#i just ordered a binder and i'm super jazzed

[thecupcakeconsumer]

Seeing Red pt. 1 - Injection

A/N: Welcome to part one of a five-part series about the same Claybourne reader and Hi as my others. Enjoy!

Part 1 (You are here!) | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Request: @writers-block0o0​ asked for some more with the same Claybourne reader, with the question “what if she was a Viral too?” She's still Hi's girlfriend, but this is less about them as a couple and more about her!

Navigation: Masterlist is here.

Taglist: @writers-block0o0​. Tell me if you want to be added, because I’d love to add you.

Summary: Something's up with your half-brother, and there's no telling what it is. With his new job at Candela Pharmaceuticals, you expect him to be concerned with his work, but that doesn't explain how much time he's been spending in your father's study.

Warnings: There's no swearing in here! Not that I can tell, anyway, which is really quite surprising. However, it does contain needles, blood mentions, and vomiting, so there's always that.

Word Count: 2,345. Yes, really.

Other Notes: Female reader, and yes, this will have a part two! (Spoiler alert: it’s going to be a series.)

Something was up with Chance Claybourne.

Living almost alone with his half-sister, one didn't see him much around the house, but recently he had spent a suspiciously long amount of time in his father's study.

Our father's study, you tried to remind yourself, padding along the hallway in your socks, exhausted.

You walked by the door to the study, before pausing a moment and putting your ear to the door.

“Useless!” muttered Chance under his breath, the distinct thump on the desk what could only be him hitting it. “It makes no sense.”

Footsteps that started to near the door signaled not only that your brother was wearing shoes in the house, but that he was going to exit, and you scrambled away from the door, walking back so it would appear that you were approaching the study again.

The door swung open, hitting the wall with a loud bang, and Chance stormed out, startling when he saw you so close before starting to near you.

Backing away instinctively, you asked nervously, “Chance, why are yo- what's that in your hand?”

The long metal tip that was pointed out from his hand could only have been that of a syringe, and, terrified, you yelped as he pushed you against the wall.

“I'm sorry.”

He knocked you up the back of your head, sharply forcing your head forward and causing you to black out for a moment from the sudden loss of oxygen to your brain.

When you came to a few moments later, you were on the floor, your brother nowhere to be seen, and feeling the same as you had a moment ago but trepidation crawling its way through your skin.

What did he to to me?

Walking into the kitchen the next day after school, your eyes darted around the room, looking for what was out of place in the usually spotless room.

You saw it.

Raw ground beef, unwrapped but still on its tray, dripping.

Gross.

Who would leave that out? Unless it was a subliminal message telling you to cook dinner, there was no reason to have such a thing on the counter.

It looks good.

You froze, your eyes focusing on it, the urge making you want to vomit.

No, no, no, that's disgusting, there is no way I'm eating that. Realizing suddenly how close you had come, standing in front of the counter before even knowing that you had moved, you backed away.

To the other side of the counter.

Out of the room, for good measure.

What was that?

You walked decisively to your room, closing the curtains, before sitting down on your bed and pulling out your homework, hoping to take your mind off of what had just happened.

It was a shame that algebra wasn't intellectually stimulating enough to absorb you fully and keep you from your thoughts.

What had just happened in the kitchen was most definitely not normal. While it was a tendency of yours to check what was in the fridge right after getting home from school, you never would have pulled out any raw meats, nor noticed them as you just had.

So what had it been that possessed you in that instant, to think that the globs that were useless unless cooked were something that you wanted to eat?

“Y/N?”

“Chance?” What are you doing home? “Buzz off.”

You were still mad at him over what had happened yesterday, though you still weren't sure of how much of that you had imagined. After all, since what happened with the Gamemaster, you had had far too many intrusive thoughts and imagined being knocked out by a stranger in a thousand ways.

It wouldn't have been the first time.

Then, “I thought you were working late?”

“I got off early.”

It seemed too convenient.

“When did you get home?”

“Just a couple of minutes before you.”

“You left something on the counter.”

“Did I? I'm surprised you noticed.”

You scowled at the door suspiciously before proceeding to ignore the person on the other side in favor of silently wondering why he had been acting so strange recently without his voice to prompt more questions.

Lunch had never been so awkward as it was here, sitting with Ben, Tory, Shelton and, of course, Hi, and it certainly wasn't because of the conversation.

Oh, no. While it wasn't always interesting, the attitudes of everyone made any discussion topic into something far more passionate than it usually was. That wasn't the problem.

The problem was that you couldn't bring yourself to eat the food in front of you, and the first bite of your salad had almost made you gag.

In fact, you'd been nauseous even before that, almost passing out in the hall and catching yourself just in time on your way to the cafeteria.

“He was too,” argued Hi, as you tuned in to the conversation, before pulling out his English textbook, turning to the page on which Shakespeare's portrait was and holding it up to his face. “Wherefore art thou, oh opium? A poppy by any other name would taste as sweet. Perhaps I doth need to eat some more of this.”

Shelton and Tory snickered while Ben groaned at his impression of the English poet, complete with a ridiculous accent, but you didn't even crack a smile.

“Y/N?” Hi poked you on the arm which was holding up your head. “That was hilarious. Why aren't you laughing?”

“Sorry, it was so funny I forgot to laugh,” you replied bitterly, glaring at the back of some random student's head for lack of any better place to look.

Your boyfriend looked from you to Ben. “She's behaving like you, Blue. Which can only mean one thing, and that's that you infected her with your updog!”

“Shut up, Hi. That didn't work the last fifty times, what makes you think it'll work now?”

At least I'm not the only person in a foul mood. Shame it wasn't as common for you as it was for the oldest of your friend group.

“I'm going to the washroom,” you announced abruptly, standing and ignoring how you almost collapsed.

“Don't fall in! I love you but there's a line!” called Hi as you left.

Though grateful for the quiet that started to bring back your appetite, it certainly wasn't a salad that you were hungering for.

Like the other day, all that you wanted was meat, and the very thought was disconcerting as you turned and entered the bathroom, going to the sink and washing your hands, hoping the coolness of the water would help to jerk you back into reality.

Looking up at the mirror, what you saw caused you to blink rapidly, not convinced that it could be real.

You leaned forward to try and see more clearly what you had thought you had seen – a fringe of vibrant red around your iris, the flecks seeming to fade before your, well, eyes.

I must be imagining things.

“Y/N?” Tory frowned at you concernedly from the doorway of the bathroom, startling you. “Everything okay? That time of the month?”

Desperate for any way to explain what was happening, you found yourself nodding in agreement.

“Want some chocolate?”

Chocolate. The very thought was repulsive for some reason, tinging your skin with green as the nausea you had managed to distract yourself from worked its way to the surface, and you scrambled to move into a stall before chucking up what little you had managed to eat.

“This isn't just your period, is it?” asked Tory, holding back your hair. “Does it have something to do with Hi? You’re not as you usually - did the two of you?” 

“Jesus Christ, no! I think it's just a stomach bug. Probably just a twenty-four hour thing. I'll stop in at the nurse's office and get some Pepto, I should be fine.”

“Can I grab you anything? Are you sure you want to stay the rest of the day?” If there was one thing that could be said for Victoria Brennan, it was that she cared – and while her compassion was a comfort on most days, right now you just wanted her to leave you alone. “Do you want to come back and sit with us?”

Shaking your head, you replied, “I'll be fine. I think I'm just going to walk around a little bit before class starts.”

“What should I tell the boys?”

“I don't care. I'm in a dramatic love affair with Jason Taylor and you caught us in a steamy make out session in the science lab,” you suggested sarcastically, before moving to the door and leaving to collect your thoughts.

Privately.

What's Jason got that I don't? was the first thing you saw upon opening your phone, a joking text from Hi that he had sent at lunch.

You were seated in the passenger seat of Chance's car, the drive seeming excessively long, when it happened.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment and begged you to let it go faster, to give in to something distinctively animal, and without hesitation you embraced it.

Your vision seemed to clear, and you caught your reflection in the mirror, eyes gleaming red.

Shit.

It wasn't just your imagination. Something was distinctly wrong, and you turned to stare pointedly out the window, desperate to ensure that your brother wouldn't notice.

The drive home was too short. You couldn't risk whatever sort of episode you were having not ending before you got there.

You needed a different destination, and quick.

What Tory had said earlier was what first came to mind.

“I need to go to the drug store.”

Even looking out the window, you could practically feel your brother's suspicious glance. “Why?”

“I need supplies.”

“What supplies?” he pressed.

“Supplies,” you emphasized, hearing the breath Chance sucked in as he realized what you meant.

It might make the awkward drive longer, but it would give you more time to try and snap out of whatever you were going through, the car's air freshener becoming so suffocating that you rolled down the window.

Whatever you were going through, it was suspiciously close to what Hi had described when he was talking to you about flaring, and that was what scared you the most.

How would he react?

How does he snap out of this? Once he had described how slapping Ben in the face had ended a flare, and experimentally, you lifted your leg before violently jamming it against the bottom of the glovebox.

SNUP

Well, that worked well.

“You good?” asked Chance, voice tentative as if somehow the implication that you were on your period made you suddenly prone to lashing out at any given opportunity.

Eyes no longer red, you turned to meet his. “Yes. Just fine.”

As if. Something was wrong. And considering that it probably had something to do with whatever he had done to you the other day, it was probably best if you didn't tell him.

For some reason, the syringe didn't seem so much like your imagination any more.

Eleven o'clock, the numbers at the top of your phone screen read.

Late. Late enough that nobody would see you for several more hours.

Late enough that it was safe to slip out of bed and go into the bathroom, turning on the light and closing the door before turning to the mirror.

Before you lost your courage, you closed your eyes, trying to summon the feeling that had overwhelmed you in the car.

Animal. Letting go of what you thought was right, forgetting about school.

Forgetting about everything but your instincts.

It came almost too easily.

SNAP

Flare.

You inhaled deeply, the smell of the bar of soap in the dish on the counter sharp and bitter, eyes now able to distinguish the slimmest of cracks threatening to form in the porcelain of the sink.

It was exhilarating. It was wild.

And it was terrifying how easily it had come.

“Y/N Claybourne,” you whispered, your name seeming twice as loud as it should have been in the otherwise silent room, all of your senses heightened.

There was no hiding from it. Something was wrong with you.

Something that seemed suspiciously similar to what the Virals had been going through, but your eyes weren't yellow.

They were red as blood.

It hadn't taken several days. It had come on almost instantly, but with the same symptoms.

Just… more control.

What is it? It couldn't be the same as what Hi and Ben and Shelton and Tory had gone through, but it was remarkably similar. It couldn't be the same virus - that had been eliminated along with Dr. Karsten.

It has something to do with Chance.

Shuddering as you felt bile rise to your throat, you turned off the light, the only thing you could see in the darkness the haunting reflection of the red eyes in the mirror, taunting you with questions that you weren't sure you could trust anyone to answer.

Frustrated, your fist reeled back, thumb on the outside as you Ben had taught you, before ramming into the glass of the mirror and shattering it.

SNUP

Your amplified strength had caused it to break with far more force than anticipated, shards starting to fall into the sink and the sharp pain enough to kill your flare. 

What was that?

You sucked in a ragged breath, blood starting to drip from your hand, before turning away, unlocking the bathroom door and crying out as you find a breathless Chance on the other side.  

“Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you bit out, fighting the urge to look over your shoulder. “I'm going to bed.”

And with that, you pushed past him, ignoring his calls and idly brushing your hand to remove the shards of glass.

Breaking a mirror, you were alright with him finding.

Why? Not so much.

Let's hope he never finds out.

You could only pray that he wouldn't notice how much more force it took to make such a break than you possessed.

A/N: That’s done. And there we go! Thanks for reading. Leave a like or comment? Part two is here!

[nonbinaryresource]

Hi, I don't know if this is the right place to ask this but I'm still new to the non-binary community and scared to bind. I am non-binary and gender-fluid but I like to present both masculinly and femininely. If I bind will it ruin my chest or make it sag? I am a bit top heavy too and worried that might impact it? I just don't wan't to end up doing something that will make it hard for me to look feminine again ....

Welcome! <3

I’m going to go ahead and link @transgenderteensurvivalguide​‘s Binding FAQ because it is super comprehensive and should be able to answer all your questions - including ones you didn’t even know you had yet.

No, binding will not “ruin” your chest. However, yes, binding can cause sagging.

However, saggy breasts are still beautiful! If your breasts are feminine, then your breasts are feminine, whether saggy or perky or whatever else! Normalize saggy boobs! Saggy boobs are a natural part of life and the human body!

But I will clarify that sagging is not an immediate side effect. Sagging is something that happens overtime. How fast and how much sagging you see can be dependent on how long you bind when you bind, how often you bind, and even just plain genetics and age. You can certainly try out binding for a while to see if it’s for you without major risk of sagging. You can make a decision then of what you’re most comfortable with.

You can also help control your feminine look by utilizing different bras (make sure it’s a well fitting bra and all that jazz).

One thing to know about being top heavy and binding is that binding will never get you perfectly flat - but it will definitely get you a flatter look.

Since you’re here, I also want to encourage you to make sure you know how to safely bind. I’ll just go over the most common tips real quickly here. When you first start, it is best to bind for short amounts at a time (like 30 - 60 minutes at a time) in order to give your body time to adjust and to figure out your own limits and comfort zones. You shouldn’t wear your binder for more than 8 hours a day (in some cases this may mean bringing a bra or undershirt to change into if you’ll be out for longer than that). Never sleep or exercise in your binder. Pause to take some deep breaths every  now and then. Take breaks from binding when you can to help prevent pain and soreness and recover your breathing. Always do some light back and shoulder stretches once you take your binder off. Most importantly, take regular stock of your body and stop immediately if there’s any pain and know when to see a doctor for your pain!

Finally, remember, your chest does not define you. Your chest doesn’t define your gender or your whole aesthetic. There are tons of ways to play around with your look aside from how shapely or how flat your chest is. Your chest presentation is merely one part of a whole.

Please feel free to ask more questions as needed.

~Pluto