sneaking a glance at her on his shoulder.

“I don’t love the idea of you just floating in a body of water that big or sitting on the ledge. One of those birds could get you.” Ben said ominously.

He walked over to his front door. On the wall next to it was a large monitor and several buttons. He pressed one button to buzz his sister into the building. She had his key and he didn’t need to do it, but pressing the button activated a camera that filled up the wall monitor with a view of the lobby.

Ben and Hazel saw her bounding up the flight of stairs in the lobby two at a time towards the elevators. She looked like the Grinch stealing Whoville’s Christmas presents in the night. 

“I could just get a big bowl and put some ice cubes in there for the two of you while Sam and I go down.” Ben offered thinking out loud.

Hazel’s annoyed expression returned. The idea of floating in one of his large, used popcorn bowls was more unappealing than continuing to sweat in the condo. Cob would probably love it though.

Ben unlocked the door while he spoke. Then he took a few steps back to rest his butt on the wide back of the sectional couch. The sectional took up most of the living room. He bought the biggest one they made so that Ben could lay on it fully outstretched wherever he wanted.

The movers who delivered it were expecting a place with lots of people or kids. Instead, they were shocked to see just one giant person on crutches who had to bend down so that he could see them under the top of the door frame. Ben couldn’t wait for them to finish and go. One of them was a big fan.

One half of the couch faced the tv while the other faced a wall of windows and the wide balcony after that. Ben crossed his arms over his chest, waiting on the back of the couch and facing the front door with the balcony behind him. He was trying to look as annoyed as he could muster. Hazel missed the breeze from his shirt. She hoped he may resume flapping his shirt to make it return.

“Thank you, but no I do not think I will be going popcorn swimming today. Do you not think that one of those large bags your sister is hauling up here contains some ingenious item that will allow Cob and I to fully enjoy the pool with the two of you.” Hazel asked with a sarcastic emphasis on “ingenious.”

Like the popcorn bowl idea she knew they often meant well. But Ben and Sam could often do or suggest things that were demeaning and patronizing for someone her age. It didn’t seem to bother Cob as much. Hopefully their tagging along and input helped Sam buy something that stood a chance of being useful.

If it wasn’t for Sam’s shopping trips, Ben’s new space would likely still be as empty and filled with echoes as when he first moved in. While Ben was annoyed by her spending, Hazel appreciated the clutter from Sam’s trips. Hazel loathes nothing more than clean, wide open spaces with nowhere to hide and no human objects to use for improvisation.

***

End Pt 1

[gatheringbones]

[“If I were growing up now, I might consider myself trans too,” says my friend Kate. She grew up in the Texas Panhandle during the 1950s and gravitated toward feminism in the 1970s like many of her peers. She adds ruefully: “I’m glad I didn’t have that option.”

Nadia has absorbed those fears, and she wonders whether her friends will see her top surgery as an act of betrayal. Before they left for Florida, Nadia implored her girlfriend, Flora, not to tell lesbian friends of theirs that she’s “getting rid of [her] boobs,” joking that she’d “be out of the club.” Flora says she feared losing access to her lover’s body. Never having undergone surgery before, she was afraid of the unknown. “Will it really solve her problems?” she wondered. Why put yourself through that? And why go to a doctor who specializes in transmale top surgery if you’re not trans yourself?

Nadia has stayed in touch with some of the lesbian-identified people she met online who told her they were having top surgery. A few have since “decided to go on T and now identify as male,” she says. It led Nadia to question her own motivations: “Will I begin to identify as trans? Is removing my breasts some sort of internalized misogyny? Am I betraying the lesbian community?”

The fact that transitioning is now an option for women who identify as male means that Nadia must consider how she wishes to identify herself. Flora reassured her: “Having tissue removed from your body is not going to make you a man.” Several months after she had undergone top surgery, Nadia still sees herself as a woman—albeit a woman without boobs. She has a new job and a new girlfriend—someone she used to work with at the employment counseling nonprofit, who worked with her in her union. Her involvement in the union has energized her in new ways, renewing her commitment to social justice organizing. When we speak, she seems happier and more at ease with her life. Top surgery hasn’t changed her life radically, though it has helped her intimate relationships, she says, and has made her less self-conscious about her body. She goes to the beach or to the Y locker room topless now and no one bats their eyes. “I now look how I’m supposed to look,” she says.

Recently, when she was at a union conference in Las Vegas, Nadia spotted another person at the hotel pool who also had the familiar scars of someone who had had top surgery, who was also there with a girlfriend. Though they didn’t say anything to each other, they looked at each other and shared a glint of recognition. Her story suggests that after being estranged from one another, younger butches and trans men are finding one another and making common cause, welcoming gender-crossers into the Lesbian Nation.

In an effort to blur the boundaries between butch lesbians and transgender men, some have suggested the label “transbutch.” When I ask Nadia whether that label is meaningful to her, she seems unconvinced. “It seems too ‘second wave,’ ” she says. Nadia sees herself as part of feminism’s “third wave,” which is more aware of queer issues and racial diversity, and which refuses to “put people in categories.” Unlike her second-wave feminist foremothers, who, in their enthusiasm for remaking the world, seemed at times pretty prescriptive, she’d prefer to “let them decide for themselves how they identify,” she says. So for now, she’s calling herself “butch and queer.” Or “whatever.”]

arlene stein, from unbound: transgender men and the remaking of identity, 2018

[yoongisleftshoulder]

BTS Reacts: Their S/O is Injured in An Accident

A/N: This is longer than my usual reactions so I apologize in advance lol. Some of these are heavier than others.

TW: As the title suggests, some of these depict injuries such as car accidents, surgeries, random accidents, etc.

SEOKJIN:

Jin and the other members had been in the studio recording vocals for hours before they began getting ready to leave. Jin picked up the last of his belongings, making his way to the door, shutting off the lights behind him. Just as he stepped outside, he unlocked his phone to see what you had texted him throughout the day, used to you giving him little updates about your day. Instead, his heart sunk when he saw thirty-seven missed calls and texts from some of your co-workers and friends. In a panic, he tried calling your cellphone. No answer. Second time, no answer. Third time.....your mother picked up. Before he could even speak, your mother was in histarics describing how a large light fixture had broken while you were at work and fallen right on top of you, knocking you out immediately and injuring you enough to require surgery. Jin had never ran so fast in his life. He practically dropped his phone as he shoved it into his pocket and ran to his car, giving the boys a hurried response of "emergency" before driving off to the hospital. When he arrived, he rushed to the receptionist and demanded to know where you were. She informed him that you were just coming out of surgery and he could see you within the next few hours. The time waiting was brutal and every second seemed like days. Finally, the time to visit you came. He sped walked up to your room, a sigh of relief escaping when you were awake and conscious, turning your head to look at him right away. Jin went to embrace you but stopped, nervous that he would hurt you more. You used your arm that wasn't fractured to pull him in for a kiss, telling him that you were happy he was there for you. The love of your life assured you that there was nothing that would make him leave you until you were better.

YOONGI:

The sight before Yoongi was something he only ever saw in his nightmares. He never in a million years thought this could be real. You were in a hospital bed, hooked up to machines and IVs in a deep slumber. Right then and there he knew the image and the phone call he received about a vehicle running a red light and colliding with your body at a crosswalk would haunt him for the rest of his life. Two weeks had passed and you still had not woken up. You hadn't gotten better and you hadn't gotten worse. You were in a stagnant state and the idea of the possibility that you could remain this way forever terrified him. Yoongi talked to you every single day, telling you about whatever was on his mind and how much he missed you. He wasn't even sure if you could hear him but he didn't care. Another week had passed when a doctor finally told him there had been an increase in brain activity, upping your chance of waking up. This gave him more hope and he never left your side, even recruiting the other members to bring him food and other items if he needed them so he didn't have to leave the room. He even used the bathroom that was attached to your room, rather than using one outside in the hallway. One night, around 2am, he was holding your hand, telling you about a song idea he thought of. During his one-sided conversation, he felt a light squeeze. His eyes shot up to your face, examining you closely, wondering if he had gotten to the point where he was imagining things. After a moment of watching, your eyes finally fluttered open slowly. Yoongi called out your name as if you were far away. Your eyebrows furrowed together, trying to focus on his face, vision blurry.

"Y....Yoongi?" Your hoarse voice spoke.

"God, you're finally awake!"

Yoongi lightly cupped your face with his hands, leaving a tender kiss on your forehead.

"Don't you ever do that to me again. I thought I lost you."

"I love you, Yoongi. I could hear you a lot of the time, you know."

Yoongi smiled. "I love you too, sweetheart."

HOSEOK:

This was quite possibly the worst time you could have been in another country visiting a friend. While you were with your friend, having the time of your life catching up, the two of you decided to visit her uncle's farm and ride horses. Her uncle wasn't home but gave your friend the okay to stop by and ride anyway, knowing that she was experienced with such a thing. Your friend picked out her favorite horse of the bunch while you looked through the stables at your options. A beautiful black, shiny-coated horse caught your eye. With the help of your friend, you saddled up and the two of you rode slowly out of the stables. It became quickly apparent that the horse you had chose was a bit temperamental. Unbeknownst to either of you, this horse was a newbie to the farm and wasn't fully trained regarding his behavior yet. A few minutes into the ride, your horse bucked harshly and raised his front body into the air before crashing back down and falling right on top of you. Your friend immediately called emergency services. You were rushed to the hospital and into emergency surgery. At this point, your friend finally decided to call Hoseok and fill him in. All of the other members were gathered around Hoseok, who placed the phone on speaker so everyone could hear what happened and how surgery was going. The idea that he was in Korea while you were in another country severly injured terrified him. What if he lost you and he wasn't there? The boys did their best to console Hoseok through his tears and panic but they knew they could only do so much. As soon as he could, he booked a flight to where you were. Once he finally arrived and bolted to the hospital, he was directed to your room. A huge wave of relief washed over him when he saw you awake, sitting up and snacking on a small container of jello. You tried to lean forward a bit to meet him halfway but he stopped you, afraid you would hurt yourself. As gently as he could, he embraced you and the touch of your skin made tears fall from his eyes immediately.

NAMJOON:

Car crash. Car crash. The words repeatedly played in his head after he received a phone call he never thought he would get. He had nightmares of things like this happening to you but never in a million years did he think it could be real. Nothing could have prepared him for the moment it became a reality. Jin had to drive him to the hospital being in no condition to be making critical decisions. They both walked right up to reception and explained who they were. The receptionist focused her gaze onto Namjoon upon learning he was your boyfriend, telling him that a driver who made the mistake of paying more attention to their phone than the road had run a red light and slammed directly into your car. Namjoon couldn't help but feel a bubbling anger building within him. If it wasn't for the unknown state of your life, the emotion may have taken over and driven his actions. He pushed the anger to the back of his mind, letting the need to know how badly you were hurt or if you would even survive move his feet. The light in the room you were supposed to be in was shining bright, not a sound coming from inside. The eerily quiet area filled Namjoon with dread, making him wonder if you had to be rushed for some type of emergency surgery. He inhaled a deep breath and stepped into the room and what he saw was not what he was expecting. There you were, lying in the hospital bed....sipping on an orange juice with a magazine on your lap. Your boyfriend wordlessly rushed over to you but stopped when he eyed the cast on your arm, accompanied by a few scrapes and bruises littered across your upper body. He sat down in a chair next to your bed, your free hand reaching for his.

"Joonie? You okay?"

His wide eyes jumped from bruise to bruise, scanning your injured arm.

"You're asking if I'm okay? Baby, look where we are right now."

A moment of silence filled the room before you broke it with laughter. Namjoon watched you nervously but felt a sense of relief when he heard the sound. This told him that you were banged up, sure, but you would ultimately recover. The nightmare was over.

JIMIN:

Jimin was never a fan of the idea of you taking up boxing as a new hobby but he would never tell you that you weren't allowed to do something. He expressed his concerns and never hid the fact that he was worried every time you had a fight set up but all in all, your boyfriend was supporting your every move. Most of the time, however, he wouldn't physically go to your scheduled fights. Sure, he took care of you and cheered for you afterwards, but he couldn't bring himself to watch you getting hurt with his own eyes. One night, he was waiting at home waiting for your manager to bring you back after an event. You were running late, which wasn't necessarily unheard of but for some reason, Jimin had a bad feeling sitting heavy in the pit of his stomach. He picked up his cellphone and called you, your manager picking up instead, sounding somewhat frantic. Your opponent had played dirty and pulled a few illegal moves during the fight, causing you to slam your head down onto the ring flooring incredibly hard, knocking you out immediately. People got knocked unconscious all of the time in boxing but this time was different. You weren't getting back up. An ambulance was called and you were rushed to the hospital. Hoseok drove Jimin there as fast as he possibly could. He insisted on seeing you right away but was told that he had to wait. For almost two hours, he mindlessly paced back and forth through the waiting room, often realizing tears had been running down his cheeks. After an agonizing wait, his ears began ringing when your doctors explained to him your current state. Comatose. You were in a coma. When your head agressively slammed down onto the ground, it caused swelling in your brain bad enough to put pressure on your brain stem. Jimin couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was it even real or was this some sort of hyper-realistic nightmare? Would you ever wake up? If you did, would you have memory loss? What if....what if you forgot about him and your life together. All of these questions were overwhelming him to no end. His head was spinning, he felt sick to his stomach, and his mouth felt drier than a desert. Hoseok directed him to sit down and tried talking him through it the best he could. All they could do was wait.

TAEHYUNG:

Taehyung felt guilty over it but he was angry. Angry that you would be so careless to slip and fall while swimming in a pool with your friends, smacking your skull off of the hard tile siding. Angry that your friends took way too long to realize you were unconscious and bleeding underwater. Angry....that he had bailed on going with you, instead choosing to eat a home cooked dinner with the other members. The idea that he would have been there to catch you and you never would have fallen in the first place if he had just stuck to your plans ate away at him as you lied motionless in the hospital bed. You almost drowned and died, and he wasn't there. Days and nights passed and you still had not woken up from your head injury. There was barely a moment when Taehyung left your side, only leaving to use the bathroom. He didn't even leave for food or drinks, the boys took turns bringing him a days worth of meals each day. Sleeping on a hard plastic chair for a while was uncomfortable but he didn't care. He was terrified that the second he left your side, something would happen and you would be gone forever.

Suddenly, one night, he managed to sleep longer than an hour and was leaning his head over towards yours, his hand locked onto yours tight. Your eyes struggled to open but something was encouraging you to keep trying. The soft, subtle sound of your boyfriend snoring in his slumber. You fought the heaviness of your eyelids, prying them open and focusing your gaze onto his resting face. His undereyes were dark and baggy, his hair scraggly, and stubble showed slightly on his chin. Your mind slowly started coming back to you, remembering what happened and fully processing that Taehyung was next to you, seeming to have never left your side. How long had you been out?

"T.....Tae..." Your aching throat made your voice come out hoarse.

As if you had screamed out his name, Taehyung's eyes sprung open. His head moved back slightly to get a better look at your face, making sure he wasn't dreaming. When he saw you staring back at him with a soft smile, he practically jumped out of his seat. He called for a nurse to come check on you now that you were awake and apparently speaking. As the nurse ran bloodwork and checked over your new state of consciousness, Tae turned his body to hold your hand, his other running through your hair, every so often placing light kisses on your temple.

JUNGKOOK:

From the moment Jungkook arrived at the hospital, his eyes were glued to your frame. They were as wide as you had ever seen them. He was looking at you almost as if you were some type of alien.

"Jungkook....it's just stitches and a fractured ankle, I'll be fine." You giggled, watching his mouth fall open, seemingly dumbfounded.

An agressive dog had gotten away from its owner, finding you walking down the sidewalk, latching its teeth into your leg and causing you to trip down a curb and bend your ankle in a way it should not have been bent. Jungkook was acting like you had been shot and were actively dying in front of him.

"You don't need to be so worried, you know." You continued.

"Don't need to be worried? I was in the middle of a live when Jimin called me saying you broke something and were attacked! How could I have not been worried from that? And why did Jimin know before me??" Jungkook rattled off.

Jungkook's eyebrows furrowed when you responded to his concerns with laughter. "What??"

"I'm alive and will be fine. They're discharging me tomorrow. It's not a big deal, Kookie. And Jimin was showing me the dinner he had just made on videochat so he kind of saw it happen."

Jungkook released a deep sigh, saying nothing. Both of his large hands cradled yours and his eyes softened, relaxing from their previously wide state.

"Next time you go out on a walk, I'm going with you."

You yet again chuckled, amused by the fact that he wasn't asking.

"Whatever you say, Kookie."

[wogot3]

part 7 cringe (warning suggestive / triggering themes)

info is outdated

i believe i was challenging myself to create unique characters (from most toxic to healthy) at the top of my head and then they turned canon haha

the employers in the comic are conductor (polaroid) and auditor

Aimus: - predicts the future (sometimes) - mom person - stims - publicly embarrasses themself too much - secret therapist enthusiast

Mi Jing: - shocked by everything (constant heart problems) - wants to work on service one day to make everyone happy - scared of spiders, but will compliment spiders - one of the first coders on sleepwalker simulation

Lolita: - safety advices and restrictions 24/7 - prepared for everything - does surgery on himself often for mild reasons (and succeeds) - very self conscious and apologetic

Wabub: - cries on dramas every time - thinks of the most unnecessarily complex plans - good at worldbuilding, never shares them - can be a serious leader, but hoards stickers so much that it's hard to take her serious

Sol: you already know lmao

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[whumpypepsigal]

Hey there whump-fellow! I was wondering if you might help me out a bit. I'm writing an original superhero story for Camp NaNo this year and I want the main character's superpower to come with whumpy side-effects, but I am having a hard time coming up with anything even slightly original in that regard. Do you have any suggestions or examples I might play off of? Also, I am going to ask around to a few whump blogs to cast a wider net! Any suggestions as to whom I should ask?

hi there! that’s awesome… wish you all the best.

im not very good with coming up with good/original ideas and articulating them lol but let me try-ish;

a superhero resistant fighter with lack of sense of touch/pain + super-fast metabolism : can’t feel when he’s injured till he passes out due to blood loss or fully conscious during surgeries as he feels no pain AND burns through anesthesia within secs.

there are so many awesome whump blogs who can help you out, im gonna tag a few but if any of my beautiful fellow whump blogs see this post please feel free to help our dear anon here

@deepwoundsandfadedscars @set-phasers-to-whump @fyeahvulnerablemen @aceofwhump @99point9percentwhump @whumpty-dumpty @whumpappreciation @of-wounds-and-woes @whumpslist