#then surgery on wednesday

[claypigeonpottery]

didn’t think to take a picture of the bottom or the top layers lmao but the kiln is filled!

[corrodedparadox]

Shrimp miku

[boojangs]

You, Me, Us: Chapter 16

To Dance With Wolves: Chapter 31

Two for Tripping (Into Love): Chapter 8

The Gothification of Enid Sinclair

[dailyastarionpics]

[zero-is-nebulous]

Yippee! Congrats tails!

This is a comission I did for @gareaf ! Tadaaaa

[thescrolls-haveforetold]

also, like. 10USD sketch commissions are going rn as like. An Emergency. because currently my mother and I are Broke and i need to go in for a surgery. Please reblog.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Tonsil Troubles

Pairings: Weems x Thornhill x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.9K

Summary: Reader has been ignoring their body, Weems and Thornhill intervene.

TW: Tonsillitis, medication, hospitals, sickness, surgery

A/n I’ve kinda started doing requests in a random order … whoops. This is based off an A03 request I had.

The pain was back again. You had had the same pain a few weeks ago and a couple months before that. But it was just a cold. Or so you thought. It hurt to swallow. It was far too hot. And it your throat hurt. But as long as it was a cold you could deal with it yourself. So, you hid. You hid the pain. You hid from your friends at mealtime, so they didn’t question why you were only eating soft foods. You hid your symptoms and your misery from students and teachers alike.

So far it had been going ok. You looked a little flushed from what may be the begging of a nasty fever, but you were doing semi-alright for yourself.

You were sat in botany. Ms Thornhill was blissfully distracted drawing a diagram on the board which meant she wasn’t paying much attention to you. Thinking you were in the clear you shut your eyes and laid your hot cheek on the cool surface of the lab tables. You let a small sigh escape at the nice feeling and relaxed your muscles.

You were beyond tired, and everything hurt. That’s probably why it was so easy for you to fall asleep. You hadn’t meant to. Your body simply demanded rest and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Ms Thornhill continued teaching for the rest of the lesson. Once all the textbooks were shut and put away, she returned to her desks and dismissed her students. After a few minutes she looked up from her lesson planner and frowned. You were asleep in the back row. Your hair covering your eyes and your cheeks holding an unnatural flush to them.

Ms thornhill stood and came over to your side.

The first thing you registered was a hand rubbing circles on your back. You let out a soft groan as you gained your surroundings and sat up slightly. After a second you swallowed and failed to contain a wince.

“Y/n? Are you feeling alright honey?” A voice asked but everything was moving too fast, and you simply placed your head back on the table.

“Y/n?” The voice asked again, and you felt someone brush the hair from your face, smoothing it back with one hand and placing another hand on your forehead. You lent into the touch; their hands much cooler than you hot face.

You heard someone suck a sharp breath.

“Oh honey.” The voice sounded slightly sad. “You're not feeling good, are you?” You hummed an affirmative sound and nuzzled into the hand.

“Let’s get you to the nurse. That fever needs to be brought down and I’m sure your feeling awful.” You whined softly. “I know I’m so mean, caring about your wellbeing. You shouldn’t have even come to class like this Y/n what were you thinking?” She said and you finally connected the dots. Ms Thornhill.

Lifting you head from the desk you looked at her tiredly. “Im fine.” Your voice sounded awful, and Ms Thornhill scoffed.

“No. No honey, you're not. Not by a long shot.” She started to pack up your things for you. “Let’s get you to the nurse. Can you walk?” She asked and you gave a defeated sigh and nodded. “Alright then, up you come.” She offered you a hand and pulled you to your feet. You stumbled slightly, still very tired and you felt an arm around your waist to stabilise you.

Ms Thornhill held you close to her side the whole walk down. You were too tired to care and even rested your head on her shoulder which made the trip probably take twice as long. Ms Thornhill had your bag on her shoulder and an arm around your waist as she practically held you up.

Once you were steered into the infirmary, she guided you over to a bed and gently pushed down on your shoulders to make you sit. She placed the bag down by the bed. “Wait here, I’ll go grab the nurse.” She said and you nodded.

A second later she returned with the nurse behind her. Ms Thornhill came and sat down on one of the plastic chairs near the bed and watched silently.

The nurse began to do a short exam and asked a few questions. She had you poke out your tongue and had said your tonsils were inflamed. That made sense to you. When you told her it hurt to swallow Ms Thornhill bit her lip and furrowed her brow but stayed silent. After a minute the nurse asked if you had felt this way before where you sheepishly admitted that it had been a reoccurring thing for a few months now. Ms Thornhill looked slightly disappointed. After the exam was over the nurse pulled back the sheet on the bed.

“Am i not allowed to leave?” You asked eyeing the bed warily.

“Well, you have tonsillitis and based off how often it seems to be reoccurring. I think it would be best to stay here until we can get someone to take you to the emergency room. You will most likely need them removed with how much trouble their causing.” You looked at her blankly.

“Surgery?” You asked and she nodded.

“A minor one. But yes, surgery all the same.” She said and you looked to Ms Thornhill who wore an expression of shock and concern. She knew you well enough to see you were panicking. She got up from the chair and came to crouch in front of you at your eye level. She took your shaking hands in hers and spoke softly.

“If you would like i can come with you. I’ll be there the whole time. I think Ms Weems will come along as she’s in charge of all you kids' wellbeing and I stay with you if she’ll let me. Honey i know this is scary but I promise you will be ok. Can you trust me on this one.” She asked and you nodded. The nurse watched before whispering to Marilyn she was going to phone Weems from her office and to stay with you for now. Then she left and it was just you and Ms Thornhill.

The botany teacher stood from where she was sat and patted the bed, encouraging you to climb in.

“Might as well get comfy.” She smiled and you nodded, still reeling from the implications of what was to come. You crawled up the bed and Ms Thornhill tucked you in and pulled the chair closer to sit beside you.

“Close your eyes sweetheart. You must be exhausted. I won’t leave. Get some rest now.” She said and you nodded again and rested your head on the pillow. Your hair framed yoru face as you began to drift off. Ms Thornhill pulled out a book she had seemingly brought with her and began to read, glancing up at your sleeping form from time to time just to check on you. Your brow was pinched even asleep which indicted you were in some degree of pain even in unconsciousness.

The next time you woke up it was to the sound of voices. After a minute you made out the first, Ms Thornhill, and the lilt of an english accent told you Ms Weems was also present. You opened your eyes slowly and observed the scene. The nurse and the two teachers were talking in the corner and not really sparing much attention to where you were in the bed. Ms Thornhill mentioned something about nerves, and you sat up against the headrest. The movement drew the attention of the botanist, and she made eye contact and came over.

“Hi y/n.” She said softly taking up her chair again. “How are you feeling honey?” She asked and you looked at her for a second before saying.

“Awful.”

“Alright. That settles it. Lariss- Ms Weems and I will come with you to the ER. The sooner we get there the sooner we get back.” She said and brushed the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. You heard the sound of heels and turned to face the headmistress.

“Hello Y/n. How’s the throat feeling now darling?” She asked and you sighed.

“Sore.” You said and Ms Thornhill looked at Weems.

“I think we should take her in. Are you good to drive or do you want me to?” The teacher asked and Weems shook her head.

“I’ll drive. You sit in the back with Ms L/n. It's a short trip to the Jericho ER.” Weems said and you simply watched their back and forth silently.

“Alright. Are you ready to go y/n?” Ms Thornhill asked and helped you out of the bed.

“Yeah.” You sighed and stretched.

The trip to the hospital was simple. You sat in the back with Ms Thornhill, you flushed face pressed to the cool glass window, your eyes closed as you walked the line between sleep and full awareness.

Once Ms Weems had parked Ms Thornhill helped you out of the car and the small group went into the emergency room. You waited with Ms Thornhill while the principal went up to the desk and got you checked in.

The next little bit passed in a blur, most likely because of the fever and before you knew it you were in a bed looking up at the two teachers who had escorted you there. A mask was placed over your mouth and nose, and you were told to count back from ten as you drifted off into a drug induced sleep.

The next time you woke your head felt it was in the clouds. Someone was holding your hand and your mind felt warm and fuzzy. Cracking open an eye, you broke out into a grin.

The face of your favourite blonde principal was looking down at you with a soft but worried expression, she was also holding your hand. Without thinking you began to talk under the heavy haze of the drugs you were on for the surgery.

“You're so pretty” you said dreamily. Ms weems went red to the tips of her ears while Marilyn muffled her laugh with her hand from where she sat on your other side that wasn’t currently occupied by a blushing blonde Brit.

Before Weems could open her mouth to protest you spoke again.

“I wish you were my mother.” You sighed looking sad.

At the half mortified look on Weems face more so from shock than anything Marilyn failed to contain her laugh and your head whipped around to look at her.

“You too.” You whispered. Both teachers paused and looked mildly honoured and concerned. Weems gave your hand a gentle pat.

“I love you both.” You smiled and closed your eyes.

“Hush now Y/n Sleep my darling.” Weems said in a softer tone than you had ever heard from her.

Even with your eyes shut still you frowned. “But i don’t want you to leave.”

“We won’t” Both teachers said at once.

“We’ll be right here the whole time” Ms Weems said.

You gave a sleepy nod followed by a yawn and fell asleep to the feeling of hands stroking your hair and a thumb rubbing over your knuckles. It was soft. It was safe. It was home.

[pfhwrittes]

it's wip wednesday and yeah sure i could share a snippet of my other wips but unfortunately the worms have decided to work on something else. so you get a snippet of whatever this is.

(transmasc!gaz x soap texting-fic that is definitely not semi-autobiographical no siree, not even a little.)

also, this snippet isn't 18+ only but the longer work is so i'll be marking that as mature content when i finally post it.

TW: references to surgery and previous injury, but nothing graphic.

-- [1 new message from: Fairy Liquid]  >> bored :( 

kyle snorts out an ugly laugh and taps away from the video of some weird russian couple making the tackiest fucking furniture to reply.

<< my heart breaks for you mate it really does. 

>> i know >> your pure greetin for me

<< *you’re.

>> fuck off garrick >> i’m bored and *you’re* lyin in bed all pretty doin nothin about it :( 

kyle rolls his eyes at johnny’s dramatics and readjusts himself on the mountain of pillows behind him, conscious of the way the tape on his incisions pull and the way his fucked up shoulder from the bloody helicopter incident aches.

[idontknowreallywhy]

WIP Wednesday

As an antidote to all the angst I’ve been posting, I offer a very silly scene that forms part of a 5 & 1 I have planned out in my head but not quite got around to writing much of yet. It is set some way in the future, as will become obvious…

💙😱💙😱💙😱💙😱💙😱💙😱💙😱💙😱

“Scott Carpenter Tracy, I swear if you don’t stop whinging I am going to End you.”

Her husband responded with sad blue eyes and made pathetic grabby hands at the cup of coffee she had brought him. She held it slightly out of reach but he didn’t move an inch to make the effort to claim it.

“I’m not sure toddlers should be allowed caffeine.”

“But I’m recovering from surgery!”

“It was a 15 minute routine procedure under local anaesthetic and you didn’t even need stitches!”

He managed to look even sadder.

“And it was two weeks ago!!”

“But it still huuuurts.”

There were no complications! The doctor has checked twice since! You’ve medically recovered.

He pulled the blanket over his head and sighed pathetically.

“You took less time to get back to work after being in a coma!”

A muffled whine from under the blanket drew some distinction between a mere head injury and this which was far worse.

“Can you at least get dressed to accompany the heavily pregnant mother of your SIXTH child to lunch?”

“Do I have to wear pants?”

She threw a pillow at his head and left the coffee on the far side of the room.

😱💙😱💙😱💙😱💙😱💙😱💙😱💙😱💙

[sentientcave]

Once Again I am Asking You to Celebrate WIP Wednesday (Baybeee)

More Rugby! Contains Gaz, a reference to top surgery, a joke about having too many nipples, and no actual rugby. Maybe there will never be any actual rugby. Who can say?

Sunday mornings are always football with Simon and Johnny’s friend Gaz, as least when he’s not deployed. He’s a lieutenant or something, part of the unit that your friends used to be in. He’s nice, if a bit too charming for you to be entirely comfortable around him. On sunny days he always finds an excuse to take his shirt off and flash all his well-maintained muscle at any watchers, but annoyingly, today he’s trying to persuade you to do the same. “Ah, come on, Ripper. You’re gonna be as pale as that one if you don’t get some sun,” he says playfully, jerking his thumb in Simon’s direction. Simon is, as always, fully covered, with long sleeves under his t-shirt and socks up to his knees.

You roll your eyes. It would be physically impossible for you to ever be as pale as Simon, regardless of how little sun you get. “I think between you and Johnny, we’re showing plenty of skin as a group.”

“Never have seen ye take off yer shirt.” Johnny leans against Gaz’s shoulder, blue eyes curious. “Never even change ‘fore or after games. Ye just goan home as is.”

“So?” you ask.

“Johnny, leave ‘im alone.” Simon ruffles your hair playfully. “Lad’s just shy.”

“Not shy,” you say amiably. “Just have several sets more nipples than the average person. Bit self conscious about it.”

Johnny’s eyes bug out. “Really?”

Simon swats his arm. “No not really, Johnny. ‘E’s ‘avin’ us on.”

“Did we come here to play football, or did we come here to speculate on the number of nipples I have?” In all fairness, you probably could take off your shirt without worrying about it now. Your scars are a few years old, fully faded, and you’ve put on so much muscle since (and especially since getting to know Simon and Johnny) that you don’t even notice them when you look in the mirror now. Still, the risk of them seeing, the risk of them noticing and treating you differently is not one you’re particularly keen on.

“Sure we came here to play, but tha’s all Ah’m goan ta be able ta think about noo.”

“Well, I don’t see how that’s my problem.”

Simon’s hand comes down on the back of your neck, that affectionate scruff he usually uses on Johnny. “Aw, come on, Rip, ‘e’s not goin’ to be useful to anyone if you don’t. If you’re not shy and you’ve got the normal amount of nipples, don’t see why not.” His hand is heavy, his thumb brushing across the skin under your ear deliberately. “Wun’t mind seein’ the results of all that work you’ve been puttin’ in myself.”

You give him a sharp look for encouraging the other two, but he’s unconcerned, just gently squeezes the back of your neck. Your knees wobble.

SHARE WHAT YOU'RE WORKING ON! I DON'T DO TAGS ABOUT IT BUT IF YOU WANT TO YOU SHOULD! WIP WEDNESDAY FOR EVERYONE.

[hislittleraincloud]

All the gays going nuts over this and all I can think of is "How's my new nose look?"

[lifblogs]

Spine injury. L5 disc is probably fucked up again like in 2022. It’s impairing the use of my left leg and also causing a ton of pain in the left leg.

[wrenhavenriver]

hospital again

[iero]

Had a panic attack that literally woke me up in the middle of the night last night and lasted until the early morning and let me tell you, that shit is TERRIFYING. Needless to say, I think I'm ready to go back to work.

[fyodorkitkat]

WIP Wednesday - 5

From the upcoming third chapter of If there is a God, then... Fyodor recalls a pivotal moment for his most loyal subordinate

"A long life with no end on the horizon had taken a toll on him, and one night they had been sitting in the living room of Ivan's humble home playing cards and drinking. Fyodor didn't mind the company, and Ivan was rather good at games so it was never boring to play with him. Ivan had lost on purpose, and Fyodor couldn't help but ask. "Is something wrong?" He hadn't even looked up from his hands as he shuffled the deck as Ivan asked something of him that really would have been inappropriate if it had been anyone else. "Could you remove my unhappiness?" He had spoken it resolutely, and Fyodor looked up in silence, knowing there was more to his request. He wouldn't ask such a foolish question without a plan.

They had decided to figure out the extent of their ability to heal, though with a sample size of one it really wouldn’t yield a true answer. There was no way to know if all of them had similar capabilities or not, their abilities were all incredibly different, so Fyodor knew it was likely the parameters of their inability to die differed as well.

Ivan had looked as calm as Fyodor had ever seen him, laying on his dining room table, as Fyodor lined up the ice pick with his upper eyelid. And in one fluid motion without giving him a warning, lest he flinch, tapped it quickly, the instrument piercing his acquaintance’s bone and then his brain. It only worked for around two hours. Ivan was calm and serene, but he had stuck around to make sure he was okay enough to function. When the effects of their dining room lobotomy wore off, Ivan was in shambles. "It simply won't work I'm afraid, and you'll have to figure out how to do it to yourself then if you intend to use it to numb your pain," Fyodor was annoyed by the prospect of him asking him to do this regularly, there was no way. He'd simply leave the city to avoid him if need be. His curiosity had been satisfied and there really was nothing left in it for him.

But Ivan wouldn’t let it go, and by next week they had met up for tea only for Ivan to lay out the supplies and instruments for their next “experiment” on his coffee table. This time Fyodor would put a hole in his skull with a manual cranial drill, then scratch Ivan’s frontal lobe with a knife, and for good measure, pour rubbing alcohol into the hole.

He sat with a look of indifference as Ivan described the procedure with glee."

[bellamygate]

why didn't anyone tell me jimmy is a literal doctor imagine ur surgeon doing bl on the side what even