#top surgery has done me well i must say

[braebraethefool]

ive changed into so many iterations of myself this summer

[doberbutts]

I want to talk a bit about the whole "fat trans men are denied top surgery" thing because it's true. Many surgeons have BMI requirements and will not operate on anyone classified as more than "overweight".

But I also want to discuss how testosterone often makes you gain weight, putting trans mascs in a fairly difficult position.

When I started testosterone, I weighed 178lbs. I rapidly shot up to 198lbs. At 5'10" I'm classified as just over a BMI of 30 according to my discharge papers, making me classified as obese. I also started having a bit of a cholesterol problem and being that A: I've also hit my 30s in that time and B: I have an extensive family history of high cholesterol in the men in my family, we tried changing my diet and exercise to see if it was lifestyle or if it was genetic.

In that timespan I dropped 3lbs (bringing me to 195lbs, just under that obese line) and my cholesterol continued to climb. It's been about 7 or 8 months with no other change.

When I tell people that I weigh roughly 200lbs, they don't normally believe me. To be clear I don't really care about any of these numbers, I care about my overall health irt stamina, strength, fatigue, etc and I care about my actual muscle mass and body condition. There are, admittedly, times where I look at my stomach and go :( aww I used to be skinnier. But then there's also times like two nights ago when I looked in the mirror after my shower and just saw A Guy standing there looking at me.

Anyway. My point is, testosterone (and age) made me gain a significant amount of weight, and nothing really I've done has gotten it off. Which is fine with me, because I feel better at this current condition and am stronger and have more stamina than I ever did at lower weights even when I was a competing athlete. Everyone I tell my weight and BMI to is shocked to learn that I am 200lbs and classified as obese. From complete disbelief until I stand on a scale, to the immediate "you wear it well" or "it's all muscle though", to the inevitable "okay but BMI is a load of shit anyway", clearly even though that's what the numbers say I am not exactly the poster child for what lawmakers and fat phobic doctors fear monger about when they discuss the "obesity epidemic".

I am lucky enough that while my surgeon is being very annoying in other ways, she at least has no BMI requirement. For 7 or so months I have been putting in a lot of effort to try and lose some weight to fix my cholesterol and I have pretty much nothing to show for it. If it's that hard for me, someone who visually doesn't really look fat, how difficult must it be for someone who is definitely not toeing the line like I am. How impossible for someone who is in the 400lb, 500lb, 600lb range.

Testosterone makes you gain weigh, and then surgeons won't operate if you gain too much. What a fucking joke.

[cocklessboy]

I see a lot of people saying that gender-affirming health care like top surgery for trans people like myself should be freely available (which is correct), but one of the reasons they often give is that top surgery is very safe and has a very low rate of complications compared to other surgeries. And I often see transphobes clutching their pearls over the few people who do have complications. What about them?! What if you're one of the unlucky ones?! Should we really let those transes risk it??!!!

Setting aside the fact that no one raises such concerns over other types of surgery, I'd like to use myself as an example for anyone who needs one.

In May of 2022 I had top surgery (double mastectomy). The surgery was done by a gynecological surgeon, not a plastic surgeon, because that way my insurance would cover it.

The surgeon did his job and removed the breast tissue, but he did not make it look pretty. I have dog-ears at both ends of both scars (extra bits of skin that hang off in a very unappealing fashion), my chest still looks unnaturally flat with no muscle or fat despite a lot of working out, and one of the stitches didn't heal properly and was left as an open wound through "secondary healing" for several months before it finally healed over into a very large scab (and eventually a very large scar). My nipples are uneven and irregular and look... well, just awful, really. Due to bad genetic luck, I wound up with keloid scars which, instead of getting smaller and lighter over time, have instead expanded, becoming thicker and darker. Worst of all, I now have chronic nerve pain in my chest. My GP thinks the surgeon must have hit a nerve during the procedure, and now I have random sharp pains all over my chest even now, nearly ten months later. The pain might improve with time, or it might not.

I basically had almost every possible complication one can have from this surgery short of infection or death. Some of the aesthetics might be fixable with more surgery (though plastic surgery will be expensive). Some are probably permanent. I might never feel comfortable taking my shirt off in public again. I might have to tattoo over the scars.

And pay attention to this next bit, because it's the most important part of this whole post: I do not regret the surgery. Even with all the complications and the ugly state of my chest and the pain. If someone said they could push a button and make it so that the surgery never happened and I'd have a perfect, unmarred chest with C-cup breasts again, I would tell them to take their button and fuck right off. Because even with basically the worst of all possible outcomes, that surgery was the best thing that ever happened to me.

I don't feel good about taking my shirt off in front of people now. I do think my chest is ugly. But it's a male chest now. When I put on a t-shirt, it rests flat against my chest. No one will ever mistake me for a woman again. I'll never have to wear a bra or binder ever again.

The dysphoria I felt from having breasts was so severe that a hideously scarred chest and chronic pain are vastly preferable. The euphoria I feel when I look in the mirror with a shirt on is something I never knew I was capable of feeling.

And it's my fucking body, and it's up to me what I do with it. If I wanted to tattoo myself from head to toe, or file my teeth into fangs, or have a doctor break my legs and surgically implant extensions to make me taller, that's my right because it's my body. The fact that all those things are regarded as basically acceptable (if a little weird), but I had to have a dehumanizing interview with an old cis psychiatrist who hates trans people and wants us all sterilized just to get a piece of paper giving me permission to have my tits removed, is fucking absurd.

Top surgery (of any kind) is generally very safe, and complications are rare. But even with the worst outcome, a trans person will basically never regret it.

And frankly, if a cis woman wants her tits cut off, or a cis man wants a pair of boobs to play with on his own chest, more power to them because literally who gives a fuck what people do to their own bodies? I saw a dude on TV when I was a kid who'd tattooed his whole body to look like a cat, filed his teeth into fangs, and had loads of plastic surgery to surgically implant whiskers and make his face look more feline. It was weird! But literally no one said that should be banned because he might regret it. It's his body to do whatever weird shit he wants with.

The next time someone clutches their pearls and kicks and screams about how you can't let someone permanently alter their body in a way they might regret, feel free to point to me and my complete and utter lack of regret.

(Or have a little fun with it, go hard in the other direction, and say you absolutely agree, which is why we should ban ALL non-emergency surgeries until the patient has been FULLY evaluated by three psychiatrists - along with tattoos and piercings. Oh, and ballet lessons for anyone under the age of 25, since ballet changes the structure of a child's body FOREVER.)

[aquilacalvitium]

Rating my favourite fictional characters on how much I'd trust them to do my top surgery

Wander 🎩🪕(Wander Over Yonder) - Bugs Bunny level antics that waste about eleven minutes of everyone's lives and leave every single person convinced he couldn't do it. It would be the cleanest and easiest top surgery on record and I would walk away unscathed.

Commander Peepers 👁��(Wander Over Yonder) - He'd take it deadly seriously and spend the whole thing nervously sweating. He would get it done but it wouldn't be flawless. Gods help me if Hater walks into the room during the surgery.

Jack Skellington 💀🎃(Nightmare Before Christmas) - A scientific and analytical mind bodes well for surgery. However. He is a skeleton and I'm fairly certain he doesn't understand how human bodies work or that we can't dismantle ourselves like some monsters. 0/10. Love him to bits. Wouldn't trust him as far as I can throw one of his rib bones.

Fantoccio 🧵🎭(Billie Bust Up) - I mean... I think? He'd take it seriously enough but I'm not sure he'd know what he was doing.

Barnaby 🦉☠️(Billie Bust Up) - Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me. ☠️☠️☠️

Alastor 🦌🔪(Hazbin Hotel) - Must I repeat the above. ☠️☠️☠️

Ingo/Emmet 🔼🔽🚂(Pokemon) - Yeah actually I think they'd do well. They'd take it seriously, do it flawlessly and I'd walk away with a chest flatter than Emmet's hopes and dreams after Ingo got Isekai'd

Sun/Moon ☀️🌙(FNAF) - Ha. HA. HAHAHA. I can't trust them with children's safety scissors.

The Innocent 🪁🐕(Koozå) - Sir/Ma'am/Other title. That is a child.

The Trickster 🪄🎁(Koozå) - Wouldn't even need to go under. I have seen this man summon people out of nothing, my chest would be flat before I could blink. He'd make a performance out of it though and probably make me feel not entirely safe because he is peak moral ambiguity.

The Doctor ⏳️🌌(Doctor Who) - One would take it seriously but I wouldn't trust his unsteady hands. Two would probably have an anxiety attack so that's a nope. Three, Four and Five I trust to get it done safely and seriously. Honestly Six is... well he's certainly the most eccentric regeneration so probably not. Seven I'm not sure would do it properly even though he could take it seriously. Then again he could surprise me, he's more compitent than he appears. Eight and Nine? Ah shit I dunno honestly. Ten's a yes, Eleven is a huge nope, Twelve is a very safe yes and Thirteen is also a safe yes. Fourteen is just Ten repeated so also a yes. I don't know Fifteen well enough to say yet.

James "Jamie" McCrimmon 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🗡(Doctor Who) - He's got the steady hands and seriousness needed, yes. Unfortunately he is from the 18th century and about sixty years before anaesthesia was invented.

Sebastian 🖥🕸(Stardew Valley) - Yeah, actually. I think he'd take it seriously and have steady enough hands for it. I'm in safe company there 👍

Nico the Accordion Man 🪗⚙️(Kurios) - ??? I have no idea??? He's a handyman which bodes well and whatever he was doing with his fingers during Hypnotique tells me he's got the hands for it, but also Have You Seen the Way This Man Moves?

Chief Clown 🤡🎪(Classic Doctor Who) - (Oh yeah I'm getting hella obscure for some of these characters.) I'm pretty sure this man is a homicidal maniac. I have seen the face he makes when he kills someone. I wouldn't trust this lunatic within one mile of me while I am fully conscious and he is unarmed. Especially considering he has been unarmed every time I have seen him kill.

Sweet Cap'n Cakes 🎶🥯(Deltarune) - I love these three adorable sweethearts with my whole chest. And if I let them near my chest with anything sharp I'm afraid I won't have anything left to love them with.

Rouxls Kaard ♥️♦️♠️♣️(Deltarune) - This man. This indigo beanpole. This walking homosexual disaster. Can't make a puzzle more complex than "put box on button." Respectfully and deeply affectionately... ✨️no✨️

Wally Darling 👁🍎(Welcome Home) -

Hatbox Ghost 🎩🦯(Haunted Mansion) - NO. To both film and ride versions for different reasons.

Ghost Host 🪓➰️(Haunted Mansion) - 2023 film Hosty? Never. Put that axe down, sir. Ride Hosty? Well... He's a goober who's not half as dangerous as he appears. But I still wouldn't trust him to know what he's doing or particularly care too much if he accidentally killed me.

The Phantom 💀🎩(Phantom Manor) - Quite honestly I couldn't say. This man was adept at murder but only when given a reason, like his victims wanting to marry his daughter. I can thankfully say that I am queer enough for that to not apply to me. Doesn't make me trust him though.

The Prophet 🖤🎤(Legion of the Black) - Uh. Yeah, I think so. Yeah I think I'd be in okay hands, it wouldn't be flawless but it'd get done well enough.

Captain Rex 🪖🚀(Star Wars: The Clone Wars) - While I'd like to say battlefield first aid would give him some experience - which is true - surgeries are left up to droids. But even so I would say I'd be in safe hands. I trust him to get the job done well.

Ahsoka Tano 🗡🔶️(Star Wars: The Clone Wars) - Oh yeah. OH yeah. Safer than a Jedi holocron in the Jedi Temple library vault (before Cad Bane showed up, anyway).

Natemare 👁🎸(Natewantstobattle) - Ah yes because that is a level of mental instability that I trust to safely and confidently give me surgery. /s

Phantom 📜✒️ (Natewantstobattle) - If you know Phantom you're probably expecting a no, but he holds up his ends of any deal he makes! I absolutely trust him to give me the easiest, cleanest surgery ever. What I don't trust him to do is let me enjoy it for long because whoopsy-doopsy I'm now trapped inside his cane forever.

Lukas 🐈📖(Minecraft Story Mode) - Oh honey no, you stick to your books. He can kick ass and write a good story but he could never perform a surgery.

Helsknight ⚔️🔥(Hermitcraft) - The only things this man knows are Quote Meme, Rap and Be Pathetic. He made a pitfall trap for Welsknight because he forgot that literally every single Hermit has elytra and can fly, and then boasted about it, only to get deeply humbled. He has a total brain cell count of -1. I think you know my opinion.

[phaticserpent]

Ultron/Reader request where he is dating a person with top surgery scars and he asks about them :3 (I'm a transmasc person who loves him and ahhhh)

Omg of course!! Ultron lovers unite <3

Warning: surgery scars (?)

It was summer, and the weather was unbearable. You fanned yourself in the heat, but you were only fanning hot air directly to your face. Even though you were wearing a tank top, it only made you all the more hotter.

"Good afternoon." You yawned. Ultron smiled as he greeted you. "Must be nice to not be affected by the weather." You sighed.

"It has its perks." Ultron chuckled lightly. "I can turn on the AC, if you want."

"Nah, it's fine." You dismissed. "I can finally do something I've always wanted."

"What's that?" Ultron looked up to see you remove your shirt, his gaze averting from instincts. "I thought you were going to say, I don't know, 'go inside the fridge' or something like that."

"Oh, that too." You smiled and Ultron had to hold you back from fully committing the act. You felt so much more liberated. Meanwhile, Ultron couldn't help but notice your scars. They weren't too noticeable, especially since it's been a while. However, Ultron could recognize the different pigmentation of the skin and the outline.

"If you don't mind me asking, but I can't help but notice how neat and well healed your surgery scars are.....where did you get them done? Or did you do anything to them that they healed so well?" Ultron asked and your mouth opened slightly before closing.

You tilted your head to think. "I don't mind, and I'm really glad you noticed that! I got my surgery done in New York City, by this really awesome doctor. My friend actually recommended them."

"That's awesome!" Ultron smiled.

"Yeah! If you want, you can feel it. It feels really smooth and just patchy."

"You wouldn't be uncomfortable?"

"Of course not, I trust you. You don't make me feel uncomfortable....." you smiled. Ultron held out his hand as his thumb gently brushed against the scar.

"The doctor really patched it up nicely......such exquisite work." Ultron mumbled. "I'm going to assume a doctor like this wasn't cheap."

"Oh yeah, definitely not. My insurance covered almost half and it still was pretty pricey."

"Oh damn.....still, I'm glad you found the perfect doctor." Ultron sheepishly retracted his hand back. "And I'm happy it all worked out in the end."

Immediately, you needed to help take Ultron's mind out of the dark hole he was about to dive into. So, you let out a teasing chuckle, "you know, you were kind of tickling me."

"Hm? I was?"

"Yeah! I gotta get you back for that." You grinned as you started to 'tickle' him. Ultron just sat there in disbelief as you attempted to get him to crack.

"......I can't be.....tickled."

"Don't ruin the mood." You frowned.

"You're so weird."

"And you love me for it."

"I do."

[astaribun]

Any body but me

Fandom: BG3

Pairing: Tav x Astarion

Rating: E

Tags: Trans!Tav, Transmasc!Tav, Tav is stealth, Tav has had top surgery, Tav has had no bottom surgery, Pan!Astarion, everyone is anxious, and traumatised, angst, fluff, dysphoria, Trans affirming, (vampire) bite kink, I have a thing for fangs clearly, (im)proper use of tadpole mind-link, bratting begging, orgasm control

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh gods, the consequences of my own actions, Tav thought. Flirting with Astarion had been fun and, honestly, hard not to with how this sassy Elf encouraged it at every opportunity. His dreams, when not taken over by the guardian, had been full of Astarion in all kinds of ways. From romantic picnics to wet dreams to nightmare rejections, Tav'd truly not had a moment's peace since the abduction and the tadpole in his head wasn't even the biggest cause for gods' sake.

And now he was hopelessly tangled in the web Astarion had spun for him. A web which felt so much tighter now that it was clear your favourite vampire wanted to sneak off to the woods to have sex. Most people would probably be ecstatic, but Tav was worried. He had so far avoided any need to disclose he was trans and relished in being treated as just one of the guys. But what would happen when they undressed and he didn't have the parts one might expect? A rational part of him chimed in that surely Astarion had slept with a trans person or two before, but the dysphoria and fear were so much louder.

---

At the same time Astarion was dissociating in his tent, also worried about having sex with Tav. This was all his plan and yet... He'd only ever done this in service of Cazador, bringing people back for him and to their doom. For his plan to work he had to use his body one or two more times and get Tav on his side. Sweet enthusiastic kind Tav who'd shown him he could break Cazador's rules, who'd kept offering him his tasty blood even though he'd practically attacked him that first night.

Maybe Tav would help him if he just asked? No, no one trusts a vampire, not truly. Tav must be doing it because it made him stronger. And because the poor Elf boy was falling for his seduction like so many before him. But then why did his heartbeat spike in fear at his proposition? Oh hells, could Tav be a virgin?! He had better be gentle, after all, he had to keep Tav on his side at least until he could have his revenge on Cazador.

---

And so when Tav finally walks up to the clearing with legs made of jello and a stomach ready to cast acid splash he is greeted by a shirtless Astarion whose smug look falls off his face in seconds. He rushed to cup Tav's face. "Are you alright darling? this seems like more than the normal amount of nerves," he muses.

Fuck, Tav thought, if he hadn't asked I could've just held it in. Instead tears well up and he starts shaking. "I-", his voice cracks, "Iliedtoyou", he blurts out. Well, it's not inaccurate, but gods is it a terrible way to start this conversation.

"Wha- what do you mean?", Astarion asks, "do you not want this? me?" Although it's subtle, a twang of pain slips out on that last word. The plan can't fall apart already! Did he push too much? Picked the wrong target? Hells why does nothing ever go his way.

No words seemed right, his head too loud to think, and time ever ticking on, Tav did something most likely stupid: He kissed Astarion, catching them both by surprise. Though when they regained the ability to think he found himself pushed away by Astarion.

"What in the hells are you doing, you better start making a lot of sense real fast" Astarion exclaimed. Tav wiped away his tears and took a small step back. "I'm sorry, I do want this- you- us." He stuttered. "But?" Astarion asked. "But I'm trans."

"Gods, is that all? Here I was worried it was something like you being..." He trailed off clearly catching himself about to say something he didn't want to admit, "some monster using a disguise spell or something".

Well, that wasn't the reaction he expected. "So you don't mind that I don't have the parts one might expect on a guy?" Tav asked, his voice already steadier. "My darling boy, I am well versed in all configurations, you needn't worry your pretty little head over something like that," Astarion said reaching out and petting Tav's hair gingerly.

With relief washing over him Tav felt ready for tonight for the first time and while their first kiss hadn't been ideal there were hopefully many more to have tonight. "So do you still wanna do this?" He asked sheepishly, not having enough courage to press his lips to Astarion's again without an invitation.

"Of course, I clearly need to create better memories for you than whoever or whatever made you worry so" Astarion spoke in that same sensual whispery tone he always used. He placed Tav's hand gently on his chest and cupped his face with the other pulling him in for a kiss. At first slow and gentle and then hungrier, fangs dragging across Tav's bottom lip.

Astarion gently tugs at his shirt and Tav lifts his arms to help get it off. A few more chaste kisses before Astarion starts trailing them down Tav's neck and chest, giving special attention to the ageing crescent scars, on his way to where pants now block his path.

In wordless command, Astarion tells Tav to strip and lay down, getting undressed himself while watching intently. "I'd like to taste you", he purrs, "may I?". With a small chuckle, Tav replies "You've tasted my blood before, Astarion~". Rather than answer Astarion got on his knees and pulled Tav closer.

He kissed and nibbled the inside of Tav's tighs first, enough to leave a mark but never to draw blood. It was torturously slow and it dawned on Tav what his plan was. He was going to have to beg, wasn't he? Fuuuuuck, maybe he should've just said yes, he thought, but then I wouldn't have had this...

If Tav thought it was bad then he was wrong. As Astarion got close to Tav's pulsing wet pussy he made sure to let his breath pass over the sensitive parts screaming to be touched and nothing else always going just around, waiting.

"Astarion-", Tav breathed, "please", arching his back looking desperately for friction. "Ah ah ah, say it," Astarion grinned, "tell me what you want." He then stopped his teasing touches completely to look up at Tav from between his legs.

Tav couldn't look at him as he spoke "Taste me, touch me, fuck-" , but something made him look directly in those deep red eyes as he pleaded "please, Astarion, I need you". And gods was he rewarded. Finally, those lips went from torture to pleasure and Tav couldn't help but moan.

Astarions tongue skillfully hitting his clit in an almost hypnotic pattern was driving Tav mad. However, the insecurities crept back in as they tried to convince him that Astarion couldn't possibly see him as a guy right now. Who could when they had a mouth full of pussy and heard the high-pitched moans no voice training could change.

Just as all the built-up pleasure was sinking away a voice pierced the loudness in his mind. "Bad boy~" The instant heat roaring through his whole body blew away the doubts as just those words said oh so dominantly. "Stay right here with me and just feel" Astarion added as he lightly grazed Tav's sensitive folds with his fangs.

What could Tav do but obey? He was safe in Astarion's mouth and hands and those were skilled indeed. Spurred on by Tav's renewed enjoyment and pleased with his new tadpole party trick Astarion upped his tempo and started alternating between licking, sucking and gently nibbling at the clit. Until, finally, when he felt how close Tav was giving him one final command: "Come for me, pet."

Tav came, hard, crying out Astarion's name. He felt miles away while Astarion savoured the taste of his success. The sexy bastard was still licking his lips when Tav started coming down into his body again. When he met Astarion's gaze the vampire spoke, out loud, "Such a good boy for me~". And that was the last push Tav needed before he got to his knees and pushed astarion over and onto his back. "Fuck you," he growled. "I just did, darling~," Astarion replied, smirking.

Seeing him laying there so casually, erection standing tall, eyes still hungry in a way that was so different from when he wanted his blood was not something Tav could've prepared for. But boy was he going to make use of it. And if that was part of Astarion's plan he didn't care, he was having fun and felt safe, so why not?

Tav gracefully crawled over Astarion and tasted himself on Astarion's lips. A hand found its way into his hair as the kissing turned passionate and downright dirty. The perfect time to stealthily line up and instantly sink down on his dick. The moan that elicited was oh so sweet and left those fangs he knew so well perfectly on display... Tav couldn't help but give a little squeeze.

In response, Astarion quickly buried his teeth into Tav's neck and started thrusting ferally. Whether intentional or not, the familiar tinge of the mind link sent raw words and feelings straight gay to Tav who sent his in return to create a feedback loop of pleasure and desire as they rode and fucked each other in animalistic instinct. Neither of them lasted long before they climaxed together and collapsed in contentment.

[deandoesthingstome]

Night Moves

Chapter 8

Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)

Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.

Word Count: 5226

Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, alcohol, general violence,  and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI. Edit: If you were here before, know that I removed drug use and drug addiction, as well as makeup sex. I had a plan and things changed, as they so often do.

Chapter Warnings: Worried and Out-of-His-Mind Walter, police procedure (sure), family check ins, some really questionable hospital procedure, fingering, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving).

A/N: I am not a doctor or anything, but I will tell you I had a friend experience one of the scenarios I mention in this chapter, so it’s not completely made up. Also, while the mystery is solved, I’d still like Walter and Alex to have some fun, so there will likely be one more chapter.

Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.

Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.

Playlist:  Night Moves Songs 27-29��Direct Spotify Link

Masterlist

They won’t let him into the ER, so Walter paces in the lounge for about 20 minutes before he walks back to the nurses station to see if there is any news.

“Sir, I completely understand how frustrated you must be, but please be assured this is the number one trauma hospital in the region and our top oral and maxillofacial surgeon was on call when her ambulance called in and he is with her right now. They’ve also called in a neurologist to begin taking scans and she will be back to treat her when she wakes up.”

“When will she wake up?” Walter can’t even believe the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not dumb. A thirty minute ambulance ride and a twenty minute ER trip isn’t fixing what happened to her but he doesn’t know what else to do right now.

The nurse takes a deep breath and gives him her warmest smile, full of the same care and compassion she gives all patients.

“If you would like a private room to wait, I can see where they think they're going to put her when she’s out of surgery.”

Walter nods and while he’s sure she’d come back to the lounge to get him, he waits against the wall across from her desk, a little out of the way but not so far he would have to wait one minute longer to find a place he can just put his head in his hands and let the rage dissolve into tears. He’s clenching his jaw while he thinks of everything else he should have done this morning. 

Call out sick. Wait for Sy with her. Take her home and lock her up in his apartment.

He’s been in the private room for about thirty minutes when Rachel calls to see if he needs anything.

“Commander’s giving a press conference in a few hours if you want to watch,” she tells him.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, saying nothing more and not caring about the silence.

“Walter? Do you need someone to talk to?” She knows he does, but she also knows at this moment he’s lost and doesn’t know what to do. She waits while he considers, can practically hear the gears spinning in his head. “I need to be here for the news, but I can talk right now if you want?”

“I appreciate it, Rachel. I really do. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to say anything productive.” Walter slumps in the semi-comfortable chair next to the bed he wants to see Alex in sooner rather than later and holds his head in one hand while he presses the phone to his ear with the other.

“Call or text when you hear anything about her. Or if you decide you do want to talk.”

“Yeah. Yeah, alright.” He hangs up and closes his eyes, but he can’t get the image of her face out of his head no matter what he does. He knows it’s not going to matter, whatever the outcome is as long as she is alive, he’s gonna figure it out. Figure out how to take care of her, how to nurse her back to health, how to make sure she’s never in danger again.

He can feel the moisture gather and since no one is around he lets it happen. Lets big tears spill down his cheeks while leans forward, elbows on his knees and hands clasped. He can count on one hand the number of times in his life he felt this helpless, useless. It’s seriously messing with his head. Maybe he should call Rachel. 

He manages to hold out and by the time the urge to phone a friend has passed, an army of staff is wheeling a bed into the room. There’s Alex, hooked up to a million wires connected to bags of liquid and machines being rolled in with her. At least he assumes it’s Alex. Her face is completely covered in bandages and her eyes are still swollen shut.

“Detective Marshall?” a man in scrubs calls to him from the doorway to the room. “I’m Doctor Khan. May I have a word outside?”

“How is she?” Walter is up on his feet, eager to hear anything this person has to say. Until he steps outside.

“Are you next of kin? Any relation?”

It’s like a cold slap in the face and he has to take a few moments.

“No. Just a friend. On the case.”

“Any idea how to get a hold of someone who can make some medical decisions for her?”

“What kind of decisions?” Ice is running through his veins now.

“We’ve had to induce a coma. The head trauma was drastic and this was the only way to stave off the effects of the concussion and prevent further trauma and possible relapse. Her jaw is wired shut, but will require additional surgery once we can wake her. We need someone to sign off.”

“You say she’s in a coma? So I can’t talk to her?”

“Oh, you can talk to her. As a matter of fact, it’s recommended that someone do, as often as possible, while she’s out. Studies have suggested it’s one of the best ways to keep the synapses vibrant, working. She won’t be able to respond, obviously, but subconsciously we believe she can hear and process these sounds. And if they are from someone she knows, trusts, it’s even better. But we can’t do anything more until we have the proper authority.”

“And I’m not that, am I?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“But I can be in the room with her?”

“For now, at least. We can allow it due to your position with the department, but if the family arrives and rescinds permission, there isn’t anything I can do about that. Do you have any way of getting in touch with them?”

“I’ll figure something out. Thanks doctor.”

Walter steps back into the room and waits for the final staff to finish whatever it is they are doing and leave before he drags the chair closer to her bed and sinks in next to her. He clasps her hand in both of his again, lifting her fingertips to his lips as he closes his eyes.

“Alex, I don’t know if you can hear me, but they said I should talk to you, so that’s what I’m going to do. I probably shouldn’t bring it up, but I’m so sorry, Alex. Sorry for this mess you are in. I’d trade places with you in an instant if I could.”

He opens his eyes and watches for any movement, any sign she has heard him, but there is nothing happening in the room except the mechanical whirr of the machine breathing for her, and the beeps from the monitors indicating it’s doing the job and her heart rate is steady, her blood pressure is good, her body temp is regulated. There are drips of who knows what every now and then into the saline running into her system.

“I’m gonna turn on the tv here, okay?” It’s rhetorical, he knows, but he’s just going to narrate to her until he can think of something else meaningful to say. “Commander’s going to make a statement about what happened soon, and I want to hear it if that’s okay. I don’t want to upset you. And I’m going to figure out how to get a hold of someone for you, okay? Unless you wanna wake up and solve that little problem for me, whaddya say?”

He knows it’s too much to hope for, but he wonders if she’ll sense the little bit of levity he can manage.

He presses the remote and scans the channels until he finds a local news station, leaving it on low until the main event.

“I’m going to text Rachel. See if she can get me some contact information at your apartment building. Oh, hey. Does your friend across the hall know anyone? What’s her name by the way?”

He taps out a few questions on his phone, gives Rachel the apartment numbers of Alex and her neighbor and asks if she can have someone call the manager to see if they can help at all. He sees the text bubbles and doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until he sees Rachel’s response and he lets it out. They are about to start, but she’s passing the task onto another officer and will get back to him as soon as she has any info. He taps out a quick, yet sincere thanks, then turns up the volume and sits back to watch the proceedings, taking Alex’s hand once again.

“They’re getting started. How about you watch this with me, okay?”

He sees the commander take the podium, camera lights flash, and a few questions are shouted out prematurely. The commander waits until there is silence, although the cameras are still clicking away.

“At approximately 3:35 this afternoon, local law enforcement in partnership with the county sheriff's office accessed private property just outside of town in an attempt to prevent an assault and possible murder.”

More lights flash, and more questions are shouted.

“In the course of the events,” the commander raises his voice, “the perpetrator was shot and killed after refusing to comply with commands to cease his attack. His victim was taken immediately to Abbott Northwestern Hospital, where a team of specialists has taken life-saving measures. We understand the victim to be in critical but stable condition at the moment. We will not be releasing any information about the victim until family can be reached.”

“Is it true the perpetrator was a member of the Minneapolis Police Department and will you tell us the name?” a reporter calls out, still not waiting for an official invitation to questions.

“We believe the perpetrator to be responsible for a number of unsolved missing persons cases over several years, as well as a rash of assaults on women in the downtown Minneapolis area over the prior three months. Evidence connecting the several assaults with one another as well as the possible missing persons and recent murder of Trixie McCabe has come to light, and our perp is being considered as the only suspect at this time.

“I’d like to commend Detective Walter Marshall for initiating the task force to look into these cases as well as Rachel Chase for her profiling assistance. At this time, the acting lead on the case, Detective Greeves, with assistance from Profiler Chase, will make an additional statement about the operation, the suspect, and our next steps.”

Walter is speechless. The commander said “acting” which implies “not permanent,” which in turn implies they’re going to let him continue with the case. He can’t even hear what Greeves has to say, he’s so stunned and it isn’t until he hears his phone ringing that he realizes the press conference is over.

“Marshall, here,” he answers, not bothering to look at the caller id.

“Dad?”

Walter takes a deep breath before he answers. “Yeah, baby. It’s me.”

“Are you okay? Why aren’t you on the case right now? Did you get hurt at the scene?” Faye’s panic is audible and her questions are coming a mile a minute giving Walter no time to answer. He has to calm her down.

“Faye, listen to me. I’ve answered the phone. I’m alright.” He waits for her to stop. “I’m not on the case because I’m with the victim right now. I need to find her family and get her some medical help. But I’m fine, Do you hear me?”

“Yeah.” He can tell she’s relaxing, taking deeper breaths, thinking of her next words. “I was so worried, Dad. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no! No Faye, sweetheart, you don’t need to apologize. I’m sorry you were frightened. I never want that for you.”

“I love you, Dad. Mom wants to talk to you, okay?” Faye asks.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Good night, Faye.”

“Oh, wait! Dad? Do you want to skip Sunday?”

Walter has to take a moment. Has it really been less than a week? Is he really just coming up on a breakfast date with Faye? 

“Can I let you know tomorrow?”

“Of course. Night Dad.”

Angie gets on the line and checks in with Walter too. Same basic questions. Just wants to know he’s alright. She doesn’t ask why he’s with a victim right now. He isn’t sure if he cares why she hasn’t.

Rachel calls almost immediately after he hangs up with his ex. 

“Which one?” he thinks sardonically to himself.

“The neighbor, Mrs. Travers had a number. We’ve made contact with the family and someone will be there in the morning. You gonna stay until then? You need me to bring you anything?”

“Maybe a change of clothes? There should be something in my locker.”

Three days later

“She’s awake,” Drew calls to Walter with cautious optimism, returning to the family lounge.

Walter stands up from his chair and steps forward to speak with Alex’s brother. He saw the commotion outside her room when he stopped by for one of his regular visits, so he set up shop in the lounge while the staff tended to her and shared results with Drew. He wants to grip him in a bear hug but thinks maybe it’s still too soon, too familiar. He hasn’t exactly been forthcoming about the nature of his relationship to Alex, not that he can’t see the wheels spinning in Drew’s head. But he really thinks it ought to be up to Alex to define it for him. So he extends a hand instead.

“That’s great, man. Is she...is she aware?” Walter drops the handshake and crosses his arms, putting up the armor subconsciously.

“She wants to talk to you,” Drew says.

“She’s talking?” Walter asks with surprise.

“Well, no. Not exactly. You’ll need this.” Drew hands Walter a tablet with a messaging app open and he sees the last chat is “Walter?”

He doesn’t waste anymore time. He skids into the room and drops to the side of her bed, careful to grab her hand and not her face the way he wants. He presses her palm to his lips and closes his eyes for a second while he heaves with relief. He almost doesn’t care she can probably see the tears forming, but he wipes them away anyway and gives her a cautious smile.

“Alex,” he calls, unsure how else to begin.

She gently pulls her hand from his grip and points at the tablet. Walter hands it to her and watches as she begins to tap out a new message.

“You're here.”

“Of course, I am. God Alex, I’m so sorry this happened to you,” Walter apologizes.

“Not your fault. No way. He’s dead?”

‘Yes.” Walter watches her eyes close as she breathes a sigh through her nose. Only then does he realize her jaw is still completely shut and the bandages aren’t just for show. “How are you?”

“Tired. Sore. Angry. Confused. Any and all of the above?”

Walter laughs with relief because he can absolutely read the tone of her texts and he can tell she still has all the self-assured personality he discovered and admired about her in their short time together.

“Yeah, to be expected I suspect. Did they tell you everything that happened to you?”

“Not the part where I was kidnapped and beaten to within a few inches of my life, cause I think I figured that one out on my own. But yeah,” she types.

“I never knew they could induce a coma to counter the effects of physical trauma. That’s some sci-fi shit right there if I ever heard it.”

“They said it was maybe the only thing that saved my brain.”

Walter takes a deep breath and tries not to scrunch his face in anguish but Alex pulls the tablet back before he can reply.

“They said it was a gamble and my outcome is the best possible one. Minor memory loss, but mostly so I don’t recall exactly how many times that asshole hit me. And for some reason I can’t recall anything more than one night with you.”

Walter isn’t sure if she’s serious, but when he looks up from the tablet he thinks he sees a twinkle in her eyes.

“Well that would be because we did only have one night together,” he smiles, then furrows his brow and lowers his voice to a dare-to-hope whisper. “Were you wishing for more?”

She nods as enthusiastically as she can without setting off the pain receptors and Walter closes his eyes with relief again.

“Good. That’s really good. Me too, if I wasn’t clear, but just to be clear. Me too.”

They spend the next half hour hashing out some details of her ordeal. He tells her it was apparent from the wounds inflicted on Jonas that she fought back like a hellcat and how proud he is of her. She asks if he really was a cop and Walter has to admit he somehow didn’t see that one coming. They puzzle over the unsigned card that only says “I’m sorry” on a vase of flowers she’s been sent.

“They’re lilacs, right?” he asks, because other than apology roses, he’s never really taken the opportunity to gift flowers to a woman, so he isn’t quite up on all the varieties. He also isn’t quite sure why he hasn’t sent her the biggest get well bouquet he can find, but thinks it probably has to do with how much he was willing or not willing to share their relationship, if he could call it that, with her brother while she was out. But he knows he wants to remedy that with Alex soon. 

When she nods, he hazards a guess. “Could be from Lila.”

“???”

He considers how to approach it and chooses directness. 

“She was Jonas’ girlfriend.”

“That monster had a girlfriend???”

“Somehow, yeah. Real shy one, not sure how she built up the courage to bring us the evidence, except I think she didn’t really think it was his. I think she somehow thought it had either been hidden in their apartment before they moved in, or perhaps elves did it. Don’t really know. But she was a big help in finding you, I can tell you that much.”

Then she asks the question he has been dreading and really doesn’t want to answer, even though it’s over. He just can’t fathom how it all slipped through the cracks and he isn’t sure he wants to talk about it with her. But she asks.

“Was it just Trixie and me?”

Deep breath.

“No. He’d been roughing up women for about three months. At least we tied him to this recent spate of assaults for sure. ” He waits as she nods slowly, the realization sinking in that she likely knew others who were also part of this nightmare. “And he’d been killing for longer than that. That bus he took you to? He apparently liked to keep his victims there. He’d shave off their fingertips for a souvenir. Sometimes keep a piece of jewelry. But then he’d stash their bodies on the bus like he was going to drive them all to prom or something.”

Alex’s eyes are wide and she just shakes her head slowly for a moment.

“There’s more. We’re still looking at all the angles, and I’m just going to trust you won’t be speaking to reporters about this, okay?” he asks with a semi-severe look. When she points to her face, he chuckles a ‘Yeah’ and then gets serious. “Some of the bodies were pretty old. Older than would make sense to be included in his list of victims. We still have DNA testing and matching to complete, but forensics thinks at least one body, that of the “driver” if you will, was a male.”

Alex leaves her eyes wide and tries to plead for more info.

“We’ve got nothing solid to go on at the moment, but his father did disappear some time ago.”

“Holy shit.”

Their reunion is interrupted as a nurse enters the room to gather vitals and offer up the dose of pain medicine prescribed by the doctor when she finally woke up. 

Walter reads off the “don’t need it” chat from the tablet and the nurse insists.

“For one, we want to stay ahead of the pain in these first few days while you’re still recovering and are under close supervision. And for two, this is gonna knock you out so you can keep getting the rest you need to fully recuperate. You think laying around in bed being waited on hand and foot is a cush job? You’ve got hard work ahead of you.”

Walter chuckles at the comment and turns to Alex. 

“She’s right. I should let you sleep.”

He barely gets the two sentences out before she’s tapping away at the tablet again.

“You’ll come back though, right?”

He can’t believe she feels like she even needs to ask, but he replies with his heart wide open, “Yeah, yeah. Of course! I’ve gotta get back to the precinct, but I’ll be back this evening and I’ll stay as long as they let me.”

“Good. I wanna introduce you to Drew. Properly.”

Two weeks later

“Is that my car?” Alex taps out on her phone as Walter pulls into the parking lot of her apartment building. She’s passed all the tests the hospital deemed necessary before they would release her, and while her head is still a mess of wires and bandages, the rest of her is operating just fine. He still wants to carry her, protect her, but she won’t let him, opening the door and climbing down from the cab of the truck as soon as she hands him the phone to read.

He growls and hops out as quickly as he can once he realizes what she’s done, grabbing her bag from the back seat and meeting her around the front of the truck. He passes her the phone then gently takes her elbow to remind her he’s there whenever she needs him.

“Yeah, Sy finished it up and dropped it off for you.”

She leans her shoulder into his chest in a silent thanks as they enter the building and wait for the elevator. Walter won’t let her climb the stairs and she is almost grateful except it’s one more reminder that she isn’t fully self-sufficient yet, and probably won’t be for a while. 

She starts physical therapy soon to help with the dizziness and balance issues she’s been having as a result of the concussion. Walking up and down a hallway a few times to escape the hospital was one thing. Three flights of stairs isn’t happening.

Mrs. Travers is waiting at her door when they step out of the elevator, hands clasped in gratitude that Alex is back.

“Oh honey! I’m so glad you are home. I made you some cookies and gave them to that nice young man staying in your apartment.”

On cue, Drew opens the door.

“There he is now. Did you save Alex some cookies, young man?”

“I put them in the freezer for when she can chew again, if that’s okay?” Drew answers patiently.

“Well, yes. Of course. Or I can just make more I suppose.” She turns to Walter. “Now, you just watch yourself, you. I don’t want you getting Alex into any more trouble.”

Walter takes a deep breath because he knows from his conversations with Alex that Mrs. Travers has a bit of a faulty memory and there is no need to try to explain to her that it wasn’t his fault Alex wound up in her predicament, no matter how he still feels about it. Alex won’t let him take any blame.

“Of course not, ma’am. We’re keeping her safe and sound here for you. Cross my heart.”

“Very good.” With that she steps into her apartment while Walter and Alex enter across the hall and everyone but Alex says see you soon while the doors close.

Walter settles Alex on the couch while Drew offers her a glass of water with a long straw. He and Walter talk a bit about the discharge and recovery schedule, with Alex typing notes and comments every now and then.

“Alright, well. I’ll get out of your hair and over to the hotel. I’ll be back tomorrow, Alex. Okay?” Drew waits for her to tap out ok and i love you and thnx for everything before he turns to grab his own overnight bag and leaves.

She turns the phone toward Walter when he comes back from seeing Drew out and shows him the next message.

“Need a bath badly. A real one. Those sponge baths were for shit.”

“On it.”

Walter gets the water running at the right temperature, then returns to the living room to lead Alex into the bathroom. 

She can’t type while he’s undressing her and helping her into the tub, sinking as far into the warm water as she can without getting the head bandages wet. Can’t type while he’s soaking a washcloth and lathering it up, rubbing it along her legs, her arms, her torso, her back when she leans forward at his urging. Can’t type when he dips the cloth into the water to rinse off the soap, then holds it over her body and squeezes to let the water wash the suds away. Definitely can’t type when he “drops” the cloth between her legs and plunges his arm in after it.

Walter can see the way her eyes light up as he pretends to feel around for the washcloth with his fingers nudging her folds gently. He gives a little smirk and eyebrow raise in question, to which Alex sighs and nods and closes her eyes.

Walter would think the water would wash away any natural moisture, but she’s slick and ready for him when he finally slides a finger inside her while he gently presses her chest with his free hand so she settles against the back of the tub. He drags his hand over a breast, rolling the nipple, gently pinching, squeezing a little harder when she arches into it.

He’s also pressed another finger inside her and he swallows hard, relishing the feel of her soft, warm center and all its nooks and crannies. He closes his eyes with a wish that he could put his mouth on hers while he works to make her feel as good as he can under the circumstances.

Walter opens his eyes when he feels her hand on his cheek and the droplets of water dripping from her arm that fall on his neck. Alex’s eyes are soft and pleading, needy even, fluttering closed each time he brushes against her spot, teasing her and drawing out the pleasure.

He leans toward her and whispers with a low growl, “I’m gonna make you come with my fingers and then I’m gonna get you out of this tub and into your bed and I’m gonna do the same thing with my mouth.”

The way she whimpers “mmhm” finishes the job of getting him hard, but he barely cares how he’s gonna get off. He only wants to see her glowing for him. It’s all he cares about right now.

Her breath is hitching and her moans are as loud as they can be through closed lips and he watches her close her eyes while he stretches his fingers deep inside her, twisting and curling and caressing her spongy center while his thumb rubs against her sensitive clit. He can feel Alex clench around his fingers, feel her core temperature rise ever so slightly when the waves of her pleasure start to take over. Walter barely registers the splashes of water that have hit the floor and his jeans.

When she comes down, he helps her up. Opens the drain and grabs a fluffy towel from the bar, wrapping her in it and his arms. He helps her step out of the tub, aware that she’s more lightheaded than usual and grateful she realizes it, too. She would normally be protesting his assistance, but her moans right now are all residual rapture. He can’t wait to hear more.

She lets him lift her, her knees and back cradled into his arms as he carries her into the bedroom and gently deposits her on the bed. Walter pulls his shirt off and is about to unbutton his jeans when she covers his hands with hers and moves him out of her way.

Alex keeps her eyes trained on him while she pops the button and drags the zipper down slowly, easing it over his solid bulk. She watches the relief wash over him when the warmth of her palm finds its way into his briefs and around the flesh of his cock. She is pleased he’s letting her stroke him like this.

Walter fights the urge to close his eyes and relish her touch but he wants to watch. She squeezes him just right, but her hand isn’t sliding as easily as he’d like so he grabs her wrist and pulls her palm to his mouth quickly before she can even begin to think he wants her to stop.

He tongues her hand, a little like he wants to do to her pussy, leaving a swath of spit she now realizes she can use to keep jerking him off. He just shakes his head slowly at the way he lucked into this woman who wants him so badly.

He doesn’t want to come before he gets her one more time, so he peels her hand away again and eases her back before kicking off his shoes and pushing his pants all the way down. He steps out of them as he climbs onto the bed and positions himself between her legs. Walter watches as Alex drapes her hands over her chest and drags one hand down as if to show him where he needs to be.

He catches her fingers with his tongue and gladly lets her rub her own pearl while he laps at her open sex. Every now and then he nudges her fingers with his nose and moves her out of the way so he can suck her clit and press the tip of his tongue against her. When he does, Alex pushes her own fingers deep inside and pumps slowly while she waits for him to drag his tongue back down into her pussy.

When she comes her knees clamp hard around his head and he holds them in place, savoring every drop and scooping some of her essence onto his fingers so he can reach down between his belly and the sheets and finish himself off while she finally comes back down.

He’s memorized the recovery schedule the doctor provided and he can’t wait to make up all the kisses they’re missing when it's safe but in the meantime, he’s gonna be content to crawl up next to her and wrap her in his arms and fall asleep in a post-orgasmic daze. He’ll let her chat how fucked out she feels tomorrow.

Taglist: (If you asked for a tag and it’s not here, Tumblr likely isn’t letting me tag you. Ask if you want me to try again.)

Chapter 9

Anything: @kittenofdoomage @fvckinghenrycavill @mayloma @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @beck07990  @itsrubberbisquit​ (Also throwing in a few from the old days for old times sake ;) @littlegreenplasticsoldier​ @anotherwinchesterfangirl​ @sebbytrash​ @feelmyroarrrr​)

NM: @enchantedbytomandhenry​ @kingliam2019​ @henryownsme​ @littlefreya​  @marantha​ @angelcavill66​ @sweetdreamsofgelato​ @jeremyrennermakesmesmile​ @liveoncoffeeandflowersss​ @greensleeves888​ @dinoswierdmom​ @geralts-yenn​ @wabi-sabi1090​ @bourbonwithice​ (@used-to-be-bourbonwithice @identity2212 these don’t work for me, sorry!)

[quatregats]

I wanna know about the curious letter! (Also more about get sick idiots. Always more astolat retrovirus)

The Curious Letter is my Aubreyad/Hornblower crossover in which Stephen Maturin does top surgery on Hornblower! I've posted snippets of it here before, but I will post another snippet (it's taking ages because I'm being a perfectionist about it but I think it's also one of the fics I'm most pleased with):

“Very good—you must do as you see fit,” Hornblower replied, looking slightly pale. “Only as long as you think it can be done.” “It can be done,” Stephen agreed, standing up. “It is still largely an experimental procedure—I make no guarantees of anything. But the principle of the thing has overall been successful, which is enough of an assurance for most.” “How many times have you done it?” Hornblower asked, pulling on his threadbare jacket and crossing his arms over his chest in a hunched posture Stephen knew well. “Oh, perhaps nine or ten—I have not kept close records, and besides, a great number of them were some years ago. Joseph’s was the most recent.” “And all of them have succeeded?” “Some more than others. But I have not mangled anyone beyond recognition, nor lost a patient to the gangrene, which is the most that can be said. I have done no long-term studies of the effects, but the Dear knows that I have kept well enough. And so, if you say, has Joseph.” “Indeed.” “So will you go through with it, then?” Hornblower made a hmmphing sound. “Yes, it’ll do.” “Good. Then I will come to your lodgings tomorrow morning. Make sure you wrap up all your business today—you will not be leaving your room for the next week. Good day to you, Mr. Hornblower.” And with that, for all that Hornblower seemed that he had an objection to raise, he allowed himself to be escorted out the door without further comment.

And here is the opening to Get Sick Idiots <3 (aka This Is How Horatio And Maria Can Still Win):

“I’m to go to London right away,” Horatio said, setting the letter down on the dining table along with the letter opener which he had forgotten to put down in his haste to read it; the moment he had seen the Admiralty’s seal he had entirely forgotten about breakfast, and the steaming cup of tea and plate of fresh eggs and sausage were sitting sadly abandoned in front of him. “They have found me a ship.” “Surely they will give you a week or two of leniency, my love?” Maria said from across the table, her hands busy darning one of his old stockings. “They are saying London will be in quarantine in a day or two—Lizzie told me just as much yesterday while we were waiting in line at the butcher’s.” Horatio folded the letter carefully on the table, then shook his head. “No. The Navy does not wait on our pleasures, and if I do not go they will certainly give the ship to another captain. You know how hard it is to get a ship; I cannot pass up the opportunity.” “Can you not write them?” “I must go present myself to the Lord of the Admiralty himself—something about the nature of the appointment.” He unfolded the letter again, seemingly unaware, and refolded it without looking at it. “So I must go to London, and it cannot wait.”

[cas-coding]

"don't get your panties in a twist, darlin'," bobby says, rolling his eyes at whatever dumbass thing dean has just said, and dean knows he doesn't mean it like that, he knows, but everyone he's met means it like that, and sometimes he thinks sam means it like that, and it's not fair.

it's not fair those words carry more meaning to him than they do to anyone else.

sam must see it on his face, then, because he's shooting a look that shuts bobby right up, slapping a hand on dean's shoulder. "hey," sam says, his voice tiptoeing on sympathetic, "we should prep more salt shells for it either way. get out of bobby's hair while he figures out what we're gonna eat, yeah?"

dean hates that he just nods along, numb to it all. he can't change anything; he's already changed enough about himself, and he's sure as hell not going back, so what way is there to make them more comfortable with him?

he's not the type to beg for some doctor to give him testosterone, the reliance would only make it worse, make it harder for him to get his job done. he'd thought about the surgery, but the recovery time is several weeks, several weeks of people dying because he was selfish enough to fix something that most people don't even think is wrong with him.

the basement door creaks open and sam's footsteps sound out in front of him, jolting dean back to the reality where he's supposed to be helping sammy instead of getting lost in his own head.

"you alright?" sam asks, looking up at dean's figure at the top of the stairs, tilting his head just a bit, like he'll be able to read dean's thoughts.

dean sighs and clomps down the wooden stairs, each creaking under his weight. "would you even be askin' if i was born with a dick?" he shoots back, shoving past sam at the bottom of the staircase, his anger bubbling up inside him.

"woah," sam laughs, trying to take the weight out of it. "you know you're my brother, i'm just worried about you, dean. you went all freaky quiet up there."

"yeah, well, next time one of you decide it's funny to make a joke about the fact that i wasn't born 'your brother', i'm going to fucking shoot myself, so cut it the fuck out."

it takes dean a moment to realize what he's said, the basement falling gravely quiet around them. he shouldn't joke about it, shouldn't think it's funny that he carries around a gun for himself, banking on its final blood being that of its owner. a couple times, he'd toyed with the ideas, loaded and unloaded it until his hands cramped, deciding he was too tired to pull the trigger.

"dean," sam whispers, and there's that pity, that sinking, deep pity, the thing dean had been avoiding. "i'm sorry. we don't think about it sometimes. it's not because you're trans, honest to whatever god is out there. bobby sees you as his son as much as he sees me as his son, promise, and he probably doesn't even realize that's more offensive to you than me. i can talk to him?" sam offers, shrugging.

"no, don't."

"what do you want me to do then?" sam fires back, instantly taking a step back. "fuck, i'm sorry. i just, shit, you don't get it, do you? we really don't give a shit that your voice isn't all deep or whatever, and we really don't give a shit that your chest isn't completely flat. you're the one who's making all this up, writing this narrative that we hate you for it, all in your own head. we love you, dean, and we don't give a shit that you weren't born with that name. honest."

and in that moment, it doesn't matter; no matter what dean is, he's just glad he's got a body to hug his brother with.

[contentment-of-cats]

ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(￣ー￣)┘ ε=┌(;･_･)┘

For Admiral-Aralami

So many people want Ba'kif to apply whoop-ass to Thrawn after the Ba'kif/Pyrondi. Unfortunately, my upcoming surgery tomorrow has interfered with my writing brain, but I wanted to leave this WiP bit with you before I go.

For @admiral-arelami and everyone who wants to see Thrawn (eventually) get what's coming from Ba'kif.

Behold.

It's something, all right.

Eli did in fact know what Thrawn was planning to get Ba'kif moving. Yana didn't and everything hinged on her not knowing. While the strategy was successful, Ba'kif's promise to 'give hands' to Thrawn remains on the table, and true to his vow once Ba'kif gets out of that climate room, he goes hunting for the 'impudent little bastard.' As Eli says, there's a can of whoop-ass with Thrawn's name on it, and their Grand Admiral does everything possible to avoid the serving. This includes keeping carefully calculated distances between the two of them, and if distance isn't possible large items of furniture suffice.

"Your heart belongs to your Humans. Your soul belongs to the Ascendancy. Your ass belongs to me and I am going to pound it like a Sun's Day drum when I get my hands on you."

Ba'kif moves fast for a man his age.

Thrawn is twenty years younger.

It's like living with a pair of pusheen. There are ambushes, evasions, glaring across rooms, growled threats and hissed responses.

"And a certain amount of sexual tension," Eli posits and Yana agrees with his thesis.

There's also a certain amount of tension around Yana. It would honestly be yummy to see the Pillow Princess as the filling in a Yana sandwich. Yissa has a kink for watching her wyf with males and celebrated forward motion with Ba'kif by screwing the living daylights out of Eli's ass. Thrawn can be said to have sulked a little; Ilyana is his Ilyana and Eli is his Eli. Because of Thrawn's history, he does not like to have his people out of line of sight. On the other hand, Yissa is First Wyf to Ilyana and therefore the boss of absolutely everyone in the familial sphere the way Thrawn is the absolute boss of the Seventh and Ba'kif of the Stybla. When you are combining three families, there are going to be bumps.

It's when Ba'kif literally chases Thrawn up a tree that Ilyana decides that something must be done and speaks extensively with Ar'alani. Eli is not for the plan, but not against it, and while it is the simplest tactic it is perhaps not the smartest. Nonetheless, Yana is a pragmatist and what works works. Moreover, the two are so focused on one another - Ba'kif on giving hands and Thrawn on evading hands - that neither will see it coming. Both Eli and Yana agree that they can handle the aftermath. Ar'alani has one issue to point out.

"You are both tiny Humans." Both of them can walk under her outstretched arm without brushing it with the top of their head. "In this, I will have to play a part."

"You're smiling," Yana points out. Chiss do not show their teeth - if they do, it's NOT a smile. The curve of Ar'alani's smile deepens. "You already have a plan."

"I do. How fast can you run, now that you are mostly healed?"

"Fast enough."

Eli is concerned.

"Do not fear, Eli Vanto." A pat to Pyrondi's shoulder. "All will be well."

~

Ba'kif vents and Ar'alani listens.

It's been many years, and the liberties Ba'kif would not take with a younger Thrawn are still there - firmly put out of reach by Ba'kif himself. Ar'alani is not sure if Thrawn feels the same tension, but her friend has blind spots one could throw his flagship through.

The garden rooms of the Chimaera Nest are lovely. ISDs often transported supplies for new colonies and the surviving cargoes went to make a more homelike 'home' for the displaced humans. Eli and Ilyana have lured Thrawn, and if all goes well...

"It doesn't help that you threatened to beat his ass like a Sun's Day drum."

A growl is her answer. They exit the more temperate rooms and walk down the corridor to a room imitating a boreal coast. Ilyana and Eli wave to them, pausing at the entry. Greetings are exchanged and an eyeroll. Thrawn has ducked into the room as they knew he would, and Ilyana and Eli are innocent. Ba'kif turns, back to the door and facing her, Ilyana and Eli drop, arms bracing one another. Once good shove and over - and through - Ba'kif goes. The hatch slams and locks.

Their comlinks chime seconds later.

"My young friends and Ar'alani.' The nerve. "So deep. So very, very deep. We will discuss."

~

Ba'kif lands on his back.

There will be a reckoning.

[boredwritergirl]

Day 2 - Deafening Shriek

Hi everyone, this is Day 2 of write a short story everyday for a month challenge. I'm having a good time writing so far, but i must warn that this story tackles a pretty heavy subject. So if it's too much for you, then I hope to see you again next time when I have something more lighthearted to share.

Trigger Warning: Transphobia

Deafening Shriek

She wasn’t ready for this, and she couldn’t even comprehend how true that was. Rosa held her girlfriend, Stacy’s hand as they both stood at the door. Just being in front of Stacy’s house was enough to make Rosa’s heart collide with her chest in a futile effort to escape. Rosa Gulped and took a deep breath, trying to stop the shakes she was having from the thought of meeting Stacy’s parents for the first time.

This wasn’t like her ex-girlfriends, Stacy’s dad had a notorious meltdown after learning his daughter was trans. Stacy told her that he had destroyed most of her girl clothes when she first came out, her father insisting that Stacy “Be a man and stop crying!” But this was all well before Rosa had even met her.

I can’t believe she still has to live with this asshole. Rosa Thought. I don’t care how much Stacy says her dad got better, he better not explode and act like a maniac.

As the door opened, Rosa focused on Stacy, on how the interior light flooded her pale face, the black tips of her blonde hair fading into the darkness of night behind her. But the light over her was quickly enveloped by the shadow of the old, fat man in the doorframe.

Ronald’s eyes were wandering, studying every inch of Rosa like she was a science experiment, his glossy gaze making her take a step back. His wife, Susan stepped out in front of him and welcomed the girls inside. 

“Please, please, come in!” Susan cried. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”

Ronald scoffed, “So, you’re real after all.” He then gave Stacy a pat on the back that’s noticeably too firm. “Good on you pipsqueak. And here I thought a woman wouldn’t want ya.” He then unleashed a grotesque burp that reeked of whiskey. 

Rosa reluctantly said, “It’s a Pleasure to meet you both. Stacy talks a lot about you.” her voice warbled as she spoke, biting her lip so as to not make a face.

They continued to speak as Susan escorted them to the dining room, where she had just laid out a freshly prepared roast beef, baked potatoes with sauteed onions and homemade garlic bread topped with broccoli rabe. 

The meal went swimmingly at first, Ronald kept his mouth shut while Susan spoke to Rosa and Stacy about starting their final year at university. 

But then, Stacy said, “I’m not sure I can do both semesters this year. Someone needs to stay here and take care of you after your surgery.”

Susan brushes her off, “Oh, nonsense. I can handle myself.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear anything about you having a surgery” Rosa said, her tone soft and slow, her eyes focused on Susan as if she were having the surgery at this very moment.

Susan smiled, “Oh, It’s nothing, really. I just need to wear a catheter after I’m done. The doctor told me that after the surgery, I’ll have to wear it along my leg. I asked him if I should wear a sundress and then he just started laughing.” She herself began laughing retelling these events. “He told me, You know, after all these years, no one has asked me that, not a one. But, It’s a good question. You certainly don’t want to wear those pants, or else everyone would think you’re a man!” Ronald joined in on her laughter, but of course the girls stayed silent.

Stacy was looking down on her lap, using her hands to tug on her skirt a bit, clearly embarrassed by her parents. Rosa, on the other hand, was fuming, but she tried to contain herself. What jerks! Rosa thought. They seriously think they can talk like that in front of their trans daughter! The sheer fucking audacity of them!

Ronald picked up on this and sneered, “Hey, what’s your problem? My wife just told a funny story.”

“There’s nothing funny about it!” Rosa Barked. “Don’t you see how this is making your daughter feel?”

Ronald drunkenly unleashed his sarcasm, “If it bothers Stacy So much, then he’s welcome to man up and do something about it!”

Rosa rose from her seat, her fists clenched by her side as her swift motion sent the chair banging against the wall behind her. “What’s your problem!? You know that you’re hurting your daughter and you’re not doing anything to change!? Do you even feel remorse?”

Ronald also rose from his chair, raising his voice to be as loud and booming as the fat man could muster. “What’s my problem?! What’s your problem?! No one is complaining! No one but you, you savior complex psycho!”

Rosa grimaced at him. “Just because people don’t complain, that doesn’t mean that they feel safe enough to express it!”

“Safe?! You think a man can’t keep his family safe!?”

“You’re the one they need to be safe from!”

“I didn’t invite you here just to be lectured by some dumb college kid!”

“Well, maybe if you went to college, you’d learn to treat the people around you better!”

“No, it wouldn’t! It’d just turn me into a constantly angry bitch just like… like…” Ronald began to grab at his chest, his posture losing the angered determination and replaced with an uneasy wooziness. “Like…”

Susan and Stacy both stared at Ronald like they knew a train was about to crash and they desperately wanted the other to stop it, but Rosa, still filled with vigor, was going to continue to berate Ronald until she recognized what was happening, stopping herself before Ronald collapsed onto the floor, his head hitting the table on the way down.

Susan ranted like a scream queen, rushing over to her husband to check on him. Stacy just sat in her chair, her hands shaking like crazy as she reached out to them, “D-Dad…”

With rivers flowing down her eyes, Susan turned back at Rosa and shrieked, “What are you waiting for?! Call the ambulance!”

Rosa did just that. The dinner came to an abrupt end as Ronald had a heart attack. Luckily for him, the ambulance didn’t take long to arrive and they carried him all the way to the hospital.

Later that night, Stacy sat outside Ronald’s hospital room, with Rosa there, not having said a single word since she called the hospital.

When Rosa finally tried to speak, she was interrupted by Stacy, “Just… Just stop. Don't you think you’ve said enough?”

Rosa softly said, “I’m sorry, I was just standing up for you.”

Stacy bitterly said, “I Don’t need saving. I know how they are, and I’m saving up so that I can move out, but that doesn’t mean I want him dead, Rosa.”

Rosa held her hand, “I’m sorry. But you can’t just let them walk all over you either. Maybe we can find a way to compromise with them.”

Stacy sighs, “I don’t know… I need to think things over”

Stacy forced her hand away from Rosa’s and walked off towards the bathroom. Rosa tried to follow her into the women’s room, but Stacy said, “Please, Rosa. I just need some time alone. I’ve had enough of people neglecting my feelings for one night. So , If you want this relationship to work, then go home and we can talk about how we can express our feelings better, ok?”

Rosa’s tears lightly flowed down her face, she didn’t say a word as she simply nodded, a simple gesture to show that she respected her girlfriend’s feelings and boundaries. She turned back and went home, eagerly awaiting for Stacy to call her back.

[transgendertips]

Hi, I don't know if you're able to help me but I have top surgery in 2 months and I've heard that you should exercise before the surgery. I haven't really exercised because of my dysphoria and depression, and I'm now feeling very anxious about it... I'm scared my results will look bad because of not exercising and building muscle before the surgery. I am fairly healthy and thin but I definitely don't have much muscles - which doesn't really bother me. I'm just scared I have ruined my top surgery :(

So for exercise tips I’m prob not the best person to go to BUT—

Let’s look at a few things about this:

Post op, the things I have heard from MANY people is that it is incredibly important to do small stretches and massage the areas you’ve been operated on + the surrounding area in order to keep up/rebuild your range of movement. So it looks like some of the most important things are to rebuild range of movement in the arms/shoulders and to prevent muscular atrophy in the chest/shoulders/arms.

Pre op, depending on type of top surgery prep is going to look different, but since you mention muscles I’m going to assume it’s within the mastectomy category which can be varied in a lot of ways. Your insurance may require you to be on HRT for 18+ months without a single missed dose, your dr may or may not recommend HRT or exercise, and many drs have had many patients who didn’t have exceptional chest muscles, so you’re more than likely going to be FINE. More than fine. However many drs have said having SOME build up of muscle makes it EASIER for them to reconstruct the area in the later stages of surgery and many people who get mastectomies will say it’s easier to hide certain scars (if that’s what you wish to do) if there’s a build up of some muscle.

I also try doing the exercise thing and between time, fatigue, disability, it’s a pain in the ass, let me tell you.

Maybe the best thing is for you to combine something easy and simple with something else. For example, if you watch a lot of TV, you can add some simple stretches to that to increase mobility and to set a routine for yourself. I think the absolute hardest thing about exercise is the routine part.

You have most definitely not ruined your chances of top surgery, so try not to think too much about that.

I’m going to drop some links, as a disclaimer I haven’t gone through all of them but here they are:

TikTok Tony is a Top Surgery Dr he’s great:

This one is just about a book btw

And when I tried finding something about exercising with depression this was the only thing that fit what I was looking for

If top surgery is something you want/need, you’ve prob already done some research on it, so I say def go back to that as well and look to see what others have done. There’s plethora of guides and testimonials nowadays. Try not to be so hard on yourself too.

EDIT: totally missed the part where you said you had top surgery in two months 😭 omg that’s so great 😭 congrats!!!!🎈🍾🎉🎊 if your team has resources for therapy to deal with the stress of surgery etc I do recommend checking that out though. Follow your surgeons directions, do your stretches and massages, and do your best to take care of yourself and get plenty of rest 💕

[holmsister]

Skip to like. Three weeks later. Both Kabru and Laios have stopped showing up online for a while. The rumor mill is WILD. Both of their reddits have been overcome with this bullshit for a bit so mods have agreed to make a r/KabruLaios (name picked based on alphabetical order, speculation on who tops is bannable!) And that place is fucking RUNNING. Front page of reddit for days in a row. Especially because Kabru has NEVER been so long away from sm. He's irregular in his posting but he's never skipped posting entirely for more than like 2 days. Even when he got his top surgery he was posting from the hospital bed the day of.

So one day about two weeks in Kabru announces a special Let's Have A Kiki stream on his tumblr a week from there and his fans are like HOLY SHIT. Laios announces a special q&a livestream at the exact same time. You must know that while Kabru has been irregularly but semi-frequently doing his silly streams (hes an open book!) Laios has NEVER done a q&a. He kept saying he would do one but then he was always like why would anybody want to know anything about me I'm boring. So his fans are like HOLY SHIT too.

And then radio silence again until the day of.

And the day of the two of them appear on screen and it's THE SAME STREAM on both of their channels. Theyre sitting at Laios' usual livestream desk but the background is different again. Laios is like intensely red and is obviously fighting the instinct to hide but Kabru looks like he is on drugs literally no one has ever seen him giggle like that he's adorable.

Basically it turns out that Falin was waiting for Laios' to find a new roommate in order to move in with Marci. And since Laios' new roommate (Kabru) sleeps in Laios' room (Kabru's grin is HUGE) they are turning Falin's former room into a mini recording studio. They have put together their video equipment and are jn the process of selling doubles to buy some more equipment and finish making the room but in the meantime ta-dah!!!!

Kabru specifies that this is a one time thing to make sure people stop making up shit about them on the internet. And then they go on with what is in the end a pretty regular q&a about mostly Laios and also a few questions about how Kabru feels about dungeon video games and Laios' passion for them etc. And then in the end Kabru is like. ALSO Laios. Do you still wanna do it? And Laios is like well. I do want to show it off. But people please don't make it weird! And he takes off his shirt and shows off his super cool tattoo and he gives bits and pieces of lore - he's clearly super excited about giving more but hes shy. Both chats are like HOLY SHIT. Laios is like I didn't think people would care about that! And kabru is like I told you.

And that's pretty much how it ends. From that moment on they only show up occasionalky like. Laios bringing Kabru Rin and Marcella a new pitcher of margarita and snacks during Kabrus Kiki livestreams (Marcella becomes a frequent guests) and everyone in chat is like. LAIOS 🐺🐺🐺🐺 HEY ITS THE L MAN🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶 LAIOS ARE YOU COMING TO FURCON THIS YEAR🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶 LAIOS YOUR SUCH A GOOD HUSBANDO 🐺🐺🐺🐺🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

And sometimes Kabru will appear for a moment in the background of Laios' streams as he comes in and out of the room (he's out of view when he's sitting at his own desk) and people will be like KABRU ON THE MOVEEEEE😍😍😍😍 LAIOS YOU FORGOT TO CHAIN KABRU AGAIN HES ESCAPING KABRUUU I LOVE YOUUUUU IM UR BIGGEST FANNNN KABRU🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

But like that's it on the streaming side. On the personal side Kabru still forgets his chores sometimes but it's considerably easier to pick up the slack when it's just two people and the fact that he's been eating and sleeping decently and he's no longer in need of going to record in a park at 3am has been doing wonders for his memory. He's even learned how to buy groceries at the farmers market - he's there once a week with his little cart and he's friends with everyone. He's switched from anthropology to cinema because he's decided that's what he's gonna do for a living. He's also picked up a few online teaching gigs so he doesn't have to rely on milsiril that much.

Laios is now full time employee at the grocery store. He still has enough free time to stream. The grocery store is no longer open after 10 pm because objectively no one was going there but Kabru. Kabru had to confess no gym in the area is open 24/7 but its fine hes been forgiven. It's a little bit nostalgic for Laios to close it at night but it's fine. He doesn't mind the idea of being a grocery store guy/streamer forever. His really cool tattoo is still the stuff of legend. He shows it off only on special occasions.

And that's it.

Laios works part-time at a grocery store and is a mildly successful twitch streamer and one time this really fucking hot shirtless dude wanders into frame and everyone on Laios' chat starts freaking out like WHO THE FUCK IS THAT- HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A MAN SO BEAUTIFUL YOU STARTED CRYING- LAIOS THERES A HOT DUDE THERE- and Laios is like ahahah that's my friend Kabru! He sometimes comes over after the gym to take a shower while I make him dinner! He loves my food! And everyone in chat is like LAIOS ARE YOU STUPID- LAIOS FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK- LAIOS HES AFTER ANOTHER KIND OF MEAT- and Laios is a little bit offended like. No! He's just nice! Don't be mean you'll make him uncomfortable!

And then someone recognizes Kabru like "OH SHIT I SAW HIS FOUR PARTER ON ART AND MENTAL ILLNESS IT MADE ME CRY" and they dig up his SMs and he's like. A political commentator and activist/youtuber who speaks like 9 languages and has an history degree despite being like 22 and is working towards an anthropology degree now and pays the bills by being a fucking. Fashion model and there's INSANE photoshoots of him in all sort of artsy high fashion pictures in b&w like covered in bloodied bandages in BDSM gear dressed like a priest etc etc interspersed with like very good thinkpieces on consumerism and art and politics and the very rare YouTube 4-parters on random subjects with INCREDIBLE visuals and everyone is like what the fuck. What the FUCK Laios how do you even KNOW this dude and Laios is like he kept showing up at the grocery store during my turn and asking for ideas on what to make for dinner and one guy in chat asks but aren't you usual on at nighttime and he's like yeah it was like 3am for the most part and everyone is like LAIOS PLEASE

[takeeachdayonebookatatime]

Why did you elbow me? 190

Achilles Castle part 92

Lemonade and lies PART 35

Kate: pov oh no that could kill me, i have a heart condition. The Dr asks what type I have, how long I have had it for and if anyone else in my family has one. I have arrhythmia and I have had it for about 5 years and I'm the only one in my family who does. The Dr asks what caused my heart condition, I  say as a matter of fact a bullet. The Dr asks me to repeat what I just said because she thinks she didn't hear me right. Oh no you heard me all right. I will give you a few minutes to let it sink in. By the way, I was shot at a funeral, my Captains funeral 

 

Dr Springfield: pov I'm going to need an explanation or a story for this. Kate starts out with I was a detective at the time. Well that makes sense cops are always getting shot by suspects. She gives me a little back story about what led up to her shooting. Mr Castle explains that she went into cardiac arrest in the ambulance, had a collapsed lung and needed a chest tube. She was immediately taken into emergency heart surgery. 

Castle: pov The bullet nicked her inferior pulmonary vein and left ventricle, she then went into cardiac arrest again they had to use the paddles and do manual cardiac massages she then flatlined they eventually brought her back to life,  she had severe blood loss. She spent 1 week unconscious in the CICU before waking up. She was on disability for 3 months, has a heart condition and PTSD, her immune system is also weak. 

Dr Springfield: pov I don't know what to say, that must have been hard since it was your Captain's funeral and everything that happened with him was probably still very much fresh. Kate says very much. um you said before when I mentioned the epi-pen you said that  it could kill you, is that because of your heart condition. Kate says I guess, I'm not 100 percent sure how it would affect me. Yeah, let's not take that chance. 

Kate: pov Dr Springfield suggests I take an allergy test on top of the blood one. It's the safest option for me. She would just have to swab my mouth and draw some blood then send the samples to the lab. I should know the results in a few days. It's recommended that I keep some benadryl at work or on me in case I need it and to never drive after taking it.

Castle: pov Dr Hazel Springfield grabs a swab out a cabinet to swab Kate's mouth for the test. Once that is done we are sent downstairs to the lab so she can then get her blood drawn for the blood test. Dr Springfield has notified the lab that Kate has a heart condition so that way they are prepared. After a few minutes of waiting Kate's name is called.

Lab tech Lauren: pov Dr Springfield notified us that Kate has a heart condition, that way we could monitor her more closely. After talking with them both and learning about Kate's medical history and how it all happened I get the supplies ready to draw some of Kate's blood. I decided to put a pulse ox-meter on her finger and a heart monitor just in case another lab tech is monitoring her blood pressure. Captain  Beckett which vein is better to use.

Kate: pov they are all rough i’ve had so many iv’s and blood draws that my veins are not the best. She eventually finds a good vein and draws my blood with no problems. I have to wait a few minutes to see how I feel. I can hear someone in the waiting room complaining because it's taking so long. The same person says  why does she need two lab techs. The receptionist replies to the rude person saying she has health issues and they want to take extra precautions with her. The same person replies that she doesn't look like she has health issues,  probably just doesn't like needles. He then goes on about people faking illnesses to get special treatment. I’m free to go. I decided to comfort the person about what they said. The lab tech is standing next to me, I ask who said that about me. The receptionist points to a man wearing a black shirt and jeans with a small child next to him. The man named D'Arcy looks a little bit angry. D’Arcy I understand that you were the person who said the mean thing about me but I don't think this is the example you want to set especially for this little guy sitting next to you. Because it's not cool to be mean to others you know what else isn't cool having a bullet tear through your chest and needing emergency heart surgery just to survive. I lift up my shirt to show him my thoracotomy scar. 

D’Arcy: pov I’m so sorry I had no idea that happened to you. I'm having a rough day and was angry and took it out on you which is not okay. what is your name by the way, she says Captain Kate Beckett. Oh so you're a police officer she says yes and explains as much as she can that is kid appropriate before its my sons turn. You know what I feel so horrible about the way I treated you. My son suggests that we buy her lunch but I don't know what she can have. Is it okay if I give you a 20 instead so you can get some lunch, since I don't know what you can eat. She says an apology is all she needs but thanks for the offer anyway, maybe pay for another stranger's meal instead. 

 

Castle: pov I manage to make it to the car on my crutches, before we head back to the precinct we are stopping for lunch. To be continued.  …….

[enigmakiwi]

I forgot how absolutely sick and disgusting it feels to stumble across a terf blog. I scrolled through one to block the other terfs they reblog from and it's just so vile. So much hate and lies and misconstrued info and egregious extrapolations. I'm glad I have some apparently popular terfs blocked now but looking through and reading their rhetoric has made me genuinely sick to my stomach. And sad. And angry. How could anyone think that way so... forwardly and proudly? It's beyond me.

I saw some terfs mourning the "loss of a woman" under a post where someone tacked on that the op had top surgery and transitioned, acting like there's some kind of mass campaign to make masculine women destroy themselves and erase womanhood. And they looked so happy in the post op photo they were whining over. They're happier now. How dare you drag a real person who went on their own journey into your goofy ass discourse over how penises are inherently evil and all trans people are just mentally ill idiots who are either evilly masquerading as women or ~tragically denying their inherent woman-ness~ and destroying themselves? How dare you look at the eyes of a happy trans person and say "what a fucking shame" at them? Just... how dare you?

What good do you think you're doing and why don't you celebrate the joy that trans people experience? The human joy? What kind of sick and twisted heart must you have to come to these wild and cruel conclusions you cling to like lampreys? What makes you think you're so much more important than everyone else that you get to dictate how other people live their lives? If someone merely existing is somehow a threat to you even if they've done nothing to you, that's a you problem.

I'm tired. I'm just tired of it. "Well the science says—" actually the science doesn't say that. "I have a biology/sociology/psychology/etc degree so I know what it says—" do you know? Or are you cherry picking any little bit of it you can get to support your preexisting bias even if it's so few and far between that it's functionally worthless? And even if it did say what you think it says, which it doesn't, how about prioritizing people's lives over semantics. How about supporting the people that are right here right now instead of fearmongering about the theoretical conceptual death of womankind.

Fuck terfs. You make me deeply, deeply sad.

[queen-mihai]

Things that will make you gay (according to the straights):

Willingly touching another man not related to you in ANY way other than a handshake.

Sharing a drink.

Admitting cute things are cute

Taking the time to appreciate nature

Smelling a flower

Attending a pride event

Having sex with a woman when she's on top.

Having sex with a woman who has ANY masculine features. (Guys, does your girl have shoulders wider than her hips? Sorry to tell you man, that's not your girlfriend, that's your boyfriend)

Performing cunnilingus

Having basically anything get near your butthole (To every man who has had a visit to their proctologist: congratulations! According to straight people rules, you're gay now!)

Things that will cause you to forcibly lose your "man card":

Being good at cooking (sorry chef Ramsey. You're a girl now. I don't make the rules)

Expressing any emotion other than anger, lust, and "nothing" (sorry, every therapist that has ever existed. You're all women now)

Being good at sex

Wanting a woman to enjoy sex

Having an interest in fashion

Not having an interest in sports

Taking part in household labor

I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but if you've done any of these things, even once, even by accident, you can no longer call yourself a straight man. Welcome to the LGBT

Now, here are some things, according to the straights, that DO NOT make you gay:

For men:

Having sex with a man (on top)

-"it's not gay if you're pushin'". The logic goes that if a man is horny enough, you can no longer hold against him anything he does to relieve the pressure. "Sometimes a dude just needs to get his dick wet. Hey, a hole is a hole"

Having sex with a man (as the bottom)

- hey it might not be consensual. "I mean, if it's happening anyway, no matter what I do, I might as well enjoy it"

Kissing the bros on the lips to say good night

Smacking, grabbing, squeezing, caressing, or otherwise touching your buddy on the genitals or ass; provided that 1. There is a sports game happening somewhere on earth at the time, and 2. You conclude with the words "good game"

ANYTHING, provided you either high five or say "no homo" at the end of it.

Conclusions:

"Your honor, I know we've been married for 23 years, have a house and 2 grown up children that we've raised, have held hands and attended events publicly as a couple, and made love thousands of times, but I must inform you of one very important thing: no homo. Yes your honor, that's right. No homo. Also there happens to be a soccer game on right now on the other side of the planet, so also: good game. I do believe that makes us two straight men. Thus there should be no problem for them to bake a cake for us"

If someone asks "Why are you trans?", you can answer:

Oh, I cooked my own food on the way to work. When I arrived, I was informed that one of my colleagues saw me and I was no longer a man. According to cishet rules, gender is a binary, so I immediately started taking HRT and scheduled several feminizing surgeries. Didn't have a choice. He took my man card."