#I’m about to have surgery so wish me luck

[anthonysbabygirl]

.

[lovelyisadora]

wish me luck I have a meeting with my advisor in like 20 min

[pathologicalreid]

heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕

If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)

Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)

three's a family | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think

“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.

Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”

Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.

Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.

You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.

Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.

Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.

You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”

Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?

Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.

As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”

Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.

“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.

Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.

You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”

He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”

“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.

Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”

Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”

Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”

While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.

“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.

Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”

Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.

He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.

“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.

In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.

Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”

Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”

“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”

You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”

For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.

Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.

“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.

He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."

You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.

By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.

Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.

“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.

You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.

“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.

Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.

You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”

Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.

At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.

With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.

You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.

Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”

Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”

When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.

He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.

“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.

As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”

Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“

“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.

Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”

Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”

He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”

Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 

You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.

When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.

Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.

Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.

“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”

Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”

In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”

You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”

He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”

Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”

“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.

You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.

The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.

Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.

Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.

According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.

Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”

“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.

Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.

The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”

Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.

Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.

The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.

“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.

Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.

Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.

“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”

[himbochub]

little update here for anyone who doesn’t follow me on twitter: i haven’t been posting as much bc im finally in the process of getting top surgery!!

unfortunately living in the midwest there are not a lot of options for surgeons who don’t have BMI restrictions, so i do have to lose some weight to ultimately get approved. i’m in the process of working out a lot so i can just get everything over with 🫡 im not thrilled about having to lose weight but it is what it is. if any other trans gainers have experience with top surgery as a plus sized person, experience w gaining after top surgery, having to lose weight for it and then regaining after or really just want to chat abt it in general + share any anecdotes about their experience at all, gaining or not, i’m definitely open & would really appreciate it! im struggling to find resources of fat trans guys talking about their experiences with top surgery.

i’m definitely planning on regaining all my weight and then some after surgery, & i’ll probably continue to post here and there, but being in the process of having to lose weight is definitely a bit of a turnoff for me so i probably won’t post many pics 💔

my consult is scheduled for the beginning of december if i can meet all of my goals by that time (i also have to quit smoking nicotine 😖) so wish me luck! if everything goes to plan and i do get approved, im hoping to get the surgery sometime next spring 😗‼️

[luminouslywriting]

Carley🥹 I’m so sorry to hear about your surgery and I’m wishing you the best of luck! I know how worrying it can be, I’m here for you 🫶 may I pls request some John Egan headcannons with a reader who has anxiety…mine has been horrific lately I don’t get it 😭 no problem if not! Thank you 🫶

Darling girl, I am so sorry that your anxiety has been so horrible lately. I tried to get this done so they will cheer you up :) I completely understand! I am here for you as well! And thank you for wishing me the best with my upcoming surgery! Feel free to keep sending me asks and requests :) I love the spam!

More under the cut and cut for length!

-Literally, Bucky Egan is the most tender and gentle man when it comes to anxiety

-He understands better than most the importance of mental health and what it means to need to take care of yourself

-We know that he's a very attentive friend and someone who cares deeply. I picture him as an empath and he's very in tune with your physical cues and what signs you might have of being anxious

-If a lot of your signs of anxiety manifest physically, whether it be through a nervous tick or something like stress hives (which I myself get), he's ON TOP of things

-He's picking up on it before you even realize he was paying attention and he's absolutely the type to take your hand in his and press the most tender of kisses to it

-Loves to cuddle the hell out of you if it's social anxiety related

-If you're overwhelmed and just need a minute, he's super attentive to that.

-Would 10/10 guide you out of a room with his hand on the small of your back and murmuring sweet nothings and reassurances in your ear

-Knows the signs for a panic attack and knows exactly how to ground you—whether it be through asking you questions, holding you to him gently, singing in your ear, distracting you with all sorts of things or stories, etc.

-Is your biggest hype man in the world

-Will be your cheerleader and encourage you in all of the things that you want to do

-But also knows that if you don't want to do something, then you shouldn't have to

"You know, you don't have to do this if you don't want to. I'm gonna be by your side no matter what."

-Loves dancing slowly with you to try and calm you down

-Will practice self-care with you if you just need some time to detox from everything

-And if that means just laying together in total silence for hours on end, then he can do that too.

-Loves holding your hand whenever you're together, and especially if you're anxious

-Is always there for you the minute that you need him

-Will talk through any anxieties you have and try to make things seem better for you

-If he's away, then nightly phone calls where he murmurs sweet nothings, promises, and lullabies to you is definitely a thing

-I hope this makes you feel better sweetheart :)

[symptomsofdeceit]

Hello!

This isn’t exactly a question about your game, so hopefully it’s okay to ask you here - feel free to delete this if you’d like! I saw in your bio that you work in vascular surgery at only 23 - first of all, that’s incredible! I didn’t even realize it was possible to enter the medical/surgical field in any way that young. My question kind of relates to this: as someone who wants to get into medicine and healthcare, I’m wondering how you’ve started so young and/or if you have any advice on how to succeed in school/get a job in the industry early on? Thank you so much for your time and have a lovely day :)

You’re good, it’s totally okay! I enjoy my work and talking about it. I’ll put my answer under a cut so people who are just here for game stuff can easily skip it

There are a lot of options in the medical field!! Advice really depends on what you want to do. I’ve only experienced one side of it, so I’m not sure if anything I say would be relevant to what you’re wanting to do. I hope this is at least a little helpful though, and I’m wishing you the best of luck with it!! 🍀🍀✨✨

I’m a vascular interventional radiologic technologist. Every hospital is different, and people with that job title often work in a cardiac cath lab or interventional radiology. I’ve talked about the types of operations I help perform here!

Here it requires 4 years of university with a lot of clinical hours and 2 registry exams at the end to get certified / have proper credentials.

As a student I spent a lot of my clinical hours in the vascular surgery department. I was always told to treat your clinical shifts like an interview! I knew I wanted to work here, so I talked to the manager over the department and actually got hired a few months before I graduated (with the condition of me successfully graduating + passing my exams to get credentials). Most medical programs should have some type of clinical hour requirements, so my biggest advice is to try to spend that time in the department you’re passionate about + try to show that you’re someone worth hiring while you’re a student! A couple of my classmates got hired for cath lab & IR before graduating too.

There are also so many different types of jobs in the medical field!! A lot of people outside of the field have never heard of my position, or they’re only aware of it in interventional radiology. My other suggestion is to make sure you know what you want to do & look at all options! There are many cool positions that would allow you to start working earlier in life :)

I hope this was helpful in some way, and again I’m wishing you the best!!

[look-at-the-soul]

Straight to the heart

Tommy Shelby x reader (Nurse)

After spending day and night for two weeks with nurses in the house while taking care of my grandma I couldn’t stop this idea running around my head.. this is set around S3E6… sending love and blessing to all the medical staff out there! Edit: Granny is doing so much better now, she can’t wait to go out already lol and now she says she misses us being with her all the time 🥺

Please note I’m not related to the health department, just what I read/watch.

Gif credit to @thesoldiersminute thank you for always keep up with my ideas!!! ☺️

Walking into the intensive care unit, Y/N was asked to immediately attend a new patient who arrived recently, she would only cover the night shift. He had surgery a few days ago and the doctors didn’t know yet how his body would react.

Y/N felt bad for the poor man, he was severely beaten, the damage in his brain still unknown, he was under high doses of medication. Most of his levels were out of proportion.

Right there he looked so helpless, vulnerable even. And even though the bruises and lightly swollen skin, she could see he owned some kind of privileged looks; thick lashes fanning over his cheeks, sharp cheekbones made him look like he was sculpted by a generous Greek God. If it wasn’t for the metal helmet on his head, she would swear he was only sleeping.

Sighting, she wrote down his records, adjusted his medication and left to attend her next patient. For the rest of the day, Y/N repeated the same actions without anything extraordinary or out of normal happening.

“Good luck on the night shift, Y/N” Jackie wished as she picked up her belongings.

“Why would I need luck?”

“You don’t know about that man at the 32?” Jackie squinted her eyes at her colleague.

Y/N shook her head as she organized the paperwork of the day. How would she know? She barely knew this area of the hospital. She wanted to stay out of any gossip or saying that was going around, but Jackie still decided to share the piece of information she heard in the hall. Letting Y/N know he was the infamous gánster from Birmingham known for cutting people’s eyes.

“His sister said he’s a war hero, but I know he’s a criminal, he deserves it.” Shaking her head she added; “his family requested a private room.”

But to Y/N all patients deserved to be treated equally, not taking into consideration their past, mistakes or anything else.

“Have a safe walk back home.” Y/N wished Jackie, hoping the other nurse would leave soon so she could resume the night visits to every patient, she had a long night ahead, starting with a young boy who had an accident at one of the factories.

Walking into Mr. Shelby’s bed close to midnight, Y/N noticed him sweating, shaking a little. Touching his forehead, she realized that he had a high fever. Rushing back to her unit, she grabbed towels and a bowl that she then filled with water.

Checking on his temperature, the thermometer showed 40ºC, so without wasting any more time, Y/N proceeded to provide medication to bring down his temperature. With a damp cloth, she pressed his neck, chest and forehead.

He was mumbling something she couldn’t understand, it was probably something that didn’t make sense, or another language she didn’t know… but as she moved to wet the washcloth one more time, his words were clear;

“Don’t leave me.” His hands got tense. “I need you.”

His frown grew deeper and when he opened his eyes abruptly, one of his hands accidentally hit Y/N above her right eye.

Y/N removed the covers from his body, as well as the upper part of the hospital gown.

Pressing the wet cloth against his hot skin Y/N got lost in the freckles on his chest, it reminded her of the previous night full of shining stars.

“Mr. Shelby, you’re alright, take a deep breath for me.” His breathing was erratic, his gaze lost, nothing he was saying made sense, he was talking about saving his mother and a Prussian boy, he then mentioned the name Charlie. “You’re at the hospital Mr. Shelby, take it easy.”

As Tommy looked around, he took in his surroundings, the pale skin of the nurse attending him contrasted deeply with the small crimson river of blood coming out from her eyebrow.

“There you go, that’s it, deep breaths.” Y/N smiled relieved that the fever was going down. Checking his eyes, his reflections seemed to be perfect, as well as the rest of his vitals. He tried to touch the metal around his head, but Y/N moved gently his hand down.

She helped the man to sit up slowly in the bed and after adjusting the pillow in his back, she offered him some water, to help his system fight the temperature.

“Are you feeling better?” Y/N asked after a few more minutes.

Tommy nodded, still altered by the mixed nightmare he just saw, his mother asking for help, she was dangerously close to the river and when he tried to grab her arm to move her away, he saw Charlie drowning, as he was about to save his son, the Prussian boy appeared from nowhere and sent him to the ground.

“It’s late, you might want to have some rest.” Y/N announced gently changing the pillow since it was soaked.

“I can’t go back to sleep.” He murmured after a few seconds. “My head ‘s pounding.”

“I can give you something for the pain.” But his hand stopped Y/N’s intentions to walk away. Gently and in a caressing motion, she placed his hand between hers, one on top and one under. “Is going to be alright.”

“Can you stay here? With me?”

And with that Y/N was able to see the bluest eyes she had ever crossed paths with, so transparent, so full of fear, so vulnerable. He locked his eyes with her and she got lost in a deep ocean, soft waves crashing against her.

So broken.

Empty even.

In the war she had seen endless horrors, men without a leg or an arm, people who lost their eyes, but nothing compared to what Y/N saw in this man’s eyes.

“Right, just let me call the doctor and I’ll stay here for a little longer, all my other patients are sleeping.” Y/N took the empty chair resting close to the door and brought it closer to the bed.

“Lucky they can.”

Y/N chuckled and in the process, she found the ghost of a smirk in his lips.

“I could give you something to sleep.”

“Oh, so you don’t have to deal with me?”

Y/N looks at him scandalized. “No, I meant it so you can rest.”

“That’s for the weak.” Tommy stated taking a deep breath.

“Are you sure you don’t want something for the pain?” Y/N tried again suppressing a yawn.

“I’ve the heart of a horse.” Tommy winced as her cold hand came to circle his wrist, she looked at her watch and then wrote down something in a chart. She then checked again his temperature. “How long have you been a nurse?”

Her features turned into a bittersweet expression.

“I volunteered as a nurse during the war, to be close to my husband.”

Tommy fixed his gaze on her. “The Somme?”

Y/N nodded. “Blackwoods, but he never came back.”

“Sorry for your loss.” Tommy offered Y/N his handkerchief, which she found on top of the cabinet with the rest of his clothes.

“Thank you, I hear you’re a hero.”

Tommy chuckled tilting his head.

“That’s overrated, I saw more men dying than I saved. Now you, on the other hand are a real hero, Miss?”

“Y/N Y/LN.” She smiled gently.

“Pleased to meet you, Thomas Shelby.” He extended his hand with a groan.

“How did you end up here with an injury like that?”

“I stumbled.”

Y/N didn’t believe that for a second, but she was glad to see that even in a situation like that, he felt like joking, it was a good sign.

“The door must’ve been heavy.” She joked, immediately regretting her own words. ”Sorry.”

“Bad choices brought me here.” Tommy admitted, his hands instinctively looking for a cigarette. “Can I have a smoke?”

Y/N stood up to take a cigarette and light it for him. “Hopefully you won’t make those again, you were very lucky this time.”

“You’d be surprised, sometimes I think trouble simply enjoys following me around.”

“You’re like a magnet then.”

She then decided to stay silent as she saw him with his eyelids closed, maybe tiredness took him finally in, that would be good, because then she would be able to close her eyes momentarily and…

“Has anyone came…?”

His deep voice pulled her from snoozing. Y/N nodded and informed him that his sister visited the previous day. And his aunt the day he had the surgery.

“Do you want me to let someone know?”

Tommy shook his head at first, closing his eyes. Who would give a damn about him?

“Jeremiah, Jimmy he’s a preacher.” He whispered after a few minutes.

“I know him, we’ve worked together helping people in need.”

Why that didn’t surprise him?

“That tells me I’m in good hands.” He ran his cigarette over his lower lip, while a light shade of pink covered her cheeks and neck.

“Thank you for helping me keep my eyes open.”

Tommy then winked. “Anytime love, you know where to find me.”

Y/N told him she would get him a new gown and take a quick look at the other patients, but she would be back before he could realize she was gone. In her absence, a doctor entered and after evaluating the information in his chart, asked a few insignificant questions and left him alone. Tommy wondered if she would be back soon.

“How was your round?” Tommy asked eyeing her by the corner of his eye.

“Fine, most patients are fast asleep except for one.”

“Sorry to keep you up, it gets boring here.”

Y/N’s eyes sparkled. “What are you talking about? The fun has just begun, you need to stay for a few months.”

But Tommy being Tommy, he had another ideas.

“I’ll be out of here this week.” He stated firmly.

They stayed in a comfortable silence, until Tommy saw the nurse leaning forwards, at the end of his bed, close to his feet, within seconds, he realized her breathing changed and she was fast asleep, forehead resting on one arm, at some point, she turned her head to the side, so her features were facing him, and he finally noticed the mole close to her lips…

The following morning, Jeremiah entered the hospital room, a beaming smile on his face, Tommy motioned him to be quiet, pointing at the sleepy nurse.

The poor thing worked the previous night taking care of a patient at home, then her regular shift at ER and finally she was asked to cover the intensive care unit as well.

Looking at the feet of his bed, Y/N was peacefully sleeping in an uncomfortable position that would probably hurt her neck and back, she assured him over five times she wasn’t tired first, then that she didn’t need a pillow, she wasn’t going to fall asleep, but in the end, her body claimed some rest. Her lips were partially open, her features relaxed, she exuded calmness through every pore.

A peace he would kill for.

“Looking good Tom.” Jeremiah whispered, walking around the bed, to the opposite side were the nurse was sleeping.

“Now everyone will shave the side of their head too.” Tommy joked.

Before Y/N fell asleep, she got her pocket mirror, helping Tommy to take a look, it disgusted him to see the helmet, and the dark circles under his eyes, paler than he usually was, but Y/N assured him, nothing of that mattered, he was alive.

But Jeremiah couldn’t hold back the laugh at Tommy’s comment, and Y/N woke up.

“I’m so sorry I fell asleep!” Y/N quickly apologized and walked out from the room, returning a few minutes later after a quick trip to the bathroom to refresh herself and as she walked over to the bed to check one more time for Mr. Shelby’s vitals, she overheard a conversation that concerned her.

“Jimmy, I need you to bring me some papers, the keys to the first drawer are on-”

“Mr. Shelby you can’t work right now.” Y/N looked between her patient and his friend, her whole body protesting for sleeping in that position.“You need bed rest, physical therapy and nothing that stresses you.”

Tommy chuckled and his head hurt from the effort.

“I’m sure Polly can manage for a while, you need to follow her orders.” Jeremiah stated before touching Tommy in the arm, followed by a wink. “He’s a bit stubborn, just so you to know.”

He thanked then Y/N for taking care of his friend and left them after that.

“I didn’t mean to sound bossy, sorry Mr. Shelby.”

“Call me Tommy, please.” Making an effort to look at her, he found a deep frown. “What’s the matter?”

“The doctor prescribed Morphine to your own judgment?”

“It’s for the pain.”

She knew this kind of high dosis could represent a big threat for the patients, it should be administered by someone who knew what they were doing, but it wasn’t her place to discuss that, so she only shook her head.

“Thank you, for not letting my nightmares hunt me last night.” Tommy whispered. “And sorry for that.” He then pointed out to the now clear cut on her eyebrow.

Y/N smiled brushing it off and left to do a quick check on her patients. Later, when she returned, she found Tommy sleeping, and just like he did the previous night, she let him sleep, hoping the nightmares would leave him alone.

***

When Tommy woke up again, he didn’t found Y/N back, no, there was a rude and grumpy, old nun making noise, disturbing the small peace he was able to reach.

After a heated argument, Tommy didn’t hesitate to point the revolver at her, he just wanted to scare her though, in that condition he wouldn’t be able to shoot properly, but it worked, because she mumbled he would be burned in hell and left. A doctor came in shortly, sweating, worried he would kill him there.

“Where’s Y/N?” Tommy asked cleaning his weapon with the sheet covering his lap.

“She has the day off, until tonight, she covers the ER Night Shift.” His apple bobbed up and down. “I’ll ask the nurse to check on you.”

“I don’t want anyone but Y/N.” Tommy resisted the urgent feeling to press his forehead, the headache was unbearable.

“She attends the emergency un-”

“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, Doc… Y/N is from now on my personal nurse.” He removed the security button of his gun. Feeling dizzy, he could see the doctor moving towards the door.

The intensive care unit looked oddly quiet that night, she shouldn’t be here without permission but there was no one to ask around, so she’d only stay for a couple of minutes and go to work at the other side of the building.

“Ah, I see you’re awake now Mr. Shelby, I brought you some tea that will help you with the pain, is strong so I added some milk and sugar.” Y/N smiled.

But the smile soon was followed by a shock, when the Director informed her she would now work as private nurse for Mr. Shelby, but she didn’t even try to gainsay against the new instructions, she just asked a few minutes to move her belongings over the intensive care unit.

“I hope you understand, the other nurse didn’t think I was a nice patient.”

Y/N couldn’t help but roll her eyes at him. “You pointed a gun at her, Tommy.”

“Yeah, yeah, she mentioned I was going to hell.” He retrieved the cigarette case and match from under the blanket, motioning for her to light it for him.

“How are you feeling?” She noticed the helmet was gone, and he could move freely now, slow but better.

“Like shit.”

Y/N looked at the cigarette between her fingers, Tommy cleared her she could smoke in her shift now. “Last night, when you had that nightmare… you mentioned someone… Charlie.”

Tommy ran his tongue over his lips, blinking at the thought of his son.

“I was trying to save him, he’s my son, now it’s just the two of us… his mother passed away.”

The air abandoned her lungs, her heart sank down, the worst pain this man was going through wasn’t for the head injuries, the emotional felt deeper.

“Everything I do, is for him, ‘cause I don’t want him to suffer what I went through.” He admitted.

Tommy threw the covers to the side, determination in his eyes.

Scandalized, Y/N rushed to his side, “what are you doing?!”

“I can’t stay in bed, have things to do.”

But her hands on his chest, held him firmly.

“You need to take it easy, it takes time to heal and recover.” Shaking her head, Y/N covered him again. “You hired me to be your nurse, and as such you’ll have to follow my orders.”

With an evident groan, Tommy allowed her to adjust his pillow, taking the revolver in the process.

“And I’m keeping this somewhere safe.”

“Fucking hell.” He scoffed.

***

Of course, he wasn’t out in a week like he said, Tommy needed medical attention and professional equipment to monitor his progress, the doctors didn’t even care he was using his pipe when the pain was too much.

During the following days, Y/N stayed by Tommy’s hospital bed day and night, helping him to stand up once the doctor cleared him out to walk around, she read out loud endless books and news to him, somehow she was his eyes and ears.

She earned completely his trust, he talked to her about things he didn’t dare to say to anyone else. And never complained about how difficult and headache he was as her patient, he lost all his dignity when she had to clean him up in the beginning when he couldn’t move, and kept his nightmares at bay some nights.

Staring into the ceiling, he didn’t even remember what day it was, memories were a bit blurry, but he had enough time to plan, to think, to realize things.

In the loneliness of those cold walls, it was all silent. Just him and his thoughts.

Where was his family? He had gave them all; everything they needed, everything they wanted… money, stability, power, luxuries, properties.

And they had only be around a few times for short and sporadic visits.

No one offered to spend the night with him, just in case he needed something during the night. All he heard was excuses to leave as soon as possible. They had other things to do.

The obscene amount of money he spent with whores to warm his bed for a moment and for what? They wouldn’t even dare to look a man ill in a hospital bed. They were empty, it was nothing more than a chore for them.

Not a single whore was appealing enough the effort now.

Deep down, he felt disappointed.

And heartbroken. If he ever had a heart.

All of the people he helped down the road, weren’t able to pay him a ten fucking minutes visit.

A knock on the door pulled Tommy away from his thoughts.

Y/N entered brightening not only the room, but his life as well.

“Good morning sleepyhead.” She chirped.

“You kept snorting, I had to recover my sleep-hours.” He lied.

“I did not.” Her voice faked indignation towards his words, touching his arm playfully with the package of the gauze.

“Why do you keep sleeping in the chair, when I asked them to bring in a couch for you?” He smirked accepting the biscuits she made for him.

“Trust me, if I take the couch, you’ll never wake me up.”

As she leaned to clean the spot of his surgery, Tommy turned his head and stared into her beautiful eyes, straight to her heart and soul. Wondering if she would allow him to kiss her, almost asking for permission. His hand came to rest to the side of her head, fingers intertwining in her hair… closing his eyes, he let his lips fan over hers, barely touching, teasing, burning and waking up every nerve in her body.

And when their mouths finally collided, time stopped and the fucking world could’ve exploded and they wouldn’t have noticed.

“Just what the doctor ordered.” The corner of his lips turned upwards and small lines formed around his blue eyes as he pulled in his nurse for another kiss.

“Tommy…” she whispered trying to catch her breath, easier than trying to ask her heartbeat to normalize.

“Tell me this isn’t a one side feeling?”

The feeling of his hands cupping her face close to his, made ir harder to shook her head. “No, it’s not that… is just that this isn’t professional. I’m your nurse.”

“Perfect, you’re fired then.” He joked, pulling her down for another kiss.

He would be forever grateful with her for those days when she was all the company he got, for the long talks, and making his most miserable time feel lighter. For encouraging him to walk again and do his exercises.

For being there for him.

He never imagined tragedy would take him to the place where he would meet love and compassion in the same person. He would get his head smashed a hundred more times just to be with her.

After getting more kisses, because he swore the doctor prescribed them, Tommy gave her the envelope with her payment and she almost fainted she saw it. It was more money than she could expect to see in months of working non stop.

“This is too much, I can’t accept it.”

“Y/N you stayed with me when I needed it the most, didn’t ask questions… no amount of money could ever really pay what you gave me.”

He was determined to go back home, promised the doctors he would take it easy and after watching his health improvement, he was discharged earlier than expected. But of course he was planning to have someone taking care of him.

***

Y/N couldn’t believe this was the correct address she was given. Taking a double look at the mansion before her, she swallowed hard.

But the address written on the paper Tommy gave her, was correct. After finishing her shift at the Hospital that day, she would be joining him at home.

Knocking on the heavy door, Y/N waited smoothing her uniform a petite woman in a black and white uniform opened the door. The look the woman gave her up and down made Y/N feel uneasy, worried there was something wrong with her.

“Mr. Shelby hired me to.-”

“I know who he is, I don’t understand why they sent someone lik-” shaking her head, she moved to the side as Polly approached them.

“Thank you so much for showing up earlier, he has been asking for you, I’m Polly.” She gave the nurse a candid smile and looking then at the maid, she added; “Mary please prepare her something to eat.”

“That won’t be necessary Mrs. Gray, I had breakfast after finishing my shift, but thank you.”

Polly guided her around the house, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Thank you for taking care of our Tom all of this time…” Showing her where was the kitchen, the bathroom, everything she might need.

“Is alright, don’t worry about that.”

“I’ve work to do, but I’ll give you a phone number where you can find me if anything urgent comes up, there’s also a driver and a car outside in case you need to use it.” They both walked a long hall, the house was decorated immediately. “My nephew has been talking about you.” She gave the nurse a knowing look. “Something changed, but not something physical, something inside, you gave him his heart back.”

As Polly opened the door to Tommy’s bedroom, Y/N found him playing with his son in bed, bare chest moving the child up and down in the air, his small giggles echoed through the room.

The image didn’t only made its way through her eyes, it went straight to the heart.

*******

And sorry it got long! I couldn’t stop writing for these two… your feedback is always highly appreciated and treasured ♥️ it means the world to me! Thank you for reading.

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @gypsy-girl-08 @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @strayrockette @the-forest-witchh @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @zablife @peakyscillian @moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @ange-thoughts @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @cilliansangel @rangerelik

[obsolescent]

Hey!! Next one week I’m getting braces and as someone who has very strong anxiety this has been getting me so much stress and making me feel like complete crap. Could you please write a ghost x reader (gn since I’ve read that’s what you use:) ) trying to help reader just relax or feel better. Something like that would be nice. Love you work, you are amazing take care 🩷

Don't you Fret

Author’s Note: Hi! This is so sweet. This will make my first Ghost x reader piece! I hope you enjoy it and I hope it’s what you were looking for! Also I left this ambiguous on what the procedure is, so if any of you are worried about any kind of upcoming procedure I hope this eases your worries some ♡ Good luck by the way!! You’ll do great :)

Content Warnings: Gender neutral language used, fluff, Simon trying to understand southern slang lol

You stare down at the paperwork in front of you. The contract, consent forms, guidelines, and instructions on what to do in preparation for your procedure next week lay scattered across the coffee table. Your leg is bouncing a mile a minute while you chew on your nail, the reality of it starting to set in. 

To say that you’re an anxious person…Well yeah, you are. It’s even worse when it comes to medical procedures. This ain’t even that extensive of one, but reading the step-by-step process of what will happen, how long it’ll take, and the aftercare is making you pretty antsy. “Ugh,” you groaned, putting your face into your hands.

“You alright, love?” You jumped, twisting around to find Simon standing behind you. “Good lord, felt like my soul left my body,” You gasped out. He snickered, walking around the front of the couch to sit beside you.

He grabs your hand and begins stroking it, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin, helping to ease some of your nerves. He glances at the papers laying across the surface in front of you two and asks, “This what’s gotten you on edge?” “An understatement,” You grumbled, “More nervous than a long tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”

He stared at you for a moment, face blank, before those blond brows of his started to furrow, brown eyes narrowing. You can almost see the equations floating around his head as he tries to decipher the phrase. “Fucking hell. English, please. Or at least slow down, can’t understand with you talking so fast.” 

“I’m very fucking nervous, alright?” You mock back, a poor attempt at an English accent. He huffs at that, before pulling you into an embrace. “Cheeky,” He muttered into your hair, giving a kiss to your head. You sighed, sinking into his warmth.

You’re so glad to have him home with you at this moment. The two of you always appreciate your time together, but you more so now than usual, with how worried you’ve been.

“Anythin’ I can do to help ease your mind?” He asks, rubbing soothing patterns into your back. You hum, nuzzling your face into his neck, before saying, “Not sure. I feel like crap right now, upset with myself for being so upset. It’s annoying! I wish things like this didn’t bother me, that I could be more like you. It seems like nothing phases you, you’re always so cool and collected.” You sighed, fiddling with the hem on his sweatshirt’s sleeve.

“It’s not like I’m having extensive surgery that’ll have me under for hours!" You exclaimed, making exaggerated hand gestures while speaking. Simon grunts in agreement, “Can’t help what your brain is in shambles over, love.” You sighed again, pulling away to look up at him. 

“Darling,” He said, voice gravelly. He cups your face in both hands. You look into his eyes, finding adoration and warmth. You feel a tingle in your nose, a sign you’re about to start crying. Scrunching your face up, you will the tears away, unsuccessfully. You start to sob, your hands coming up to cover your face. “None of that now,” He says, pulling your hands away, peppering kisses across your tear stained cheeks. 

“I-I’m sorry,” You choked out, “I feel pl-plumb stup–” Before you can finish your sentence, Simon is picking you up in his arms. You squealed, latching onto his shoulders as he made his way to your bedroom. He opens the door, walks toward the bed and drops you onto the mattress before plopping himself down beside you. He turns you towards him, bringing you into his warm embrace once again.

“Now then. We’ll stay here as long as we need, yeah? Just let it all out, alright?” He murmurs, running his fingers through your hair. You cling to him, feeling safe and secure in his grasp. Hiccuping, you replied, “Thank you, Simon. Love you.” Your words are muffled by his shirt. He chuckled, pulling back enough to bring you into a kiss. “Love you, too, pet,” He whispered after he pulled away. Under his breath, you hear him begin to hum.

You two stay interlocked, listening to his heartbeat and humming, it lulling you to sleep. His hand continued its ministrations on your scalp as he felt your breathing even out. He pulls far enough away to look at your face, relieved to see you so calm. He smiles to himself, rubbing his thumb across your cheek. “My favourite,” He whispered, content with you relaxed in his arms. 

[0-r-a-y-0]

Wisdom Teeth— Romantic #15

In which: Nick gets his wisdom teeth removed and his brothers and Jasper have to take care of him.

Warnings: Drugs, a TON of dialogue

“Are you nervous?” Chris asked, in a teasing tone. Both him and Matt have already gotten their wisdom teeth removed, now today would be Nick’s turn.

“Yes, I’m nervous! Who wouldn’t be?!” Nick snapped, trying to calm his nerves before going into surgery.

“It’ll be alright, you won’t even feel a thing.” Jasper comforted.

“Yeah but my mouth will hurt like hell after.” He complained.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll get through it. You can do this.” The boy said, gently grabbing onto Nick’s hand.

“You’ll be fine! Time will fly by and you won’t even it happened until you’re off the anesthesia.” Matt chimed in.

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about! I don’t want to be acting weird afterwards.” Nick responded.

“You’re appointment is in five minutes, we should go in and get you signed in.” Chris suggested.

Nick sighs, opening up the door and getting out. “Let’s go then, I just want to get this over with.”

They easily get signed it and they wait in the chairs until a lady comes in and calls for Nick. He sighs again and gets up.

“Wish me luck guys.” Nick muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets before walking up to the lady.

They make small talk while they’re walking to the room. When they enter, he was instructed to lay down in the chair while she looks at his teeth.

“Okay, this is only going to be a little poke. It’s going to numb your gums so you won’t feel the procedure while you’re asleep.” She claimed, putting a needle into his mouth and injecting the liquid, then doing the same of the other side of his mouth.

“Good, good.” The surgeon muttered. “Now this is the anesthesia, close your eyes, relax, and count backwards from ten.” She instructed, holding up a different needle to his forearm. Soon, he drifted off from consciousness.

When he woke up, everything was blurry and lights were bright. He adjusts and sits up, everything moving in slow motion but still not being able to process anything around him.

Chris looks up from his phone, seeing Nick was awake. “Hey Nick.”

“Huh?” He asked cluelessly, looking around until he spotted Chris. “Hey Matt, my mouth feels soooo weird.”

“It’s Chris actually.” He corrected, standing up. “Let me go get Matt and Jasper real quick. Hang tight.”

“Sorry…” Nick muttered, looking down at his hands.

“Hey, it’s alright. Your vision is probably a little messed up.” Chris replied, rubbing his shoulders for comfort.

Chris was only gone for a moment, and when he returned he brought Matt and Jasper with him; just as he said he would. Nick perks up at seeing Jasper, his spark suddenly being brought back.

“JASPERRR!” Nick exclaims, throwing his arms up, but then dropping them immediately. “Woahhh, my arms feel heavy…”

“Alright, let’s go.” Jasper said, grabbing Nick’s hands and pulling him off the chair.

“Slow down! I’m dizzy.” He exclaims, stumbling in his grip.

“I’m not even moving, hun.” The boy laughs, holding onto him so he wouldn’t fall.

“I don’t like this feeling. It’s like an out of body experience.” Nick demonstrates, clinging onto Jasper and looking around the room. “And I want my bed.”

“The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you get your bed.” Jasper confirmed, almost dragging him out the room and down the hallway, back to the waiting room.

“I told you to slow the fuck dowwwnnnn!” He exclaims, tripping over nothing but air.

“Sorry hun, I just can’t stand being here any longer. I want you to get comfortable and get some rest like you’re supposed to.” Jasper says, stopping so Nick can get his grip again.

In the car, Matt drove, Chris sat in the passenger seat and Nick and Jasper sat in the back, per usual. “Jasper, everything is spinning, it’s making me dizzy and everything is moving in slow motion. I don’t like it.” Nick slurred, laying his head on the curly haired boy’s shoulder as he cluelessly gazed at the ceiling.

“That’s normal, don’t worry. It’ll wear off.” Jasper claimed, rubbing his arm for comfort.

“You’re so high.” Chris stated with a giggle, looking behind them.

“HIGH?!” Nick snaps his head towards him before suddenly calming down. “Twenty years sober for nothing.”

“You didn’t smoke or take anything. It was so you wouldn’t feel anything during the surgery.” Matt explained. “And besides, you aren’t even sober, you were smoking weed last week.”

“Surgery? What did you guys do to me?” He slurred, over exaggerating hand gestures. “Wait…if I’m high, does that mean my eyes are red?” He pulls on his under eyes to show more of his eyeballs.

“No, they’re still white.” Chris answered, recording.

“They didn’t give you marijuana, Nick. It was anesthesia.” Matt adds.

Nick pulls out his phone and turns on his camera, looking at his eyes. “If I’m gonna get high it might as well have been weed.” He sighs, putting his phone back in his pocket and laying on Jasper once again. “I want my bed.”

“You’ll get your bed, we’re almost home.” Jasper whispered, kissing the top of his head.

“Was there a lot of blood?” Nick wondered.

“What?” The other questioned, confused.

“During the surgery. Was there a lot of blood?”

“No, there was barely any. But, you are still bleeding in your mouth. That’s why you have the gauzes, it helps stop the bleeding.” Jasper confirmed, trying to be as reassuring as possible.

“I don’t like blood.” Nick comments.

“We know you don’t.” Chris responds.

“This car makes me feel sick.” The redhead said in a daze, bouncing his leg and slightly shaking.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Jasper instructs, holding Nick’s hands. “I know you want your bed and you don’t like how you’re feeling but we’re almost home and you’ll feel better.”

After a few minutes of Nick panicking and everyone else in the car trying to comfort him the best way they can, he finally calms down and Matt finally pulls into their driveway.

Once they’re inside, Nick and Jasper go into his bedroom and lay down on his bed. “I’m so sad.” He comments.

“Why’s that, hun?” Jasper asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just…editing is starting to get stressful but I can’t edit now because I can barely move fingers. I’m so tired and I want to sleep but not tired enough to actually sleep, and I hate sleeping as well! An—and sometimes I’m worried that I’m not enough and I’m just a waste of space. Maybe I’m not funny, and I don’t look good with my red hair, and that I’m not good enough for you even though I’m trying my best. I don’t know how much longer I can actually try without giving up. Everything is just becoming too much and I just want to relax and take a break for once and to spend time with you without being busy or stressing about videos or editing. And I love talking but my mouth is starting to hurt from these gauzes or my “surgery” that I apparently got done without me knowing, which I don’t know why you’d do that to me! But my mouth is hurting from it and I’m always talking and always loud but now I won’t be able to be loud anymore. Sometimes, I’m really insecure about my voice because I have a loud ass voice and yell everything without meaning to!” Nick vented, his rant almost turning into nonsense.

“Well, you have a break right now. You’re on break for the whole month, no editing, no filming, nothing. And you’re not a waste of space. You’re really funny, I’ve never laughed harder with anyone but you, you look handsome with your red hair and mullet, and you are more than enough for me. You are everything I’ve ever wanted, and I love you so much. If it makes you feel better, I love your loud ass voice.” Jasper claimed, laying down next to him and holding him close. “Also, you chose to get that surgery. We can’t force you to do anything.”

“You think I’m stubborn?”

“Oh, I don’t think, I know you’re stubborn. But I think that’s why you made it so far. You refuse to give up and you made it to almost six million subscribers and you’re very successful. Being stubborn is a good thing, darling.”

“Mkay, I’m going to sleep now.” Nick stated, changing positions to get more comfortable.

“Alright babe, I’m right here if you need anything.” Jasper replied, but it was too late. Nick was already out. He sighs and gets up, making sure he was the correct pain killers out for when he wakes up.

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

Teeth Headcanons for Modern Warfare Characters

kinda a short one this time. So close to the end of these only Price is left! (might write for Ale and Rudy?? but I mean for the pre-written stuff.) and oh boy its my favorite MacTavish! I had fun making this one. His teeth can hardly ever been seen in the campaign so I had lots of creative freedom. now, onto my teeth headcanons for...

Soap

In contrast to Ghost, Soap brags about having perfect teeth. Without ever getting braces his teeth are straight, fit in his mouth, and he didn’t even need wisdom teeth surgery. He brushes his teeth the majority of nights, but never in the morning, doesn’t floss, and yet he’s never gotten a cavity once! And his gums feel fine! 

Except, if he ever actually bothered to *visit* a dentist they would break every one of those notions to SHREDS! His overbite is REAL and will lead to tooth decay if he doesn’t catch on. He has 2 active cavities that just haven’t reached his nerve yet, if he ever actually *tried* to floss his mouth would look like a MURDER SCENE. And while his lower wisdom teeth did erupt without issue, his upper ones are just HANGING up there, partially erupted and *waiting* to become infected because he cannot clean them. It is by sheer LUCK he has not had a dental emergency yet, someone, please drag this man to a dentist NOW. 

If you look at his jaw you can see that his lower jaw is relatively large hence why I think his lower wisdom teeth would be fine, but I’m also taking the liberty of giving him an overbite because a) I want to goddammit, and b) look at fig 2… just… if I can’t look at that and say possible overbite I don’t know what photo I could say that too.

--

Okay so, I looked up Soap’s actor after writing this, and I don’t think the actor has an overbite so maybe my wishes are dashed but these are also headcanons sooo….. I’ve been as accurate as I can be up till this point let me have this dbfhdjh. Hadir's teeth are different from his actors too! Neil Ellice’s teeth are BEAUTIFUL jezus, pearl whites frfr Soap’s teeth are NOT that shiny.

Fig 1 & 2

Fig 3

[mischievous-introvert]

A Disabled Rant About Public Transit

Traveling via public transit makes me so upset sometimes. I really want to like it because I dig community resources and environmentalism. However, I have a really hard time with the inconsistency, the noise, the smells, the lights, and especially the crowds. Every time I board a bus I start to either dissociate or feel like I’m going to die. I took my rollator today which meant I felt even more self conscious the entire time and aware of how much I blocked the aisle and kept trying to roll away (even when locked). It also meant that I had to sit in the “accessible” seating. I’m grateful to be able to sit at all, but all of those seats all face inwards which means every time the bus jerks to a stop I am thrown to the side. Facing forward I can brace myself much easier, but when I’m jerked to the side it’s much harder on my joints and it makes me dizzy. I also just had surgery and after a while the bumps and jerking caused my internal stitches to ache, which makes me anxious.

Then, when I went to transfer to the subway all I could find was stairs or escalators going the wrong way. Sometimes accessible elevator entrances are hidden. I went to a different door. No luck. I looked it up but couldn’t find a clear answer. I decided to push myself a bit and ask an employee of an attached store. I had to repeat myself a couple of times. They pointed me in a direction and when I checked they understood I was looking for no stairs they confirmed it. There was still stairs. I looked it up again and discovered the subway entrance was inaccessible. It was likely marked incorrectly because there are plans to add an elevator, but also the plans seem a few years old. So I took my rollator down the stairs. It was hard and it hurt. I considered asking one of the people passing me for help but felt too embarrassed. There were a few more stairs and a downwards escalator inside.

At first I felt frustrated with myself. I told myself that I should have just taken a more expensive but comfortable route, or I should have known to double check that the subway station was accessible. Then, my anger shifted. I live independently, and even if I felt safe driving I can’t afford a car. I can’t work enough to cover food and rent let alone transit. I can barely get anywhere without a car, and this is best option I have? Idk it feels a bit spoiled to complain in some ways, but I feel like disabled people deserve better. It is so difficult for me to leave my house. I just want to get myself to my friends house to watch movies together once a week. Every week getting there leaves me almost too exhausted and in pain to be fully present. I’m sick of this. I don’t know how to change things, but it feels like letting it out will be helpful for my mental health. Also maybe someone here can relate and feel less alone. Maybe someone will see ableism that they didn’t before and have more compassion. Maybe someone can do something to make things better even if it doesn’t directly effect me, that would be pretty cool. Idk I mostly just wish I could stop feeling like this is somehow my fault when I know I did nothing to deserve that feeling.

[genderqueerdykes]

Hello! I don’t know if you’d remember but a while back, quite a few months now, I sent in an ask about being an older trans person and the anxiety around coming out. Well, I sent you another ask about how I began socially coming out. I’m back again to tell you that I’ve just been put on the waiting list for top surgery! It’s an extremely long wait list, years and years of wait before a consultation. But I’m on it and I wouldn’t have had the courage before to get myself there. And I just got a bridging prescription for testosterone until I can see a therapist and get a proper diagnosis and prescription!! I’m so anxious but I’m excited. I feel like things are finally beginning to come around for me! Also, thank you so much for your blog. Your answers have been extremely helpful and your presence is wonderful. Have a wonderful day!! Wish me luck!!

💜💜

hello there!

i wanted to say that i'm so sorry for being so late in answering this, but i'm really glad to hear that you've been on the waitlist! i know that it can take forever, but i'm proud of you for reaching that milestone! i hope you're much further along now than you were when you sent this!

good luck, i'm really proud of you for taking those steps, i hope you're a lot happier in your skin now that you've made those decisions! i'm happy we could've helped in any way!

take care of yourself, good luck with top surgery & testosterone! stay safe out there! thanks for letting us know, we're extremely happy for you!

[teaberrii]

Chapter Nineteen: Good Bad Luck

Alhaitham has the looks and the smarts. He will also be the stand-in CEO for his grandfather's company for a year.

But, he's been mysteriously cursed to turn into a cat every night since his eighteenth birthday… until he meets you, an employee at his grandfather's company, who rescues him as a cat and changes him back with one kiss.

Alhaitham/You

Notes:

Cross-posted on AO3

Female reader

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

You and Alhaitham are already at the hospital when Ayato and Thoma arrive. You'd got a call from Aether, telling you he's on the way to the hospital because of Ayaka's sudden chest pain. So, Alhaitham quickly drove you to the hospital to check on them. You're standing with Aether as Ayato listens to the update from the doctor who just finished checking on Ayaka.

“She’s in stable condition,” the doctor reassures. “They’re symptoms of her surgery, and they’ll usually get better after four to six weeks.” Ayato breathes a soft sigh of relief. “She’ll be out in a minute or two.”

Once the doctor leaves, Ayato hears a quiet “Um…” behind him. When he turns around, he sees a nervous-looking Aether.

"He wants to apologize," you say, walking up. Then, you put a hand on your brother's shoulder. "...Right, Aether?"

Aether nods and bows. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to put her in trouble. I should’ve been more careful, and—”

Ayato makes Aether raise his head and says, "You're still young, and I know you didn't mean any harm. Ayaka can be… quite stubborn when she wants something." He sighs. "I knew she was going out with you, so I'm also at fault. I should've been more adamant about her not going."

Thoma gets off the phone and walks up to Ayato. “I’ve cancelled your schedules for the rest of the day.”

Ayato gives Thoma a nod just as Ayaka is wheeled out from her checkup. Aether and Ayato are immediately at her side.

"I'm fine," Ayaka quickly says before the questions begin. "Really."

“We’d like her to stay one night just so we can monitor her condition,” the doctor says.

Aether and Ayato follow the nurses wheeling Ayaka to a patient’s room, leaving you, Thoma, and Alhaitham in the hallway. You turn to Thoma when you hear him sigh softly.

“Do you two have a minute to talk?”

Eventually, you, Thoma, and Alhaitham end up sitting at a café on the first floor.

“I’m thinking of telling Ayato what really happened,” Thoma says quietly.

You and Alhaitham glance at each other. “What led to this decision?” Alhaitham asks.

"At first, I thought I was honouring her wish. But the more I think about it, the more it feels… like a chain. Ayato believes she died naturally. It makes sense that Ayato is shouldering that burden or coming up with excuses that if only he had worked harder, she could've had better treatment. If he knew what she really wanted, perhaps it would also help him gain strength to pursue what he really wants in life."

It isn’t just Ayato who’s been doing some self-reflection since the little argument between them.

“I just… I just don’t know how I’m going to tell him," Thoma finishes quietly.

“There you guys are!” Everyone turns and sees Aether walking up to the table. “I thought you left without me!”

“How’s Ayaka?” you ask.

“She’s fine,” Aether says with a little smile. He sits next to Thoma. “What were you talking about?”

“Nothing, really,” you say. “Just small talk.”

Aether looks from you to Thoma and to Alhaitham. “...Really?”

“Are you hungry?” you ask, standing. Then, you gesture for your brother to stand and usher him to the café to order some food.

“Ooh, are you paying, Sis?”

“After what happened tonight, you’re paying for yourself, kid.”

“Aw…”

Thoma looks back at Alhaitham. “...Has there been any new progressions with your curse?”

“No, unfortunately not. But, we’ve explored the possibility of a secret being the key to breaking it.”

“...A secret, huh?” Thoma crosses one leg over the other. “May I ask how long you two have been together?”

“Less than a year,” Alhaitham says. “In our case, I doubt it has anything to do with a secret.”

“True… it doesn’t seem likely.”

Alhaitham feels his curse is the most difficult to understand. If types of love are the theme, Alhaitham assumes all they have to do is to mend the relationships they lack in their lives. And, if that's the case, what does that mean for him?

Alhaitham already has you, and your relationship is going well. So… is it really what Kaveh says? Is it marriage? Having a baby? Alhaitham sighs. He doesn't want to believe that is the ultimate goal. It's ridiculous. Anyone can do those things if they want to, not because it's out of love.

He knows he's missing something.

Later in the evening, after making sure Ayaka is okay, you and Alhaitham are on the road back home with Aether in the back seat.

“Hey, Sis. Do you know what Lumine’s been working on lately?”

“Lumine? I… don’t think so. Why?”

“Seems like she’s working on some secret project.” Aether gasps. “You don’t think it might be a gift or something for that flirting ginger, right? I think something's going on between them...”

“Childe? His birthday isn’t for another two months. We can always ask her later.”

“I guess… but I wonder why she never said anything. Ooh, that reminds me. You’re still going to Kaeya’s beach party, right?”

“I can’t. It’s on the same day as the reunion. I already told Collei that I’m going.”

“Oh…” Aether slightly narrows his eyes. “Wait… wasn’t the flirt also invited? Is he still going?”

"I don't think he's going anymore, but I'm not sure." 

Aether crosses his arms. "Well, that's not suspicious at all. Since we're talking about it, where are you going for the reunion anyway?"

“Lambad’s Tavern."

“Oh!”

You can see the smile on his face. “Why are you getting excited?”

“Weeelll… if it’s not too much trouble, could you bring back some food?”

As Alhaitham listens to you and Aether’s conversation, he thinks back to when he first visited Lambad’s Tavern, a pub-turned-restaurant. It was his eighteenth birthday, and he’d gotten off the phone with his parents a few hours earlier. Their flight had just landed, and he told them he was going to celebrate with Kaveh, who took him to Lambad’s Tavern.

“Ooh, a friend of yours, Kaveh?”

“He’s my cute little junior,” Kaveh said cheekily as he and Alhaitham took seats at the bar.

Alhaitham looked from Kaveh to the tall, buff man. It looked like Kaveh’s connections go far.

“...Hello. My name is Alhaitham.”

The man let out a hearty laugh. "A soft-spoken one, it seems. The name's Lambad and this pub's been in my family for generations."

“This dude just turned eighteen,” Kaveh said. “So, his drinks are on me tonight.”

“Ooh the big eighteen, huh? Then, why so glum, chum?”

Alhaitham thought he looked as he always did. But little did he know that his downhearted spirits were written all over his face. Perhaps it was because his parents couldn't wait until after his birthday to leave for work.

When Alhaitham stayed quiet, Kaveh said, “Bring me your best beers, Lambad!” Still a little puzzled, Lambad left to get the drinks Kaveh ordered. " Should I have taken you to a strip club instead?” Alhaitham gave Kaveh a deadpan look, and Kaveh smiled. “Well, at least that got the frown off your face.”

“...How do you know the owner of this place?”

“What? Jealous?”

Alhaitham almost rolled his eyes.

“I came here last time for another friend’s party. The one you bailed on, remember?”

Ah. Right.

“Anyway, Lambad gave us free drinks on the house since it was a celebration. He was a cool guy.”

The rest of Kaveh's words fell on deaf ears when Alhaitham heard the familiar ring of the bell above the front entrance. Then, with one glance, he saw the back of a girl walking across the street.

“Sorry to keep ya waitin’!”

Alhaitham turned and saw a chocolate lava cake with two strawberries placed on top. The empty space beside was decorated with chocolate syrup in a shape of a heart.

“This one’s on the house,” Lambad said. “A customer ordered it, but she had to leave early.”

“She didn’t bother packing it?” Kaveh asked.

“Ah, well, I was just chattin’ with her, and I told her that, uh, your birthday friend looked a little glum. So, she said he could have it. She paid for it, too.”

"Damn. Seriously?" Kaveh reached for the small fork, but Alhaitham slapped his hand away. "Hey! You don't even like sweets! What gives?"

Alhaitham didn't answer him but picked up the fork and cut into the lava cake. Then, after taking a small bite, he smiled slightly. This one, somehow, tasted just right.

"...CEO?"

Alhaitham glances at you and then at Aether in the rearview mirror. "...Apologies. Did you say something?"

You chuckle. "Did our conversation bore you to death? You zoned out for a minute there."

"I was just thinking about the first time I visited Lambad's Tavern."

You and Aether glance at each other. "Did something interesting happen?" he asks.

"It was my eighteenth birthday," Alhaitham says, pulling up to your mother's house. He catches the look on your face and subtly nods as if knowing what you're thinking.

"Aether," you say. "We're here."

"Aw... but I want to hear the rest of the story!"

"There's always next time," Alhaitham says.

"Oh, fine." Then, Aether unbuckled his seatbelt. “Thanks for the ride, Mr. CEO!”

“You’re welcome.”

Aether gives you and Alhaitham a wave before heading into the house. Then, Alhaitham drives off.

"...So, that day is the day you first turned?" you ask.

"Yes. It happened that night."

"Should I be worried? It won't be my turn to turn into a cat, would it?"

Alhaitham chuckles. "No, I don't think so. But... maybe you should be careful about what you order."

"Stop scaring me, Catman," you say, gently nudging him.

Alhaitham once considered Lambad's Tavern to have something to do with his curse, but he quickly tossed the thought away. If it did, why didn't Kaveh turn? So, once again, Alhaitham tosses the thought out the window. It's just a coincidence. 

◆◆◆

As soon as Childe opens his apartment door, Lumine smells fried chicken.

“The food was getting cold!” Childe says.

When Lumine enters the living room, she sees a bucket of fried chicken, fries, and salad on the table.

“Sorry I was late,” Lumine says as Childe brings in some drinks. “I got caught up with something.”

“Was it Aether?”

“Aether?”

"Wasn't he on a date with Ayaka? I was working on a shoot with Ayato today, and he left in a hurry after his sister was hospitalized."

“What?!”

"She's okay." Childe holds up his phone. "He told me everything's fine. Everyone else was with them, too."

Lumine frowns. “I told him that going to the amusement park is a bad idea.” She slides Childe a plate just as he opens up the bucket. “Hey, don’t forget to wash your hands."

“Aye-aye, Mon Capitan.”

Once they sit down to eat, Childe says, “So... I take it wasn't Aether that kept you."

“...No. I was working on something for a competition.”

“A competition?” Childe grabs her a chicken leg and then himself. “That’s amazing, Lulu. What kind of competition?”

“It’s more like an initiative to help new graduates find jobs.”

“Ah… right. You’re graduating soon, aren’t you?”

“You just remembered?” she deadpans.

Childe laughs. “Of course not. I already have a gift prepared.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Do you have proof I’m lying?”

Lumine bites into a chicken leg as Childe dips a fry in gravy.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Childe continues. “It’s an initiative… so are you designing something?”

"...Yeah. It's something different than what I usually do, but I'm interested in designing characters for games."

“Hey, that’s pretty cool! Can I see what you’ve been working on?”

“I… don’t have anything concrete yet.”

Childe leans closer to her. “Is it just me, or are you… nervous, Lulu?”

Does he really have to call her out like that if he knows?

“Why would I be nervous?”

Childe shrugs. “You tell me.”

After taking a moment to eat, Lumine says, "I guess it's because I never did something like this before… it's also not exactly what I studied. It's similar, but it's also another skill set I need to learn." She sighs and leans back. "I don't know… I'm just having a lot of doubts right now."

"I've seen some of your work, Lumine. You're too talented to have that kind of mindset." Lumine looks at him. When he looks back, she quickly looks at her food. She's never seen Childe so serious. He's always joking around; this side of him is… strange, to say the least.

“...You’re just saying that,” she mutters.

"If you're entering the competition with that kind of mindset, you might as well drop out."

Since when is Childe this… harsh?

"I can't just quit!"

"But you aren't confident."

Lumine looks down. "...I think I like you better when you're joking around."

Childe puts his elbows on the table. "I can understand why you're nervous. But as long as you take it seriously, you won't have any regrets."

Lumine opens her salad bowl. “Why does it sound like you’re speaking from experience?”

“...Because this was something I had to deal with.”

Childe had to take this chance. It's been a couple of months since he first met you, a student in the same year as him. The only difference was that you were studying the field that he wanted to go into. He'd heard about the screenwriting competition from you. When he expressed his interest, you were genuinely surprised to see that a business major like him had such a strong interest in the Creative Arts.

“You… want to try?” 

“What? Are you looking down on a business major?”

You laughed. “Why would I do that? I’m just… surprised. I also know some people in business, but they seem, well, business-minded.”

“I’ll have you know that creative writing was one of my strengths back in the day.”

“Back in the day? We’re only eighteen,” you deadpan.

When Childe learned you were also competing, he obviously knew you'd have an advantage. But Childe was desperate to give it a shot to prove to his parents that he had the talent for this. Little did he know that it was more than his talent that helped him get his foot in the door.

“...Why do you want to waste time on something like this?” his father asked him at dinner. “How are your studies going?”

“...Fine,” Childe said flatly. He took out his midterm exam and put it on the desk. “I got one of the highest scores.”

“You should focus on your studies,” his mother continued. “What if your grades start suffering because of this contest?”

“It won’t impact my grades. If it does, I’ll drop out of the competition.”

His parents looked at each other. After a small silence, his father said, “There's a reason why you want to do this competition, don’t you?”

“That’s… what I want to talk to you about,” Childe said quietly. “If I win… I… I want to switch my major.”

“What?”

Childe had never known that a single word could carry so much weight. Or, maybe it’s the strict, stern way his father had said it. He was obviously not happy.

“It would prove I could make it in the field,” Childe continued. “...And… it’s something I want to do.”

His parents exchanged another look.

“Those kinds of industries are corrupted,” his mother said. “It’s all about connections and dirty money. I don’t understand why anyone would want to enter the creative industry. It’s mostly about luck.”

“No, it’s not! Do you know how hard some people work just to—”

"Enough." Childe looked at his father, who was staring at him now. "...You aren't going to let this go, aren't you?"

Childe shook his head. “Just give me a chance,” he muttered. “Please.”

“...I… never knew you had to go through that with your parents,” Lumine says.

“Of course, you didn't. I didn’t tell anyone.”

“Wait… So… my sister doesn’t know about this?”

“She knows I have problems with them and that they don’t approve of the field I’m in. But that’s it.” Childe looks her in the eyes. “You’re the first person to know.”

Lumine’s heart races, and she has to look away from him… again.

“...I think I know which competition you’re talking about. If I remember correctly, my sister got second.”

“...I got third.”

“How did I not know about this?”

Childe crosses one leg over the other. “Do you see anyone bragging that they got third place in a competition?”

“But… you still got third!" Lumine says. "That’s pretty good considering it involved other universities.”

"My point for sharing that story is to tell you that was the turning point in my life. Despite going against people who were probably more experienced than me, I didn't regret anything because I took it seriously. I gave it my all. From that competition, someone reached out to me, and I got an internship in the summer at a small entertainment company writing scripts."

Lumine knows Childe shared his story to encourage her. But, she still has to ask. “...What about your parents? What did they say?”

“My story stops there.”

“What!”

Childe looks at her. “What?”

“W-well… I… I kind of want to know what happened,” she says quietly.

Childe leans back. “Then, I guess you can say that the rest is history.” He smiles at her. “Don't worry about whether you’d come in first or not. You should just worry about having the right mindset.”

“Huh… I never thought you could be strangely dependable, Childe.”

He frowns. “Excuse me? What did you think about me?”

Lumine shrugs and dips a fry in gravy. "What do you think?" Then, she takes a bite. "...You say the rest is history, so does that mean your parents fully support what you do now?"

“...Not exactly.”

Lumine leans forward. “...Is that why you asked me that question that day? Who would I pick? Myself or… other people?” When Childe stays quiet, she gets up and sits next to him. “Childe, I—”

“Can we not talk about them?” Childe sighs.

"...Right. Sorry." Then, she clears her throat. “Well, let’s go back to why I had to come over tonight. You said you had something to show me. So, what is it?”

Childe almost forgot about that. He looks at his watch. It is around that time…

He stands. “It’ll be easier if I show you.”

“Uh… okay…” But just as Childe lifts his shirt, Lumine suddenly yells, “Stop! What are you doing?”

“...Showing you.”

“Showing me what?” Lumine’s covering her face with her hands. “Put down your shirt, you perv!”

‘It’s going to happen soon.”

“What is going to happen soon?”

“My cat transformation!”

Lumine slowly puts her hands down. “...Your… what?” She stands. “Are you messing with me?”

“No, I swear. I—”

She puts a hand on her hip. “Well, I’m waiting.”

Childe sighs and looks at the clock. It should be any minute now.

One minute.

Three minutes.

Five long minutes.

Lumine sits back on the chair, giving Childe the most deadpan look she has ever given him. Childe awkwardly scratches his head. Why hasn't he changed yet? Of course, his curse has to be this unstable at the most inconvenient time.

“Well, your magical girl transformation hasn’t happened yet,” Lumine says. “Are you forgetting some kind of chant? Maybe something like... Moon Prism Po—"

“Look, I don’t know why it hasn’t happened yet. It’s usually unstable, but—”

Lumine sighs and stands. “It’s getting late, Childe. I should go.”

After bringing her plate to the kitchen, she grabs her jacket and walks to the door. “Lumine.” She turns around as Childe walks up to her. “...I don’t know what kind of competition it is, but… if I could help you with anything, just let me know.”

Childe is looking away from her almost as if embarrassed. If she squints, she can see the faint blush on his cheeks. So, she walks up to him. She tilts Childe’s face so he’s looking into her eyes. His eyes widen, and Lumine almost giggles at how startled he seems.

Now, it’s his turn to ask. “...What are you doing?”

Lumine tilts his head left and right as if examining him closely. “You said you could help me with anything… right?”

“Uh… yeah.”

Lumine lets him go. “Well, I know just the thing.” She smiles. “Be my model.”

“Your… what?”

Lumine winks at him. “No take-backs.”

Before Childe can get a chance to say anything else, Lumine is already out the door. He takes a step and… poof!

Then, he lets out the most annoyed and frustrated meow the cat world has probably ever heard.

Chapter Twenty

Tag list: @suoshiii @lxry-chxn @seirenspinel @lordbugs @sakiimeo @ash-in-lavender @ceylestia @forsh4dow @deathkat657 @kalpie @elernity @sentieence @chichibleeps @sunsethw4 @hjjks @tanspostsblog @nqctre @just-simping-over-genshin @uchihaeirin @vynbin @ayanokomu @dksfl920 @alatus1808 @itztaki @thetwinkims @imkaaayy @angeilix @starlighttotheleft @letthewindlead @thelonelyarchon @certaindreampost @winterpein @theprinceofkhaos @vvyeislazzy

[dlnj]

Well here I am . Being a brave girl . Lately I’ve been having mixed feelings about who I am and been avoiding myself . I hate myself for it I do , I’m hoping that one day I will be completely ok with who I am. I know it’s a little strange but here is it. I’m not gay I’m bi , I am transgender and always known I was supposed to be a woman . The confusing part if that isn’t confusing enough for you is while I am still bi sexual for sure I have always looked at myself as a woman but a woman who is still very much into woman . Maybe I am gay lol a gay girl anyway , which is completely fine by me. And yes I want to live as my true self but still have no intention of ever leaving my wife for a man or even another girl , couldn’t and wouldn’t do it, I love her and I’ve always seen myself as a woman (well I diapered woman lol ) who is always going to be married to another woman . Still strange to me I guess but feels so right . I wish I could fully understand the girl I am but I don’t and I can only go with things I know for sure . 1 I am a diaper lover girly for sure , 2 I am a transgender girl who would like to get top surgery and be on hormones and 3 I am actually that much more sexual as a woman and even that much more attracted to woman as a woman . Very complicated to say the least but this is me. I love being able to be Miranda in diapers married to an amazing woman who accepts me as such. She can be back and forth a little and it scares me and makes me feel bad but when she is all in she really does know how to treat a lady . Saturday she is taking me to my first concert as a girl . She’s been really looking forward to it , me to but I’m scared to death , she swears she’s going to protect me and not let anyone hurt my feelings . Hopefully that won’t be an issue and we will either be embraced or left alone . Either way this girl really hopes I don’t let my wife down and get too scared to be myself .Wish me luck .

[atopfourthwall]

This is gonna sound weird. But your videos make me feel less alone.

I’m in a state trying to kill my sister, and I don’t know how to help her escape. I have a lot anxiety about a new job I’m starting. A friend of mine is making a mistake I can’t stop her from doing. Another friend has a genetic disorder causing her untold pain and the surgery is 30,000$ minimum. And it might not even work. And the love of my life hates me, hasn’t spoken to me in a year, and has moved in with the man she cheated on me with. Last i knew they were looking at wedding venues.

And when it all becomes too much… i put on a playlist of your stuff… HOPR, or the silent hill comics, or the recent ring videos… i watch… and sometimes fall asleep with you playing… and for a fleeting moment. I don’t feel like I’m alone.

Thank you for the very kind words. I'm sorry about a lot of these problems in your life and I wish I could do more beyond provide some entertainment and escape from things. Still, I feel I'd be negligent if I didn't bring up two important things here: -In regards to your friend, might want to check this post out: Linkara's Tumblr More or less, financial aid services for hospitals DO exist and indeed medical debt can be wiped out depending on their income so it might be prudent for them to look into if that can be done ahead of time to try to lighten the burden on the surgery. -In regards to the woman who you called the love of your life, obviously they were not that if they were willing to cheat on you and have no desire to maintain contact with them. Relationships ending, particularly when one partner has been unfaithful, sucks. However, that also might be a sign that they were not the person you thought they were and perhaps you dodged a bullet there. I know that's not going to make it hurt any less when it DOES happen because you allowed yourself to trust someone and be as open and intimate with your own life with them and they broke it, but hopefully it's something that you can think about moving forward and hopefully find someone who will be worthy of that trust in the future. Good luck and thank you again for the very kind words. Hopefully things will look up in the future.

[transenbyconfessions]

i could barely breathe a few times today due to my binder. and my ribs hurt. i’m scared. i’ve only been wearing a binder for about a year now, maybe less. and i know i’ll have to do this for at least 3-5 more years. in 3-5 years i hope, i really hope i can get top surgery. wish me luck guys. i don’t want to hurt myself. even though i know i already am. i am trying to be as safe as i possibly can be but it’s so hard. my back hurts my bones hurt but oh my god is it worth it. i could not make it without a binder. and that is scary to me. because what if i hurt myself really bad just trying to get by, just trying to survive. these years will feel like decades. centuries. and i know i’m lucky that i know eventually one day i will be able to transition. i know i’m lucky to have a binder. it was hard to get. but i just wish i didn’t have to wait at all. what if i don’t make it?

i know a lot trans people have to go through this. but how many do make it? what if i’m part of the percent that doesn’t?

i’m so scared.

Submitted May 20, 2023

Obligatory safe binding practices guide