#yes those are scales on his top surgery scars

[teansouprmyjam]

i've been having this wizard on the brain lately

[nothorses]

Top Surgery Journal

I figured it was time to share my top surgery experiences, so folks can potentially learn from them! I'll be updating this as I have more to add.

For context, I am in the U.S. (specifically Washington state), and a legal adult. A lot of my process may not apply to everyone.

Getting Coverage

The first step to scheduling top surgery is getting insurance coverage for it. Talk to your insurance first to figure out if they do cover top surgery, and what you need to do in order to obtain coverage. Oftentimes it won't be listed officially on your plan, but you can get coverage as long as you can prove you need it.

I was lucky enough to have good insurance with trans healthcare included, so all I needed was a letter from my PCP, and a letter from a behavioral health counselor specializing in gender dysphoria. I didn't need any diagnoses, any specific length of time on HRT, any particular presentation, etc.

(If you live in Washington, state law requires that top surgery be fully covered under Medicare. It might be worth it to check your state's laws as well!)

Referrals

I tried to schedule with a surgeon myself, thinking it was my responsibility to get the documents sent over and everything, but my PCP actually referred me when I first told her I had gotten coverage from my insurance.

I ended up going with that referral because the other surgeon was so hard to get ahold of, but my PCP did also send a referral to the surgeon I'd chosen before. I recommend going through your PCP for referrals first, as it takes a lot of the workload off of you- and they'll likely write a referral anyway when sending the documents needed for coverage over.

You may also find that the surgeon you talk to has different requirements than your insurance before performing top surgery. A referral from your PCP might bypass these requirements, but be sure to call them yourself and double-check. Your surgeon's office is supposed to call you to schedule a consultation, and they may not call you at all if you don't have all of those documents in- which means you can be left in limbo indefinitely, not knowing you need to send them more than you already did.

The Consultation

I was able to get a consultation about 5 weeks after calling, which was great! The consultation is your opportunity to ask the surgeon any questions you have, for them to evaluate your chest and what methods might work for you, and for you to see their results (most surgeons do not post result photos online for privacy reasons).

Come into the consultation with all the questions you have written down somewhere, so you don't forget. I asked:

If I could see photographs of his top surgery results

Which incisions he thought would work for me, stressing the things that were important to me: minimal recovery time, no free nipple grafts (I wanted to keep mine, but without risking a failed graft), and minimal chance of needing revisions

What my recovery would look like for the recommended incisions

Whether I will be getting drains (ideally, yes: drains reduce recovery time and the risk of needing revisions)

If he's had patients who have had complications (failed grafts, infections, need for revisions, etc.) and what he's done to reduce the chances of that happening again

My surgeon's results looked good (scars were even and symmetrical, healed nicely, etc.) and he answered my questions really well, so I was happy to go with him!

He recommended the fishmouth method for me, because recovery time would be minimal, there would be no need for nipple grafts, and my chest was small enough for it to work really well.

Scheduling the Surgery

My surgeon didn't have a very long waitlist, but it still took about 3 weeks for the clinic to process my request with my insurance (yes, even though I already had coverage). Once they'd processed that, they called me with a window of time I could schedule within; after a few months, insurance would no longer cover the surgery.

I got an extension, as I was working an intense summer job that I couldn't really take a few weeks off of to recover, then scheduled my surgery over the phone. They asked if I wanted a pre-op appointment, and I declined, as it'd mostly be information covered in the consultation or that could be given to me over the phone.

Preparing for Surgery

I wasn't given a check-in time for the hospital until about 2pm the day before, but they finally did call me and give me some instructions, including:

My check-in time and place

The hospital's phone number, to give to my ride/caretaker in case they had questions

That I was not to bring visitors (cause covid)

To bring my ID, insurance card, and credit card

That I was not to eat or drink anything after 12am that night (I did drink a bit of water with my meds, which they seemed fine with)

To shower with antibacterial soap the night before, and the morning of the surgery

Not to wear hair or skin products like deoderant or gel

Not to wear any jewelry, or anything else removable that wasn't just a clothing item.

When I checked into the hospital, they had my fill out some paperwork including the name and number of my ride and caretaker (which could be the same or separate people; they called the ride number when it was time to pick me up, and the caretaker number with detailed updates on my progress). Then they had me change into the hospital gown and answer some medical history questions, prepped me with an IV, and had a nurse, both anesthesiologists involved in my surgery, and my surgeon check in with me for more information and to answer any last questions I had.

I was told to use the bathroom about 20 minutes before I would be going under for my surgery (to avoid needing a catheter), and once I did, they injected some anesthetic into my IV and I passed the fuck out.

After Surgery

I showed up to the hospital at about 9am, and the prepping ended around 11am. The surgery was scheduled to end at 2pm; I wasn't conscious until about 3pm.

They had me use the restroom again (I passed out on the floor of the bathroom because it was way too soon, lmao), and I was in and out of sleep until I finally used the bathroom on my own at about 5pm. At that point I was a lot more lucid; I had some toast and pudding, and the nurse called my caretaker to go over post-op instructions with us both.

After that I dressed myself, was wheeled out to pick up my pain meds at the in-hospital pharmacy, then hopped in the car with my ride (the wonderful @lillia-pad) at about 5:30pm.

Recovery

I have a pretty high tolerance for anesthetic, so I was mostly just tired during the 36-ish hours the anesthetic continued to wear off. I didn't experience any nausea or lightheadedness either, but I was given an anti-nausea patch behind my left ear, plus some anti-nausea meds, just in case.

My post-op regimen sort of looks like this:

Take 1-2 tablets of oxycodone every 4 hours (for pain)

Take 2 tablets of laxative meds twice a day (cause pain meds cause constipation)

Empty drains twice per day, and record how much was in them

Get up and walk around every couple of hours to reduce the risk of blood clots

Ease into eating again: start with clear fluids, and work up to crackers/bread/etc., to avoid nausea and vomiting.

Lay down propped up on plenty of pillows, and only on your back (no side-sleeping!)

Keep the compression binder/gauze on for the first 48 hours, then remove them to shower as needed (but put them back on after!)

I was pretty lucid by the third day post-surgery, and was able to scale my pain meds down pretty quickly from 2 tabs on the first day, to 1 tab for the next two days, to 1/2 tab. Meds are much more important at night, when there's nothing to distract you from the pain- don't be afraid to ration them for nighttime.

Oxycodone also definitely causes drowsiness, so I took a lot of "oxy naps" about 45-60 minutes after I took my meds, which last between 20 minutes and 2 hours depending on how tired I am.

I have my post-op this week, so I will update this post with more details on my scars and healing then!

[haro-whumps]

Group Whumpees 3: Specter

CW: Implied past noncon, mention of suicide ideation, cigarette burn scars, modern slavery, aftermath of abuse, multiple whumpees, 

Tag List: @bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout

First

“Oh, shit, Greyson?” Galo asked as he left the bathroom, wet hair flopping around his face in disarray, sweats on and nothing else. “You forget something?”

Hm. Could’ve phrased that better, Galo thought, watching Greyson twitch. 

“It’s okay,” he said, voice going soft. He approached Greyson and sat on his haunches, forearms leaning on his knees and hands dangling limply in front of him. “What are you here for, Greyson?”

Greyson kept his eyes on the carpet and took a deep, shaky breath before stating, clearly and articulately, “My body is present and available for your service and pleasure, Master, please use me as you see fit.”

Galo bluescreened, for a moment, chicken and pasta threatening to come back up.

“You--” he started, words failing him. “That, uh.” Yep, talking still wasn’t too much of a thing. “Greyson?”

“Master.”

“Okay, so, that, makes it sound like you think I’m gonna…” Galo trailed off as his eyes wandered over Greyson’s skin. Over the scars that were now exposed. The lines up and down his back, the pockmarked circles covering his arms like ruddy scales. Galo gently pulled one of Greyson’s wrists forward, out of his own shadow, horrified and hypnotized by it.

Auntie Bethany had been a chainsmoker, once. She’d kicked the habit after her first surgery (well, been forced to kick the habit, more like). But he remembered the stench cloud that had followed her everywhere she went, the way he could tell which rooms she used more frequently than others due to how rank they were.

All up and down Greyson’s arms were tiny, circular burn scars, old and faded but still present. Multitudinous. The scars overlapped, there was no grid or order to the markings, nothing methodical and yet everything deliberate, clustered tightest on his lower forearms and sparser near the shoulders.

“Holy shit,” Galo breathed, eyes wide, fingertips gently skimming over the scarred skin. Suddenly, the size of his own hands was exaggerated in his vision, his thick wrists and muscled arms cartoonishly huge when contrasted with the thin outline of Greyson’s arm, his delicate wrist, his knuckled hand.

“Greyson, Auntie Bethany did this to you?” Galo asked, still with muted horror, unable to look away.

“Yes Master. I am capable of acceptance without complaint, Master.”

Galo’s head snapped up, Greyson not even twitching at the motion. “And now you expect me to do something similar?” Galo asked, voice pitying and sorrowful and maybe a little scared.

“If I am the one you would like, Master,” Greyson said evenly, still kneeling, eyes still downcast, “If I am not suited to your tastes, I could fetch Evan, or Nyla--”

“No,” Galo cut him off, too loud, stomach roiling. “No, Greyson, no, no that’s not--that’s not happening. I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not,” Galo covered his mouth for a second, feeling like he might puke, “I’m not, okay? I’m not going to hurt any of you, holy shit.”

“Master is kind.”

“That isn’t-!” he cut himself off as soon as he heard himself yelling, covering his eyes with his hand. This was too fast. This was too much, while he was too tipsy, and he couldn’t think, he needed to think!

“Greyson, go to bed, okay? I’m a little drunk right now, and I’m not thinking very clearly,” he stated as calmly and evenly as he could. “None of you are going to get hurt, it’s okay, just, go to bed.”

“Yes Master,” Greyson said, very quietly, before curling his fingers around Galo’s hand and lifting it, kissing his palm. Galo watched Greyson pick up his shirt and glide out the door, silent as a ghost, with a dizzy horror. He stumbled over to his phone, knocked off-balance, and set an alarm for an hour earlier than he usually woke up. He wasn’t going into work tomorrow, but he absolutely needed to sort through all of… this, sometime when he was thinking straight.

“What the hell, Auntie Bethany?” he asked the silent room before mercifully, swiftly falling asleep.

--

Sasha was almost asleep when the door opened. That was never good.

“Grey?” she whispered, careful not to wake Lilah, who was (thankfully) sound asleep in her arms, or the others, who were also probably asleep. Nyla was spooning Lilah, and Evan was behind her, arms wrapped around Nyla’s waist tightly.

“He didn’t want anyone tonight,” Greyson informed her, just as quiet. He climbed in behind Sasha, a comforting warmth to her back that she hadn’t expected to have. It was so, so rare that the five of them all got to sleep together, usually only when Mistress was out of town.

“Was h-he disp-pleased?” Sasha asked, allowing herself her stutter that she’d never managed to get rid of, even after all these years serving Mistress and being punished for her failures. The others didn’t mind the sound.

“...Yes, but,” Greyson started, then halted. “I don’t know what he was displeased with. He didn’t punish me for it, and said he wouldn’t hurt us.”

Sasha didn’t understand, but she’d never been very good at Mistress’s games. Why should she think she’d do any better with Master’s?

Greyson pressed his nose to Sasha’s hair and rubbed his thumb in familiar motions over her arm. “It’ll be alright,” he assured, “Go to sleep, Sasha.”

So she did. What else would she do? If she stayed up worrying every night there was something she didn’t understand, she’d never sleep, and there was bread to make in the morning and a new master with new tastes to cook for and a bed full of her family keeping her warm. She rose before the others, which was why she’d been picked for chef, really, and slipped out from between Lilah and Greyson. 

“You’ve g-got an hour,” Sasha murmured when Grey’s eyes cracked open, and he shifted in to fill the cold spot on Lilah’s front that Sasha had left. She smiled at them, the four of them safe and still asleep, and then sighed when Nyla lifted her head.

“You should sl-sleep more,” Sasha told her, barely a whisper.

Nyla gave Evan a fond pat to his messy hair and slipped out of the bed.

“With a new Master? I’m surprised I slept at all,” Nyla said, taking Sasha’s place in front of the shared dresser and opening her drawer, the second from top. Sasha couldn’t exactly fault her. This was pretty early, even for her, and she wasn’t going to blame the lack of food for her stomach twisting up in knots.

They were being given an adjustment period. She had to remember that, or she would probably lose her mind. They would figure it out, and hopefully they’d figure out their new Master’s wants quick enough to avoid the worst of the punishments.

She thought, very briefly, on what Mistress had done to correct her early mistakes, when Sasha was still adjusting to the new environment, and then quickly shut that line of thought down with a sharp thump of the flour tin meeting the counter. Just make the bread, Sasha told herself. Just follow her routine, she didn’t even have it particularly bad, like Nyla or Greyson, who would have to interact with Master the most. She was tucked away in the kitchen; not even the sun paid her visits, here. 

The main problem would be learning what he wanted. So far, all she knew was that he couldn’t eat mushrooms, and he liked pasta and carrots. But that still left the rest of everything, and she wasn’t sure if he’d like or dislike any of it! Pasta, bread, wine, those were hard to go wrong with, they were staples of the human diet for a reason, but what about the rest? Did he prefer sweet foods? Spicy? Would he be upset if she made something spicy for him? How salty did he prefer his food? What would she be able to send to him that would leave her mercifully, quietly ignored, and what foods would have him storming in here with his broad shoulders and heavy arms that were so, so terrifyingly strong.

He wouldn’t need a cane or knife or poker in order to hurt them badly.

Focus on this morning’s bread. Just focus, Sasha, she thought.

His fists alone could probably do as much damage as Mistress had with tools, if he got angry enough. And if he picked up a cane--

Focus on the bread. You need to knead it, focus on that.

But it was hard not to think about how tall he was. How the sleeve of his tight t-shirt had strained when he flexed his bicep during inspection, reminding them all that just because he was new didn’t mean he would put up with backsass. Honestly, what had Grey been thinking, making a joke like that!? Did he want to die?

Well… she wouldn’t blame him, if he did. He’d been there longest out of any of them, but she would miss him terribly.

The main door opened. “Oh, morning Sasha,” Master said.

She whirled, not quite believing her ears, but there he was, in a tanktop that showed off even more of his terrifying muscles and his hair not yet gelled. 

Fear took her knees from her, and she knelt with her palms and forehead to the floor. She’d been graceless, she knew it, ugly and jerking, but she hoped what she lacked in elegance she’d made up for with effort. It was the only thing she had going for her, since her attempts at keeping her ragged breathing quiet were also lacking.

“Woah, easy girl, easy,” Master Galo ordered softly, and she grit her teeth and closed her eyes against her tears when she heard his footsteps approach. If he kicked her like this, he could knock her out, she was sure.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Master intoned, and Sasha felt his hand smooth over her hair. She wasn’t used to being in arm’s reach when she was on the floor. A foot or a cane, yes, but not a hand. But Master was not Mistress, and the rules were different now. She lifted her head into the touch, just a little, ideally showing Master she was receptive to it (and, honestly, she was. If he wanted to pet her hair, she’d take that to him hitting her any day).

“Atta girl,” Master Galo praised, “Didn’t mean to interrupt you; come on up.” Master grabbed her hands and she struggled to get her legs under her fast enough. Nyla would’ve been able to. Evan would’ve. But Sasha was clumsy and keeping any semblance of grace meant leaning into his hands, a little. She was prepared to be struck for it, but he just gave her head another pat.

“There we go!” In her peripheral, she could see that he was smiling at her. She didn’t know if that was good or not. “Go ahead and wash your hands--it is Sasha right?”

Sasha nodded, and hurried to the sink. She twitched when he opened the door of the fridge and bent to peer inside. He was so big. His shoulders were two of her. He was practically the same size as the fridge itself. 

“You did a good job with dinner, last night,” Master mentioned, and Sasha flushed, momentarily pleased. “I really enjoyed it, so thank you.”

Her lips parted, but then locked with fright. If she tried to thank him, she’d stutter, there was no way she could avoid it, but if she bowed down to show her gratitude, that would ruin the point of washing her hands, which he’d specifically ordered her to do. But she couldn’t just ignore Master, not when he was addressing her directly! The edges of her vision hazed, her stupid, clumsy hands shaking underneath the water’s stream.

“Hey, you know where the blender is?” Master asked, seemingly unbothered by her lack of response, his voice perfectly casual and chipper. He’d pulled out a bag of spinach and was observing a cucumber, and she tried to make a mental note of that, fairly sure that meant those were foods he liked.

She got her footstool and reached up for the high cupboard. Of course Mistress had owned nearly every kitchen tool known to the modern age, but the blender had rarely been used. She hadn’t liked the texture, much, and if Sasha ever ran it when she was in a room nearby she would punish her for the noise.

“Thanks,” Master said, and he was right there, his hands extended up to her expectantly, and she passed him the blender mutely. He set it down on the counter, popping the lid off, and Sasha saw the sharp metal blades inside it. A vivid mental image of Master forcing her hand inside and turning the blender on flashed before her, and her foot missed the step down.

“Careful!” He caught her like she weighed nothing. To him, she probably didn’t. “Easy there, it’s alright,” Master continued, settling her more steadily on her feet. “You good?”

Sasha nodded emphatically. She could be good. She wanted to be good, she wanted to be so good. 

“Okay, good,” Master said, sounding--relieved? No, that couldn’t be right. She bore a few more seconds of his scrutiny, head down.

“Hey,” he said, very softly, and Sasha didn’t understand what it meant when he spoke like that! “I don’t know what all my aunt did to you, but I’m not like her, okay? Things are different now.”

She nodded, blinking hard. She knew that! She knew that! She knew that rules were different now, that he would have different expectations. But Mistress had been her first owner, all of their first owner; none of them any other experience to go off! She would try, though, she’d try so hard to learn quick and behave how Master wanted!

He huffed out air through his nose, and she tried so, so hard not to flinch. He returned to the fridge and, not knowing what else to do, she returned to the bread. It was much, much harder to focus when Master was actually in the room, instead of just a specter haunting her thoughts.

“Do you have any ginger?” Master asked, opening various cabinets.

Technically, yes, but was it the kind Master wanted? If it was just a yes or no question, she could answer, but she wasn’t sure if he wanted the root kind or the ground kind.

“...I…” she squeaked, but had to silence her open mouth. She was going to stutter. She couldn’t avoid it, she couldn’t, she wanted to but she couldn’t!

“Hey, hey, breathe Sasha,” Master ordered gently, and she complied. “Sorry, I’ve been trying to keep it yes or no, but I guess this answer’s complicated?”

Sasha nodded, feeling a small flicker of hope. Was this the leniece Greyson had mentioned?

“Do you know if Nyla’s awake?”

Sasha nodded. Please, please let her go get Nyla, Nyla could make this better. Sasha knew that even just having Nyla here would make things better. 

“Do you know where to find her?” Another nod, hope rising. “Go get her, please.”

If she could thank him without ruining it, she would. She consciously reminded herself to move smoothly, not to rush and make her motions all gangly and ugly, but as soon as the kitchen door swung closed behind her she bolted through the mansion.

“Sasha?” Nyla hissed, confused and worried, and Sasha grabbed onto her sleeve. 

“M-M-Ma-ster’s aw-a-aw-awa-awake!” Sasha gasped out, breaths coming out ragged. Nyla holding her steady.

“He’s in the kitchen?”

Sasha nodded.

“Okay, okay, I’ve got it, Sasha, I’ve got it, shhh, hurry now.”

“G-g-g-ginger,” Sasha got out, following close on Nyla’s heels. 

“Okay, thank you, I’ll handle it,” Nyla whispered. Sasha always admired how Nyla was able to change her pace on a dime, going from rushed to beautiful in an instant. She glided into the kitchen in front of Sasha, patting down her skirt apron.

“Master, you need ginger sir?” Nyla asked, graceful and poised and artfully submissive. Sasha almost envied her, but what she felt wasn’t a negative emotion. Just the desire that she could be like Nyla, too.

“Morning Nyla, yes please.”

“Would you prefer ground or the root itself, master?” Nyla asked, bowing with her hands clasped in front of her apron. They kept ground ginger for cooking, the ginger root for when Mistress had been particularly cross with them, or exceptionally bored.

“It’s uh, all going in the blender,” Master Galo said with a rub to his hair, before looking at his own hand like he’d disgruntled himself. “So whichever we have more of, I guess?” Master said as he rinsed his hands off. 

Nyla paused almost imperceptibly. Even Mistress wouldn’t have noticed, but Sasha loved and respected Nyla and paid attention to her often, so she caught the moment’s hesitation.

“I believe the root may be the best option, Master.” Nyla swaned over to the pantry, and Sasha tried very hard to finish kneading the dough. But, oh, Nyla was shorter than Sasha, and the ginger was just out of reach.

“Here, I got it,” Master said, approaching her slowly, and Nyla rolled off her tiptoes to dance away from him, light as a feather.

“Apologies, Master.”

“No big,” he said, easily reaching it. “You did exactly what I asked, there’s nothing for you to be sorry for, Nyla. You’re good.”

Nyla’s cheeks reddened at Master’s praise. Sasha felt thrilled for her. She wanted to be good, too, good like Nyla was.

“Loud noise,” Master warned after adding the ginger to the blender, and Sasha was grateful. Even with the warning, she jumped, nearly fumbling the pan she was settling the dough into. 

Sasha got the bread in the oven as Master poured out his weird, green juice into a thermos, and Nyla bowed again.

“Master, do you require anything else?”

“Nah, I’m--actually, yes. How does grocery shopping happen around here?” 

“If Master would be kind enough to list some likes, I would gladly construct a shopping list and order the groceries to be delivered, as we did with Mistress,” Nyla offered.

“Oh yeah, she would definitely do that,” Master Galo murmured to himself. “I just need spinach, apples, celery, and romaine lettuce, for now. I make the same shake every morning, so I burn through those ingredients really, really fast, and Auntie doesn’t seem to keep a ton of them stocked up.”

“I will see to it, Master. If you ever need anything, I am eager to attend,” Nyla said.

“Thanks, for that. Uh, yeah. Thanks. I promise I won’t ask for anything--weird, though. So don’t worry.”

Nyla bowed with a hand over her heart in acknowledgement.

“I’m going to the gym and then I’ve got a lot of funeral arrangements to make, plus a lot of family to contact. And some… planning, to do. I probably won’t be home until after lunch, so don’t wait for me to eat. Okay?”

“Yes Master,” Nyla answered, and Sasha breathed a soft sigh of relief. They were allowed to eat without permission, that day. He was being very generous, and she wondered if that was intentionally part of the adjustment period, or just because he was too busy to be bothered because Mistress was dead. “Does that include breakfast, Master?”

“Oh, yeah, mine is this,” he twiddled the thermos. “I never eat like, solid foods for breakfast, y’all go ahead without me.” Two meals! And neither of them earned! Sasha was as grateful as she was terrified, wondering when the other shoe would drop.

“Yes Master.”

“Need anything from me before I go?” Master asked.

“No Master. I will see that all operations continue as normal in your absence, Master.”

“Okay well, don’t push yourselves too hard, yeah? Especially Lilah--oh fuck, actually, her injuries probably weren’t--anyway, yeah, just, yeah don’t push yourselves. I said that already. Anyway, bye!” 

Sasha watched Master leave, a couple mumbled words she couldn’t make out filtering through the swinging door, and her knees gave out again, hands covering her mouth.

“Sasha, Sasha hush now,” Nyla scolded gently, gripping her softly by the shoulders. “Pull yourself together, Sasha, Master hasn’t even left the estate yet!”

“I--I--I, I c-can’t,” Sasha gasped, trembling too hard, she couldn’t stop it.

“Shhh, shh, you did great, Sasha, you were so brave. Now stand up. Come on, up, up,” Nyla urged, tugging on Sasha’s arms. Sasha stood shakily, legs threatening to give out again at any moment.

“Hey,” Nyla said, her own voice shaking now that she wasn’t controlling it so precisely. She fondly stroked a dark curl from Sasha’s face. “We’re getting breakfast today, and Master didn’t specify what.”

Sasha perked up. That, with Mistress, meant Sasha could make whatever she wanted for them, and however much of it she wanted. It was a rare treat, one they were always sure to show proper gratitude for, but a treat nonetheless.

“I’ll go wake the others,” Nyla said, and Sasha nodded.

“I’ll, s-start up s-some eggs.”

They shared a grin, and Nyla rushed out, silent on her feet, as she would be until the telltale boom of the door signaled their Master had left for the day.

Next

[paging-possum]

Can you tell us all the little touches in that Glenn pic you uploaded? I recognize some stuff but not all.

OH BOY YES I CAN I got closeup screenshots too just because >:]

The tattoos are the male gender symbol and my attempt at the testosterone molecule, top surgery scars, and Morgan’s engagement ring

Fire tattoo bc he seems like that kind of guy, a trans bracelet, and a bracelet made with a Glenn Close Trio guitar pick (lowkey inspired by Nikki!), the tattoos hidden by his sleeve are a banner that says “Morgan” and a guitar scale. The rings (which you cant really see here) are his and Morgan’s wedding rings, and the asexual black ring

Bi/ace bracelets!! Plus some other random bracelets for fun just because they’re fun to play with and stuff. For those of you who don’t play music, the notes G, C and then a third (because Glenn Close Trio, get it ;D) and then the sleeve one is some random music notes and a heart bc I thought it would look cool. Also he’s wearing jorts because I said so.

[drlahlahroo]

A Rare Case

( SNK / Rivetra / Veterinarian AU )

Chapter 1

/////////////////

She first saw him 2 years ago. Back then, she was on her 4th month as an intern in Trost Veterinary Teaching Hospital and had been assigned in the O.R., where she became one of the lucky few from her university to see him in action.

“They say he’s the best veterinary surgeon in Paradis.”

“But I heard he doesn’t do a lot of surgeries anymore, at least not as regular as most surgeons.” 

“I heard it’s because he only takes up rare cases. None of those regular neutering and stuff. He’s just that great!”

“Well he did graduate top of his class back then. So he probably does more than just surgeries.”

“He’s pretty short though. I thought the Doctor Levi Ackerman would be some tall, beefy guy or something after I heard he performed a delicate cesarean on a Chianina cow by himself. Those things are massive, you know!”

“Petra, what do you think?”

Petra had hushed her fellow interns, opting to focus her attention on the ongoing surgery. She recalled looking down at the surgical theatre in wonder as he made one last clamp on a rather large vessel, before he raised a scalpel to make a long cut. Then he and the assistant across from him lifted the basketball-sized tumor from within the abdominal cavity of a Jack Russel Terrier.

No sooner after that, he was closing the dog up. He sutured very quickly – something her professor in surgery would surely argue against, as impatience would lead to ugly stitches and, therefore, ugly scars. But she had attended to that patient post-operation and found his stitches to be so precise and so perfect that it would heal as if nothing ever happened.

It was the fastest splenectomy Petra has ever witnessed in her entire life, especially on a high-risk patient. She never met another veterinarian who could beat his 2 hour and 32 minutes record.

She did come close though. 3 hours and 16 minutes on an almost similar case. Not that time should matter, as surgical success should not be solely based on speed, but it did catch the attention of her dean.

Less than a year after passing the board exam, she received an email from Doctor Erwin Smith, the dean of Veterinary Medicine from her alma mater, allowing her an opportunity to be part of the surgical department in Trost Veterinary Teaching Hospital, one of the top veterinary hospitals in the country. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse.

So here she is now in Doctor Smith’s office in her freshly pressed white-coat, with the name Petra Ral, DVM embroidered on the left breast pocket. They were going through some minor details about her employment when the door burst open and a rather short, dark-haired man stepped in with a scowl on his face.

“Erwin.” It was the first time she heard his voice. It was low and laced with irritation. “What’s with this new team your making that I have to lead and shit.”

“Impeccable timing, Levi. I’d like to introduce you to Doctor Petra Ral” Dr. Smith said with a smile, seemingly unaffected by the other male’s glare. “Doctor Ral, I’m sure you’ve heard about Doctor Levi Ackerman.”

Petra stood and turned fully to face Doctor Ackerman, smiling despite the intimidating stare he gave her. “Um…yes. I’ve heard many great things about you, doctor.” His scowl only seemed to deepen at that.

“Doctor Ral will be a new member of the surgical department. She graduated top of her class and is one of the best veterinary surgical interns I ever met. Quick, but precise.” At Doctor Smith’s praise, Petra dipped her head to hide a blush. She didn’t exactly think she was that great.

The blond veterinarian turned his attention back to the shorter male, who had crossed his arms over his chest. “Her skills almost remind me of yours, Doctor Ackerman. I was hoping that you’d handpick her to join your special team –”

“I don’t need a team.” Levi snapped back, cutting him off.

“A special team?” Petra asked, turning back to the dean. 

“Yes. I wanted to form a special diagnostics and surgical team that would focus on high-risk and unusual cases. Something more in Doctor Ackerman line of interest.”

“And something I don’t need a team for. I’ll be fine by myself.”

Levi had walked closer to Doctor Smith’s table until he stood next to her, allowing Petra an up-close inspection of the well-renowned veterinary surgeon. She always thought he would be around her height based on when she first saw him, but it seemed that she was still a little shorter. He looked quite youthful for a man in his thirties, the only indicator of his age evident in the lines under his eyes. Either that or he just didn’t sleep a lot.

It was at this point that Erwin’s smile dropped. “You need a team, Levi. You can’t keep doing things by yourself.” He then reached for a folder on his desk and raised it for him to see. “I got you a case. It’s a referral from Doc Pixis. The patient and the owner are already waiting in Exam Room 8.” He then glanced at her. “I would like you and Doctor Ral to handle this one.”

Petra blinked in surprise. If this was a case meant for the Levi Ackerman, then surely it must be a difficult one. Something a fresh graduate like her would not be able to handle. “Doctor Smith, are you sure about this? I mean, I just started and I don’t think I have the experience to tackle such a case.”

“I trust in your capabilities, Doctor Ral,” he smiled at her, “I know you’ll do just fine. Hopefully, Doctor Ackerman will appreciate your skill sets as well, at least enough for him to be convinced that he needs a team.”

“There’s no need to tag her along, or anyone else for that matter. If I need someone, I’ll just call one of the brats.” Levi complained once again.

At that, Erwin stood, and he stood tall. Practically towering everyone else in the room. It rendered the other male into silence. Petra could tell that this was a topic the two have probably argued about for a long time now. However, she could understand why someone like Doctor Levi would be against the idea of putting up another team. It wasn’t exactly needed, and it was just going to be an extra expense in the hospital’s part. But it was always hard to say no to the orders of their dean. Besides, it was under his leadership that Trost VTH became the success that it is today.

The dean raised his arm, stretching out the folder in his hand towards the other male. “At least assess her competence, Levi. I’m sure you’ll see how she could be a great asset to this hospital.”

From the corner of her eye, she thought she saw him inspect her from head to toe with a grimace. He eventually clicked his tongue before snatching the case file from the dean’s hand. Petra watched as he flipped it open, then skimmed through the contents of the first 2 pages, before shutting the folder again. Then he all but shoved the case file in her arms, much to her surprise, before he turned to the door and exited without a word.

Confused, Petra looked down at the folder in her hands before turning back to the dean, who let out a sigh of exasperation.

She bit the inside of her cheek, thinking her words thoroughly before speaking. “Uh…Is he always this…”

“Rude? Stubborn?” Erwin completed her sentence for her with an apologetic smile tugging his lips. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it quickly the more you work with him.”

Her smile dropped, “I don’t think he’s even interested in –” 

“Oi.”

Petra quickly turned back to the door, where the dark-haired veterinarian was suddenly standing again. He nodded off to the direction of the hallway impatiently. “What the hell are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

 /////////////////

Levi halted in front of Exam Room 8, holding back a grumble in his throat. From the corner of his eye, he watched the ginger-haired vet halt a meter away from him, the case file held over her chest. He turned to look at her and he thought he saw her flinch a bit. She was short, shorter than him, and for once he was glad to find another doctor in this damn hospital that he didn’t have to crane his neck up just to look at. Still, he wasn’t impressed. She looked young and inexperienced – the kind of girl who would rather hug and comfort a horse than drain the abscess from its infected neck. She could be the smartest student in her class but may lack grit in the field. Levi has seen so many veterinarians like her.

Turning away from her for a bit, he called out down the other side of the hall where 3 interns in scrubs were busy mopping near the lobby. “Hey brat.”

A dark-haired male looked up. His green eyes widened at the sight of the doctor and he almost dropped the mop. Petra watched curiously as Levi called him over and the intern stiffly stood between the two of them, his visibly taller height apparent. On his left breast, the name Eren Yeager is embroidered in striking white against his forest green scrubs, which were slightly wrinkled at the edges. She could see the slight apprehension in his features as he waited for the older vet to speak.

“This is Doctor Ral. She’s new. Assist her.”

“Y-yes, Doc.”

Levi handed him the clipboard that hung from the side of the exam room door. “Get the initial signalment,” he said, eyes narrowing, “Don’t fuck it up, Yeager.”

The boy nodded, nervously taking the clipboard before opening the sliding door enough for him to step in.

“Do you always intimidate interns like that?”

Levi turned back to the ginger. She had her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised at him, with a look of annoyance. He clicked his tongue, shooting back a scowl. “His handwriting is shit and he always make a mess in the workroom.” He then crossed his arms over his chest, mirroring her pose. For a while, they exchanged glares.

Then he nodded his head to the direction of the door. “Well, get in.”

Petra blinked. “What?”

“I said get in. You don’t want to keep them waiting.”

She pursed her lips in annoyance before turning to open the sliding door. She steps in just enough to notice the young male intern lift a golden retriever off the weighing scale, when she realized that Levi did not follow her into the room. She turned back to the open door to find him still outside, leaning on the door frame with arms still crossed and eyes closed.

Petra stepped back out the door and faced him. Levi noticed her presence enough to bat one eye open.

“Are you not coming in?”

“No.”

“You’re letting me do this on my own?”

He shrugged. “You interned here, didn’t you? You already know where all tools and the important stuff is. Besides that, you got your license now. Surely you know what to say and do.”

“Doctor Smith said we have to handle this together.”

“Erwin wanted me to assess you,” He uncrossed his arms, opting to slip them into the side pockets of his white coat, “So I’m going to assess you from out here. Now get in.”

She stared up at him with an incredulous expression, mouth slightly ajar. She eventually resigned herself to do the examination on her own, turning back into the room, but not before shoving the folder back at him in almost the same manner he did back in Doctor Smith’s office. She then raised her chin and entered the room, hoping the dog’s owner wouldn’t see the stress behind her smile.

The intern handed her the clipboard, and she gave a glance at the patient’s name in the file before she offered a hand to the older woman in the room. “Good morning, ma’am! My name’s Doctor Petra Ral, and I’ll be Sparks attending veterinarian.”

From his spot outside, Levi watched as the ginger vet performed the basics of physical examination: taking the dog’s temperature, checking the skin, eyes, and ears, running her hands through the fine golden fur and palpating for lymph nodes. All the while, talking animated with the owner, asking the necessary questions while the green-eyed intern wrote as fast as he could.

She had giggled along with everyone else in the room when the Retriever licked her cheeks in affection while she held the bell of her stethoscope to its chest. Levi then saw her squeeze the dog’s face, squishing it. The odd and funny face made everyone laugh. The dog seemed to enjoy the attention (as most dogs do), scooting closer to the female vet and laying its large head on the crook of her arm. The air in the room was calm as she continued with her ministrations. Even the intern, who normally stood stiff and awkward when he was around, visibly relaxed in her presence.

Soon enough, she began asking the more serious questions, and he could see the exchange of worried faces as the owner began to point out her complaints. Levi drowned most of it out. It wasn’t anything different from what he saw in the file from the referring vet: Malaise, continued loss of weight despite normal appetite, and abdominal enlargement with no apparent pain that was first noticed 2 months ago. He was more interested in hearing the tests she’d want to be performed.

“All right,” He heard her say after all questions were asked. He watched her hang the stethoscope around her neck and turn to the male intern, “Eren, let's draw some blood for CBC, creatinine, BUN, TP, and ALT. Then kindly get him to radiology for some abdominal x-rays in left and right laterals and dorsoventral views.”

The intern nodded and began to assist her in drawing the dog’s blood into a few tubes. It didn’t take her long to do the procedure. Levi has encountered many fresh graduates draw blood with shaky hands, but Petra was quick – not a twitch on her wrist.

Soon enough, Eren was leading the dog towards the door and he had to step out of the way as they exited the exam room and continue off towards the radiology department.

Petra made one last conversation with the owner, asking her to wait inside until the intern return with her dog, before she left the room with the tray of test tubes containing the dog’s blood samples.

Just as she slid the door close, she heard him speak, “Why ask for ALT?”

He was still leaning on the wall next to the door, scrutinizing her. She turned to him fully, one hand on her hip and that same exasperated expression on her face. “Well, if only you 'personally' examined the patient, then maybe you would have noticed the abdominal enlargement.”

“Then surely a simple radiograph would have sufficed, don’t you think?”

He saw her roll her eyes at him, which slightly pissed him off, because nobody rolls their eyes at him.

“Well, if only you 'personally' examined the patient,” she repeated with more emphasis, “then maybe you would have noticed that the abdominal enlargement is more prominent on the right side.”

“And you’re suspecting it’s the liver.”

“The liver’s in the cranial right quadrant of the abdomen, is it not?” She stepped forward towards him and, as if trying to match his intimidating air, looked up to see him eye to eye. Petra noticed his irises were an icy blue-grey, almost like steel. “Or do you need help in reviewing your anatomy?”

If he was upset at that, he didn’t show it. Instead he tilted his head to one side, eyeing her back. Levi finally got a good look at her eyes, which were a vibrant but fiery amber.

“There’s no jaundice.” He stated.

She raised an eyebrow. “How would you know that?”

He raised the folder. “It’s stated here. This is a referral remember? Maybe you should opt to read the case files beforehand to avoid wasting time repeating the questions the owner already heard from the last vet.”

Petra glanced up at the folder in his hand, biting her lower lip in annoyance at being bested and for actually forgetting to take a look at the file in the first place. But she still had one counter to his argument.

“Hepatomegaly doesn’t always present with jaundice.”

Levi didn’t change his expression, nor move at all. He did make a low hum, as if in thought. Petra took this opportunity to lightly snatch the folder from his raised hand. She tucked it under her arm and then turned away to the other side of the hall.

“I’m taking the samples to the lab.”

Levi lowered his arm and watched her go. Then he slipped his hands back inside the pockets of his white coat while the corners of his lips tugged upward slightly.

End of Chapter 1 

(read Chapter 2 here)

Medical terminologies:

Signalment: the complete description of a patient, like species, breed, age, date of birth, sex, etc.

CBC (Complete blood count): a test to check for the number of red blood cell and white blood cell and other important blood values

CREA (Creatinine): A test that measures the levels of creatinine in the blood, which is a waste product when muscles breakdown. The test determines if the kidneys are functional and has the capacity to excrete the creatinine.

BUN (Blood Urea Nitrogen): a test that measures the amount of nitrogen in the blood, which is another waste product. The test also determines if the kidney is functional enough to excrete the nitrogen.

TP (Total Protein): a test that measure the total amount of albumin and globulin (both are 2 types of proteins) present in blood. It is checked when a patient has unexpected weight loss.

ALT (Alanine aminotransferase): a test that checks for liver damage.

Cranial Right Quadrant: The upper right side of the abdomen.

Jaundice: a medical condition that causes yellowing of the skin, whites of the eyes, gums and tongue, due to excess of a pigment released by a diseased liver.

Hepatomegaly: a medical condition of having an enlarged liver, which often presents as an abdominal mass.

A/N: This was the result of a request by @mare-dogs. And since I am an actual veterinarian, it was something I couldn’t refuse to do. So, I incorporated my professional knowledge and experience into this Rivetra two-shot. I’m also a big fan of House, M.D., so If you’re a fan as well, then maybe the flow of the story might seem familiar to you.

But damn, a medical themed story is really hard to write! Took me a while plotting how this would go, and I had to draw out old files of interesting cases I actually handled to make this feel more realistic. I also needed to review my books to maintain accuracy, especially with medical facts. I might make a few slip-ups here and there, but I’ll try to make it work.

There is no definitive schedule when the next part of the story will be published, but I’m already on it. So let’s hope I managed to get this done soon. So stay tuned. Until then, spay and neuter your pets!

[bxrningambitions]

All the questions (The two guys)

Kinky Questions, make my muse uncomfortable--go! 

1: Kitchen Counter, Couch, or on top of the dryer?-Any of it really, though I do love the counter for its height possibilities, the couch for its comfort and the dryer for its warmth 2: Your last sexual encounter: Good or Bad and why:-Wonderful, always is with these two 3: A fictional person that you think would be good in bed:-That priest from that show perhaps? Also Takeshi Kovacs and Jopari 4: Something that never fails to make you horny:-Richie’s hands, Rin’s eyes, that look when I’m about to get in trouble, also biting my neck in that spot...thought that is a bit above just horny, isn’t it? 5: Where is one place you would never have sex:-Anywhere kids might pop up. Stepfather’s grave 6: The most awkward moment during a sexual experience was when _ I got too cold and turned into a dragon, mood killer 7: Weirdest thing that ever made you horny:-Hand tattoos and scar tissue 8: What is the best way to sexually bind someone: Handcuffs, Rope, or Other [if other please explain]:-Rope 9: What is the fastest way to make you horny:-Bite my neck or call me little dragon 10: Top or bottom?-Switch 11: We were about to _(have a quiet night in)_ but then _(RIchie came home still in costume)_ [example: we were about to have sex but then his mom walked in] 12: Is one orgasm enough? Are multiple orgasms necessary?- I like multiples, but one will do in a pinch 13: Something that you have hidden in your room that you don’t want anyone to find:-That manuscript 14: Weirdest nickname a significant other has ever called you:Firebutt hated it 15: Two things you like [or dislike] about oral sex:-Touch and taste 16: Weirdest sexual act some has performed [or tried to perform] on/with you:Brazillian blow torch 17: Have you ever tasted yourself? [If no, would you?] [If yes, what did you think?]-I have, I’m alright I guess, sort of sweet 18: Is it ever okay to not use a condom:-Trying to start a family, sure 19: Who was the sexiest teacher you ever had?-Ummmm next question 20: A food that you would like to use during a sexual experience:-Chocolate 21: How big is too big:-15 inches 22: One sexual thing you would never do:-Feet, scat, urine, mummification 23: Biggest turn on:-Them more specific, eyes, voice, arms, muscles, scars. 24: Three spots that drive you insane:-Neck, down there, inner thigh 25: Worst possible time to get horny:-Church 26: Do you like it when your sexual partner moans:-Love it 27: Worst sexual idea you ever had:-Hammock, fell through and got caught up in it, just a lot of naked spinning, not fun. 28: How much fapping is too much fapping:-I have no idea, more than twice a day, might have a problem? 29: Best sexual complement you ever got:-Mix between my oral skills and that thing I do with my tail 30: Bald, landing strip, Jumanji:Bald, why bother with the landing strip, just finish the job 31: Is it good sex if you don’t nut:-Not at all true, as long as all parties involved enjoyed themselves, sometimes, its about taking care of the other person/persons. 32: Fill in the blank: "If they _(Bite my neck, are married to me)_, we are fuckin" 33: What your favorite part of your body:-I like my eyes and my tail 34: Favorite foreplay activities:-Oral, kissing, touching, mostly Richie’s wings and Sev’s short leg 35: Love (>,<, or =) Sex For those of us who don’t remember our math thats “greater than, less than, or equal to]-Greater than  36: What do you wear to bed?-Nightgowns, their shirts or nothing, depends on my mood and what they are wearing 37: When was the first time you masturbated:-No clue, try not to think about any of my first times 38: Do you have any nude/masturbating pictures/video of yourself?-Not into that, but yes I do 39: Have you ever/when was the last time you had sex outside?-Before it got too cold. 40: Have/would you ever have sex outside?-Yes, I have, we love it. 41: Have/would you ever had a threesome?-In a triad, so yes, things have happened... 42: What is one random object you’ve used to masturbate?-there was this interesting phallic looking rolling pin that was made out of marble.... 43: Have/would you ever masturbate at work/school?-No, I work mostly on rooftops, that would be weird 44: Have/would you ever have sex on a plane?-Of course, who hasn’t? 45: What is one song you’d like to have sex to?-I don’t really pay attention to that. 46: What is something nonsexual that makes you horny?-Richie’s hand tattoos, when Rin’s accent gets thicker, when Richie whispers, Little Dragon, things like that. 47: Most attractive celebrity?-Quite partial to Andrew Scott, Joel Kinnamon for some odd reason 48: Do you watch gay/lesbian porn? why/why not?-No, why would I? All I have to do is watch them 49: If a child was born on the occasion of the last time you had sex, how old would that child be right now?-Two hours old? 50: Has anyone ever posted nude pictures of you online?-Yes, but they were removed, both the person and the pictures. 51: What is one thing that NEVER makes you horny?-Being called slave during that is a giant no, I will get up and walk away 52: Do you have stretch marks? (How do you feel about them? Has anyone ever had a problem with them?)-No I do not 53: Do you like giving head? (why/why not)-Love it! Just something about it, the control, the surrender, the taste, the sounds.  54: How do you feel about tattoos on someone you are interested in?-I apparently really like them, really 55: How would you feel about taking someones virginity?-Nope nope nope 56: Is there any food you would NOT recommend using during a sexual encounter?-Cheese? 57: Is there anything you do on Tumblr that you would not like your significant other to see?-wtf is a tumblr? Where did the e go? 58: Do you own any sex toys? (what is it? (how long have you had it?)-I may have a few.....not telling, a long time. It gets a lot of enjoyment and use. 59: Would you give your significant other unrestricted access to your Tumblr for a day?-No idea what that is. 60: Would you be offended if your significant other suggested you get plastic surgery?-Unless it was for my safety, yes I would be 61: Would you rather be a pornstar or a prostitute?-Been both, against my will, never again 62: Do you watch porn?-Nope 63: How small is too small?-An inch or two?

64: Have you ever been called a freak? Why?-Yes I have, don’t mind it, I have a tail, scales, and breathe fire post orgasm, comes with the territory. 65: Who gave you your last kiss? Did it mean anything?-It definitely did, it was from the man that I love dearly and he got me pregnant. I’ll let them figure out which I mean. (But disclaimer, I love and married the other man too <3) 66: Would you switch phones with your significant other for a day?-Why? That is such a controlling move?? Maybe Richie’s so his doesn’t get dropped, broken, or lost for a day. 67: Do you feel comfortable going "commando"?- No unless asked nicely. Or no pants Thursday 68: Would you have a problem with going down on someone if they hadn't shaved their pubic hair?-I would prefer at least trimmed, not really into flossing 69: If you could give yourself head, would you?-Nahhh 70: Booty or Boobs?-Booty, but I do like playing with boobs too 71: If you had a penis, what would you name it?-Bob (In the most basic American accent) 72: Have you ever been on an official date?-Mm, maybe one or two...I am married. 73: Have you ever cheated on someone? (Why?)-No, never why cheat? Just break up 74: If you were a stripper, what would your name be?-Pixie Stick, because I am short and sweet? 75: Have you ever had sex in your parents bed? (Would you?)-....I don’t want to talk about this 76: How would you react if you found out your parents had sex in your bed?-Again just no 77: What was your reaction the first time you saw a penis/vagina-I cried, moving on 78: If you had a penis/vagina for a day, what are five things you would do?-Helicopter dick,write my name in the snow, sex, jack off, that’s all I can think of. 

@guard-and-storyteller

[yuzurk]

AS OF 2019    ━━━━━━━━        template ┊ @astraofrph  ◞  ❤ | taken from @rkjiwvn

❥ ┊ BASIC INFORMATION  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   full name  choi yena ┊ 최예나

›   pronunciation

›   meaning  choi: high, lofty, towering | yena: life & vitality

›   reasoning  her parents wanted her to be just as successful and mighty as them (lol)

›   nickname ( s )  yuzu, mochi, nana

›   preferred name ( s )  yuzu

›   birth date september 29, 1999

›   age  nineteen

›   zodiac  libra  ・ air sign ┊ the scales. libra is the sign of fairness, and like you would imagine, libras value honesty and fairness. they seek harmonious living, and are often sensitive to those around them, and even run the risk of compromising themselves for the sake of harmony. balance for a libra means finding their other half, making them very romantic individuals. their search for balance and harmony also means biting their tongue, so from time to time, they’re bound to explode.

›   gender / pronouns  female ┊ she / her / hers

›   romantic orientation  hetero-romantic

›   sexual orientation  bicurious

›   nationality  korean

›   ethnicity  korean

›   current residence  itaewon, yongsan-gu, seoul

›   living conditions  sufficient to luxurious ┊ with her cousin & her boyfriend

›   title ( s ) gamer gal

❥ ┊ BACKGROUND  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   birth place  daegu, korea

›   hometown  jung-gu, daegu, korea

›   social class  upper middle class 

›   education level high school graduate

›   father  choi kibum, 48 ┊ lawyer, politician

›   mother  kim ahrin, 47 ┊ housewife, “it girl”  

›   sibling ( s )  only child (subject to change, open for plotting!)  

›   birth order  

›   children

›   pet ( s ) two dogs owned by her cousin, very strenuous relationship 

›   other important relatives  cousin: song jieun, 26 ┊ indie musician & model

›   previous relationships  none she took seriously and considers worth mentioning

›   criminal record arrested for charges of assault. case dropped the same day     (information restricted from access due to her father’s influence)

❥ ┊ OCCUPATION & INCOME  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   primary source of income  streamer in twitch (since 2016)

›   secondary source of income  investments managed by her cousin’s boyfriend 

›   tertiary source( s ) of income  part-time barista

›   approximate amount per year  around 5.000.000 $

›   content with their job ( or lack there of ) ?  as of now yes. 

›   past job ( s )  none

›   spending habits  bad but somewhat within reason. mostly spends money on food, game merch and clothing

›   most valuable possession  her computer

❥ ┊ SKILLS & ABILITIES  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   physical strength she’s 49kg of weak muscle

›   offense  can deliver a punch if needed be

›   defense  as robust as a leaf

›   speed  runs 100m in 10 seconds

›   intelligence  graduated best of her year

›   accuracy  decent (did kyudo in primary)

›   agility  decent due to track and field practice

›   stamina 8 / 10 used to be full 10 but got lazy from her life as a streamer

›   teamwork 6 / 10 can work in a team but tends to stray when she does not agree

›   talents  games, making people laugh, dancing, sports, encouraging people

›   shortcomings  fails to take things seriously, avoids talking about her troubles, evades confrontation, tends to be ignorant

›   language( s ) korean ( fluent ), english ( fluent ), japanese ( fluent, dialect based )

›   can they : drive / jump-start a car / change flat tire / ride a bicycle / swim / play an instrument ( and what instrument ) / play chess / braid hair / tie a tie / pick a lock / etc:

❥ ┊ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE & CHARACTERISTICS  ━━━━━

›   face claim  choi yena, IZ*ONE

›   eye color brown

›   hair color ( naturally black ) but dyed dirty blonde

›   hair type / style wavy, generally up in ponytail or down

›   glasses / contacts  likes to wear “hipster-glasses”

›   dominant hand  left-handed

›   height / weight / build  163cm, 5'4" ┊ 49kg, 108lbs ┊ slender

›   exercise habits  stretch session in the morning, unknown to most she likes to jog

›   skin tone  slightly tan

›   tattoos

›   piercings  pierced ear lobes

›   marks / scars a scar on her knee from falling from a slide (5), scar on her hip from an appendix surgery (14), scar on the inside of her palm from grabbing a knife wrong (16)

›   notable features  pouty lips, squishy cheeks

›   usual expression  curious, approachable

›   clothing style  casual oversized

›   jewelry

›   allergies  walnuts, pineapple

›   body temperature  slightly more warm above average

›   diet  no such word found in her dictionary

›   physical ailments

❥ ┊ PSYCHOLOGY  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   jung type  enfp┊ a ball of energydespite that, they’re moody af; unpredictable; bounces from one idea to another so much and so quickly it’s not even funny; awesome sense of humor; for some reason, their laugh is almost as funny as their jokes; actually more introverted than most extroverts and can actually be mistaken for an introvert

›   enneagram type  type 7  The Enthusiast  ┊ Enthusiasts are energetic, lively, and optimistic. They want to contribute to the world.

›   moral alignment  chaotic good

›   temperament  sanguine

›   element  air

›   primary intelligence type  kinaesthetic intelligence

›   approximate iq 125

›   mental conditions / disorders

›   sociability 9 / 10

›   emotional stability  8 / 10

›   obsession ( s )  

›   compulsion ( s )

›   phobia ( s ) none

›   vice / addiction ( s )  does coffee count?

›   drug use

›   alcohol use  7 / 10 ┊ loves to party and enjoy a good drink

›   prone to  evasive behaviour, flirting without any intentions, avoid responsibility

❥ ┊ MANNERISMS  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   speech style  very dialect based, no matter which language she speaks

›   accent  slight accent when speaking japanese but working to get rid of it again

›   quirks  always chewing gum, unhealthy obsession with chicken, chews lips, headtilting

›   hobbies  dancing, gaming, running, archery, singing

›   habits  raises brows when she talks, gum smacking, shrugging, 

›   nervous ticks  twirls her hair, bites her lips, wandering eyes

›   drives/motivations  wanting to make people happy (herself included) 

›   fears  bugs, needles, darkness, ghosts, scary stories

›   positive traits  energetic, courageous, easygoing

›   negative traits  airy, decadent, fickle

›   sense of humor  sarcastic / memes

›   do they curse often? yup

›   catchphrase ( s )  “ hoo boi “ / “ y’all “ / “ foreal! ”

 ❥ ┊ FAVORITES  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   activity  gaming

›   animal  cats

›   beverage  coffee moccha 

›   book the importance of being earnest

›   celebrity griffin mcelroy (gamer, podcast maker, entertainer)

›   color  black / red

›   designer doesn’t care much for brands- perhaps park ivy?

›   food  fried chicken

›   flower  carnation

›   gem 

›   holiday  christmas 

›   mode of transportation  motorcycle (even though she has no license)

›   movie  heaven’s postman

›   musical artist  little mix

›   quote / saying  fall seven times, get up eight.

›   scenery  sunset on a hill

›   scent  tangerines

›   sport  track and field

›   sports team

›   television show  hello counselor 

›   weather  breeze, warm

›   vacation destination  kyoto, japan

❥ ┊ ATTITUDES  ━━━━━━━━━━━

›   greatest dream  to live a happy and comfortable life

›   greatest fear  being judged in unjustified manners

›   most at ease when  streaming games, spending time with friends

›   least at ease when with her parents, in formal situations

›   worst possible thing that could happen  having to go back to daegu

›   biggest achievement being close to 400K followers on twitch

›   biggest regret none

›   most embarrassing moment  having to tell yoongi she had a crush on him

›   biggest secret  almost got a criminal record if not for the influence of her father

›   top priorities  first. friends and family; second. streaming (her fans); third. her job as a barista

[rylandt2018]

Ryland got a nose job on Monday under the care of Dr. Caston to remove that huge bump on his face. It turned out to be BONE, not a cyst! Apparently, he smacked his face on something near the point where two plates come together, and his body responded by growing new bone over the top to protect it. After determining that the problem was purely cosmetic, I made the decision to have it removed. I want to show him in subjective disciplines (dressage, but maybe hunters in the beginning), and at some point I may like to sell him without a golf ball-sized bone stuck to his noggin. At this point, the bone was softer from being so new.

After sedating for standing surgery, they chipped the bone away with a chisel. WHAT. Yes, really. A chisel. Chip chip chip...the bloody picture is bone chips. The last piece essentially peeled away from the normal bone in his face. Ryland is a work of art! The students at Iowa State University stitched his face back together in two layers, and I think they did a really beautiful job. As long as he doesn’t mess with it, I think it should heal without a significant scar!  When he woke up a bit more, I had him endoscoped to see if he’s as much of a roarer as I think he is...and sure enough: he has grade 3A laryngeal hemiplegia on the left side (scale of 1-4). It’s not currently affecting his performance, so I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. I personally don’t think it will affect his performance this year at a lower level, but next winter might be a good time to consider tie-back surgery.  

He left with a roll of gauze stitched to his face and all of the horses probably laughed at him when he got home. He seems to be doing well. Me, on the other hand...I just got another large tattoo, so it works that neither of us will be up for riding until next week. I’ll have to keep working on those Masterson Methods skills I brought home!

[transstudiesarchive]

fat and trans

During the term we have looked at direct and institutional/administrative violence towards people/groups and their connections to racism, cissexism, heterosexism, and various other intersections of identity. In Normal Life we looked at sources of power, types of power, and an in-depth analysis of disciplinary power through establishing norms in which we police others and ourselves. A common location where we see this kind of power enforced is in hospitals, clinics, and various other healthcare settings. Violence and harm occurs within healthcare settings from practitioners and other supporting staff members toward social “others.” In the last few months I have been looking at weight bias and stigmatization in healthcare settings and how this causes harm toward fat/larger bodied patients. Fat bodies and trans bodies are often treated as disposable, and from what we have looked at, often practices/spaces seen as neutral have the capacity to cause considerable harm/violence. 

In the last month I made a post asking folks who identify as fat/larger bodied/trans/nb/gnc to share their experiences around gender-affirming surgeries. I believe it is common to find instances of harm in healthcare settings and from practitioners towards trans/nb/gnc folks and fat/larger bodied folks. I think that this intersection of identities and experiences are an important addition to our trans archive project. We have looked beyond an individual discriminatory type model and have seen how large-scale surveillance and harm can operate towards certain bodies. Below, I have two submissions from two different individuals discussing their experiences with surgeons and being larger-bodied as well as trans/nb. I also asked them to share some kind of expression of art or otherwise that may connect to their experiences. I thought it was important to share their experiences in their own words. Over the course of the term we have discussed the importance of reshaping and reimaging laws, policies, and different ways of living/being to improve our most marginalised communities’ life chances. I hope for these shared experiences and connections to be a starting point for reimagining and improving conditions. 

“I was seeing Dr. D as my PCP at Kaiser when I decided to  start taking steps towards getting top surgery. I had disclosed to my doctor early on that I was in recovery from alcohol use along with an eating disorder, because I felt like that was important information for my doctor to have in their efforts to be trauma-informed in the care they provide to me as a patient of theirs. Dr. D had explained that there was a BMI requirement for surgery and that I would have to be under a certain weight  before the surgery could happen (10 lbs less than I weighed at the time). I wasn’t excited about this, but knew that there would be plenty of time between now and when my actual surgery would take place. I went through the red-tape necessary to get a letter from a therapist recommending that I be allowed to have top surgery; which in itself was harmful. I was referred to a cis woman, who had little to no knowledge on trans issues and she asked abrasive questions without explaining the process to me. SO. When I had all of that completed I called Dr. D to ask about my referral to the surgery center. She abruptly said to me, over the phone, that the BMI requirement for surgery actually needed to be met before the referral was put in and as soon as I lost 10 pounds mt referral would be sent. Needless to say, my recovery was lost and I essentially starved myself to lose those few pounds so that I could have my referral put in. I was back in the depths of my eating disorder for about a year after surgery. The harm that was caused to me, as a trans/fat/queer person, was immense. The disposability of my body and my health in the eyes of someone that is supposed to care for me was blatant.” - E.

“I picked dr. C from a pool of surgeons given to me by kaiser after being referred by a pcp that I had been seeing for about a year. I picked him based on availability and later found out dr. C lists himself as specializing in transgender care. For context - I disclosed to kaiser that I was non binary and my pronouns are they/them. 

I brought my friend with me to my consultation. The nurse and Dr. C were both polite. Dr. C first evaluated my chest and I chose to have my friend leave the room. It went okay- although when he was done evaluating the area, Dr. C was walking towards the door and said he would let my friend back in. I was still in a gown with my chest not binded. I asked him if I could put my binder and shirt back on first. He said yes, and then waited for me to put my binder and shirt back on before letting my friend back in. This moment was uncomfortable and it would have been really embarrassing to have my friend walk back in with me in a thin white gown that didn’t close all the way. 

Dr. C then consulted with me about what I could expect- he showed us pictures of his results in a variety of body types. He often referred to thinner bodies as having a desirable outcome and larger bodies as having feminine presenting results. 

When someone had incisions that were offset or had more scar tissue built up- he said that this was because the person had more body fat. I asked questions about my body type (being chubby) and he said that he would want my results to look proportionate- and that larger bodied people had less proportionate results. 

I also asked questions that I had in terms of being non binary. Dr. C didn’t seem to have a vocabulary around this or offer more detailed consultation around this, and seemed to always refer to an ideal result as a binary person with “passable” results- in comparison to a cis male. I didn’t question this at the time, or currently, because I am concerned about not getting the best care by Dr. c.

After covid 19 hit, I decided to reschedule my top surgery from June 2020 to September 2020- when dr. C’s scheduling office sent me a letter they addressed me by my deadname”. - R.

[summerdutkowsky]

☝🏼🚬🍷♒️💉✏️(tattoos wanted)🎤🎶📝💬(I wish...)💬(text)🎥📺✏️(random fact)🚀💃🏼👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🔮📚🚔🎫🚼

☝ - How tall are you? I’m a very small 5′3″🚬 - Do you Smoke? No never ever. I grew up with a mom that smoked and I hated it and I saw how hard it was for her to quit so I swore to never start🍷 - Do you Drink? Sometimes? Not often and I’ve never been drunk, but I do enjoy a glass of wine now and then♒ - Do you Take Drugs? Nope. Like painkillers and stuff but prescribed drugs💉 - Have Tattoos? No✏️ - Want any tattoos? I want so many tattoos (I have an excellent tattoo artist cousin so it’s in the works for when I get better health wise). The first one I want to get is a grey scale canary (black canary ayyy) with the quote ‘life is tough, but so are you’ on my collarbone. I also want a Dark Tower related tattoo and just I have a whole folder on my computer with tattoo ideas. I just need money and health🎤 - Top 5 favorite bands? Delta Rae, Grace Potter and the Nocturnals, Castro, Panic at the Disco, Green Day (those last two are kind of interchangeable with other bands and I kept it to bands and not solo artists or else those two would be completely different)🎶 - Top 5 favorite songs? Chasing Twisters - Delta Rae, Heaven is a Place on Earth - Belinda Carlisle, Drumming Noise - Florence and the Machine, Rock and Roll - Castro, I Moved South - Delta Rae📝 - Story from your childhood. I... don’t have a great memory but since it’s summer it reminds me of being at my grandparents house and there was no air conditioning so we all would hang out in the garage where it was like.... a tenth of a degree cooler and I was only like six or seven so I didn’t care much so I would just run around but sometimes my grandpa (who was a super serious man with everyone except me) and I would play this game where I would sneak up behind him and he would always sit in this one chair, those plastic crap lawn chairs with the high back and they had the holes in the back for redneck breathe ability and I would poke at his back pretending to be a fly and he would lightly swat at me with a fly swatter and I thought it was the greatest game ever. Or the one time my cousins built a ramp to ride their bikes off of and I was still on my tricycle and went over it anyway and got a great big scrape on my knee and went to the garage sobbing and my grandpa made me laugh by telling me to put windex on it and pretended to spray it on (this was way before My Big Fat Greek Wedding did it so whenever I see that it reminds me of that) In short I just miss my grandpa a lot especially during the summer💬 - I wish… I was healthy for an extended period of time so I can actually enjoy life like a normal 28 year old💬 - Can we text? Hell yeah! I’m.... not super great at returning texts in a timely manner but yeah if we’re friends (which we totally are) we can text whenever🎥 - Top 5 favorite movies? Pleasantville, Pitch Perfect series, Guardians of the Galaxy, Alto, I Can’t Think Straight📺 - Top 5 favorite TV shows? (I’m going shows overall and not just currently) Leverage, Don’t Trust the B, Underground, Community, Nikita✏ - Random fact about yourself. I don’t have a belly button. I’ve had so many surgeries that I now just have a long eight inch vertical scar right down the center of my stomach instead of a belly button🚀 - Where do you wanna visit? Italy, where my grandparents were from specifically. Or, you know, wherever my friends are from but I think that was too obvious a choice💃 - Can you dance? I’m... not the best dancer but I’m not terrible. I would like lessons though. When I get better I plan on taking swing dance lessons if I can find some locally💏 - Do you love anyone? Yes. @barddog I love them very much. This is a call out answer because I love them a lot and I want them to know that. Even though they do but still🔮 - Do you believe in luck? Luck? I don’t know her📚 - Career goal you want? I just want to do something that I don’t dread going to every day🚔 - Have you ever been arrested? Nope🎫 - Do you have a license? Noooooo. I just have a permit. Barely. I hate driving with every ounce of my being🚼 - Do you have or want kids? Sometimes I think I do but most of the time no thank you I have my dog and that’s my kid and that’s enough for me. I’d be a terrible, selfish parent and no kid deserves that

[storm-tornado-archive]

allanimeisbad Commission 2

(I’m doing flash commission: $5 for 700 words!)

Fandom: Overwatch

Characters: Genji Shimada, Angela “Mercy” Ziegler

Pairings: Gency

Summary: Genji gets Mercy out of the lab with promises of adventure.

“Angela,” Genji whined, craning his neck over her shoulder to look at what she was working on. His visor conveyed no emotion, but it wouldn’t take some 16 years of knowing him to realize he was likely making puppy-dog eyes behind it, between the tone in his voice and his arms crossed against her shoulders as he leaned on her. “You need to take a break.”

“Genji,” she replied flatly. She was in no mood to play around, not with all the work that was to be done. 

“What work is there?” He asked, almost reading her mind. She felt an odd combination of rage and affection at his knowledge of the way she thought. “We’ve been gone for 5 years.” 

“Exactly,” she continued typing. “Winston is very methodical, but even he has his faults. And going through and checking the stock of our medical equipment, as well as what has expired in the past 5 years is apparently one way he has failed. Someone has to do it, and as our only available medic, I figured it would be up to me.”

Genji hummed. “True.” He paused for a solid ten seconds, and she wondered if he was going to leave her alone. He dashed those hopes, however, with a  “But, wouldn’t you like to see some of the base? Make sure it’s all in repair?” 

Angela sighed and shut her laptop. “You’re not going to let this go until I say yes, are you?”

Genji’s smile was audible. “It was how we first encountered each other, was it not?”

“You wound up in a back alley operating room in Hanamura because of a mob mission gone wrong with a bullet in your shoulder around the time I was there, and you flirted with me until we went for supper once the surgery was through.”

“Exactly,” he began, but she cut him off again.

“And then two years later you ended up in the same operating room, on the brink of death. I don’t recall much flirting then.”

He hummed once more, not distressed by the memory much anymore. “But we still went for supper again, once I was healed.” 

Angela reached her arm around and pulled his neck close. “You have good taste.”

Genji’s wisecrack was inevitable, and she vaguely wondered what else he had learned with Zenyatta besides inner peace. “I mean, I sure do love eating you.”

Angela all but guffawed at this. “Genji!”

“So, are you coming exploring with me?” he asked smugly. He nuzzled his head into her cheek, cold metal contrasting with her eternally warm skin. Somewhere inside his mechanical body, she could hear fans whirring and a heart beating.

“Well, I’ve already shut my computer,” she smiled. “Just don’t go too fast.” Before he could make another joke, she continued, “Save that for the bedroom.”

He chuckled of his own accord, a smooth silken sound in contrast to her (by her own admission) dorky laugh. Rather than respond, he took her by the hand, and spun her out of the chair and out of the medical lab.

Together they ran like they were young again, passing through the old dorms, through the lab of a very surprised Winston, out aside the rocks, towards the hangar, and eventually reaching the launch pad.

It was here Genji used his superior strength to pull her onto his back, piggyback style, and scale the side of the entrance to the operations center. They ended their journey atop it, staring out to the sea beyond the rocket pad.

“God, I missed this,” Angela smiled, still giggling a little from the rush of the run. “It’s so beautiful, and peaceful.”

Genji unclipped his mask, letting the sunlight flicker over his scarred face. Each rugged stripe contrasted against the pale skin behind, a vague flicker in his once glowing eyes. Long-faded hair covered the top of his head as he looked with her, a peaceful look playing across his mouth. “Nepal is nice, but Gibraltar is truly amazing.”

Angela moved her hand over his, clutching it tightly. It was his blade arm, the one that was still flesh underneath the gloving. She leaned over and kissed his cheek softly.

“Just like you.”

[chaotic-little-shit]

Rant. Skip if you want.

Ok look, I can understand that I'm asking to roleplay with a character that looks like another, and has an ability similar to another. However, that is where their similarities STOP. Plus, have you seen the two fucking characters?

They may look similar on the surface but I assure you they are not anywhere fucking close to each other. First difference being that Logan has freckles. Second, yes they both have an excoriation disorder but I have one too and I fucking based Logan off myself. We even have the same goddamn name. Logan doesn't only scratch at his neck, either. He's covered in scars that he made himself. So am I. Third, you have NOT seen Logan's full body. I don't have this myself but he's missing an ear and a large part of his arm. Why do you think he keeps his left sleeve down while his right one is up? He doesn't want to show it. Fourth, unless I'm blind, Shigaraki has fucking hands all over his body. Logan doesn't, because he doesn't think hands are a cutting edge fashion statement or reasonable to have on you. And if he tried to save anything from one of his kills it'd be a waste since when he kills, EVERYTHING turns to ash.

Speaking of which.

Logan's ability is Ash, not Decay. Maybe people say ash and dust when reffering to the remains of a fire and whatnot, but they are different things. Plus, their abilities work differently. We can see that Shigaraki's doesnt act like Logan's when he gets shot and he keeps his fucking clothes on.

Logan's ability resides in his hands unless he gets hurt. If he is unable to use part of his hand, instead of requiring all five fingers to work, his ability requires three. If his whole hand is unusable, it spreads to his shoulders, and down to his torso. He could not wear a shirt under these circumstances. If he is hurt again like this, better say bye to any fucking chance of cover because it spreads throughout his body and is incredibly, incredibly annoying.

His ability affects things on a large scale, too, not just small objects. If he put his hand on the side of a building, the wall would become ash within seconds. The building would collapse. He's killed hundreds this way.

On the flip side, it can be bad since it also affects things when he's unconsious. since he cannot use any part of his body when he's out of it, he can come back to absolute chaos. He cannot undergoe surgery, doctors have a hell of a time treating him, and those with recovery quirks have a high chance of dying. I'm gonna be honest it's a miracle he's even survived this long. As long as he isn't hurt, he can have handcuffs and things put on his hands, but nothing that tries to cancel his quirk, because oh boy is that fun to try.

His personality is also different than shigaraki. I've based him off myself, and I just want to let you know that I've spent way too much time analyzing my own personality and that of others, so I know exactly what my traits are. He's incredibly angry all the time. Doesn't work well with others- not because he's a jealous man baby who doesn't know when to keep to boundaries and wants everything for himself, but others get in the way too often so he works alone.

This right here is fucking annoying, too.

yes. he is in the bar, thank you for noticing.

to explain the situation, he's threatening the league members. Although he's fifteen, he knows what he's doing. They asked him to join, and he said no. The members asked him to just think about it, and here we are. He's threatening them, saying that if he hears another word he'd bring the entire building down on top of them. I can tell you right now that even if he is wearing a glove here that it will not offer protection if he makes a fist. That's all he'd have to do to get rid of it.

I can obviously fucking see where it looks like he's based off of Shigaraki fucking Tomura, but I can tell you he is not. I had this character in development since before I began watching bnha. He is made entirely off of my own imagination.

Thank you for reading this, and if you come at me with the backstory whatever the fuck it is saying they're similar that way, I'm going to sock you in the nuts. I'm not even going to bother explaining that. The only way they are similar is through scars on the neck, eye color (sometimes), and hair color. Choke on a walnut.

[the-empathetic-daydreamer]

Plastic Surgery, Tummy Tuck

I was terrified to get plastic surgery and every denial broke my heart. It was almost the same as bypass except that I was approved on the first try. I was scared. I thought I would die on the table (I have low blood pressure) because it was a major surgery and I did have a lot of health problems and I was four the last time I had a major surgery. I was told that the tummy tuck would be a more painful surgery but not only did the staff assure me that they would fight every denial with me, but the hospital staff was accommodating and genuinely kind. They assured me that when I woke up I wouldn’t be in pain and I wasn’t. They did their best to make me comfortable during my overnight stay.Â

I knew what I wanted and it was that surgery. I was afraid people would tell me that a ‘tummy tuck’ was me taking yet another easy way out. They couldn’t be more wrong. My skin was like a pancake (it was skin vs. fat… something that I couldn’t lose on my own) that hung past my genitals and bunched up so much I started to get yeast infections in my belly button. In part it was because I was irritating it on purpose, including not showering. Other times, no – the infections just appeared on its own. The office and doctor fought each denial and we did exactly as the insurance asked. I gave myself a nasty infection using a rough cleaning pad and I did what he said about talking to my family doctor. I had her put about six or more different reasons in my file as to how the skin interfered with my life. By this time it had now gotten so bad that I had to lift the apron of skin to use the bathroom and I was leaking urine, incontinence would now be another plight to deal with. I focused more and more on the ways that the skin made my life difficult or miserable. It took over a year just as the doctor predicted and it taught me patience. Don’t give up they told me. My case was severe enough that the doctor really wanted it gone. He felt it was a huge health risk, no pun intended. And so I trusted them and metaphorically held their hand as they walked me through each step. The more weight I lost as we waited for approval made the skin even worse. I could bunch it up almost didn’t a ball shape and in the tub it seemed like it would float away.Â

To say the least it was embarrassing not only to fold it up and shove the skin in my pants, but it was also embarrassing to even look in the mirror. I tried to look above the skin to see the beauty that was within me, but the moment I looked down I saw it: I saw all the hanging skin drooping down my body. When I was pregnant with my son I took an underwear and bra only shot because I wanted to remind myself not only of how horrible I looked but to cease wanting another child. I looked miserable and disgusting. It was like I was carrying two separate babies. On was on top and the other on my bottom stomach. I always said that I had two stomachs even before that. Technically inside I did because of the gastric bypass, but on the outside I did as well. There was that much hanging skin. Yes, that much. Â

When I had my initial consultation with the plastic surgeon and his staff I was more than embarrassed. I sat in the exam chair with a horrified look on my face, my knees pulled up to my chest with my arms wrapped tightly around them. They talked to me first and then there were pictures. I was handed a package. Inside it contained a brand new pair of size large black underwear. If you ask me it was more like a thong. “Put these on,” they instructed me as they left the room. And I did. They fit, sort of. My skin swallowed them whole. I had to pull my skin out of them for photos, but regardless it seeped out the sides of the underwear. They wanted the best pictures possible for the insurance company so I had to bear all. It was almost pointless for me to even be wearing the underwear because the only privacy I had with them was covering my genitals up. Pointless I say, because I was already so embarrassed that it didn’t matter what was showing anymore. Â

They had me turn on all sides except my rear. Bending over was most likely the worst position because it hung over in midair, just hung. I felt sick to my stomach and hated my body that much more. I closed my eyes in every picture and was relieved that my face would not be in the photos. That was the last thing I would ever want. My identity was not compromised to sway any decisions or to see how miserable and ugly I was. It didn’t matter that the scale said 165 (at that time), I felt as if I still tipped the scale at 300 pounds. Â

And so my journey began… again. I was grateful for the bypass and a second chance to live but there was something in me telling myself that I wanted more. I wanted the skin gone and I would do nearly anything to get my surgery. Things don’t always work out as planned but after over a year of meeting requirements and demands, the unthinkable happened. They approved me. I thought for sure that it would be another denial because they sat on my file for two months before we got an answer. Normally it only took two weeks for them to look at the information and deny me. I was so afraid to get my hopes up but logically speaking, the longer they took meant they were considering letting me have the abdomenioplasty. Â

There was always some reason the insurance would deny my claim and I jumped through hoops to please them. There was not enough of a record of current weights and so I did six months of weight checks with my family doctor. My weight wasn’t stable before I had my inflamed gallbladder out… more weight checks. I didn’t have enough yeast or skin infections; ok, when I did get them I irritated them on purpose and once made myself get infected by scarring my skin and scratching at it with a scotch pad. Not my brightest idea but I do believe it helped me ‘pass the test.” I did what I had to do. My counselor can’t believe that they didn’t say anything to me about my lack of hygiene and infections. Nope, not a word… it never occurred to me that it was even a possibility. Â

I also had to prove or at least document the ways the skin interfered with my life. I felt silly having the family doctor put it in my chart but plastics insisted. So I took note. I had to lift my apron of skin up to wipe after going to the bathroom, and sometimes squeeze it to get all the urine out so that I wouldn’t leak. The skin itched and it was impossible to keep my belly button clean because the skin folded on top of it and created a perfect environment for yeast to develop. I don’t recall everything that I told her because I didn’t save the list and it’s not something I want to remember anyways. The skin hung past my genitals. I felt judged and mocked. I knew people were staring at me and I was paranoid. In the tub it literally looked like the skin would float away. There most definitely was no shortage of complaints that I could come up with about having the skin. I looked pregnant but I also looked fat. At 135 pounds I don’t see how anyone could see themselves as fat but I did. And that’s just it; I wasn’t. Â

I was ecstatic the day the office called to tell me I had been approved for the surgery. I had hoped and dreamt of this day but I was scared too. I heard it was the most painful surgery of all. It was another surgery that was major. Not just major, but complex and terrifying. In the end I looked like a gutted fish. I didn’t see my incisions until my first post-op appointment a week later because they had it padded and had this weird medical kind of tape that was clear and it covered my entire abdomen. When I looked down after everything was off I couldn’t believe my eyes. It looked horrifying. I immediately whined that I should not have looked. I didn’t feel regret but I did wonder what I did to myself. Â

I did all my research ahead of time and was prepared. Ok, most pain of my life: check. Cane for support when standing and getting up in the first few weeks: check. Be ready for emotions all over the place: check. Gauze, medical supplies, and shots to prevent blood clots: eventually checked. Pajamas, larger underwear, and comfortable clothes: check. Pain medication: check, and double check. Â

But it wasn’t what I expected. I was in pain but the pain medication I was given during my overnight stay was enough to make me comfortable most of the time. I had to stay on them for the pills though. My day of discharge I was feeling much better and several hours passed between medication doses. It was mostly out of pity because it was taking so long to get everything arranged for me to leave and the nurse didn’t want me to be in pain while I waited and on the trip home. Some of the nurses were amazing and kind, while others were a waste of space. I took my medication willingly and I kept waiting for those emotions to overtake me and send me on a wild roller coaster ride but they never did. I got frustrated and I was concerned about complications but not once did I think it was a mistake or not worth it. In the hospital it was both scary and amusing that my blood pressure was low. Even my plastic surgeon knew that it typically ran low but the nurses were freaking out because the bottom number had dropped to 47 at one point and I was still alive. Even though the probability was high for my rate of complications, the only one I had was an allergy to my antibiotic cream (itching). Â

My doctor and assistant called me “the poster child” and my face lit up in smiles. Once again I had defied the odds and here I was with a new stomach to prove to the world that not only do dreams come true, but I myself was a miracle. I wasn’t that orphan or unplanned pregnancy; I wasn’t worthless and I did work hard to get to where I was today… I was worth it and the mirror would show me how much of an inspiration I was yet again. I. did. It. With the skin no longer a piece of my life, I could rest easy and not fight mental battles with my reflection in the mirror.   Â

I can’t actually say that I had no regrets, that would be lying but I didn’t have enough to trouble me. My incisions were massive and I knew to expect some of it but had no idea that taking all of the skin would mean that the scar would go around half of my sides as well. That was something that was difficult for me to deal with. The painful part was the drains that were sutured at the top of my vaginal area. I had to keep them in for almost three weeks to be sure all of the drainage was taken care of and I didn’t get an infection. I would classify my regret as annoyance rather than sadness that I had “destroyed” my body. I was giving myself a second chance, ok third now by this point. Once the incisions began to clear up and the dried blood was off, I felt even better. Once the binder I was forced to wear was taken off I could see my shape. As time went on I had to keep tightening it because it was too large and I was losing inches. It itched and made me cranky but the support it gave my wounds made me willing to wear it for as long as possible. By the end of the first month I was feeling amazing, and I wanted to show off my scar to the world. Anyone who asked, or even didn’t, would gladly get to see the show…Â

 I was proud of my surgeon and proud of myself. When he greeted me at my bedside he told me that he thought I would be happy with the results and he couldn’t have been more right. For the first time in my life I felt I deserved that happiness. The world around me was chaos and misery but I loved me. It wasn’t just my body but my mind was clear to see my own worth and both inner and outer beauty. I could be struggling with the world but I was happy with who I was. I got back into writing and I took the world by storm. I was happy and I deserved every bit of it.