#Navel Displacement

[2pndr]

The Final Mix

A/N: Written for a prompt by @woollypoison. Much love for hosting! This is also my first time officially writing smut. Enjoy!

Karina & Hyeri x Male Reader Smut

5.7k words

Now here’s the thing about Lee Hyeri: 

She gets it. 

She’s loud, she’s lazy, and she’s casually filthy, sure. But she doesn’t pretend this is about attachment or romance or whatever else people try to slap onto a good fuck. She moans like a banshee, curses like she’s getting paid by the word, and she’ll laugh in your face if you try to call this passion. 

It's not passion. It's Tuesday. 

You like her for that. That, and the fact that she squirts like a pornstar and doesn’t mind doing it on company time.

Desk, floor, couch, conference table—pick your battlefield. She’ll bring the war. (And open the floodgates.)

Today’s bout happens to be in your vocal booth. 

Or, happened, rather.

“Don’t fall asleep in here,” you remind her, yanking your pants up. “You drool on anything expensive and the label’s gonna think I adopted a stray.”

“Hah,” she laughs dryly. “You owe me lunch, for that one. Or, I dunno, a lozenge. I can’t feel my throat.”

You snort, still half-naked, still sweating—absolutely not in a position to debate sexual reparations.

Meanwhile, Hyeri’s lying across the vocal booth bench like it’s a fucking chaise lounge, panties twirling in her fingers, skirt still hiked up, and blouse open like the concept of modesty just doesn’t apply after three orgasms.

Which, it doesn’t, so you’ll give her that one.

There’s sweat on her chest and something else between her thighs—it yours, obviously—and she’s tracing lazy circles around her navel with one red-tipped nail. “I really think I hit that harmony this time,” she muses. “Like... actually nailed it.” She is, of course, referring to the song you’re supposed to be recording and not the chorus of moans she let out as she came all over you.

You shoot her a sceptical look, shoving a cable out of your way with your foot, hunting for wherever your belt got thrown off to. “You moaned through half of it.”

“Artistic expression,” she shrugs, reaching for a tissue. “Adds texture.”

“It adds me spending an hour editing out your sex noises,” you grimace, pulling your belt out from where she's hidden it under her. “That or we schedule another day to record.”

“Oh no,” she mocks, wiping your cum from between her thighs. “Not post-production work—y’know, the thing you’re paid to do. But,” she’s thinking now, tapping her chin with a finger, “you would like another day with me all to yourself, now wouldn’t you?”

You flick her the bird as you slip back into your button-up. She smiles like she’s won something. She has, technically. Three times, in fact. The first when you ate her out on the bench. The second when she rode you on said bench. And the third against the booth wall, displacing soundproofing with a leg around your waist, your cock in her cunt, and a finger in her ass for good measure.

But unlike your little sexcapade with Hyeri, this was supposed to be quick.

Track the bridge, tweak her verse, maybe do a dry run of the group chorus. Nothing that warranted sweat-slick skin and a room that smells more potent than a fish market. But with Hyeri, quick is theoretical. She’s chaos and lust wrapped in short skirts and high heels—all while masquerading as the Nation's Little Goody-two-shoes.

And then, like the universe itself is showing its disapproval for your pseudo-professionalism, your phone buzzes.

12:15 PM – Karina | Vocal Tracking

“Shit.”

You have exactly thirteen minutes to unfuck the studio.

Hyeri doesn’t look up, popping a mint and digging in her bag for lipstick. “What now?”

“Karina’s coming.”

She looks up. There’s a beat. Then she laughs—not shy, not sorry.

Delighted.

“Did you schedule us back-to-back, again?” she asks, sitting up, buttoning her blouse like it’s a suggestion and not an obligation. “Jesus, you’re bold.”

“I forgot,” you admit, which is true. Sort of.

You remembered the moment Hyeri finished singing the bridge. But when the Nation’s Little Sister is in your vocal booth moaning into the mic and flashing her tits, your list of priorities gets jumbled just a teensy bit.

She cackles, sliding off the bench and onto the floor like this is all the setup to a really good punchline. “Wow. Can’t wait for her to sing backup on the chorus while standing in a puddle of my cu—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

Hyeri holds her hands up. “What? It’s a collab.”

Right. The collab. Two idols, one producer, and a track about heartbreak or temptation or something equally ironic. Not to toot your own horn or anything but the beat’s  good. An obvious hit.

What makes no sense is the lineup.

 Hyeri—basically retired idol turned variety darling turned actress. 90% charm. 100% chaos.

 Karina—hot as all fuck, a pillar of fourth-gen K-pop, and somehow still the weirdest girl in the room. ‘A loser in a goddess’s body’ as the internet puts it.

There’s absolutely no correlation between the two other than industry and that they’re both drop-dead gorgeous. It’s like some wacky higherup wanted the most oddball idol pairings possible. And for some reason, you’re the glue holding it all together.

The calendar notification flashes up at you again, sending you hurtling into action. “Fuck, I really thought it was just you today,” you scramble, grabbing the tissue box and frantically wiping off the bench drenched in her sweat and fluids. “Are you gonna help?”

Hyeri just shrugs. “I had bridge duty,” she begins, ignoring your pleas entirely. “And Karina’s laying down the second verse, right?”

“Yeah,” you reply, dejected and slightly annoyed. She’s not doing shit. “Just…” you begin, like this makes up for anything,”— don’t leave your bra again.”

She pauses, looking down at her chest like she only just remembered she owns one. “Shit—did I?”

You both spot it at the same time in the far corner of the room. Lace, red, costs three figures. Definitely hers. You snatch it like it’s a grenade and shove it into her tote without ceremony.

Hyeri simply grins. “Oops.”

“Can’t believe you left it in the booth last week,” you hiss. “Karina walked in and asked if you were doing your laundry in here.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That you got hot.”

“That’s not even a good lie,” she replies, quite obviously amused by the whole fiasco. “You should’ve said I was doing vocals in lingerie—very French. Very sexy.” 

“Very suspension-of-contract,” you mutter.

“Barely noticed it was gone, to be honest. Was it the black one?”

“...Yes.”

“Mm,” she nods. “Thought so. I’ve been wondering.”

“For a week?”

“I’m not particularly sentimental about bras,” she says, like it’s a flex.

You shake your head. “Do you want it back?”

“Nope. Keep it,” Hyeri zips her tote with a smile, “as a memento.”

You shrug. Can’t argue with that.

With one last wipe you finish scrubbing down the vocal booth like it’s a crime scene clean-up, which, given your contractual obligations such as: Don’t Fuck The Talent, might actually be. 

Three sprays of some bergamot mist tries to mask the smell of sex, sweat, and the lastest in your long line of poor decisions. It doesn’t. At best, now it smells like bergamot and sex. 

But it’ll have to do. 

Hyeri simply watches from her place on the floor. She’s mostly dressed now—blouse crumpled but closed, lipstick redrawn, auburn hair finger-combed into something that says either sexually satisfied or hungover. Almost normal is how you’d describe her—the faint marks just visible above her collar put an emphasis on the almost.

With a couple more sprays of  the citrus you and Hyeri are out of the booth, but you’re desk is a mess too: A tangle of wires, half drunk coffee and—

The recording light is still on.

The waveform’s still rolling.

The track: armed. The booth: live.

You lunge for the keyboard.

Stop recording.

Three peaks. Clear as day.

You don’t need audio engineering school to know what they are. You’re staring at the literal shape of her orgasms.

“Wow,” she says, squinting beside you. “It’s like… orgasmic morse code.”

You glance at her. “The fuck does that even mean?”

“Dunno,” she shrugs. “Sounded smarter in my head.”

You look back at the waveform, playing one of the peaks. 

No vocals. No takes. Just moans. Whines. Wet, slick sounds. You. Her. You in her. And then:

“Oh my fucking Gggggggod,” she moans through the monitors.

Hyeri watches your face. Smiles.

“I should delete it,” you say looking back.

“But you won’t.”

“But I should.”

“But you won’t.”

She’s right. You won’t.

Instead:

Export > Documents > Private > ALT_Hyeri_Vocals.wav

“Ooooh,” she sings, nudging you with her shoulder, a little too pleased. “Wait, alt vocals? Not even a cute name? Not even ‘HyeriMOANS_FinalVII_REALFINAL_usethisone.wav’?”

“It’s for the back-up vocals,” you lie as naturally as you breathe.

“It’s for your spank bank,” she retorts.

You don’t answer. Partly because she’s right and mostly because you’re red from realizing how much you moaned, too. Not your finest hour, you’ll admit.

“Shouldn't you be going?” You finally ask her.

“Fine, fine.”

With one last devious smile, Hyeri pulls on her tote, checks her reflection in the black of the studio glass, and re-combs her hair. “Well,” she says, turning to leave, “have fun explaining our completely professional relationship to Karina.”

“What? Why would I ever—”

“Oh come on,” she cuts in, laughing. “These fourth-gen girls? You think they’ve never walked into a studio that smells like cum and perfume? Please. I’d seriously be surprised if she hasn’t picked up on it by now.”

“Hyeri.”

“I’m serious. She’d have to be Mother Teresa to not know what’s going on in here.” 

You’re mortified. Full-body cringe—It’s delicious to her. “So, unless she’s got a cross under her clothes, you’re not fooling anyone.”

You go pale. She beams.

“You couldn’t have told me this earlier?”

She pretends to think for a second before landing on a simple:

“Nope.”

At the door, she turns, planting a kiss on your cheek—sweet, sinful, smug. “Good luck,” she sings. “See you next week.”

And just like that she's gone.

You’re completely frozen. Save for the moment you spray the bergamot again. 

Five times this time.

Spoiler alert: 

It doesn’t help.

*

Karina arrives at 12:16.

Which is a little late. But when your producer’s secretly been balls-deep in your sexy co-worker, and your body has curves that put cue balls to shame, a little late is just fine.

She pokes her head in, hair in a low ponytail, gray hoodie and sweatpants on, face bare save for chapstick and what you hope is not suspicions of contract violations.

“Hey,” she chirps, offering a small smile. One of those slow, polite things that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Traffic was a nightmare. Did I miss anything?”

Only a live porno starring your dick and Hyeri’s everything.

“Nope,” you lie, voice almost cracking. “Perfect timing.”

She steps inside like she owns the place, which is fair, considering her vocals are probably worth half your paycheck this quarter. Then, she gives you a quick once-over—nothing obvious, but her eyes pause on your sloppy collar, then your flushed ears. You sit up straighter. Try not to look like you’ve just been reverse-exorcised by a woman with zero gag reflex.

Then Karina sniffs.

“New room spray?” she asks, nose wrinkling.

“Uh, yeah. Some limited edition one, I think. Intern picked it up for shits and giggles.”

“Huh.”

You try to make yourself look busy, turning away and absentmindedly double-clicking shit on your desktop, minimising and maximising random windows just to make your screen flash.  You wish you could minimize yourself while you’re at it.

“You, uh… just finished with Hyeri?” she asks, looking over.

There it is.

You nod. Neutral. Casual. “Yeah. She was recording the bridge.”

“Mm.”

Just a sound, not even a word. And yet you can practically hear the subtext screaming: Bridge, huh? Is that what we’re calling it now?

You shouldn’t be scared of her. Of all people, Karina is the probably least intimidating idol you’ve ever worked with—soft-spoken, professionally polite and always just a little behind the tempo of group conversations. 

So then why the fuck does she manage to hit the nail on the head with every word out of that gorgeous mouth?

 “I could tell,” she shrugs. “Smells like her.”

You cough so hard you hit a new vocal register.

But Karina doesn’t say anything. Just makes her way to the booth.

You’re about to ask if she wants water—anything to offset the tension and your crippling anxiety—when she peels off her hoodie.

And fuck you.

It’s not even that it’s scandalous. It’s a black sports bra. Basic. Functional. Nothing that should bring a grown man to his metaphorical and literal knees. It’s gym attire. But it’s her gym attire, and that makes a world of difference. 

The bra doesn’t so much as hide her tits but politely suggest they quiet the fuck down, doing a noble yet futile job of containing what you really wish wasn’t. Because God damn if her breasts aren’t full, shapely—obscene in their perfection, indecent in their splendour. And if that weren't enough for you, right below her stomach tapers in, all sharp lines and lean muscle, just begging for you to run your hands and tongue along.

Karina tosses her hoodie onto the vocal booth bench—the same one you railed Hyeri on half an hour ago. She stretches, arms up, spine arched, that long line of torso on blatant, mouth-watering display. You pretend you’re checking the input levels, but your gaze keeps slingshotting back to her like it’s tied on elastic.

She catches you.

Which, yeah, you’re about as subtle as a cymbal crash.

“It’s really…  stuffy in here,” she remarks as she meets your staring gaze, fanning her face with one hand. “Something must have happened in here.”

Well, if she didn’t know earlier, then she definitely knows now. And she’s fucking with you to boot.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Your throat works around a lie. Futile, probably. Any moment now she could report your horny ass to a higher-up and have you on the street within minutes. But she hasn’t. So either she’s getting off fucking with you, or she wants something in return for keeping hush. Either one isn’t particularly ideal. 

“A‑ah, yeah,” you stammer. Smooth start. “HVAC’s acting up. I’ll put in a ticket.” You flick a random knob that does absolutely nothing, praying she’ll drop it. “Let’s get your tracking done before the air gets worse, yeah?”

Karina nods. Noncommittal. Disbelieving.

Man, you’re so fucked.

*

Karina nails the verse on the first pass—pitch perfect, emotion dialled, consonants crisp enough to slice butter. And for a little while, you forget about her standing in a room soaked in Hyeri’s cum.

Second pass? Even better. Third? Pure polish. By the time you hit stop for real, you're covered in goosebumps and it has nothing to do with the prospect of losing everything.

Karina’s simply that good.

You press the talk‑back. “That’s the one. Seriously, Karina—gold. Take five?”

She lifts one ear‑cup and flashes a grin. “Sure.”

You breathe a sigh of relief when the conversation ends there. Maybe… just maybe… you’ve dodged a bullet.

You lean back, arms stretching over your head, casual as you can fake it. The worst is over. You’re in the clear. She probably bought the ventilation excuse. Probably thinks nothing of the citrus-and-sex sauna she walked into.

Professional crisis: averted.

Thank fuck.

Karina hums a little under her breath, fiddling with her phone. She looks harmless. Normal. Just a girl in a sports bra and sweats, checking her messages, laughing at a reel.

Perhaps Hyeri’s wrong. Perhaps Karina’s a little too sweet, a little too spaced-out, a little too fourth-gen golden girl to know what a post-sex room smells like.

But then you let your gaze skate over her bare stomach again. Then those magnificent tits.

And you wonder how that would be possible.

You shake your head. Refocus.

“Seriously, you crushed it,” you say, half to fill the air, half to genuinely compliment. “Some of your best work, period.”

Karina beams, cheeks flushing pink. And for another second, it’s easy to forget the whole ticking-time-bomb nature of this room. To forget Hyeri’s cum still somewhere deep in the booth fibers. To forget everything except how fucking pretty she looks smiling at you.

You even start mentally scheduling next week’s sessions—like you’re gonna get away clean.

You’re an idiot.

Because then she ruins your fucking life.

“So,” Karina starts, tilting her head just slightly, “how long have you been fucking Hyeri?”

You choke on absolutely nothing. Do a spit-take with no drink.

She says it like it’s a joke. Like she’s asking if you’re out of oat milk.

Except she’s not joking.

Not even a little.

 “I—I—what?”

“I mean, I’m assuming it’s Hyeri,” she muses, tapping a finger to her chin. "She did look pretty worn when I passed her in the lobby.”

You wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You wish you could eject yourself into the sun.

You wish she hadn’t said it with that much fucking glee.

“Don’t worry,” she says in a half-shrug. “I’m not gonna tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Thank fuck.

“There is just one thing though…”

Oh fuck.

"I don’t really like being left out."

What the fuck?

"I want in."

What the fuck.

You stand up, pace around the room. Try to gather your thoughts, try to process what exactly she’s proposing here.

Karina wants to fuck you.

 You won’t pretend you haven’t thought about it. That you’re some righteous saint without the need for fantasy. 

But this is Karina you’re talking about.

It’s one thing for you to be caught with Hyeri, but Karina? Pillar of a whole generation? If the two of you were caught it’d be—

“—A PR nightmare?” she supplies. “A scandal? Headline of the century?”

You nod so fast you almost give yourself whiplash.

She just shrugs again, careless, reckless, hot as sin. "Don't care."

You open your mouth. Close it. Try again. "You—you have no idea what you're asking—"

"I do," she interrupts, stepping closer, breath frosting the booth window. Her voice is silk now. A trap you’re already caught in. "I know exactly what I’m asking."

She walks back to the bench, hands bracing behind her, legs spreading just enough to hint at what’s awaiting you.

“I want you like she has you.”

You’re not strong enough. 

You’re not stupid enough to pretend you are.

But even if you managed to steel your resolve, Karina bites her bottom lip. Runs a hand along her crotch.

"I’ve wanted you since the demo."

And you’re moving before you even register it.

*

You’ve soaked in some legendary sights on the label’s dime.

Dawn over the Han River from sixty stories up, neon Tokyo streets glitter‑wet after midnight rain, front-row seats to an Eiffel Tower light show in a suite. Gorgeous, all of them. Low-end bucket‑list kinda stuff.

But this view might just take the cake.

Sweat slicks Karina’s collarbones, soaks the carelessly lifted sports bra, gathers at the dip between her breasts, slides down to where your hands own her hips. Every grind turns your spine to liquid. Every thrust drives you deeper. And every bounce sends those perfect tits—shape and size defying God and physics—swinging in hypnotic rhythm.

“You fill me so good,” she pants, words cutting the hush of the booth, dirty and devotional at once. “Knew you'd feel this good—just knew it." She braces one palm against the glass, the other yanking her own hair into a makeshift ponytail, dragging it off her glowing face. The move juts her chest higher—an unspoken invitation, one you answer with your mouth. You latch on to the reddened mark just above her nipple, tongue finding its way around the sensitive circumference.

She whines.

You suck harder.

She tightens.

And you’re gone.

You should be thinking your job, about morality, about the very real possibility that a lone intern could wander past and see silhouettes doing something distinctly un‑PG behind the frosted glass. Instead, you’re cataloguing micro‑details: the faint scent of her shampoo under the musk of sweat, the tremor in her thigh when she sinks too deep, the almost reverent way her eyes lock on-to you when you hit that spot.

“Been wanting this for so long,” she reiterates, rolling her hips in a tighter circle. “Wanted your cock buried so deep I can’t hit a high note without it in me.”

The image alone nearly finishes you. You grit your teeth, hold your release back with sheer will and bruising fingers at her waist.

“Fuck, Karina—”

Karina leans in, panting against your mouth, grinding harder and harder, chasing her high and yours without a single shred of shame.

“Wanted you so bad,” she whines, breath hot against your ear, “thought about this every time you said my name—every fucking time—”

Your head falls back against the booth wall with a thunk.

You’re losing it.

She feels it—smiles a broken, wicked smile. “Already that close? Poor producer.” She makes a teasing cluck of the tongue, a soft caress to your cheek, then she slams down hard enough to shatter the bench. “Then give it to me,” she growls. “ Give me everything.”

You can’t not obey. 

Pressure builds and so does your pace. Driving into her with a fury you didn’t know you had in you. Karina’s moaning openly now, every last shred of composure thrown to the wind.

Pressure builds then detonates. 

Heat floods every nerve.

You break.

 She follows.

And it’s bliss.

Her cry is earth-shattering, torn from somewhere deep as she clamps down hard around you, milking you for everything you’ve got. Her thighs lock, her body seizes. She’s trembling, gasping, riding wave after wave like she doesn’t know how to stop.

Her nails rake your back, half for balance, half to brand you, and you let her. Let her take. Let her have you. Her breath stutters against your mouth as you kiss through the fallout—sloppy, greedy. A thank-you and a promise and a question all at once.

Aftershocks hit her in uneven jolts, and you revel in the way she twitches around you with each one. You’re still inside her. Still hard. Still pulsing. Still drowning in her.

KArina collapses forward, full-body flush against yours, forehead pressed to your collarbone. Her heartbeat drums against your ribs. You’re shaking. So is she.

For a long, breathless moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your combined panting, then, your lips colliding. 

You’re engrossed. And so is she. So much so that you both miss the sound of the booth door opening.

“And here I thought I came too early,” a voice says from the doorway.

You don’t look right away. You don’t have the mental bandwidth for anything beyond Karina’s skin and the twitch in your cock. 

And besides, you already know exactly what you’ll see.

Your head finally turns toward the door.

Hyeri’s grinning. “You two certainly wasted no time.”

“Hyeri,” you begin, less surprised, more irritated, “ what the fuck are you—”

“Save it,” she interrupts. “You’ll ruin the mood.”

“What fucking moo—”

In an instant Hyeri’s blouse is open again, revealing an absence of fabric over her tits.

You feel Karina tighten.

“Room for one more?” she asks with a sly grin.

You look at Karina.

Karina looks at you.

And Karina—God bless her, damn her, ruin you for life—grins. 

"Yeah," she says, voice high and sweet and so very, very gone. "Okay."

"You good with it, Producer-nim?" she teases.

You are not good.

You are very, very bad.

But Karina’s hips are still pressed against you, and Hyeri’s smile is so knowing, and your cock—traitorous, eager—twitches inside the girl already dripping down your thighs.

You’re fucked.

Yet you nod.

Reluctantly. Helplessly.

(Gratefully.)

Hyeri claps, wickedly pleased. “God, I love consent.”

Then she drops to her knees.

*

You’ve soaked in some legendary sights on the label’s dime.

Dawn over the Han River from sixty stories up, neon Tokyo streets glitter‑wet after midnight rain, Karina, sweat-slick, tits swinging and your name on her breath as she rides you into the Earth’s core.

But this view might just take the cake.

Which is ironic, because there’s no view at all.

Because Karina’s sitting on your face.

Full weight, full warmth, full heaven and hell combined.

Her meaty thighs clamp around your head, her cunt pressed flush against your mouth, slick and perfect and utterly suffocating. Her ass—round, shameless and the urban dictionary definition of fuck you—is covering everything else.

You couldn’t open your eyes even if you wanted to.

And you don’t want to.

Because the raw sensation—the taste of her dripping down your tongue, the way she grinds against your mouth with broken little whimpers—is worth more than any skyline on Earth.

You’re drowning in her.

And if that wasn’t enough?

Hyeri’s riding you at the same time.

Usually, you’d feel her braced against your chest, feel the needy, desperate grip of her hands as she takes everything you have and begs for more with every bounce.

But you suspect her hands are elsewhere: fondling Karina’s bare tits, holding her throat as they duel with their tongues. Either or works. 

Because God if that mental image isn’t Louvre material.

A lick to the clit softens Karina’s grip around your ears and you settle for sound instead.

Wet, filthy kisses sound somewhere above you. Giddy little gasps. The faint slap of a palm against skin. Karina moans into Hyeri’s mouth—or maybe it’s Hyeri moaning into hers—you can’t tell, you don’t care. 

“Fuck, you’re cute,” Hyeri purrs against her, the smacking of lips resuming instantly.

 You feel the words vibrate through Karina’s body, then feel her clench around your tongue.

“Sensitive too,” Hyeri adds. “You like it when I touch you here?” Karina gasps, the result of having her pussy licked and her tits caressed.

Karina tries to answer, but it comes out as a high-pitched whimper instead.

Hyeri laughs softly—not cruel, but giddy, drunk on the power she holds. 

 You hear the slick sound of their mouths meeting again. The sticky, obscene sound of a kiss that isn’t meant for cameras or fans or anything else where clean and polished is the expectation.

Just raw, messy and private.

Karina breaks away from it first, panting hard, lifting her hips just enough that a thin string of slick snaps between your mouth and her pussy.

You catch a glimpse of her when you blink up—face flushed, eyes glassy, lips and nipples swollen from Hyeri’s assault. 

You’d worship her if you could breathe.

But Hyeri’s hand is curling into Karina’s hair, tugging her up—gentle but insistent—and she moans like she’s been waiting for it.

"On your hands and knees, baby," Hyeri coos through another kiss, brushing the hair out of Karina’s sweaty face. "Be a good girl for us."

Karina whimpers, flushed and dazed, but obeys without hesitation, scrambling off your mouth and onto the bench, ass high, head low, presenting herself so shamelessly it’s enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

The second she’s steady, Hyeri slinks in front of her—legs spread, pussy slick and glistening, thighs trembling from earlier—and cups Karina’s flushed cheeks in her hands.

"You know what to do.”

Karina doesn’t hesitate.

She dives in, mouth open, tongue flat against Hyeri’s cunt, licking her like she’s starving for it. Like she needs it more than air.

Hyeri gasps, hips twitching, hand fisting tight in Karina’s hair.  She catches your eye over Karina’s bowed back, grinning like a cat who got the cream.

“Well?” Hyeri says to you, mid-moan. “You just gonna sit there and look pretty?”

You don’t need more encouragement.

You’re behind Karina in an instant, hands gripping her hips—tight, possessive—and line yourself up.

One push. Slow? Yes. Deep? All the fucking way.

Karina cries out into Hyeri’s pussy, body arching towards the flat of the bench. Hyeri laughs, breathlessly. Her hand strokes Karina’s cheek almost tenderly, but her words are anything but.

“Fuck, you’re loud,” she teases. "Who knew you were such a slutty girl?"

You thrust into Karina again, harder this time, savoring the ripple of her ass you do, the obscene wet sounds filling the booth as she tries—and fails—to keep up with both of you.

"He was like this with me, too," Hyeri purrs, hips rolling against Karina’s mouth in lazy, devastating circles. "First time he fucked me? Thought I was gonna cum at the first thrust.”

You’re turned on by the memory, driving yourself intoKarina harder.

Karina whines around Hyeri’s clit, her thighs shaking, her slick dripping down your cock every time you bottom out inside her.

Hyeri threads her fingers tighter in Karina’s hair, guiding her movements now, rocking her face exactly where she wants it.

“She’s a natural, isn’t she?” Hyeri croons, locking eyes with you again. “Makes the prettiest fucking sounds.”

You can’t do anything but nod, the tightness and sight stealing your breath.

Karina's arms tremble where she braces against Hyeri’s thighs. Her moans are constant now—muffled against Hyeri’s.

And you’re so close you can taste it.

Hyeri gasps, grinding down against Karina’s mouth with reckless, frantic need.

"You close?" she teases, voice shaky but still smug. "Gonna fill her up while she makes me cum?"

“Fuck yeah,” you manage to get out. 

Your hand finds its way to Karina’s clit: extra stimulation to make her tighten, to get her closer to her own release, to motivate her to suck Hyeri even harder.  

Your strategy works like a charm, and you’re graced with the sight of Hyeri’s head’s rolling back, a sharp cry escaping her as she cums all over Karina’s face.  “Fuuuuuuck me,” she exclaims, thighs clenching around Karina’s head, hands yanking her closer like she never wants her to stop.

Karina whimpers too, grinding her ass back against you in frantic, desperate little jerks, her own orgasm building with nowhere to go.

And then you snap.

You grab Karina’s hips, pull her flush against you, and empty yourself inside her with a strangled groan, spilling deep into her own trembling body.

Karina falls apart between you both—moaning and sobbing and soaking the bench with her release.

The three of you collapse together, sticky and shuddering and utterly spent.

And despite being suffocated and impaled at the same time, Karina perks up again. She’s still panting, still catching up on oxygen, but that doesn't stop her from asking:

“Now who’s ready for round two?”

*

The booth door swings open.

Hyeri’s hair is a disaster, Karina’s everything is either red, swollen, glistening or all three, and you’re pretty sure you’ve left fingerprints in places you’re contractually forbidden to even think about.

 (And probably teeth marks, if Hyeri’s wincing is anything to go by.)

And yet, somehow, you’re all laughing.

Half-dressed, fully wrecked, riding the tail-end high of the worst—and best—decision you’ve made in years, but still: laughing. 

Karina tugs the hem of her hoodie down like it might erase the obvious evidence of a threesome. Meanwhile, Hyeri buttons maybe one button of her blouse and calls it a day and you’re wiping sweat off your forehead with the sleeve of your shirt when you notice it.

The recording light is still on.

The waveform’s still rolling.

The track: armed. The booth: live.

You lunge for the keyboard. 

Again.

Stop recording.

There are fourteen peaks this time.

You know exactly what they are before Karina even asks, hobbling over as she pulls her sports bra back over her tits.

“What are those?” she asks, peering at the screen with curious eyes.

Hyeri’s already smiling, smugness just emanating from her. “Our orgasms,” she says proudly, like they’re her children.

“Wait, it was recording? The whole time?”

“Courtesy of me,” Hyeri says, with an even bigger smile now. “Turned it on while you two were getting busy. “

“Surprised you’re smart enough to know how,” you tease. And she hits you right back, literally.

“Ow!”

“Gonna fap to this one too, are ya?” she cackles.

“He’s gonna what?” Karina squeaks, slightly turned on.

You barely make it three seconds into the collective laughter before Hyeri steamrolls right through it.

“That’s it!” she exclaims, snapping her fingers. “This could totally work!”

"Work?" you echo. "What do you—?"

“We use this,” she begins with manic glee, dragging the track into the main sequence, “in the final mix.”

Karina’s eyes light up. "Wait, that’s genius!”

You’re frozen. Horrified. Horny.

“We could layer it in,” Karina continues. “Just subtle. Like an Easter egg.”

“A very hot Easter egg,” Hyeri adds, giving you a wicked eyebrow waggle.

You can barely think up a response. Between the countless hours today you’ve spent having sex, agonising about losing your job, and simply dealing with the pair of women before you, the amount of fucks you can currently give is strewn remarkably thin. 

Not thin enough, though.

“This,” you say, pointing to the screen,“is a horrible idea.”

It’s Hyeri’s turn for her eye’s to light up. 

“Hear that Karina?” She steps closer to you, hand going to your exposed cock. “Sounds like he needs some convincing.” 

“Mm,” Karina hums in agreement, fingers making their way up your chest. “Definitely does.” 

You groan, running a hand down your face.

You’ve already lost.

 “...We’ll put it in the song.”

“Yay!” they both squeal at once, pressing quick, sticky kisses to either side of your cheeks.

You sigh, sitting back at the console, exhaustion setting into your bones.

But you’re already thinking about it.

You’re thinking about how those breathy, desperate little sounds could melt into the track.

How no one would ever know except the three of you.

How every time the song plays, it’ll remind you of the heavenly feeling of Karina’s pussy on your tongue and Hyeri’s cunt on your cock.

You sigh.

You’re weak.

But with the two of them broaching yet another round, who could possibly blame you?

Your hand finds the mouse.

Export > Documents > Private > Vocals — The Final Mix.wav

What a fuckin’ Tuesday, huh?

[naval1020]

Navel Displacement Treatment with the help of Neurotherapy - Book your Consultation Slot Now with Best Neurotherapist Naval Kishor!

[revelboo]

TFP Starscream is the only one doing this pet thing right, he gave us a name and everything 😂

Honestly, TFP Shockwave will probably figure it out and get lucky before TFP Starscream does. 18+ mass displaced mech 🌶️

I caved… also: we’re getting Classic Class Blokees for TFOne Starscream and Bumblebee…

Bad Idea Pt 15

TFP Soundwave x Reader

• Shifting under you at your soft little ‘please,’ he tips his head and his servos fidget with your coverings. Hears your breathy noise as he keeps pressing and sliding that tendril up against you as you splay a hand on his chassis for balance, trembling. “If you want the clothes off, you have to stop that for a second,” you whisper, even as you push back against him, eyes hooded. Reaching to stroke a grasper against your cheek, he relents and you tug your top covering off and toss it aside. Servos flexing, he watches you brace on him to stand so you can remove those layers of coverings, baring soft skin. Trusting yourself to him.

• Suddenly not as confident, you avoid looking up at his visored face. Hating you can’t figure out what he’s thinking. You’re so different from him, it has to bother him that you’re not like him. Not living metal, but soft, warm flesh. Awkward now, you lower yourself to straddle him again only to be stopped when he snags your wrist in a grasper. Slowly, those long servos of his slide from the inside of your wrist up along the crook of your elbow and over to your collarbone. Mapping you in surprisingly gentle touches. And then his tendrils are coiling around you again, gripping you so you’re suspended by them over him. Head tipping back to look at you as he pulls you down to him, his visored face brushing against your cheek.

• Can feel your anxious uncertainty adding a bitter edge to your need and isn’t sure how to soothe you except by touch. Servos sliding over you, trying to reassure you that he wants you in return. Likes the feel of your mind, your emotions, mixing with his. That you don’t try to keep him out, can’t. Your emotions so bright as they spark through him. Nuzzling against your cheek and then your throat, he splays his palm against your chest, anchoring himself with the feel of your little heart as he slides the tendril around your thigh up. Stroking against you to feel you arch and his own frame strains, hips lifting when he finds you wet. Wanting this, you.

• Writhing in the grip of his tendrils as one slides up against you and his servos slide up your sides, you shiver. “Don’t tease.” Hips rocking against that coil, a grasper catches both your wrists and lazily tugs them up over your head as his own head tips with predatory interest. Before tipping down and you follow his stare. Breath catching as he frees his spike and the hand on your side slides to your hip, a servo sliding against the skin just below your navel. Feeling the question he can’t actually ask hanging in the air between you. Asking permission. “I need you.” Want to share this with him. To share yourself and to claim him as yours in return.

• Keeping your wrists trapped because he’s not sure he can handle those soft hands on him just yet. Using his servos and tendrils to keep you where he wants you. Tugging you down, finding you and then pulling you all the way down. Servos tightening on you as your silken heat wraps around his spike, hips lifting and frame straining. That sound you just made. Needs to hear it again. To record it to keep forever. His. That sound only for him. And buried inside you, there’s no shutting you out. Your thoughts and emotions pouring into him, drowning him in you. Using his grip to move you on his spike, his hips lifting to drive deep again and again. “S-Soundwave,” you whimper, tugging at your wrists as he bounces you on his spike. Again, please. Say his name. Let him have this and just for a little while forget all the reasons he doesn’t deserve this. To live in just this moment and the feel of you.

• There’s a tendril wrapped around your wrists, two more gripping you just above your knees, keeping you immobile and helpless as he lifts you and drags you down. That thick spike driving deep with each thrust. Toes curling, you buck your hips when he drags you down, lips parting on a cry as his servos slide over you, stroking almost lazily. If not for the way his hips snap up to meet you when he pulls you down and the way he tosses his head back, frame straining, you wouldn’t be able to tell he’s as lost to this as you are. Silent, but desperate. His grip on you shifts, his next thrust hitting a new angle and you cry out, hips bucking. Coming apart as his tendrils yank you down, his spike driving deep as his hips lift. And your hands are free as all of his tendrils hook around your hips and waist as he shudders under you, hips moving in frantic, rocking thrusts, feeling him release inside you. Pinning you in place. Servos cupping your neck and face as he presses his head to yours, bumping his visor against you as those tendrils slide against you, gripping you so tightly you’re almost sure he’s going to leave bruises. Like he thinks you’re going to try to escape. Pressing your mouth against his visor, you lay your head against his neck. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Previous

Next

[gutsby]

Honey Trap

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: You’ve been tasked with two simple jobs: infiltrate Alexandria’s community and bring intel back to your boss by any means necessary. When your entry point into the group takes the form of a familiar blue-eyed archer, you expect this to be your easiest gig yet—that is, until your prey decides to hunt you back.

Warnings: NSFW. Unprotected p-in-v, breeding kink, some wildly unethical investigative techniques, graphic descriptions of violence and gore. Feral Daryl gone wild (and primal), courtesy of this lovely request.

“In espionage terminology, honeypot and honey trap are terms for an operational practice involving the use of a covert agent, to create a sexual or romantic relationship to compromise a target.”

In your mind, the sex was incidental to the mission.

You didn’t have to feel guilty about fucking the man’s brains out if you never meant to do it in the first place.

That was what you kept telling yourself as he shoved your face into the mattress and continued to pound you senseless. When he yanked your head back and nearly dislodged the hair at the roots with the force of each thrust, leaned in close to your ear and smirked.

“Keep grippin’ like tha’ and I’ll put a fuckin’ baby in ya.”

An honest mistake.

He flipped you onto your back and all but devoured your lips, rutting his hips so hard you thought he might displace your cervix as well. Every inch of your taut, aching walls drew him in and clenched him like a vice. You kissed him back, goaded him on, bounced an obscene cadence over his cock, and almost felt the first inklings of fatigue strain your muscles when he dropped his hand to your clit and started rubbing circles.

“Ah, fuck!” you cried, “Just like that, Daryl.”

An innocent slip of the tongue, really.

The longer these gut-wrenching blows and digital strokes continued, the closer you got to the cusp of your release. Were Daryl possessed of even a modicum of civility, you suspected he might have treated your cunt a little kinder, but frankly, the man was all animal in bed. He was a primal being, so cruelly in tune with his baser nature that every time he fucked you raw it was all tongues, teeth, and trembling lips whispering the filthiest, most repugnant things you’d heard in your life. He’d said it had something to do with him being a hunter by trade; you were never quite convinced of it, but you let him breed you like a rabbit all the same.

Presently, Daryl peered down at you with the haziest, most fucked-out look you’d ever seen grace a man’s features. He’d pushed one of your legs straight up to your chest. Two or three thrusts was all either of you had in you from that point on; with the introduction of this new angle, and that added pressure, you both went spiraling toward climax in a matter of seconds.

You threw your head back on the pillow while Daryl tore out of you, wringing his cock over your stomach until every last drop of him had painted that plane of skin.

You melted into the bed. Daryl sopped up the remains of his arousal with a washcloth, brushed a couple fingertips across your belly, and kissed your navel with affection. Then he collapsed to your left for a spell of silence.

A couple minutes later, as if on cue, you both rose from the bed and started dressing yourselves.

You felt no shame in being the first to light up this time. Tugging the pack of Pall Malls from your back pocket, you stepped outside and went fishing for your lighter.

Your eyes captured the dawn of the fresh day rising low on the outskirts of the field, and you smiled. Stuck one muddied cigarette between your teeth and lowered it to the flame you’d brought to life in the other hand. Then you took a seat on the front stoop, stretched your legs out as far as they would go, and watched the morning take shape before you. You took a contented drag.

Operator would have your head if he could see you now.

This was, without a shadow of a doubt, not part of the plan. The fraternizing, frolicking, even semi-regular fucking of your test subject strayed so far beyond the bounds of this mission, and your own ethical norms, that you’d almost forgotten what you were meant to be doing on that brisk November day.

Operator hadn’t forgotten; his aides had assembled the decoy last night. Half a mile from the comfort and calm of your little log cabin, there lay a steel-jaw bear trap nestled under a pile of bright red leaves—‘Real, real red, remember that, honey’—and above it, a target. A leaf a little larger than the rest would be arranged at the top of the mound with a circle drawn on its front, signaling for someone to step there and ensnare their foot.

That was the crux of his plan. Easy as pie.

The rest of this project, by contrast, had taken months of dedicated reconnaissance on your part—tracking and trailing behind this guy, your target, Daryl Dixon. You’d been charged with monitoring the man’s every move with painstaking attention and studying his habits, too. Was he a creature of the night or awake first thing in the morning? Was he rash, wise, or flighty, demonstrably equipped to handle life’s ugliest challenges or liable to run at the first sign of trouble? Most importantly, was he a threat to your community back home or a viable asset? That was what Operator wanted to know.

That was what you had set out to find.

The sex was just an unintended byproduct of that pursuit. Hazard of the job, you kept reminding yourself. You hadn’t lost sight of Operator’s goal at all; you’d simply been obliged to take a different route to get there.

As it turned out, Daryl had caught you in the woods just a few short weeks into your covert surveillance scheme, so you’d been forced to improvise.

Stripped of your anonymity and afraid of raising suspicion in the target, you’d tried striking up a friendship with him. It was Daryl that had been the one to tamper with the platonic seal of that liaison. On one particular occasion that found you tracking the same animal, he’d taken you by surprise and knocked you flat on your ass at the riverbank. He dicked you down, marked you up—even sank his teeth into the flesh of your neck while pinning you down—and made it patently clear that you two were a thing from that point forward.

You weren’t keen on monogamy, especially in this cheap and tawdry context, but damn if it wasn’t nice to have a warm, sturdy body next to yours every once in a while. The last month had passed in an amalgam of quiet, comfort, and peace, before eventually giving way to the foreboding sobriety of this morning, as you always knew it would. You found yourself growing sick with fear.

This was the day you made good on your promise to dear old Operator and brought his plan into action.

Shortly, Daryl joined you on the stoop.

“That’ll kill ya someday,” he snorted, watching you take another toke.

Above your head, he beckoned you with two fingers to pass the cigarette his way. You pretended not to hear.

Daryl scoffed.

“I give ya all eight inches of me, and y’can’t spare me a single one’a yers?” he said, tipping his chin to the tobacco product lodged between your lips. Pleading with you now.

“Seven,” you corrected him. You exhaled.

Without another word, you straightened up and started off toward the woods. Daryl stood, seemingly stunned a moment before bounding after you.

“Eight!” he repeated.

You watched the man emerge in your periphery as he started to trot alongside you. A direct line of sight wasn’t required to spy the indignation on his face.

“Six and a half,” you scrunched your nose, passing a quick but deliberate look over his lower half.

Daryl glanced down at his crotch and, for a second, came to wonder if the appendage hanging between his legs had possibly shrunk in the dozen-odd years since he’d measured it last. His gaze strayed to the ground, then his boots, then his groin once more before turning to you. The smirk at your lips was evident from a single look.

“Fuck you.” He bit back a laugh of his own as he gave you a shove.

Musings on Daryl’s penis length turned gradually to other, more routine topics like hunting, fishing, and the four new love bites you’d found scattered down your body that morning—‘Will you please try to control that rabid fuckin’ mouth of yours next time, Dixon?’—and before long, the two of you were deep in a discussion of what the weather would be looking like in the next few weeks.

Daryl was convinced you’d see snow, you insisted it was still too early to tell, and together, you trudged side-by-side over a stretch of land that was just then starting to make your stomach turn. Gleaming red leaves littered the ground.

Daryl lifted his arms above his head to gesticulate something big and broad, telling you storm clouds were sure to start rolling in, when suddenly, you stopped.

“Why don’t we check the traps?” you asked.

Daryl stalled his steps too, turning to you with a puzzled look.

“Which ones?”

You pointed to a patch of crimson-colored foliage down the way. Daryl followed your gaze and raised an eyebrow.

“I dun’ remember settin’ any traps there,” he said. He eyed a cluster of brambles enveloping the spot and sincerely couldn’t recall ever setting foot on the terrain.

“Just check it. Please.” Your voice was starting to strain.

Up ahead, you saw an unusually tall stack of red sassafras leaves pooled at the base of a tree. Crowning that mound was a circle in black.

You nudged Daryl’s shoulder.

“Go on,” you urged.

Begrudgingly, he set off. The sounds of his footsteps reached your ears a little louder as he stalked his way through the clearing, evidently less than thrilled to make the trek amongst a swarm of thorns.

You watched him walk, at length, to the locale you’d directed him, and you knew there’d be no animal caught in a snare when he checked it. There’d be no body, no trace, no thing to be discovered beneath that brush, and by the time he’d jerked his head up to sneer that he was right, it would be too late.

You padded over to the pile of sassafras leaves and stared down at that ring of dark ink.

‘Like a burst of little ant bites,’ Operator had told you as he’d fluttered his fingers over your ankle. That was all it was and all it was ever meant to be: a nip at your leg and a couple superficial cuts to your skin. Operator’s right-hand man, a guy by the name of Dwight, had set the trap up himself and had rigged it to where the steel jaws of the thing would clamp your ankle with a lot less force than it normally would, all while giving the appearance of having your calf bit in half.

‘Dixon’s gonna be trippin’ over his nutsack to set you free,’ Operator had predicted, grinning wide as he said it, ‘but Dwight’s got the trap outfitted a little differently—ain’t no pryin’ this thing off your foot without the help of a bona fide professional, see?’

‘It won’t hurt you any— just...tough to take off is all.’ Dwight had added, casting a nervous glance at Operator.

‘Right. Painless.’

Those parting words rang a vicious course in your skull as you stood above the contraption now. Legs shaking something awful and feet refusing to move, you tried to swallow your fears and damn near hurled them all back up when Daryl’s voice broke out a moment later,

“Ain’t nothin’ here!”

Your cue. You lifted your foot.

“Honey?”

No time. He’d spot you any second now.

With all the glamor and ceremony of a person approaching the scaffold, you brought your foot down.

The moment your heel struck the plate—the one you knew was buried deep within those leaves—a pair of springs roused the jaws of the trap in less than an instant and snapped your calf within its teeth even quicker, it seemed. You hardly had the time to react, much less retreat, but when the thing came down and caught you in its grip, you sure as hell knew it had you.

This wasn’t an ant bite, a hornet sting, or a flesh wound from a swarm of horseflies. The trap sailed straight through flesh and bone and made a jarring crunch once its teeth had reconvened across your lower leg. A fragment of your shin splintered out through the skin.

You were screaming bloody murder before your body ever hit the ground.

It was quite possibly the dumbest endeavor you’d ever attempted, but your fingers clawed frantically at the jaws of the trap, trying to pry them apart.

“FUCKING FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!”

You watched blood jet from rows of jagged puncture wounds.

You heard footsteps thunder ahead, then halt, then give way to the sight of a set of hands thrusting in, joining your efforts to extract the steel from your flesh.

The metal fangs didn’t move.

“Down, down, down, push down— oh God, no, move it there—” Daryl was scrambling, frenziedly trying to tell you to press your foot on the springs to constrict them.

You couldn’t feel your foot, much less move it. You tried jerking your knee upward instead.

Another shriek tore through your chest when every one of your lesions took a hit—unyielding steel shredding more of you than you were of it.

Daryl seized your thigh and eyed your widening gashes.

“Don’t!” he bellowed, far too late but shouting it anyway, “Honey, no, no, please—”

He scarcely knew what he was saying, and you barely heard him. You were draining blood like a stuck pig and losing color in your face even faster. Your head started swimming with the loss of every drop.

Just as you swayed and tried to steady yourself in place, Daryl’s eyes darted to the space right behind you, where a cluster of walkers were shuffling out between the trees.

He clambered for his cross-bow and got back on his feet, moving fast against the pack to start picking them off one-by-one. As he lodged bolts in their brains and took knives to their eyes, you sat there and grabbed your knee, savagely wrestling the steel while red began to flood your vision.

This time, it wasn’t blood but a violent, blinding rage.

“You fucker!” you screeched, raking your fingers over the immotile trap, “Goddamn cocksucking fucker!”

You gripped the thing even tighter in your hands and wrung the metal like it was somebody’s neck—that of Dwight, or Operator, or anyone else to blame for this grotesque horror before you.

They’d set you up. Dwight hadn’t rigged it any safer; he’d boobytrapped the fucking bear snare to make it snap your leg in two. And Operator had given the order. Their goal wasn’t to feign an injury so much as it was to maim you, indelibly, so Daryl would have no choice but to bring you back to his home in Alexandria, and keep you there. You couldn’t believe you’d been so naïve. Every fiber of your being, it seemed, pulsated its wrath beneath your skin.

So wholly immersed in this fit of rage and all but dead below the knee, you shook that rough, bloody stump like it was somehow to blame for your predicament. Heedless of the fluids that came leaking out, of the damage sure to follow, of the sound of Daryl returning beside you in a hurry and begging you to stop.

“Those bastards,” you wept through wet, baring teeth.

Your words barely registered in Daryl’s brain. All he knew was that he needed to prop you up, keep you conscious, and find some materials for a makeshift tourniquet in the next couple minutes. Just as he started to map out that critical move, though, a memory flashed before his mind. Suddenly he was sprinting back across the way he’d came to the bag he’d dropped in the clearing. Almost tripped over his own two feet fumbling to get it open.

You closed your eyes and started to rock back and forth.

“Channel four, do you copy?”

“Dixon to channel four. I have a— a woman in need of emergency help. She’s hurt real bad.”

“Dozen miles out, ‘round Culpeper and Stevensburg.”

You moved your hands from your calf up to the crown of your skull, kneading the skin like it just might banish the waves of nausea and delirium that were starting to take root. Your vision was spinning and dimming each time you chanced to look around you. Colors all bled together.

Your companion kept rattling off names and places and ‘do you copy’s ‘til it seemed he’d turn blue in the face talking into that radio. At length, another voice crackled across the line, and Daryl stopped dead in his tracks,

“Jesus?”

You froze in place too.

In the throes of this blunt trauma-induced hysteria, you sincerely thought Daryl might be talking to a higher power just then. You opened your eyes and tried to wave him over as your body seized with fear. Unfortunately for you, the man was busy barking into the receiver.

“Tell him I ain’—” you whimpered, clawing the air out in front of you, “I ain’t ready.”

Upon seeing your gestures and the poor, frightened look on your face, Daryl stopped once more and dropped to his knees down in front of you.

“’S’wrong?” His eyes already surveying your body for any further signs of harm.

You sniffled, “I ain’t ready to see Jesus just yet.”

“Wh— how come?” Daryl knit his eyebrows together.

“Too many sins on the soul, Saint Peter’ll beat my ass.”

Your mind had worked itself up to a fever pitch at this point, your words coming slurred and near-incoherent. Daryl blinked for a second until it all clicked in his head. Then he said softly, almost wanting to smile,

“We’re not goin’ to meet our Maker, hon, he’s just a friend’a mine.”

“Where’d you find her, Daryl?”

You jumped at the sound of the radio and started to scoot back—dragging the bear trap in tow. Your leg had already gone numb to all sensation, but Daryl saw a thin strip of flesh go peeling off as you moved. He caught your arm and held you firm in place.

“Don’t move, baby,” he pleaded, “Yer just makin’ it worse on yerself.”

Then, to Jesus: “Found her on a— a supply run this morning. Please hurry.”

The man on the other end of the line gave his assent, asked a couple more garbled questions, and shortly ended the conversation. Daryl discarded the radio just as fast and crawled over to take your head in his hands as soon as he did. He shook it fiercely back and forth as your eyelids were just then threatening to close.

“Hey, hey, stay with me, Y/N,” Daryl spoke over and over, patting a desperate measure on your cheeks.

Your complexion was bloodless. Sweat, dirt, saliva, and streaks of garnet red all stained your person in a gory sort of mosaic, too gruesome for Daryl to tear his gaze from.

He pinched your face and pleaded hard, voice breaking, “Honey, stay here— I-I need you awake.”

You swallowed and nodded to nothing at all, eyes scanning the skyline and seeing great globs of gray invade your vision. You were bleeding, seeping, oozing that awful red stuff and feeling it pool about your feet, but there, on the horizon, there was little more than tiny spirals of gray. The sight brought Daryl’s prior weather prediction to mind, and presently, you managed a smile.

“Storm’s comin’,” you mumbled.

You weren’t sure when it started or how it arrived, but a rainfall did reach you at length. Daryl had gathered you up in his arms and squeezed you tight to his chest, rocking you side to side and begging you not to die—‘Die? I feel fine’ you’d grumbled as sparks and flames and fairies danced quietly before your eyes—when droplets of moisture came trickling down from the sky.

That rain went from a drizzle to a downpour in a matter of minutes, and all Daryl could do was drag your two bodies under the shade of a tree and hold you to him. You weren’t sure how long you waited there.

Despite your best efforts, you suspected you might have dozed for a minute or two, because when your eyes had snapped back open from what felt like an extra long blink, you heard footsteps shake the earth beneath you. You glanced down with bloodshot, bleary eyes and saw some fabric fastened tight around your leg and a medley of blue, black, and red painted all down your calf.

“Ew,” you said aloud, your consciousness hovering somewhere far above your head. It was like this body wasn’t yours at all—a mere wax-made effigy, and a shitty one at that—so you felt a bit more at liberty to speak your mind.

Frankly, you didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

Before you knew it, you were being seized by your arms and legs, and you hardly even questioned it.

“Get the door, Rick, dammit.”

“Watch her foot, watch her foot!”

“Fuck’s sake, I got it.”

From what you could make out, you were being hammock-carried by three burly men who were blinking hard against the sheets of rain coming down and shouting extra loud to be heard over the downpour. At your side was a long-haired, handsome sort of guy with eyes the color of the Mediterranean; at your head, another blue-eyed, bearded stud that could’ve easily been a cop in a past life; at your feet, a terror-stricken, and very shirtless, Daryl, holding a healthy foot in one hand and a mangled, steel-shredded lump in the other.

If you weren’t currently bleeding to death, you almost would’ve reckoned this a lovely time to visit Paris.

The trio eased you into the bed of their battered S-10 Chevy. Your head lolled into the lap of the cop, and Daryl squeezed your hand. Then he stepped back over to help his Fabio dupe of a friend at the foot of the bed, and they slowly brought your leg to rest at an elevated level. The two exchanged a few hushed words.

Your eyelids were feeling especially heavy at this point and nearly primed to close, when all of a sudden, the cop tensed below you.

A rough, calloused hand pushed the strap of your tank top a little to the left—and not at all in the way you were hoping—and sharply, the man’s voice broke out:

“Daryl, she’s been bit.”

[whumppmuhw]

Whumptober Day 14: No anesthesia

tw: medical whump, noncon surgery, surgery without anesthesia, intimate whumper, noncon touching (non-sexual), blood eehehehe I love this prompt and trope good shit right there

Whumper made the first incision, right down the middle, collarbone to navel. Whumpee had too many restraints to squirm. Their gag prevented them from screaming. Whumper soaked up as much blood as they could. Then came the second incision, across the abdomen, right under the rib cage. Again, Whumpee could do nothing. Whumper reached inside Whumpee with a gloved hand. They were careful not to displace Whumpee's organs, but it felt good to have a hold on Whumpee that they previously couldn't attain. Whumper's main purpose for the procedure was research and curiosity, but beyond that was a longing for the intimacy that came with being inside of someone. Whumper had fantasized of organs and bones and muscles all in his grip, Whumpee helpless as they took control of Whumpee at a deeper, more physical level. Whumper took his hand out of Whumpee. They removed that hand's glove and changed it to a fresh, sterile one. With their other hand they picked up a small camera. "Hold still," Whumper instructed, "and breathe easy. This next part will go much smoother if you cooperate." Whumpee's panicked, rapid breaths through their nose slowed to deep, full ones. Whumpee became less tense and Whumper muttered a "mhm, just like that," as they prepared for what was next. Whumper lifted the flaps of skin up one by one, taking pictures of Whumpee's internal structure. They could see Whumpee trying their hardest to stay calm as Whumper temporarily shifted things around. Whumper could only imagine what it felt like for their patient. Whumpee was scared in a way they never had been. Whumper had crossed a boundary that Whumpee never imagined being crossed, and every time Whumper touched their insides with that gentle, yet controlling touch of theirs, Whumpee felt a shiver go up their spine. One side of Whumpee felt the pain of the invasive surgery and the restraints digging in, and wanted to lash out, to scream for Whumper to stop every time they felt Whumper's touch in a place it shouldn't be. Whumpee's other side recognized that course of action wasn't possible, and instead kept as still and calm as they could so Whumper could finish up faster. Whumper had to admit to themself, this was fun. Not only were they learning about human anatomy in a direct and fascinating way, but who better to operate on then their very own Whumpee, who just couldn't say no! Whumper oohed and ahhed at seeing the human body laid out before them like this. They wished they could keep Whumpee open like this for days as they took a plethora of pictures and notes and felt the thrill that came with holding Whumpee's insides. Whumper finished taking the pictures and observations they wanted an hour after the procedure began, and set down their camera. To finish, they placed both hands on the two sides of Whumpee's rib cage, fingers gently stroking bones, and felt Whumpee's chest rise and fall with each breath alongside their beating heart. "Thank you, Whumpee," Whumper said quietly, like they were sharing a secret. "This has been a very pleasant and educational time for me. Your body is beautiful, truly something to marvel at." Whumpee wanted to squirm at that comment and Whumper's hands, a knot twisting in their stomach. "Don't be afraid, I've taken great care to make sure everything's still where it's supposed to be. Once I've stitched you up, it'll be like this never happened. Though I bet you and I won't forget." Whumper removed his hands from Whumpee's chest, then put on a new set of gloves and picked up a needle and thread. They moved back to Whumpee and began the meticulous process of putting them back together again. Whumpee hated the pain and wished it would be over. They knew Whumper was putting stitches in, their work done, but the constant piercing from the needle and the pulling of the thread was getting to be too much. Whumpee tried to yell out and failed. Whumper acknowledged this. "Don't be so impatient, this won't take long." They were nearing the end of the first incision and would soon stitch up the second.

A few minutes later, going by quickly for Whumper and painfully slow for Whumpee, the stitching was finished. Whumper breathed a sigh of relief at a job well done; Whumpee at the end of a horrible trial. Whumper took off Whumpee's gag and took their camera and notes journal to their study, leaving Whumpee to recover and take some deep breaths. Whumpee could feel the ghosts of Whumper's hands in their body, and they felt icky. Neither of them would forget that day.

[peerlessscowl]

his wet cat vibes have bewitched me

(matchmaking starter for @lilythofthevallites)

"What on - ?"

Several things happened to Raven at once.

He had heard the chattering of their jailers overhead, attempting to keep himself from grinding his teeth, wanting to shout skyward, but knowing that ultimately it would lead nowhere. He heard the hissing of his saints-forsaken air patron, the mocking laughter in his ears, practically felt the glee dripping down his neck like rain that had gotten underneath his coat.

The card had appeared in his pocket, stiff card stock, pointed edges digging into his skin until he had fished it out, eyes skimming over the words written on it before registering that it seemed to be some sort of…adoption plea? He had the time to flip the card over to read the name Lilith in ornate metallic script.

And then, quite suddenly, he felt the familiar infuriating sensation of being buffeted by wind, but with more force, more control this time, lifting him to the tips of his toes and giving him not a moment to even consider fighting back before he was bodily dragged from his position at the outskirts of the ballroom, tugged from the shadows looming in the hall out into the bright lights of the dance floor, as though some anchor at his navel was attached to an invisible line that he was being reeled to, his toes scuffing against the shining, buffed floor.

He was stopped very suddenly - thankfully, just before colliding with a young lady, soft of feature and bright in the eyes. The stop was so abrupt he nearly fell to his knees, but recovered his balance well enough.

Once more, he felt the curling laughter of air in his ears. Now play, it hissed at him, make nice.

The urge to snarl was dampened by the girl blinking innocently at him.

And then he understood. Aided by the miserable weeks (days? Hours? How was he to know?) he had spent in the morbid toy house, the pieces fit together as he raked his gaze across the dance floor to find everyone else had been quite displaced from where they stood, presented to someone else as though for inspection.

He could not remember the contents of the card exactly, but it had indicated that she was friendly - no, perhaps more than friendly. Perhaps closer to eager.

Before she could open her mouth to confirm his suspicions; "I'm not…you don't want me."

[mudaship39]

Character Questionnaire for BIPOC and Disabled QTIPOC Character Creation of the BIPOC Qtipoc and Disabled Futurism Project 

What is their name? Full name? Nickname?

Do they have a separate Indigenous name and nickname?

What is their racial identity?

What is their cultural identity? What clan are they from? What bands or tribes are they? What nation are they from?

Are they connected or are they displaced disconnected diaspora?

Do they wear any regalia?

Do they wear Indigenous jewelry?

Do they have any Indigenous traditional tattoos?

What is their role in their community? What is their duty in their clan, tribe, & nation?

Are they white Natives, Asian Natives, West Asian (Middle Eastern) Natives, Black Natives, or Latine Natives?

What is their sex gender gender identity and sexuality?

Are they two spirit of Turtle Island or mahu/fakaleiti/fa’afafine/maohi of Oceania?

What are their pronouns? What are their neopronouns? He/him, she/her, they/them, and, or xer/xers?

Are they monogamous or polyamorous?

Are they disabled? Are they autistic? Are they neurodivergent? Are they chronically ill? Do they have any personality disorders? Do they have mental illnesses?

Are they abled bodied? Are they allistic? Are they neurotypical?

Do they have add, adhd, hyperlexia, ocd, and or dyslexia?

Do they have DID or dissociative identity disorder, schizophrenia, bd or bipolar disorder, & or bpd or borderline personality disorder?

Do they have any chronic illnesses? Asthma, Crohn’s disease, eczema, epilepsy, etc.

Do they have mental illnesses? 

What is their religion and spirituality?

What languages do they speak?

How tall are they?

How much do they weigh?

What is their frame, bone structure, poise?

What is their head shape?

What is their dominant hand?

What is their hand size?

How would you describe their hand?

What is their shoe size?

What is their bwh measurements if applicable?  

What is their hairstyle?

What is their hair color?

How is their hair texture?

What is their hair state,

What is their hair look?

Do they have any facial hair

Do they have any body hair 

What is their skin tone?

What is their skin condition?

Do they have any scars or birthmarks? 

What is their eye color?

What is their eye shape?

How is their eyesight?

Do they wear eyewear?

Do they wear glasses or contacts? 

Do they wear makeup? What kind? 

How old are they? By our standards since this is afro futurism, native, & poc futurism about poc coded and native coded metahuman and superhuman characters living from the ancient past to the far future

When is their birthdate? Month day and year?

Whats their Chinese zodiac and western astrology sign

Do they have tattoos or piercings?

What kind of piercings?

What kind of ear piercings do they have?

This can be a tragus ear piercing, a conch ear piercing, a helix ear piercing, a daith ear piercing, a snug ear piercing, a lobe ear piercing, an anti tragus ear piercing, a rook ear piercing, an anti helix ear piercing, a forward helix piercing, a lobe transversal ear piercing.

It can be high lobe, barbell, helix stud lobe, or upper lobe piercings on their ear

What kind of body piercings do they have?

It can be vertical or horizontal eyebrow piercing spiked barbells on their eyebrow. It can be Medusa diamond stud piercing above their lip, it can be dimple studs in their cheeks, it can be a spiked labret on their chin, it can be a septum ring piercing that goes through their nose, it can be a barbell bridge piercing between their eyes on top of their nose, it can be a rhino barbell nose ring piercing on the top of their nose, it can be nasallang piercings on the left and right side of their nose, it can be a third eye stud piercing on their forehead, it can be a barbell piercing in their navel, or even a barbell piercing on their chest.

What do they have tattoos of? What kind of tattoos? Retro by their standards and modern by ours or futuristic by ours and contemporary by theirs in the form of holographic tattoos. Do they have magical tattoos?

What apparel do they have? What kind of clothes do they wear? What is their clothing style? What level is the sophistication? What sizes in clothing do they wear? 

Where are they from? 

Where do they live now? 

List of possible locations are in the location glossary of the google doc.

Which city, county, state, & or country do they live in?

Do they live on Earth? Or off world since humanity and aliens left Earth and colonized the rest of space?

Which colonized and terraformed planet, moon, comet, asteroid, or planetoid do they live on? Where in the planet, star system, & galaxy do they reside?

What is their citizenship status?

What kind of housing do they live in? 

What is their personality?

What are their virtues? What are their vices? 

What are their strengths? What are their flaws?

What kind of voice do they have? What is their vocal tone? 

What are their favorite foods?

What is their favorite drink?

What are their hobbies and interests?

What is their economic class?

What is their political party affiliation?

Are they conservative, liberal, progressive leftist, green party, third party voter, no party affiliation, non voter?

Story is post land back. So this can include voting in Indigenous tribes/clans and nations

Are they communist, anarchist, radical, & or militant.

What is their backstory?

What is their occupation?

High school jobs?

Collegiate jobs?

Current job? 

What clubs were they apart of? In high school and college

What sports did they play? In high school and college? 

Are they a high school dropout, a high school graduate, a college dropout, or a college graduate?

Are they a graduate of a two year community college, a four year university, an Ivy League university or military academy?

Did they graduate from a vocational or trade school?

What degrees do they have? Associates bachelors masters or doctorates? In what field or fields? Do they have a minor, major, or dual major?

Tell me about their parents, aunts and uncles?

How many siblings do they have? Are they the oldest, youngest, or middle child? Or are they an only child? Do they have any cousins?

Are they an BIPOC ex of the queer and trans Asian Pasifika and Latine Native superhero/superheroine main character Kana’i Makoa Latu/Ataahua Kamalani Latu?

Are they single, dating, widowed, divorced, or married? Tell me about their spouse(s) or partner(s)?

Are they in a monogamous or polyamorous relationship or marriage?

How many children do they have? Are these children adopted or biological? Tell me about their children.

What kind of pets do they have? Do they have regular pets, magical pets, or alien pets?

What is their mode of transportation? List of transportation are in the modes of transportation glossary of the google doc.

Do they use a hoverboard, hover bus, hover bike, hover motorbike, hover quad, hover motorcycle, hover sport bike, or hover vehicle (car, truck, SUV, etc)

What kind of weapons do they use? List of weapons are in the weapon glossary of the google doc.

Do they use a power armor suit or a mech suit?

Questions for native coded characters and poc coded characters of Warring Kingdoms:

Where is their homeland?

What are its people like?

Are they aware of its history?

What is their opinion of home?

Where is their place of birth?

What settlement, village, town, and or city is it? 

What is their place of birth's name?

Is it part of a kingdom? 

Is it part of an empire, a federation, or a confederation? 

What was the area like?

How did it affect them?

Did they witness any historical events?

If so, how did that event impact them?

What did their parents and or foster parents do for a living?

What was their standing in the community?

Did their family stay in one area or move around a lot?

How did they get along with their parents?

What was their birth position in the family?

How did they get along with each of their siblings?

What was their family life like?

What race are they?

What species are they?

What humanoid race are they?

Are they a hybrid with a humanoid race?

What is their variant or subrace?

Are they human?

Are they magical human (poc coded human)?

Are they Indigenous magical human (Indigenous coded human)

Are they non magical human?

Are they Homo magi (non native and white coded human)?

What about their race or species? 

What do they look like?

Are there different kinds of this species?

Do they have special or magical abilities?

Do they require special homes?

What do they eat?

Do they have magic? If yes, what kind?

How does magic work?

What is their relationship with it?

Growing up were they in the majority or a minority?

How were they treated by other nearby races and species?

Did this impact their outlook in any way?

Did it affect their personality?

How do they feel about other humanoid races and species?

Were there any traumatic experiences in their early years? 

Such as death of a family member, abandonment, orphaned at an early age, etc?

What was childhood like for them?

How do they view the heroes, myths, legends of their kingdom or country?

What is their class? Are they a fighter, warrior, barbarian, ranger, druid, bard, wizard, witch, warlock, sorcerer, or paladin?

Are they a hybrid class?

Are they a special class?

What is their subclass

What is their rank?

Are they F class, E class, D Class, C class, B class, A class, or S rank?

What is their background

What class are they?

What is their alignment?

What magical tools do they use

List of magical tools in the google doc

Do they use a wand, a mage staff, a magical baton, or a broomstick?

Which village, town, city, kingdom, empire do they live in?

What is their normal daily routine?

How do they feel and react when this routine is interrupted for some reason?

What are their hobbies when they are not adventuring or training?

What do they do for relaxation?

What things do they do for enjoyment?

What interests do they have?

How do they normally dress, when not in their adventuring gear?

Do they like to dress up or down to relax?

Do they have a look or style? If so, describe it.

What do they normally wear in bed at home?

What do they normally wear in bed while adventuring?

Do they wear any identifiable jewelry?

Where do they normally put their weapons, magic items, or other valuables when they are sleeping?

What morning or evening routines do they normally have?

Do these change when they are adventuring?

What pastime or hobby that they participate in regularly gives them the most enjoyment?

What pastime or hobby that they participate in regularly gives them the least enjoyment?

Do they read the mail, letters, telegram, or newspaper?

If so, which sections and how often?

What is his/her/their routine

How do they get around locally in their settlement, village, town, city of their kingdom?

What is their idea of a good evening's entertainment?

Do they get seasick, airsick, motion sick (automobile or animal)?

Do they like riding animals?

Any fears in traveling?

What sorts of general belongings or equipment do they take when traveling or adventuring?

What are their hangout places?

Do they go to a bar after work?

Do they play pool?

Do you go dancing? To clubs, ballroom, or masquerade? Who goes with them?

What do they read?

Scientific textbooks, historical novels, myths and legends, maps, cookbooks, romances, news magazines, science fiction, fantasy, horror, the newspaper, short stories?

What music do they like?

Do they have a favorite artist, band, singer, or bard?

Will they listen to or sing the same songs over and over, or does it drive them nuts when people do that?

How do they exercise? Work out at the gym, walks in the morning, run marathons, play sports, couch potato?

Where do they live?

Do they rent or own?

Apartment, house, condo, hotel, motel, mansion, or castle?

How close are the neighbors?

Is it a good neighborhood?

What color is the house?

Which floor are they on?

Do they have a lawn?

What about a flower garden?

Does their house have an attic or basement?

What does their furniture look like?

Do they buy antiques?

What are their walls covered with? Wallpaper, art, paintings, sculptures, busts, and or photos?

What sorts of curtains do they have?

Frilly lacy ones, Venetian blinds, pull-down shades?

Do they, their roommates, household, or their servants keep their house clean?

Is it dusty?

Is the bathtub or shower moldy or coated in rust?

Do they clean it herself?

What do their desk or workspace look like?

Small and cramped, huge and expansive, covered in drifts of books and papers? neatly ordered and clean?

Can they find what you're looking for when you need it?

What color are their sheets?

Satin or cotton?

Patterned with flowers, or covered with pictures of toy robots?

What sorts of food do they eat?

Do you cook their own breakfast, lunch, or dinners?

Are they a good cook, a gourmet, or a terrible cook?

Do they eat out?

Are they on a diet?

Where do they vacation, and how often?

Do they have any pets?

Do they keep a calendar or address book?

Where do they keep it?

Did they leave a Will?

What does it say?

Do they have magical powers?

Are they part of a guild?

What faction are they a part of?

List of factions in the google doc

What guild are they a part of

Are they part of a knight and or paladin order?

What kind of mount do they use?

What kind of familiar do they use?

Do they have an animal companion?

Are they an adventurer? Are they a guild member?

If so why do they dungeon dive as an adventurer?

Why do they go on quests or guild missions as a guild member?

If they are a warlock who is their patron?

Are they demigods? Are the the child, grandchild, or descendant of a god or goddess? If so from which pantheon?

Are they Atlantean, Amazonian, Vanir, or Asgardian hybrids?

Are they half elves, half orcs, half trolls, half goblins, or half dwarves, etc?

Are they missing any body parts as someone disfigured? Did they have these part or parts replaced with prosthetic limbs?

Do they have an electrical, steam, & gas powered automotive armored prosthetic arm or leg?

Do they, or did they, have any role models?

Do they have any heroes or idols, either contemporary or from legend?

If so, have they ever met them?

Did they ever become disillusioned with former heroes or idols?

If so, why and what were the circumstances?

When did they decide to become an adventurer?

Why have they chosen to risk their life as a career?

What do they expect to get out of being an adventurer?

Satisfaction, glory, money, fame, freedom, redemption, etc?

What, if anything, would make them stop adventuring?

Such as death of a loved one, marriage, mutilation, money, position, old age?

Do they have any dreams or ambitions?

If not, why?

How does adventuring fit into this dream, or does it at all?

What are their short term goals?

What are their long term goals?

If these goals seem at odds with each other or with their dreams?

How they reconcile the differences?

How do they seek to fulfill these dreams, goals, & ambitions?

Do they have any great rational or irrational fears or phobias?

If so, what are the origins of or reasons behind them?

What, if anything, would it take for them to be able to overcome this?

How do they react when this fear manifests itself?

Are they willing to discuss, or even admit to, the situation?

What are their attitudes regarding material wealth?

Do they see wealth as a mark of success, or just as a means to an end?

How do they generally treat others?

Do they trust easily (perhaps too easily) or not?

Are they introverted (shy and withdrawn) or extroverted (outgoing) or both?

Are they a humble soul or blusteringly proud?

Do they act differently than they feel (concealing their true thoughts)?

What habits would they find most annoying in friends?

Is there any race, species, creed, alignment, religion, class, profession, political viewpoint, or the like against which they are strongly prejudiced, and why?

How do others typically react to them?

Why, in their opinion, do they act that way?

What are their most annoying habits?

What is their favorite food?

What is their favorite drink?

What is their favorite treat (desert)?

Do they favor a particular cuisine?

Do they savor the tastes when eating or "wolf down" their food?

Do they like food mild or heavily spiced?

Are there any specific foodstuffs that they find disgusting or refuse to eat?

Are they allergic to any food?

What are their favorite color(s)?

Is there any color that they dislike?

Do they have a favorite or hated song, type of music, and or instrument?

What is their favorite bard song?

If they have a favorite scent, what is it?

What is their favorite type of animal?

Do they have an animal affinity, and if so for what?

Is there a certain type of animal that they hate or fear?

Are they allergic to any kinds of animals?

Do they have any allergies?

Do they have any food restrictions?

Is there anything that enrages them?

Is there anything which embarrasses them?

How do they react to being teased about it?

Do they enjoy "roughing it", or do you prefer their creature comforts?

Do they believe in the gods or not?

Do they have a patron Deity?

Are they devout or impious?

Do they actively worship and proselytize or do they simply pay lip service?

What lengths would they go to defend their faith?

Was their faith influenced or molded by anyone special?

Do they belong to the Orthodox Church, or a fringe element thereof?

Is the group accepted, frowned upon, or considered heretics?

Is their church an accepted religion where they grew up or did they have to conduct its services in secret?

How did this affect their faith and life?

Have they ever been persecuted for their faith?

If so, when and how did they handle it?

Can they kill?

When did they decide (or learn) that they could?

What happened and how did they handle it?

When do they consider it okay to kill?

Under what circumstances?

When do they consider it wrong to kill?

Under what circumstances?

What would they do if someone else attempted to  or successfully did kill under their "wrong" circumstances, what would be their reaction?

What if it were their enemy?

What if it were their friend?

What if it were an innocent?

What if the opponent were not in control of their own actions?

Such as under duress, charmed, dominated, possessed?

What would they do if someone shot at (attacked) them?

What would they do if something were stolen from them?

What would they do if they were badly insulted publicly?

What would they do if a good friend or relative were killed by means other than natural death?

What is the one task that they would absolutely refuse to do?

What do they consider to be the worst crime someone could commit and why?

How do they feel about government (rulers) of the federation, empire, or confederation in general?

Why do they feel that way?

Do they support the current government of their homeland?

If so, how far are they willing to go to defend the government? If not, do they actively oppose it?

Do they belong to an anti-government organization?

If so, describe the group and it's aims.

What form of government do you believe is the best?

Such as democracy, monarchy, meritocracy, anarchy, aristocratic rule, oligarchy, matriarchy, etc and why?

Have they ever been persecuted for their political stance?

If so, describe the occurrence and how it affected them?

Are they a member of any non-religious group, cause, order, or organization?

If so describe it, its goals, and membership.

How loyal are they to this group and why?

How did they become a member?

If they are a former member, did they leave voluntarily or involuntarily?

If voluntarily or involuntarily, why?

Was it under good (amicable) conditions or bad?

Are they being sought or hunted by the organization?

If so, by whom and with what intent?

Such as to murder them, to force their return through blackmail or coercion, to spy on them and make sure they do not reveal any of the groups secrets?

Do they have any unusual habits or dominant personality traits that are evident to others?

If so, describe them and how you acquired them, as well as when they might be more noticeable and what causes them?

How do they react if made fun of for any of these things?

Do they have any unusual or nervous mannerisms, such as when talking, thinking, afraid, under stress, or when embarrassed?

If so, are there any reasons behind them from their past?

Do they have an unusual gait or accent?

If so, where did they acquire them?

Are there any circumstances where they become more (or less) evident?

How do they feel and react if made fun of for any of these things?

What place would they most like to visit?

What annoys them the most?

What (if any) are their favourite forms of art?

What is their most treasured possession?

What things could he/she/they not live without?

Do they have a good luck charm?

If your life were to end in 24 hours, what 5 things would they do in those remaining hours?

Do they have a "black-and-white binary" view of reality or can they see shades of grey?

Do they prefer to tear down or build up?

Are they deliberate or spontaneous?

Do you prefer the city or the country?

How do they feel about magic, myth, and the supernatural?

Do they have any close friends?

If so, who and what are they like?

What is the history of their relationship(s) with them?

Do they currently have a best friend whom they would protect with their reputation or their life?

If so, who are they and what caused them to feel so close to them?

What would have to happen for them to end this relationship?

Do they have any bitter enemies?

If so, who are they, what are they like, and what is the history of their feud with them?

Have they defeated them before?

How might these enemies seek to discomfit them in the future?

What valuable or important contacts do they have?

How did they come to know them?

Which person(s) or group(s) are they most loyal to?

List any past serious relationships that they have had, and give a brief overview of the relationship(s).

How do they think others generally perceive them?

If someone crossed their path, what would they  do?

Who is their most trusted ally?

Who do they trust, in general?

Who do they despise and why?

Is their image consistent?

Do people see them in similar ways?

Do they deliberately present themselves differently in different situations, and how?

For what would they die for?

For whom would tyou go to extremes for?

Who does they turn to when they are in trouble?

What is the worst thing someone has done to them?

What are their general reaction to an attractive member of the same and or opposite sex who lets them know they are available?

How do they get along with others in the same field and/or work environment?

How can they be blackmailed, beaten, and tricked (by PCs or NPCs)?

Have they lost any loves?

How did they handle the situation (short & long term)?

Who would miss them, should they go missing?

Who might protect them?

Who might be convinced to sell them out?

How close are they to their friends?

What do their friends know about them?

What do their friends not know about them?

What do their friends know and not know about them?

Do they live with anyone (housemates, roommates, relatives, friends, near-strangers, family friend, spouse, boyfriend, girlfriend, lovers)?

Are they a member of any special interest groups?

What is their level of involvement?

What is their current status with local law-enforcement?

Do they have a record of cooperation or non-cooperation with authorities?

Do they have a file with local, national or international law enforcement?

Where and how were they educated?

Who trained them in their class or job?

What was their relationship with their teacher(s)/mentor(s)?

How did they happen across this teacher or mentor?

Was their mentor(s) kind, stern, cruel, indifferent?

Is this person or people still alive?

Is the institution that trained them still in existence?

Were they forced into their profession by parents or peers?

Did circumstances dictate their choice of profession?

Were they a prize student or did they just barely pass?

Look at their skills. How did they acquire them? Especially the unusual ones?

Have they ever done anything else for a living?

How do they function in combat?

How would they best be defeated?

Have they ever received any awards, medals, or honors?

What have they done that was considered "outstanding" in their occupation by others in their field?

What are their long-term goals in work?

Describe any traumatic experiences in their present occupation that has affected you deeply in some way.

How do their relatives and friends view their present occupation?

Is there anything that they don't currently know how to do that they wish they could?

Are they envious of others who can do such things in a good-natured way or are they sullen and morose about it?

Are they an ex of the queer and trans poc coded and native coded Indigenous magical human, magical huma, & homo magi hybrid S rank adventurer and guild member Afro Asian native coded main character Lysander/Luciana Norwood or Kittsak/Kaeo Pramoj

Questions for native characters and characters of color of Alpha Centurion War:

Are they a superhero, antihero, or supervillain?

What is their superhero antihero or supervillain name?

What is their superhero antihero or supervillain costume?

What superpowers do they have?

How exactly did they get their powers?

Are they a metahuman or superhuman?

What is their lair? Where is their home base? Is it stationary or mobile.  

What superhero, antihero, or supervillain team are they a part of?

What is their role in these teams?

Are they part of the superhero conglomerates the Elites, the Paragons, or the Sentinels?

Are they alien hybrids?

Are they demigods? Are the the child, grandchild, or descendant of a god or goddess? If so from which pantheon? The Egyptian, Mayan, Norse, Greco-Roman, Celtic, Hindu, Japanese, Chinese, African, or Oceanic/Pasifika pantheon?

Are they cyborgs or bionics?

Are they Atlantean, Amazonian, Vanir, or Asgardian hybrids?

Are they half elves, half orcs, half trolls, half goblins, or half dwarves, etc?

Are they missing any body parts as someone disfigured? Did they have these part or parts replaced with bionic or cybernetic limbs.

Do they have cybernetic implants or bionic enhancements?

Are they an BIPOC ex of the queer and trans Asian Pasifika and Latine Native superhero/superheroine main character Kana’i Makoa Latu/Ataahua Kamalani Latu?

[amritahospitalforlaparoscopy]

Most Common Conditions Treated at the Best Laparoscopy Hospital in Shahdol

Laparoscopy is one of the most indispensable diagnostic and surgical tools for modern medicine to offer patients minimally invasive procedures said to confer greater benefits as compared to open surgery in the form of reduced recovery time, less pain, and relatively fewer complications. For residents in Shahdol and its surroundings, Amrita Hospital stands out as the best hospital for laparoscopy in Shahdol, coming close to providing renowned care from highly qualified and experienced specialists. This article explains the five common conditions treated at the best hospital in Shahdol for laparoscopy and how these treatments result in the improvement of outcomes of the patient.

Gallstones (Cholelithiasis) The gallbladder has an important role in the storage of bile, which will help in the digestion and absorption of fats from foods into the small intestines. At this point, though, the presence of gallstones may result in extreme pain and even death in other severe complications if not treated in good time. Gallstones are usually the hard particles that arise as a result of the concentration of cholesterol and bilirubin in the bile.

Symptoms of Gallstones

Severe pain on the upper abdomen after eating Vomiting or nausea Yellow discoloration of the skin and eyes due to Jaundice Whenever stones in the gallbladder start causing complications, the standard treatment provided is a surgical procedure called laparoscopic cholecystectomy, which involves the surgical removal of the gallbladder. It's a less invasive procedure, meaning that it only involves small incisions and faster recovery time and postoperative pain as compared to an open surgery. State-of-the-art laparoscopic techniques and efficient surgeons ensure the best possible outcomes for all patients who receive treatment at Amrita Hospital, the best hospital for laparoscopy in Shahdol.

Appendicitis Appendicitis is the inflammation of the appendix, which is that tiny, tube-like organ connected to the wall of the large intestine. If an inflamed appendix is not taken seriously and treated in time, it may rupture and cause severe infections. At times, an inflamed appendix is fatal. Appendicitis attacks anyone irrespective of age, but the condition mostly affects young persons.

Appendicitis Symptoms

Severe pain around the navel or lower right part of the abdomen with no apparent cause; nausea or vomiting; loss of appetite; fever The most noted and preferred treatment for appendicitis is the laparoscopic appendectomy, or rather the surgical removal of the appendix by way of small incisions in the abdomen. This method is favored due to the minimally invasive approach, which allows faster healing and quicker return to daily activities. Among all the other hospitals, Amrita Hospital has seen some of the best doctors for laparoscopy in Shahdol, hence guarantees top-tier care with little chance of complications and easy recovery.

Hernia A hernia is a form of disorder whereby an organ or component of the tissue protrudes through a weak point in the muscle or connective tissue. Some of the most common forms of hernias are inguinal hernia (at the groin), umbilical hernia (above the belly button), and hiatal hernia (on the diaphragm). A hernia can lead to pain, as well as discomfort, and in some cases, even the strangulation of organs, where blood can be cut off, hence making it a full medical emergency.

Hernia Symptoms

Visible bulge in the affected area Pain or discomfort, mainly when lifting, coughing, or bending Abdominal weakness or pressure Hernias generally require surgical treatment, and laparoscopy is more minimally invasive than traditional open surgery. Laparoscopic hernia repair: Small incisions are done, and a camera is introduced by which the surgeon guides in placing the displaced tissue back and re-strengthening the weak area with a mesh. At Amrita Hospital, it has been considered as the best hospital for laparoscopy in Shahdol, wherein the surgeons carry out this procedure very effectively, allowing patients to recover faster without complications post-surgery.

Endometriosis Basically, endometriosis is an inflammatory disease of chronic nature. It is caused by the presence of ectopic endometrial tissue that grows, otherwise within the uterus. This abnormally growing tissue causes inflammation and cyst formation accompanied by adhesions. It often causes severe pains in the lower abdomen area and heavy menstruation that could often hinder fertility.

Symptoms of Endometriosis

Heavy bleeding during menses Pain during intercourse Infertility Severe menstrual cramping Laparoscopy is a diagnostic and therapeutic procedure that could be applied in the management of endometriosis. In the laparoscopic surgery for endometriosis, the surgeon uses a camera in the location of abnormal growths of tissues that will be removed in order to reduce pain and enhance outcomes of fertility. The best doctor at Amrita Hospital for laparoscopy in Shahdol utilizes high-tech approaches, leading to very sensitive diagnoses and effective treatment options for endometriosis, and thus patients can respond to symptoms and eventually live pain-free lives.

Ovarian Cysts Ovarian cysts are fluid-filled sacs that may appear either on or within the ovary. Most ovarian cysts are benign and go away by themselves, but others may be severe, especially those that rupture or cause the twisting of the ovary-a condition referred to as ovarian torsion.

Common Symptoms of Ovarian Cysts:

Pelvic pain, often sharp or sudden Abdominal bloating or swelling Inconsistent periods or abnormal vaginal bleeding Pain during sex For problematic ovarian cysts, laparoscopic ovarian cystectomy is mostly recommended. It refers to the removal of the cyst while leaving as much of the ovary as possible. In the best hospital for laparoscopy in Shahdol, these expert surgeons at Amrita Hospital use a laparoscopic approach in order to minimize the scarring and pain and reduce recovery time so that women can quickly return to their normal life by safeguarding their reproductive health.

Why Amrita Hospital is the Best Laparoscopy Hospital in Shahdol? Many factors have entitled Amrita Hospital as the best laparoscopy center in Shahdol. These reasons vary from qualified and seasoned surgeons for laparoscopic procedures to state-of-the-art medical equipment. Patients who visit Amrita Hospital will find empathetic and personalized care for such different afflictions, such as ordinary gallstones or more complicated conditions like endometriosis.

Here are some of the main reasons why the patients trust Amrita Hospital:

Experienced Surgeons: The best doctor for laparoscopy in Shahdol is leading a team of specialists who have years of practice in the art of minimally invasive surgery. Advanced Technology: The hospital is well-lit with the latest equipment used in surgery as well as imaging, thus ensuring all procedures are conducted accurately. Patient-Centric Approach: Amrita Hospital provides personalized care, so every patient will receive all the attention and treatment needed. Rapid Recovery: Laparoscopic surgery allows patients to have rapid recovery times with less pain and swift return to their daily routines. Benefits of Laparoscopic Surgery Most of the earlier cases that were a subject of open surgery are now revolutionized by laparoscopy, which avails far more benefits than the traditional open surgery. The following are some of the advantages of making a decision towards getting laparoscopic surgery at the best hospital for laparoscopy in Shahdol:

Minimally Invasive: Laparoscopic surgery is characterized by incisions that leave only small wounds; hence it minimizes trauma on the body. It therefore results in less scarring and less post-operative pain. Less risk of infection: The major risks from infections are less because of the relatively smaller incision, which is one of the common concerns in traditional open surgeries. Shorter hospital stay: Patients who undergo laparoscopic procedures can be discharged on the same day or after one or two days at the earliest, with little disruption of their daily lives. Rapid Recovery: As the procedure is less invasive, the recovery time for patients is also extremely minimal, and patients can return to their normal activities a little sooner than they would with traditional surgery. Lower complication rates: Laparoscopy has much fewer complications like bleed and adhesions that are more common with open surgery. Post Operative Care at Amrita Hospital After the laparoscopic surgery is performed in Amrita Hospital, which is the best hospital for laparoscopy in Shahdol, full care is provided to the patient in the post-operative period to help gain a smooth recovery. Dedicated healthcare professionals working as a team with the hospital provide its patients with:

Accurate recovery plans - detailed instructions on how to care for the surgical site, pain management and no strenuous activity till fully recovered. Follow-up appointments would be routine check-ups to see how the patient is progressing and whether anything needs to be brought to attention. Physical therapy might also be prescribed if the patient suffers some degree of debilitation or weakness, depending on their particular procedure. Conclusion Choosing the proper hospital for a laparoscopic procedure is quite crucial to ensure successful treatment outcomes and a smooth recovery. Thus, Amrita Hospital continues to be the best in Shahdol for exceptional treatments of conditions including gallstones, appendicitis, hernias, endometriosis, or ovarian cysts. With its highly skilled medical team and the latest technology, Amrita Hospital ensures comfort and compassionate delivery of the best care to every patient.

Whether you've developed the symptoms of gallstones or are requiring the invasion of a diagnostic laparoscopy for endometriosis, the best doctor for laparoscopy in Shahdol at Amrita Hospital stands ready to guide you down a path bettered by health.

[my3dartblog]

Details:Introducing SX Madeline for G8! Whether you need a bold main character or a reserved best friend in your scenes, enjoy this versatile young model character today. What's Included and Features SX Madeline for Genesis 8: (.DUF) SX Madeline PresetSX Madeline Full Apply/RemoveSX Madeline Head Apply/RemoveSX Madeline Body Apply/RemoveSX Madeline Navel Apply/RemoveSX Madeline Nipples Apply/RemoveMaterials Include: SX Base MaterialSX EyelashesSX Blushes05 Eye Materials07 Lip Materials01 Body/Face Tattoo02 Leg Tattoo01 Eyelash OptionsSpecial Effects Materials: Black & White Special MaterialBloody Special MaterialTextures Include: 58 Texture, Bump, Displacement, Metallic, Normal, Roughness, Specular, Sub-Surface Scattering, and Transparency maps from (1024 x1024 to 4096 x 4096).Daz Studio Iray Material Presets (.DUF) NotesThis product includes Bonuses Coming soon: https://3d-stuff.net/ #daz3d #dazstudio #3drender #3dart #daz3dstudio #irayrender #3dartwork #blender #blenderrender #blenderart #noaiart #noaiwriting #noai https://3d-stuff.net/

[thipmedia]

A Comprehensive Guide to Navel Displacement Medicine

Navel displacement, a condition where the navel or belly button shifts from its normal position, can be a source of discomfort and concern for many individuals. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the causes, symptoms, and available treatments for navel displacement. By delving into the world of navel displacement medicine, we aim to provide valuable insights and information to those seeking a deeper understanding of this condition.

What is Navel Displacement?

Navel displacement, also known as umbilical displacement or belly button displacement, occurs when the navel shifts from its central position. This displacement can be caused by a variety of factors, including pregnancy, obesity, abdominal surgery, or trauma to the abdominal area.

Symptoms and Diagnosis

Individuals experiencing navel displacement may notice symptoms such as pain, discomfort, or a visible change in the appearance of their belly button. In some cases, a protrusion or bulge may be observed. Proper diagnosis of navel displacement involves a physical examination by a healthcare professional, who may also use imaging studies such as ultrasound to assess the extent of the displacement.

Navel Displacement Medicine: Treatment Options

Non-Surgical Approaches

Lifestyle modifications: Adopting a healthy lifestyle that includes regular exercise and maintaining a healthy weight can alleviate symptoms associated with navel displacement.

Physical therapy: Targeted exercises prescribed by a healthcare professional can help strengthen the abdominal muscles and support the navel, reducing the likelihood of displacement.

Medical Interventions

Pain management: Over-the-counter pain relievers may be recommended to manage discomfort associated with navel displacement.

Supportive devices: In some cases, the use of supportive devices, such as abdominal binders, may be suggested to provide additional support to the abdominal area.

Surgical Options

Hernia repair: If navel displacement is associated with a hernia, surgical intervention may be necessary to correct the underlying issue and reposition the navel.

Laparoscopic procedures: Minimally invasive techniques may be employed to surgically address navel displacement, minimizing recovery time and scarring.

Prevention Strategies

While not all instances of navel displacement can be prevented, adopting certain measures can reduce the risk of developing this condition. These measures include maintaining a healthy weight, practicing proper lifting techniques, and addressing any underlying medical conditions that may contribute to abdominal strain.

Conclusion: In conclusion, understanding navel displacement and the role of navel displacement medicine is crucial for individuals affected by this condition. By recognizing the symptoms, exploring treatment options, and adopting preventive measures, individuals can take proactive steps towards managing and alleviating the discomfort associated with navel displacement. Remember, consulting with a healthcare professional is essential for personalized guidance and a tailored treatment plan.

[gastrosurgeons-blog]

Hernia Surgery Benefits, Risks, and What to Expect

What Is Hernia Surgery?

Hernia surgery, also known as herniorrhaphy, is a medical procedure performed to repair a hernia, a condition where an organ or fatty tissue protrudes through a weak spot in the surrounding muscle or connective tissue. Hernias can occur in various areas of the body, but they are most commonly found in the abdominal region, groin, and upper thigh. The surgery involves returning the displaced tissue to its proper position and reinforcing the weakened area with sutures or a mesh patch to prevent recurrence. There are different types of hernia surgeries, including open surgery, where an incision is made directly over the hernia, and laparoscopic surgery, which involves smaller incisions and the use of a camera and specialized instruments for repair. The choice of surgical approach depends on the type and location of the hernia, as well as the patient's overall health and surgeon's recommendation. Hernia surgery is typically safe and effective, providing relief from the discomfort and potential complications associated with untreated hernias. Patients often experience a significant improvement in their quality of life after undergoing this procedure.

Hernia Surgery Benefits and Risks

Hernia surgery, also known as herniorrhaphy or hernioplasty, offers both significant benefits and potential risks to patients. The primary advantage of undergoing hernia surgery is the resolution of the hernia itself. Hernias occur when an organ or tissue pushes through a weakened spot in the surrounding muscle or connective tissue, causing pain and discomfort. Surgery aims to repair this structural defect, relieving pain and preventing complications such as strangulation, a life-threatening condition that occurs when blood supply to the herniated organ is compromised. On the flip side, like any surgical procedure, hernia surgery is not without its risks. Common risks include infection, bleeding, and post-operative pain. It's essential for patients to consult with their healthcare providers to weigh the potential benefits against the associated risks and make an informed decision about whether hernia surgery is the right course of action for their specific case.

Conditions We Treat with Hernia Surgery

Hernia surgery is a medical procedure employed to address a variety of conditions related to hernias, which occur when an organ or fatty tissue protrudes through a weak spot or tear in the surrounding muscle or connective tissue. This surgical intervention is primarily used to treat inguinal hernias, which are the most common type, affecting the groin area. Inguinal hernias often require surgical repair to alleviate pain and discomfort. Additionally, umbilical hernias, which occur around the navel, and incisional hernias, arising from a prior surgical incision, are also treated with hernia surgery. Ventral hernias, located in the abdominal wall, and femoral hernias, typically occurring lower down in the groin region, can also be addressed through this procedure. The aim of hernia surgery is to reinforce the weakened area and reduce the risk of hernia recurrence, ultimately improving the patient's quality of life and alleviating associated symptoms.

During hernia surgery

To start the surgery, you'll receive some form of sedation, so you don't feel any pain during your hernia surgery.

To repair your hernia, your surgeon will:

Push the bulging tissue or organ back where it belongs.

Repair the weak spot or opening in your muscle.

Use surgical mesh to strengthen and cover the hernia defect in some cases.

There are two methods for hernia repair: open and minimally invasive (laparoscopic or robotic) hernia surgery.

Which one is best for you will depend on your hernia's type and size and risk factors from other health issues.

With both options, there's a chance the hernia can come back.

Open hernia surgery

Larger hernias often require open surgery.

Your surgeon makes one long cut in your groin or abdomen to see and repair your hernia.

You'll know ahead of time if a surgical mesh is needed. The mesh keeps a hernia from forming again in the same spot.

Minimally invasive hernia surgery

Your surgeon will make several small cuts in your abdomen and insert:

A tiny camera inside a hollow tube through one cut to see your hernia.

Special tools through other tubes and cuts to repair your hernia.

Hernia surgery recovery

Each person is unique.

How long it takes you to recover after hernia surgery will vary based on factors such as:

The size of your hernia.

The type of hernia surgery you had. Most people recover faster after minimally invasive surgery than they do after open hernia surgery.

Your age and overall health.

Your surgeon will give you specific post-op instructions and advise you when you can resume strenuous exercise or activity.

You will likely be able to resume light activity in the days after the operation.

Your surgeon will also tell you when they want to see you again to make sure you're healing properly. Be sure to make a follow-up appointment within that time frame.

Meet Dr. Kapileshwer Vijay For Hernia Surgery in Jaipur

If you're in need of expert hernia surgery in Jaipur, look no further than Dr. Kapileshwer Vijay. With a wealth of experience and a reputation for excellence in the field of hernia treatment, Dr. Kapileshwer Vijay is the dedicated and skilled gastro surgeon in jaipur you can trust. His commitment to providing top-notch medical care, along with his compassionate approach to patient care, sets him apart as a leading specialist in the region. Whether you're seeking treatment for inguinal, umbilical, or any other type of hernia, Dr. Kapileshwer Vijay is here to provide you with the highest standard of care, ensuring your comfort and a swift road to recovery. Don't compromise on your health; choose the expertise of Dr. Kapileshwer Vijay for your hernia surgery needs in Jaipur.

[allureesthetic]

Mastering the Art of Breast Augmentation: A Guide to Choosing Shape, Size, Texturing, Incision, and Placement

The decision to undergo breast augmentation is a personal and transformative one, and choosing the right options for your procedure can significantly impact the outcome. From shape and size to surface texturing, incision site, and placement, there are several factors to consider when planning your breast augmentation journey. In this comprehensive guide for breast augmentation, we delve into the recommendations for each aspect, ensuring that you're well-informed and empowered to make the best choices for achieving your desired results.

Choosing the Right Breast Implant Shape and Size:

Breast implant shapes primarily include round and teardrop (anatomical) profiles. Round implants offer uniform fullness, enhancing cleavage and overall volume. Teardrop implants mimic the natural slope of the breast, creating a more subtle appearance. Size, on the other hand, depends on your body frame, existing breast tissue, and desired outcome. During consultations, plastic surgeons often use visual aids, sizers, and 3D simulations to help you visualize how different sizes will look on your body.

Considering Surface Texturing for Implants:

Breast implant shells can have smooth or textured surfaces. Smooth implants move more freely within the pocket and have a softer feel, while textured implants adhere to surrounding tissues, reducing the risk of displacement. The choice depends on your surgeon's recommendation, as well as your preference and the type of implant being used.

Exploring Incision Sites:

There are several incision options for breast augmentation: inframammary (under the breast crease), periareolar (around the nipple), transaxillary (through the armpit), and transumbilical (through the navel). The choice of incision depends on factors like scarring concerns, implant type, and surgeon's expertise. Each option offers its own set of benefits, and your surgeon will help you decide the best approach based on your individual needs.

Deciding on Implant Placement:

Breast implants can be placed either above or below the pectoral muscle. Submuscular placement (under the muscle) provides more coverage over the implant and can be advantageous for women with thin breast tissue. Subglandular placement (above the muscle) may result in a slightly shorter recovery period. Your surgeon will consider your anatomy, lifestyle, and desired outcome to recommend the most suitable placement.

Conclusion:

The journey towards breast augmentation is a unique and personalized experience. By carefully considering factors such as implant shape, size, surface texturing, incision site, and placement, you can tailor your procedure to align with your aesthetic goals and expectations. Consultation with a board-certified plastic surgeon is pivotal to making well-informed decisions that will ultimately contribute to achieving the desired results. Remember, every detail matters, and your surgeon's expertise will guide you towards a successful and transformative breast augmentation experience.

In your pursuit of breast augmentation, ensure that you thoroughly discuss your preferences and concerns with your plastic surgeon. This journey is an investment in your self-confidence and well-being, and making the right choices will empower you to embrace your enhanced beauty with pride.

[teclo-communications]

Tummy Tuck Surgery or Abdominoplasty: Benefits, Risks, Complications and more

A tummy tuck, commonly known as an abdominoplasty, is a cosmetic surgical operation that entails shrinking and firming the abdomen. It focuses on removing excess fat and skin from the area around the lower abdomen. In most cases, it can also widened central muscle of the abdomen known as rectus, giving men and women the abdominal profile, they desire.

Regrettably, sometimes correct diets and exercise are insufficient to obtain the desired abdominal contour. A tummy tuck can help persons drooping or loose skin around their abdomen.

Types of abdominoplasty

Complete abdominoplasty

This procedure is for patients that need the most correction. The incision is made at the level of your pubic hair, at the bikini line and the length of the scar depends on the amount of extra skin. Your surgeon then manipulates and shapes the anterior abdominal wall. It is necessary to have your navel separated from the surrounding tissue, hence there will also be an incision on your belly button. Draining tubes can be used during the procedure and will be removed as and when the surgeon sees fit.

Mini-abdominoplasty

Mini-abdominoplasty is a type of abdominoplasty that uses shorter incisions and is commonly used on those who have less extra skin. Between the incision line and your belly button, your skin will be split, and the latter is less likely to be displaced. It takes approximately one to two hours to complete this surgery. There are chances of having drainage tubes following the surgery just as there are chances of having the same after full abdominoplasty.

Circumferential abdominoplasty

Circumferential abdominoplasty is a type of abdominoplasty that encompasses the back. You might get back liposuction or circumferential abdominoplasty if you have a lot of excess fat in your back as well as your abdomen. The latter surgery removes both skin and fat from the hip and back areas, resulting in a more youthful appearance.

Benefits of an abdominoplasty or tummy tuck surgery

Both men and women who are in good general health and have a stable weight can undergo an abdominoplasty. An abdominoplasty is not the same as liposuction which is a cosmetic surgery that removes fat deposits; however, your surgeon may choose to include liposuction as part of the abdominoplasty surgery.

Women with strained muscles and skin after several pregnancies may benefit from the surgery to tighten their muscles and remove redundant skin. A tummy tuck is also an option for men and women who were obese at one time in their lives and have lost a large amount of weight but still have excess fat or loose skin near the stomach or waist.

Because of the health and cosmetic benefits of a tummy tuck, many people are pleased with the end result. A tummy tuck offers a number of benefits to the right patient, including:

Getting close to their pre-pregnancy abdomen

Get a flatter, firmer stomach and a more sculpted midsection.

Risk factors and complications of undergoing abdominoplasty

After surgery, you should expect pain and swelling. As needed, your doctor will prescribe pain medication. It's possible that the pain will linger for several weeks. You may experience numbness, bruising, and general exhaustion.

There are dangers associated with any procedure. In case you have poor circulation, diabetes, heart, lung, or liver illness, or if you are a smoker, you may be at a higher risk of these issues.

 Complications can include the following:

Scarring

Hematoma

Infection

Seroma

Wound healing is poor

Clots in the blood

Numbness or other sensational changes

Necrosis of the fat (death of fatty tissue located deep in the skin).

Separation of wounds

Asymmetry (unevenness or lopsidedness).

While most people are pleased with the outcome of the surgery, it is an emotional, physical and financial commitment to undergo the procedure. Consult with experts and your doctor before you choose to undergo the surgery for a smoother and more informed process.

Recovery Post-Surgery

It’s important to remember to give your body time to heal. There might be swelling, pain, scarring and discomfort. This is normal and will get better. Your recuperation will depend on several factors, including your age, health, and body weight. It will also depend on the type of tummy tuck you have.

You may need to take a few medications and have the draining tube for a few weeks. The doctor will walk you through the do’s and don’ts along with home care. Rest in the first few days is very important after which you must include slow movements, like walking in your daily activities. Do not push yourself to do any activity before your body is ready for it.

If there are any signs of concern or infection, please get in touch with your doctor at the earliest.

For More Information Visit: https://aestheticaveda.com/

[lysainscale]

🔮 - 'Good,' Jesopp thought to himself as the foreign prince breached the surface. His hand dipped into the water. If Solomon denied all other distractions, he could feel the light vibrations that trembled through the water. If he were standing, he'd feel a greater presence reverberating through the ground. His hand finds a space beneath his head as water acted as a conduit between contact. His middle finger aligned perfectly with the start of his spine. The markings along his body began to illuminate as the incoherent chants that were being whispered alternates in volume. He flexed at the wrist. The upward tilt caused Solomon's head to rock back just slightly to allow the coming pour of water to roll away from his mouth and nose. What flowed from his palm was much warmer than the water to which they displaced.

Jesopp finds reassurance in the young man's silence. It dispels his current concern or worry.

"It begins once you step out of this pool." Jesopp's tone was more purposeful to bring Solomon's awareness back to him. "You will be observed. Consider every action made. Every choice pondered. I can not advise you on what to take. Consider the balance in all things." His hand returned for a second dip into the water. He clenched his fist tight as he follows the midline - from chin to navel. Droplets fall upon him. The final motion was a barrage of drops in the shape of a circle around his chest. He retracts his hands from Solomon's person, and he took a step back, waiting for him to stand whenever he chose. He did not judge him for his choice of action. The natural instinct that came once someone stepped into the water was always welcomed. "Consider an old man quite nosy." After gesturing a tap to his nose, both arms met behind his back as his stance grew very statuesque. "What brings you to our lovely paradise?"

　　jesopp spoke, and solomon listened. all malicious voices drowned by the echo of the priest. a voice so mesmerising, it had the young human in a trance. in a humbled position which not many got to see. for the prince could be arrogant, but never disrespectful, especially with forces which he did not fully understand. he could bite back against a king but not against a god. even if he dared to, there seemed to be no need for it. unlike the ever-present breaking waves of the sea, the aquifer remained perfectly still. a pitch black looking glass, only disrupted by the movements of those sinking into its waters. it invited him in, and solomon would bring no harm against his host.

　　peace, as the high priest proclaimed. peace of mind, something the redhead was rarely allowed - albeit by his own doing, more often than not. his own insecurities and resentments ever present in his life. i twas difficult to drop the baggage of a lifetime spent under the shadows of everyone that surrounded him, and yet each step into the water made it easier. soon his feet leaving the smooth surface behind, and allowing the prince to instead float on his own. it was cold, but not painful. it was easy to get used to, eyes closed as he let his whole being drown for a moment. ginger locks dancing in the water as the flame of the torch did outside.

　　calm, quiet, solomon resurfaced. droplets running across the sun-kissed skin, once well-groomed hair now unruly, falling down his forehead. green eyes making out the silhouette of jesopp in the shadows, and his body floating towards him as his honey-sweet voice called him to. he put himself in the hands of the gods, be it a serpent or a hydra, all or none. he inched closer and closer to the priest, no words spoken, but only his silent breaths. inhale, exhale.

[thedailyscribbler]

What is Navel Displacement : Symptoms & Treatment in Ayurveda

Navel displacement, also known as Nabhi Chakra Veda or Nabhi Displacement, is a condition where the navel or umbilicus moves from its normal position. In Ayurveda, it is believed that the displacement of the navel can cause an imbalance in the body's energy, leading to various health problems.

Symptoms of navel displacement may include pain or discomfort in the abdomen, indigestion, constipation, bloating, nausea, vomiting, back pain, fatigue, and menstrual problems in women.

According to Ayurveda, the treatment for navel displacement involves restoring the balance of energy in the body through various techniques. One of the primary techniques is Navel Displacement Correction Therapy or Nabhi Chikitsa. This therapy involves massaging the area around the navel with warm oil and then applying a small amount of pressure to the navel. The therapist may also use specific Ayurvedic herbs and oils to help restore the balance of energy in the body.

Other Ayurvedic treatments for navel displacement may include yoga, meditation, dietary changes, and the use of Ayurvedic medicines. It is also essential to maintain good posture and avoid heavy lifting or strenuous activities that may worsen the condition.

In Ayurveda, it is believed that maintaining a healthy balance of energy in the body is crucial for overall well-being. Therefore, it is important to seek treatment for navel displacement if you are experiencing symptoms, to help restore balance and promote optimal health.

image source https://ayurhealthcare.com.au/wp-content/uploads/2021/11/Navel-Displacement.jpg

How do you know if your navel is displaced?

Navel displacement, also known as Nabhi Chakra Veda, can be diagnosed through a physical examination by a healthcare provider or an Ayurvedic practitioner. The practitioner will check the position of the navel and observe any signs of swelling or discomfort in the surrounding area.

However, there are some signs and symptoms that may indicate navel displacement. These include:

Pain or discomfort in the abdomen, especially around the navel area.

Digestive problems such as bloating, constipation, or gas.

Back pain or discomfort.

Menstrual problems in women, such as irregular periods or painful periods.

Fatigue or weakness.

Nausea or vomiting.

A visible shift or bulge in the navel area.

If you are experiencing any of these symptoms, it is essential to seek medical attention to determine the underlying cause and receive appropriate treatment. An Ayurvedic practitioner can also help you restore balance to the body's energy and promote overall well-being.

What are the Causes Of Navel Displacement

In Ayurveda, navel displacement is believed to be caused by an imbalance in the body's energy, or doshas, which can be triggered by various factors. Some of the common causes of navel displacement are:

Poor Posture: Poor posture can cause undue pressure on the abdomen and lead to navel displacement.

Injury: Injury to the abdomen or navel area can cause the navel to move from its normal position.

Heavy Lifting: Lifting heavy objects can also lead to navel displacement due to the pressure it puts on the abdomen.

Digestive Problems: Digestive problems such as constipation, bloating, or gas can cause the navel to shift from its normal position.

Menstrual Problems: In women, menstrual problems such as irregular periods or painful periods can lead to navel displacement.

Emotional Stress: Emotional stress or anxiety can also affect the body's energy and lead to navel displacement.

Obesity: Obesity can put pressure on the abdomen and lead to navel displacement.

It is essential to address the underlying cause of navel displacement to prevent it from occurring or recurring. Ayurvedic treatments aim to restore balance to the body's energy and promote overall health and well-being.

[cobra-creampuff]

anyways. i think blackbeard has a dick piercing and he made izzy do it for him.

BESTIE!!! YOU ARE SO RIGHT.

[tw: anti-sw language, unsafe needle practices, argument could be made for internalized homophobia]

"Do a- Do, like, count of three." Izzy grimaces, trying to avoid the sight of the thick needle, still floating in the highest proof they have on board currently. Edward decided he wanted this well after dark and well before dawn with no port in sight, because that's just who he is as a person.

Izzy kneels down between his Captain's spread knees. His heart races painfully, but he breathes deep and slow through his nose. Can't have his hands shake now of all times.

"Dare I ask why," he murmurs. His voice has gone shy, hiding in the back of his throat when he tries to get it to speak out for him. Blackbeard's bare cock is right in front of his face, dusky and soft and nestled in coarse black curls. It sways, slightly, when Edward shrugs.

"Dunno, just think it'd be funny," he mumbles, nearly slurred. Of course Izzy had already checked, in the wordless ways he could, that Blackbeard wasn't drunk or high or otherwise altered when making his request - not that Izzy would have any place, necessarily, to refuse him even if he was, but at least then he'd have some point of contention to float across Edward's ever shifting tide of moods.

"Funny?" he splutters now, looking up from Blackbeard's cock to peer up - up, up, up - at his Captain's esoteric bearded face. "Wh- to who?"

Izzy's gaze catches (like hands would) on the textures between here and there: the dip of Edward's navel, the frayed hem of his shirt, the metal teeth of the zipper and the buttery leather of his jacket, the soft-looking - surely deceptive in appearance - curls of his beard just starting to grey strand by strand.

"Dunno," Blackbeard says again, shrugging again, displacing some of his long hair over his shoulders - broad even slouched like this. "Jack? He'll be around again at some point. And Anne-Marie. She's got one too, we'll match."

"Who?" Izzy mutters. There's a sour taste in his mouth that he can't place, but he chalks it up to nerves. He's about to cause Blackbeard significant pain, and at request or not that generally merits harsh consequence. He occupies himself with fishing the needle out of the alcohol.

"Anne-Marie," repeats Edward easily. "From Tortuga?" The needle is shining, dripping, ominously in the lantern light of the Captain's quarters. It takes Izzy a moment to locate anyone in his memory to match the description, given that there really isn't one.

"The whore?" he finally figures, distastefully. Far be it from him to judge a sailor for taking easy assured pleasure in the brief time they make land (and far be it from him to judge Blackbeard for anything), but Izzy himself has never found the appeal of the many and storied brothels always available at port.

"She's a nice lady," Edward chastises mildly, an idle warning that sends a shiver of fear and admiration down Izzy's spine (that would make his knees shake, just a little, if he wasn't on them). "She pretended to be a mermaid for me once."

"She's a-" Izzy cuts himself off, clicks his teeth together before he can get himself in (more) trouble. "That's her job."

"Just do it already, mate, 'fore I lose my fuckin' patience with you and get someone else," Blackbeard snaps. Izzy's stomach plummets at the words. He just doesn't like needles, is all. But anyone else would cock it up - no pun intended - and of all the possible ways for the legendary Blackbeard to die, Izzy can't let it be by an infection of the dick.

His hand does shake, despite Izzy's best efforts, as he reaches out for Edward's cock. The skin is soft and warm under his fingertips, in his palm. He swallows hard and brings the needle forward.

"Are you-?" he starts, unsure himself.

"Three," says Blackbeard, an order like any other Izzy has received and obeyed from him. On habit rigorously honed into instinct, Izzy punches the needle through.

Edward yelps, first, one knee shooting up defensively until Izzy manages to get an elbow on top of it and push it back down. Then he makes a much smaller wounded sound, a breathy little thing in the back of his throat, mangled and muffled by the way his head has fallen backwards. Were Izzy less of a realist, he could swear he could see that little noise move under the thin skin between Edward's collarbones.

In Izzy's hand, still run through with the needle, Blackbeard's cock begins to harden. Izzy stares at it, unable to fully comprehend what's happening. The only thing his brain can parse is the sensation of Edward's cock slowly filling up his palm, the steadily increasing warmth of it, the redness around the puncture, the prickly brush of Edward's thigh hair against the back of Izzy's hand as he restlessly shifts his leg again. Blackbeard groans, and the sound reverberates all through his strong fearsome body and into Izzy's.

"Iz," he says on the tail of it, in a tone Izzy can no more understand than any other aspect of this interaction. He fumbles desperately for the waiting barbell rather than try.

Edward makes the same strange, small noise again when Izzy carefully pulls the needle out. His cock gets harder, making blood well probably too-quickly from the puncture wound. Izzy pours some of the booze he'd used to sterilize the needle over Blackbeard's bleeding, twitching cock, shaking enough now that he spills it all over Blackbeard's lap and makes mess of it over the chair and the floor. And then it's the same noise again, paired with the creak of Edward's jacket as he clenches his fists in it, when Izzy threads the barbell through.

Izzy is on his feet as soon as the bar is capped and secure.

"There, now you match your whore," he congratulates bitterly. He's unreasonably humiliated, considering it's Blackbeard and not him who just let - nay, demanded another man put a needle through his fucking dick and got hard about it. There's a long pause in which Blackbeard breathes, and the air in the cabin seems to get colder with his every exhale.

"Thanks," he says finally. "Now fuck off."

With enough bile in the back of his throat that it's somehow started to burn behind his eyes too, Izzy heeds his dismissal.

I was picturing a dorsal frenum (horizontal through the top of the shaft), for The People's Reference. Don't text me about zippers not being invented yet; I already know, I don't care.