#artificial disc

[whatudottu]

Absolute theory/headcanon/analysis/general idea legend whatudottu character arc of slowly becoming one of the four (4) Cerebrocrustacean fans in the entire fandom (even if Petrosapiens will always be #1 in its heart, which, you know, completely understandable NGL) let’s gooooo!

Also I can’t believe I haven’t made this connection until now but:

Cerebrocrustacean: “My people have a rich and complex history and culture, but most of the galactic audience boils us down to being nothing but ‘the violently bigoted xenophobes who keep destroying their own planet’ and it frustrates me to no end.”

Gourmand who’s been forced to hear the same “I can excuse cannibalism but I draw the line at marrying outside of your own race” joke over and over again: “Yeah, welcome to the club, pal.”

Me and my homies (4) being cerebrocrustacean fans: If cerebrocrustaceans have 0 fans we are dead, haha- Would buy merchandise to convince CN that Brainstorm is a cool transformation *looks over my shoulder to see the playdough brainstorm with removable brain toy that either I or my sibling got millions of years ago*

ANYWAY!

It's very evident when I don't think about a particular species when I have to look something up like the gourmand cannibalism, but seeing as though they have a collective pocket dimension where their stomach goes (at least that's where the logic got them in the show instead of being consumed food expelled in energy reflux), if cannibalism didn't implode the two gourmands like how bag of holding inception works then I suppose it's far better than *shudders* perk murk relationships. Got a whole 'house divided' 'alike in dignity' situation over here, Perkulet and Murktague having asses-

...You know what if I get a chance to think about gourmands in more detail I might turn that pocket dimension into a magic thing instead of a xenobiology thing that's just overall bullshit- comes free with potentially real cannibalism but like they've eaten 11 planets I think cannibalism just in general pales in comparison to what they could do-

Well, whatever cannibalism gourmands excuse and all the jokes they have to deal with about perk murk relationships being somehow much much worse, at least they don't get shoveled with 'violent bigots' that 'aren't smart enough to support their lifestyle without destroying their own planet' which well- I don't have any present headcanons as to why Encephalonus is on it's 4th edition yet but let me tell you, when cerebrocrutaceans found out the galvans lost their planet (admittedly to the Highbreed Invasion) and then galvans WEREN'T immediately assumed to have fucked up somewhere, you can bet that Dr Psychobos was one in the crowd that went absolutely livid.

[a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats]

for those not tuned into that; paper mario ttyd is one of the rarer gamecube games and also coincidentally one of the best

[generalanchorcat]

[dheerajbojwaniconsultant]

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[synapsespine]

Top Radiculopathy Treatment in Mumbai: Synapse Spine

Radiculopathy is a condition affecting the spinal nerve roots, causing pain, weakness, and numbness in various body parts. If you're experiencing radiculopathy symptoms and seeking the Top Radiculopathy Treatment in Mumbai, it's crucial to consult a specialist for personalized treatment. At Synapse Spine, we are committed to providing comprehensive care for radiculopathy patients, ensuring they receive top-notch treatment and support.

Types of Radiculopathy

Radiculopathy can occur in different spine regions, each with unique symptoms:

Cervical Radiculopathy: Affects the neck, causing pain, weakness, and numbness in the shoulders, arms, and hands.

Lumbar Radiculopathy: Impacts nerves in the lower back, leading to pain, weakness, and numbness in the legs and feet.

Thoracic Radiculopathy: Targets nerves in the middle back, resulting in pain, weakness, and numbness in the chest and abdominal area.

Causes and Symptoms of Radiculopathy

Causes:

Disc herniation

Spinal stenosis

Degenerative disc disease

Bone spurs

Inflammation

Symptoms:

Radiating Pain: Sharp or shooting pain along the affected nerve path.

Weakness: Reduced muscle strength connected to the affected nerve.

Numbness: Loss of sensation or tingling in the affected areas.

Tingling: Sensations of prickling or "pins and needles" in the extremities.

Muscle Atrophy: Gradual weakening or wasting of muscles due to nerve dysfunction.

Diagnosing Radiculopathy

At Synapse Spine, our experts use a comprehensive approach to diagnose radiculopathy, including:

Clinical Assessment: Detailed evaluation of symptom nature and progression.

Neurological Examination: Assessment of nerve function, reflexes, and sensory responses.

Imaging Studies: X-rays and other imaging techniques.

Electrodiagnostic Tests: Electromyography (EMG) and myelogram.

Blood Tests: To rule out other conditions.

Treatment for Radiculopathy

At Synapse Spine, we adopt a multidisciplinary approach, tailoring treatment plans to each patient's unique needs. Our options include:

Medication/Ice/Heat: Prescription anti-inflammatory drugs or muscle relaxants and the application of ice or heat.

Physical Therapy/Specific Exercises: Exercises to improve range of motion and strengthen muscles around the affected nerve.

Epidural Steroid Injection: To alleviate nerve pain in the back or leg.

Spinal Cord Stimulation (SCS): Remote-operated implants for severe, unresponsive pain.

Surgical Treatments for Radiculopathy

In some cases, surgery may be necessary. Our experienced surgeons offer various surgical treatments, including:

Microdiscectomy

Laminectomy

Foraminotomy

Discectomy

Spinal Fusion

Artificial Disc Replacement

Endoscopic Surgery

Nucleoplasty

Intradiscal Electrothermal Therapy (IDET)

Peripheral Nerve Surgery

If you are experiencing radiculopathy symptoms in Mumbai, consult a specialized doctor for personalized treatment and optimal spinal health. At Synapse Spine, Top Radiculopathy Treatment in Mumbai offers comprehensive care, ensuring the best possible treatment and support. Take the first step towards a pain-free life by booking your appointment today. Call us at 93726 71858 | 93211 24611 or click here.

[marlinmedicall]

Artificial Disc Replacement vs. Spinal Fusion: Which Is Right for You?

Facing chronic back pain and considering your surgical options? Learn the key differences between artificial disc replacement and spinal fusion.

Artificial disc replacement involves implanting a synthetic disc to preserve natural movement, offering quicker recovery and reduced risk of adjacent segment degeneration.

Spinal fusion, on the other hand, permanently joins two or more vertebrae, providing stability but limiting flexibility. Each procedure has its unique benefits and considerations, and the right choice depends on your specific condition and lifestyle.

[sweettu1ips]

PAIGE BUECKERS x FEM!READER

REQUEST: Can you do one where Paige and get gf get caught making out (or full on doing it) in one of the team facilities and they get bullied (in all good faith) for the entire day but the next day they show up with hickeys on their necks and the whole team including coaches see and teammates make fun of them. Later in the day they see hickeys on their thighs and asked crazy questions again and do not let it go | request here

WARNING(S): (18+) slight smut ⋮ oral (r!receiving) ⋮ hickeys on neck + thighs ⋮ making out ⋮ getting caught ⋮ teasing ⋮ established relationship ⋮ think that's all ..

WORD COUNT: 4.9K

| MAIN MASTER LIST |

THE GYM STILL PULSED with the ghost of motion, the energy of the game clinging to the air like an echo that refused to fade.

The sharp squeak of sneakers on polished hardwood still lingered in my ears, phantom footsteps chasing each other across the court.

The overhead lights buzzed faintly, casting long shadows that stretched and swayed as if they, too, were reluctant to let the night end.

The air was thick—humid with the weight of bodies in motion, steeped in the sharp, briny scent of sweat and adrenaline.

It wrapped around us, a heady mixture of exertion and something else, something less tangible but more intoxicating. Something unspoken yet undeniable.

Laughter and chatter rippled through the gym as teammates gathered their things, shoving each other playfully, shoulders bumping, voices overlapping.

The scent of worn leather and cooling skin mixed with the artificial sweetness of sports drinks, the occasional pop of a water bottle cap punctuating the noise. One by one, they trickled out, disappearing into the night, the open world waiting to swallow them whole.

But not us.

Paige and I lingered, the pretense of duty draped loosely over us like a threadbare excuse. Gathering stray basketballs, stacking neon cones, looping resistance bands over our arms—movements automatic, practiced, but our minds were elsewhere.

The silence between us wasn’t empty; it was charged, humming with the friction of something unspoken but growing louder with every second.

It had started during practice, or maybe even before that. The slow, burning awareness of each other, the weight of her gaze when she thought I wasn’t looking. The brush of her fingers against my back, my waist, my hip—each touch fleeting but deliberate, setting my skin ablaze in ways a full game never could.

This wasn’t just cleanup.

This was stalling.

Dragging out these last few moments before the inevitable pull became impossible to resist.

Every stolen glance, every fleeting brush of her fingertips had been kindling to a fire that had long since ignited—its embers buried beneath my skin, glowing, crackling, spreading like molten honey through my veins.

Heat curled in the pit of my stomach, thick and insistent, twisting like smoke from a slow-burning wick, waiting for the moment it would finally catch, finally consume.

Even now, as I stood gripping a stack of disc cones, I could feel the weight of her gaze—heavy, dragging over me like a painter’s brush, tracing every line, every curve with a deliberate slowness.

Mapping the length of my legs, the dip of my waist, the way my sweat-slicked shorts clung to me like a second skin.

Paige wasn’t just looking. She was studying. Committing me to memory in a way that sent a sharp, thrilling ache curling between my ribs.

"Are you even listening?" I narrowed my eyes, placing the cones inside the storage room, my voice sharper than I intended, though it did nothing to break her focus.

Paige didn’t answer.

Instead, she moved—fluid, intentional, her every step humming with a quiet sort of control that made my breath catch. Her hands, warm and unyielding, found my wrist, her grip sending a jolt of anticipation up my arm, down my spine. She tugged me into the narrow hall, the space suddenly feeling too small, too charged, her body a live wire against mine.

Her eyes flickered around, scanning for stragglers, but the way her fingers tightened just slightly around my wrist told me everything.

I knew that look.

And I knew exactly where this was going.

And then, before I could even shape her name into something solid, before the thought of resistance could form, she was moving—swift and sure, pushing open the locker room door, guiding me inside with a silent kind of urgency that sent a sharp thrill down my spine.

The heavy door swung shut behind us, the world outside fading into nothing but muffled echoes, leaving only the pulse of her presence, the charged air stretching taut between us.

“Paige—”

I barely breathed it, barely formed the syllables before my back met cold wood, the shock of it biting through the heat coiling in my veins.

The wooden locker bench rattled behind me, a hollow clang swallowed by the hush of the room, by the press of her body against mine—so warm, so solid, so devastatingly close.

The air crackled between us, thick with something unspoken, something waiting to snap. My skin burned, every nerve alive with the anticipation of her touch, every cell in my body tuned to her. And then—

Then, she kissed me.

It was reckless, molten, a kiss that stole the breath from my lungs and replaced it with fire. Her lips crashed into mine, not tentative, not teasing, but claiming. A collision of want and heat, of something that had been simmering too long, finally spilling over.

The weight of her against me, the way her hands grasped at my hips like she couldn’t stand the distance—God, it was intoxicating.

I gasped into her mouth, fingers clutching at the fabric of her jersey, dragging her closer, needing more, needing her in a way that felt primal. But it still wasn’t enough.

I needed her like a body needs air. Like fire needs oxygen to burn.

I let my hands slip beneath the edge of her jersey, fingertips grazing the soft warmth of her skin, pulling it up slowly as if I could feel every inch of her body alive beneath my touch.

The smooth curve of her waist, the hard lines of muscle beneath, each shift of her body beneath my hands made me ache with a need that settled low in my belly. Every ridge, every dip of her form seemed to hum against my skin.

A shiver ran through Paige, sharp and electric, as my fingers traced the contours of her body.

The quiet groan that rose from her chest vibrated through me like a low hum, something primal, something desperate, and it cut through the haze of wanting, striking me like a blade to the heart.

My own pulse quickened, blood rushing to my ears, the ache inside me sharp and deep.

And then—without warning—I was lifted.

Paige’s hands slid beneath my thighs, strong and steady, lifting me effortlessly as though I weighed nothing at all. My back left the cool, hard wood of the lockers, and I was weightless for a moment—caught in the air, held in her arms.

Her strength was a kind of magic, and when she set me down on the couch, I could feel the weight of her presence settling between my legs. Her body pressed into mine, full of warmth and heat, every inch of her against me—so close that my head spun, my breath shallow and ragged.

The pressure of her, the force of her body moving against mine, made my chest tighten with a craving so raw it nearly stole the air from my lungs.

Her lips left mine, trailing a path of fire down my jaw, each kiss a whispered promise, each breath a silent plea. Her mouth found the curve of my neck, her breath warm and soft, sending shivers skittering across my skin.

She paused at my pulse, lips brushing, then pressing firmly as she sucked—tender, then teasing, then possessive in a way that made my body arch instinctively towards her.

I gasped, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her closer, not caring if she could hear my desperate need in the way I tugged at her, urging her deeper into me. A sigh slipped from her lips, vibrating against my skin, and I felt it all the way down to my bones.

Goosebumps rippled along my skin in the wake of her touch, each fingertip leaving a trail of fire and ice in its wake, as if her hands were both a balm and a blaze.

The contrast was sharp—cool, electrifying shivers meeting the molten heat pooling low in my stomach, a tension so thick it pulled tight across my chest.

My hands roamed the wide expanse of her back, tracing every sinew, every curve, as though trying to memorize the way her muscles moved beneath soft skin. I felt the subtle shift of her posture, the delicate flex of her body as she adjusted, as she pressed closer, her breath mingling with mine.

Each movement was deliberate, every inch of contact like a silent conversation—an exchange of yearning and promise.

We were caught in the tide of something that wasn’t just lust, wasn’t just the desperate need of bodies craving each other.

No, it was thicker than that, heavier—like a dark, intoxicating storm that rolled in without warning, flooding me with a desire that felt like drowning, but in the best way possible.

The ache in my chest, the throbbing pull in my veins, was more than just physical. It was the quiet desperation to feel her, to be with her, to lose myself in the space where she and I collided. We were fire and fuel, each breath a flame that threatened to consume us whole.

When Paige’s lips found mine again, it was slower, deeper—an unraveling.

The kiss wasn’t frantic; it was a quiet, lingering hunger, a study of each other’s mouth, of the rhythm we created, of the way our bodies knew how to bend and fit together, like two puzzle pieces that had been waiting their entire lives to meet.

Each brush of her lips was a gentle claim, a slow unraveling of tension that had been wound too tight. My hands tangled in her hair, urging her closer, needing the weight of her against me, needing to feel the full depth of her hunger.

My lungs burned, but I didn’t care.

Paige wasn’t just my breath.

She was the wildfire consuming me, turning everything to ash and desire, leaving only the scorched remnants of myself behind.

Paige’s back was faced towards the door, her body a steady, comforting presence against mine. We were so lost in each other, the touch of her hands, the press of her lips, the weight of her gaze—that everything else in the world faded away.

The hum of the gym, the sounds of our teammates disappearing into the distance, the lingering burn in our muscles—all of it dissolved into the quiet intimacy of the locker room.

We were cocooned in our own world, where nothing existed but the electric pulse of our skin against each other.

The only sound was the rhythmic thumping of our hearts, syncing in a frantic dance that echoed through the silence, our bodies swaying as if guided by some magnetic pull.

But then came the footsteps.

A faint shuffle at first, barely perceptible, but loud enough to snap us back to reality, to shatter the fragile bubble we had created. The sound of sneakers against tile grew louder, sharper, like a warning bell ringing in the distance. Panic flared up in my chest, sudden and hot.

Before I could process the rush of alarm, the door slammed open with a loud crack that felt like it shattered the space between us.

The sound echoed in the room, jarring us from the fragile cocoon we had woven around ourselves.

My body jerked back, nearly losing balance, but Paige’s hands were like fire on my waist, quick and strong, anchoring me as I crashed into her.

Her breath hitched in shock, her eyes wide with surprise, but there was a flash of something else too—anger, protective and fierce—as she twisted around, her gaze sharpening into a glare, directed at the intruder as if daring them to even think about encroaching on our space.

Her posture was all fire, like a lioness ready to protect her territory, and I felt the power of it settle deep in my chest. The room felt smaller now, but it wasn’t the tightness of walls—no, it was the weight of being caught, of being exposed, that made the air thicken.

We pulled apart, hearts still racing, our faces flushed with the rush of embarrassment and the remnants of heat we couldn’t shake.

But when our eyes found the source of the interruption, it wasn’t anger we felt—it was an awkward jolt of vulnerability.

Our friends stood in the doorway, their wide eyes taking in the scene, none of them saying a word, but their grins spoke volumes. Ice, ever the instigator, raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly, knowing smile.

My heart was pounding, and I could feel the heat creeping up my neck, my cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and confusion.

The air between us was thick, suffocating with the pressure of what had just been interrupted, but the doorframe suddenly filled with the faces of our friends—wide-eyed, mouths agape.

And then Ice’s voice cut through the tension, teasing, light but pointed, as her grin stretched across her face like a wolf circling prey.

“I’m sorry, were you two...?” she drawled, her voice dripping with mischief as she let the question hang in the air. The rest of the team filed in behind her, already laughing, already knowing—too much, too soon.

“Nothing happened!” I shot back instantly, the words tumbling out too quickly, too defensively. My face burned, hotter than anything Paige had made me feel just moments before.

“Nothing, huh?” Sarah’s voice was laced with playful challenge as she gave us a knowing, half-smirk. “We’ll just tell Coach then, no big deal.”

“Shut up!” Paige muttered, her voice thick with laughter that didn’t quite cover the surprise still rattling through her. She tried to brush it off, but it was clear—she was as flustered as I was, and the teasing was only beginning.

Azzi’s voice rang out across the room, teasing and loud, almost playful enough to pierce through the tension.

“You guys are so cute,” she teased, the words thick with a mix of affection and mockery. “Kissing in the locker room like it’s a rom-com!”

“Yeah, how long have you two been sneaking around, huh? Making out after practice?” KK’s voice joined in, her grin cheeky, her wink a clear challenge.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes, leaning into Paige’s side for support, her warmth grounding me even as the teasing escalated.

She wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer, her own quiet laugh vibrating against my ear as we tried to cover the embarrassment we both felt.

But the teasing didn’t stop there. It continued in small bursts—every casual glance from across the room felt like a spotlight, every whisper coated in an undertone of knowing.

The rest of the team didn’t let up. For the rest of the day, we were the subject of every whispered conversation, every sly look, every playful jab.

It was harmless, all in good fun—but still, the intensity of it all made us feel like the center of a universe we hadn’t meant to create.

THE NEXT DAY:

Last night had been something out of a fever dream—clothes flung carelessly across the room, the lingering scent of sweat and skin, the remnants of our desperation painted in bruises along our bodies.

Every inch of me ached, a slow burn of pleasure and exertion coiling beneath my skin, a testament to the way we had taken each other apart, piece by piece, only to put ourselves back together again.

But the morning… the morning was no different.

A slow, building sensation—warmth pooling low in my belly, something slick and wet teasing against the most sensitive part of me.

Even in the haze of sleep, it sent shivers up my spine. My breath hitched, my legs twitching beneath the sheets as pleasure stirred me from the edges of unconsciousness.

Then came the first real stroke of her tongue, languid, deliberate. My hips jerked slightly, a moan slipping past my parted lips.

“Oh, fuck—” My voice was rough with sleep, my fingers blindly searching for something—anything—to hold onto as my body arched against the touch.

My eyelids fluttered open, the dim light of morning spilling through the curtains, and there she was. Paige, mouth hot and eager against my folds, licking into me like a woman possessed.

She pulled back just enough to press a kiss to the inside of my thigh, her breath warm against my damp skin.

“Good morning, baby.”

Her voice was thick with amusement, smug and knowing, before she dove back in, this time wrapping her lips around my clit and sucking, sending a jolt of electricity straight through me.

My back arched off the mattress, a sharp gasp tearing from my throat, my hands tangling in the sheets.

I kicked off the duvet, the fabric pooling at my waist, revealing Paige in all her sinful glory—hair twisted into a messy bun, blue eyes locked onto mine, her mouth glistening with me.

My legs were thrown over her strong shoulders, her grip bruising against my thighs as she held me open for her, completely at her mercy.

And God, she looked starved.

"M’sorry," she groaned, voice muffled as her lips pressed deeper against me, her mouth hot and unrelenting.

The apology was empty—pointless—because the moment her tongue flattened and dragged through my folds, all I could do was arch into her, thighs trembling.

A shuddering gasp tore from my lips as the vibration of her words rippled through me. "Got hungry, baby," she murmured, her grip on my hips loosening just enough to tease me with the absence. One hand left its place, drifting lower, a featherlight caress against my entrance that had me keening.

And then—Paige filled me.

Two fingers, warm and deft, stretched me open with a slow, deliberate thrust, the kind that sent a sharp, needy cry tumbling from my lips. My breath hitched, nails clawing into the sheets as pleasure curled low and deep, winding through me like a live wire.

"Please," I gasped, voice shaking, body trembling against her.

She didn’t make me wait. Paige was never cruel like that. Her fingers curled inside me, finding that devastating spot with a precision so sharp, so consuming, that my vision blurred at the edges.

A white-hot rush seared through my spine, my back arching off the mattress as my legs quivered beneath her touch.

"Right there," I moaned, voice raw, desperate. "Right there, baby."

She hummed in satisfaction, her lips never straying far from where she wanted to worship me.

Open-mouthed kisses burned along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, her tongue flicking over the heat she left behind before she latched on, sucking slow, deep, claiming.

A moan spilled from my lips as I felt it—the mark she was leaving, a deep bloom of purple, a whisper of her possession etched into my skin.

"Paige!" I cried out, my hips jerking when she finally—finally—attached her lips to my swollen clit. The sensation was instant, electric.

The dual assault of her mouth and fingers—sucking, stroking, curling—had me spiraling, toes curling into the sheets as heat pooled molten in my belly.

My thighs tensed around her head, every muscle locking up, strung tight with the unbearable need for release.

My walls clenched around her fingers, desperate, unrelenting, pulling her deeper.

A strangled sound ripped from my throat as my head fell back, drowning in it, lost in her.

"Ugh—baby, I’m so close," I whimpered, voice breaking, pleasure surging in waves. "Please—please, don’t stop."

"Come for me, princess," Paige murmured, her voice dark, coaxing, dripping with sinful intent.

And I did.

The coil inside me snapped, pleasure bursting like a tidal wave, swallowing me whole.

My back arched, lips parting on a silent scream as the world around me dissolved into nothing but heat, touch, and the sweet, unbearable pulse of release.

My thighs trembled, my body wracked with aftershocks as Paige worked me through it—her fingers slowing, her tongue soothing, kissing away the remnants of my pleasure until I was nothing but a boneless, trembling mess beneath her.

I gasped, shuddering as I came down, my mind hazy, limbs heavy, completely undone. The room was thick with warmth, with the scent of us, with the lingering echo of my moans still ghosting through the air.

Still catching my breath, I reached for her, pulling her up—bringing her close. Paige hovered above me, her lips glossy, eyes dark, watching me with a knowing smirk.

But I wasn’t done.

With a lazy, satisfied grin, I rolled us over, pressing her into the mattress, my hands already trailing down, teasing, promising.

"Your turn," I purred, voice still wrecked from what she had done to me.

Then, without another word, I disappeared beneath the duvet—ready to return the favor.

"Morning, y’all," Paige greeted smoothly as we stepped into the gym, her voice dripping with the same ease and confidence she always carried.

But this morning, that nonchalance felt almost too casual—like she hadn’t woken up and stared at the same damning evidence on her neck that I had on mine.

The second we crossed the threshold, the air in the gym shifted. Conversations stumbled to a halt, laughter simmered down, and a thick, buzzing silence settled in its place.

It wasn’t the usual quiet before practice, nor was it the exhausted lull after a hard workout. This was the kind of silence that comes before a storm.

And then—like a fuse finally catching fire—it spread.

Smirks ignited on familiar faces, creeping across lips that barely tried to hold back amusement.

Eyes flickered between Paige and me, scanning, assessing, then zeroing in with a focus so sharp I felt it like a brand against my skin.

Azzi. KK. Sarah. Ice. And—oh, for the love of God—now Aubrey, too.

Goddamn it, Ice and her big-ass mouth.

There was a certain mischief in their gazes, their smirks widening as they took in something Paige and I clearly hadn’t noticed yet. A slow, prickling heat climbed the back of my neck, my stomach twisting with unease.

Paige and I exchanged a glance. Confused. Searching. Unspoken words flickering between us.

And then I saw it. Or rather, I felt it.

A dull ache where her lips had pressed against my neck last night, kissing, sucking, marking. And the realization hit me like a slap.

Shit.

The matching bruises. The unmistakable evidence of last night’s reckless hands and wandering lips, still stamped across our skin like ink that refused to fade.

I didn’t even have time to react before KK’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Oh, it definitely was a good morning, huh?” KK smirked. 

"Guess you two didn’t just kiss yesterday," Ice hollered, her voice ringing through the gym like a gunshot.

A wolfish grin stretched across her face as she pointed directly at our necks. "More like… full-on making out, huh?"

Laughter exploded around us, bouncing off the gym walls, each chuckle and cackle making the heat in my face burn even hotter.

Azzi let out a low whistle. "Damn, y’all couldn’t wait till after practice?"

KK snorted, elbowing Sarah. "That’s why they volunteered to clean up last night. Thought they were being slick."

Sarah shook her head with a smirk. "More like sloppy. Y’all didn’t even try to cover it up."

Aubrey, of all people, chimed in with a teasing grin. "At least pretend to be ashamed."

And Paige?

Paige had the audacity to smirk.

She loved this. Thrived in it.

She simply shrugged, all lazy confidence, like she wasn’t the reason I was currently dying of secondhand embarrassment.

"Jealous?" she drawled, the smirk in her voice just as clear as the one on her face.

A collective groan. Eye rolls. KK threw a towel at her. A chorus of “oh, shut up, Paige.”

I buried my face in my hands, groaning as the teasing escalated, but even through my fingers, I could feel Paige’s eyes on me. Not just watching—devouring, savoring, enjoying every second of my suffering.

And across the gym, CD finally glanced up.

Her gaze flickered over us, cool and unreadable, before settling back down, like she were choosing peace instead of engaging in whatever the hell was happening. But it didn’t matter. The damage was done.

This wasn’t just any morning at practice.

We could pretend we had walked in like normal. We could act like nothing had changed.

But the proof was already there, written in bruises and smirks and the way Paige’s fingers brushed against mine like last night wasn’t enough.

And judging by the way our teammates were still grinning, teasing, and whispering, they weren’t going to let this go anytime soon… again.

My body was a canvas of aching muscles and fatigue by the time practice ended. Each movement felt like a betrayal, the weight of the day pressing into my bones, the sting of every drill lingering in my skin.

Geno’s harsh words were still burned into my mind, his voice echoing like a drumbeat, demanding more—more effort, more focus. He’d been relentless today, his critiques like sharp stones, each one sinking deeper than the last.

And then there were the girls—constant teasing, their laughter ringing in my ears, pulling at the edges of my patience. Nothing, absolutely nothing, had gone my way today.

I tried to shake it off, willing the exhaustion to loosen its grip on me, but before I could even gather my thoughts, Geno’s voice cut through the air again, sharp and direct.

“Y/N.”

My name bounced off the walls like a sudden storm, filling the empty gym with a weight I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I turned, locking eyes with him, trying to steady my breath. His gaze was different now, less harsh, almost softened by the weariness of the day.

He ran a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture signaling that he was about to say something important—something that, for once, might actually make me feel like I wasn’t just the target of his frustrations.

“You know I push you because I believe in you, right?” His voice was quieter now, more personal, like he was trying to reach through the tension between us, to calm the storm in both of us.

I let out a breath, slow and controlled, nodding. “I know.” And I did. I knew he was tough on me because he expected the best. Because he believed I could handle it, even when I felt like I was breaking.

But today... today had felt different. The weight of every word, every move, it had all piled on, and no matter how hard I tried, it was impossible to shake it.

The gym was emptying out now, the sound of bag zippers, shoes squeaking on the floor, and quiet chatter filling the space.

I bent down to grab my bag, my fingers brushing against the cold floor as I tried to push all the noise from my head. But then, behind me, a sharp gasp broke through the hum of the room.

“Oh my god…”

It was Paige’s voice, thick with disbelief, and the instant she spoke, the whole world seemed to stop. I froze. I didn’t even need to turn around. I already knew what she was staring at.

The marks. The dark, unmistakable hickeys on my thighs.

I swallowed hard, my heart stuttering in my chest. No. No, not now. Not here.

Azzi’s voice rang out, light and teasing, as if she’d just found the greatest treasure. “No way,” she said, her words drawing a sharp laugh from the rest of the team.

“You guys are out here with hickeys on your thighs now? What’s next? A map of your entire body?”

And just like that, the weight of my embarrassment crashed into me, a flood of heat rushing to my face. I wanted to disappear. To sink into the floor and never come back. But of course, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Stop it!” I groaned, half-laughing, half-wincing. The teasing was relentless, each word digging deeper, a playful but pointed reminder of my private life spilling out into the open. “You’re making it worse!”

Sarah stepped forward, arms crossed, her expression dramatic and serious, but her eyes sparkling with humor.

“Where’s the line, huh?” she asked, her voice dripping with mock concern. “Are we gonna see them on your backs tomorrow?”

The entire team erupted into laughter, the sound of it echoing in the gym, bouncy and light, as if the day’s weight had been lifted by this moment of shared chaos.

Even our coaches, who’d been trying so hard to stay professional, couldn’t hold back a chuckle under their breath.

Paige stood next to me, her face a mirror of my own—exasperated, embarrassed, but also unable to do anything but laugh with the team. We exchanged a glance, our eyes saying everything without a word.

This was the price we paid for trying to keep something private in a world that was far too eager to share it.

And yet, there was something freeing about it too. Every time they found a new angle to tease us, every time the jokes started back up, it felt less like an invasion and more like a badge of honor. We had earned this moment. We were owning it, because what else could we do?

The teasing didn’t stop, but neither did we. And as the laughter rang in my ears, I realized it wasn’t the worst thing in the world after all.

…or maybe it was.

requests are open! Also just wanted to say that I loved writing this <3

© sweettu1ips.tumblr 2025 do not copy, translate or claim any of my writing or works as your own.

[anhilliator1]

Don't think Ares will be that good (hopefully I'll be pleasantly surprised), but I do like how the aesthetic of the Grid changes depending on who made it.

The ENCOM Grid is low-poly and very simple, both an indication of its age, but also makes sense given that this one was likely the only one created by an artificial intelligence, the MCP.

The Tron System Grid is full of sleek shapes and glowing lines, looking vastly different - Kevin Flynn created this Grid as a mirror of the real world, and probably would have taken into account aesthetic considerations.

The Arq Grid is very similar, and this makes sense - it was also created by Kevin, and thus shares many of the aesthetic choices. And yet, it's also evolved on its own, with elements not seen in the Tron System Grid - much like the ISOs that inhabit it.

The Dillinger Systems Grid clearly takes elements from both the Tron System Grid and the ENCOM Grid, likely being a copy of the Tron System Grid created by the ones who made the MCP. It's similar to the latter, but harsher, and has Dillinger's branding all over it if Ares's triangular Identity Disc being engraved with their name means anything - something I suspect is because this Grid was made for a profitable purpose (perhaps military?)

[ratbastardz]

BLOCKY 90s COMPUTER – NPT / ID PACK — ★

System names: The Error Codes, The Windows, The Personal Computer, The Hard Drive, The Glitches, The Cursor Collective, Screen Death, Core Dump, Fatal System Error, Hardware Reset, The Computer Collective, The Dialup System, The Internet, Collective Digitality

Names: Cirrus, Colossus, Sia, Athena, Raven, Ditz, Crash, Syntax, Static, Glitch, Error, Digital, Digi, Pixel, Exe, Megabyte, Terabyte, Gigabyte, Byte, PC, Com, Cube, Cubic, Cubix, Internet, Net, Data, Cyber, Google, Alexa, Siri, Linux, Mac, Apple, Cloud

Pronouns: they/them, it/its, zero/zeros, one/ones, 0101/1010s, voi/void, glitch/glitchs, error/errors, block/blocks, bluescreen/bluescreens, byte/bytes, tech/techs, windows/windows, 365/365s, PC/PCs, mouse/mouses, computer/computers, data/datas, tech/techs, tech/technical, internet/internet, net/nets, web/webs, disc/discs, .exe/.exes, exe/exes, 404/404s, ctrl/ctrl, shift/shifts, alt/alts, del/dels, caplock/caplocks, .com/.coms, .org/.orgs, .net/.nets, hack/hacks, HTML/HTMLs, JPEG/JPEGs, PNG/PNGs, ZIP/ZIPs, key/keys, hardware/hardwares, software/softwares, RAM/RAMs, 🌐/🌐s, 🔌/🔌s, 📀/📀s, 💽/💽s, 💾/💾s, 🖱️/🖱️s, ⌨️/⌨️s, 🖥️/🖥️s, 💿/💿s, 🖨️/🖨️s, 🔈/🔈s, 🔉/🔉s, 🔊/🔊s, 🔇/🔇s, 🖲️/🖲️s, 🛜/🛜s, 📁/📁s, 📂/📂s, 🗃️/🗃️s

Titles: The windows shutdown, The task manager, It who controls the cursor, It who cannot backup your information, It who has 1GB of brain space, It who runs games, It who whirrs when powered on, It who needs a cord, It who feeds on electricity and laughter, It who makes others smile, It who glitches, It who is disconnected, It who processes, The blue screen of death, It who is completely digital, It who has infinite functions, It who is limitless, The sentient computer

Labels: ancianaldern, computypen, robotthing, glitchlexic, techbodiment, aiwarix, cyberthing, bytegender, virtulonogia, techthing, Y10Kglitchic, technarian, phostechial, oldwebcitian, techrobai presentations, mechakeyboardic, keyboardsoundic, HTMLgender, hackgender, guy.exeic, genderprogram, gendercodex, errowebic, webot, webicoded, edgywebaesic, compuvior, compuvesil, computerredacted, computergender, computerkin, computergender², comphonum, codestelic, virtualexic, digitalexic, glitchsilly, 🌐💾emojic, virtualthing, webirus, webcorething, digiminalwebic, computergender³, webcoric, abstratechgender, techrobai, gendersoftware, gendervirtual, genderhacker, artificial intelligence, glitchgender, androidgender, youareanidiotvirusic

System roles: database, techie

Requested by: anon

[sacrifesse]

┣▇▇▇═─ COMPUTER ╱ iNTERNET iD PACK 〰️

💾 ︵︵ REQUESTED BY ANON ᶻ 𝗓

💾 ︵︵ TAGGiNG @id-pack-archive ᶻ 𝗓

✙ ︵︵ SYSTEM NAMES : the computer collective , the internet system/collective/etc. , the web system/collective/etc. , the cyberspace collective , the data system/collective/etc. , the cyber collective , the disk system/collective/etc. , the disc system/collective/etc. , the website system/collective/etc. , the tech system/collective/etc. , the static system , the glitch system/collective/etc. , the digital system/collective/etc. , the pixel system/collective/etc.

✙ ︵︵ NAMES : internette , data , static¹ , glitch¹ , digi¹ , cyber¹ , pixel¹ , byte , nova¹ , dell , siri , link , linux , mac , hal , cypher , neo , cortana , cloud , alexa , web , computesse , techette

¹ names that certain alters of the darling stars use

✙ ︵︵ PRONOUNS : computer computers , comp computer , tech techs , internet internets , inter internet , web webs , web website , website websites , cyber cybers , cyber cyberspace , cyberspace cyberspaces , data datas , disk disks , disc discs , static statics , glitch glitchs , digital digitals , digi digital , digi digis , pixel pixels , byte bytes , virtual virtuals , 💻 💻s , ⌨️ ⌨️s , 🖥️ 🖥️s , 🖱️ 🖱️s , 🖲️ 🖲️s , 🕹️ 🕹️s , 💽 💽s , 💾 💾s , 💿 💿s , 📀 📀s

✙ ︵︵ USERNAMES : digidancing , digistyle , glitchingmemories , incyberspace , digidoll(s) , cyberworld , virtualnet

✙ ︵︵ TiTLES : the digital one , the virtual one , the ghost of cyberspace , prn who hops from key to key , prn who is composed of buttons and wires , the glitching ghost , your online friend , the one behind the screen , prn who is trapped inside the screen , the sentient AI

✙ ︵︵ LABELS : artificial intelligence

✙ ︵︵ GENDER SYSTEMS : genderhacker , gendervirtual / genderdigital , gendersoftware

✙ ︵︵ GENDERS : techrobai , abstratechgender , webcoric , computergender , digiminalwebic , webcorething , webirus , purplewebpopupic , virtualthing , 🌐💾emojic , glitchsilly , 🩵💻emojic , digitalexic , virtualexic

[PT: computer/internet id pack. requested by anon. tagging id-pack-archive. system names. names. pronouns. usernames. titles. labels, gender systems. genders. /END PT]

[dheerajbojwaniconsultant]

Spinal fusion surgery is commonly used to treat a variety of spinal conditions that cause chronic pain, instability, or deformity. Here are some of the key conditions successfully treated with spinal fusion:

Degenerative Disc Disease (DDD) Spinal Stenosis Scoliosis and Other Spinal Deformities Spondylolisthesis Chronic Back Pain

Spinal fusion can provide long-term relief from pain and improve stability for patients, though it is often considered after conservative treatments have failed.

[cipheramnesia]

I would also like to write a deconstructed mech pilot story about a trans woman in a distant demihuman future, who gone far past the end of hoping to live, but she refuses to die because she has the last known copy of Electric Ladyland on vinyl in the entire world. She's given up all hope and dreams and barely knows what's real anymore but survives purely for the sake of one Jimi Hendrix album.

And so gradually she gets one part after another replaced, ship of Theseus style, to be stronger and faster and better equipped to do this thing. She keeps doing more and more of this and her body gets bigger and less human and more artificial, she's adding armor and synthetic brains and multiple organs to the point where she's torn down so much of what she used to be that she can't even remember herself. There's only this titan of a body, thousands of feet high, walking aimlessly around the earth, and whatever is left of her is so small it rattles around the hollow shell.

Then down in the middle where a pilot goes are these vinyl discs, and the mechanisms of her body play them forever on repeat inside her heart on a turntable made out of muscle and bone. They just go on forever while fungus and plants and animals form a whole tiny ecosystem on her armored body, for so long the music on infinite loop by happenstance develops a mind, a kind of sapience that long centuries later allows the ghost of a sad girl in a haunted house to join the only precious thing she's ever known, and at last surrender body and soul to the pilot she worked her lifetime to create.