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#but there’s just one appendectomy scar
toodrasticallydumb · 11 months
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@joethehoeee I was promised money for my Barbara-with-a-bun as guaranteed at the very bottom of this post contract:
Jk I was all to ready to comply for free ;}
Barbara with a bun, my beloved ❤️
Speaking of beloved……………………………………………………………………………………………look, it was bound to happen at some point…shirtless avocado, my love.
I couldn’t help myself, okay?! IT WAS TEMPTING ME FOR AGES AND ITS NOT LIKE I HAVE A REPUTATION TO UPKEEP
Still learning how to properly color in scars so bear with me there, plus this is some older art from I believe about 1 month ago or so which, I have improved since then at coloring scars, except the very bottom image with Walter holding Barbara’s face, that one is most current
(And yes, this idiot would be far more worried about Barbara when she’s going to be just fine while he’s literally moments from passing out because of blood loss and a concussion.)
Top right is inspired from this prompt on pinterest/tumblr:
Because if doesn’t describe them, then idk what does.
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tojipie · 5 months
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Hello my love! I know you’ve been gone for a while but I wanted to stop by and ask if you have any realistic but unhinged toji headcannons? Hopefully this gets you into the spirit of writing again, I don’t mean to overstep. We miss you❤️.
hello sweet anon :( i’ve admittedly been struggling with my mental health a whole ton which is why i’ve been gone but this ask really did help me get back into the groove of writing just a bit <3 thank u for stopping by ! mwah
this is just me saying shit to say it pls don't take this srsly !
content: fluff, mentions of alc, smoking, suggestive talk but not smut, a little angst
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was a victim of the xandemic in his late 20s so one of his pupils is a little bigger than the other
initially hated ambulances because of the absurd cost but grew to hate them even more because the attention makes him uncomfortable. oh you want to take his blood pressure? ew, don’t touch him. that’s weird. would rather patch himself up than sit under a gaggle of fluorescent lights for 6 hours in an ER waiting room.
shiu has been a co-signer on every apartment he’s ever rented because his credit score is in the single digits.
picked up vaping on accident after the corner store ran out of cigs when he needed them most. still prefers marlboros because he likes that searing feeling in the back of his throat. throws the cartons out his car window like a freak.
his drivers license is crumpled. like physically crumpled like paper. he has no idea how it happened but when he needs to use it at the liquor store he definitely gets stares.
will forever be devoted to his late wife. mentally at least. she’s the love of his life but in his mind sex with other women isn’t really cheating right? like he uses a condom sometimes so it’s fine probably? he's not gonna stay celibate for the rest of his life. the topic keeps him up at night.
has a scar from an appendectomy right above his v line that women go crazy for. he’s not entirely sure what they like about it but he’s been touched there so many times that it’s morphed into an erogenous zone.
slut for fast food. would rather get a vanilla shake and dip his fries in it till his stomach hurts than spend time at a sit-down restaurant. eats like shit but still maintains his physique, infuriatingly enough.
hates being in public more than you’d think. it’s a deeply uncomfortable feeling that stems from the risk that being discovered poses during jobs. he prefers to have groceries ordered, meals delivered, and shiu take his car down to the shop if needed. if hes out and about he’s either at the casino tables or the liquor store.
is down for whatever if the price is right. like truly. older women love what he has going on which works well in his favor because it puts a roof over his head. absolutely no shame once money is involved.
has tried to get help for his gambling addiction a few brief times. got close once and then decided to hit the blackjack tables to celebrate his progress. he jokes about how things ended up from time to time but deep down he knows it’s pretty serious.
shops at the goodwill bins mostly. made an effort to stop stealing as much because of how dirt cheap the thrift is but couldn't stick to it. likes to go down the jeans isle and look for change in the pockets. his biggest score was a 5 dollar bill that had been through the washer so many times it was practically blank.
there's a little voice in the back of his head telling him to have more kids and he's not opposed to listening.
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farfromsugafanfic · 4 months
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Stray kids reaction to seeing surgery scars on their s/o
Anon 🐻‍❄️
SKZ Reaction To Seeing Surgery Scars On Their S/O
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Genre: fluff, suggestions of smut
Warnings: mentions of surgery, body insecurity, cancer, mention of disease and injuries
A/N: My first anon 🥹 thank you so much and I hope you enjoy it. Also, thank you for 1,000 followers 🥺
Chan:
Chan knew about your appendectomy scar and how it was one of your complexes, but you'd always managed to keep it hidden from him. He tried to express that it was perfectly normal to have surgical scars and that it wouldn't change how he felt about you, but it still took you time to show it to him.
Pulling up your shirt, you winced as the keloid scar became visible. Chan stayed quiet before gently running the softest part of his fingertips over the rough scar.
"Does it hurt?" he asked.
"Sometimes," you said. "But not too much anymore."
He nodded in understanding and reached down to intertwine your fingers.
Minho:
Minho understood why you were scared for him to see your scoliosis surgery scar because he too had a surgery scar that he felt self-conscious of. While he'd sometimes caught a small glimpse of it, you always tried to keep it hidden. Eventually, though, it became impossible to deny the intimacy growing between the two of you.
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," he said, trying to lighten the mood with some light sarcasm. It seemed to work since you laughed and some of the tension in your body. When you finally threw your shirt aside, his breath hitched at the long vertical scar down your spine. It lined up with the curves of your body linearly, making your body look like two butterfly wings sprouting from the scar.
"Fuck, you're so gorgeous."
Changbin:
Changbin knew you had a tumor removed from your kidney as a kid, but it never crossed his mind that you might have a scar. While you sometimes even forget about it, there are times you get reminded. Someone looks a little too hard at your abdomen when wearing a crop top, or someone was bold enough to ask what happened.
You'd long put your childhood brush with cancer behind you, but when Changbin first noticed your scar, your body filled with dread. Would it be the last straw and he would finally find you completely unattractive and dump you?
However, Changbin didn't say a word and just placed his palm over it. He'd continue to do this, sometimes without even thinking about it, just reminding you that he loved every part of you, even the parts you sometimes wanted to hide.
Hyunjin:
Hyunjin noticed that you always wore long sleeves. At first, he didn't think much about it, until there was an especially hot day when you refused to take off your long-sleeved shirt. When he questioned it, he saw the panicked look in your eyes and knew something was wrong.
After a bit of soft prodding, you eventually explained that you'd broken your arm as a kid and had had surgery, leaving you with a scar. Hyunjin was silent for a few moments.
"Is that all? You thought I would mind that?"
"Well, I mean, you're so gorgeous."
"I still have scars, babe." He chuckled and reached for your sleeve, gently pulling it up and rubbing the pad of his thumb over the scar. He didn't say anything else, but gently leaned down and kissed the scar.
Jisung:
When Jisung first met you, it was at a large event where you'd had your makeup professionally done. But, the next time he saw you, it was a late night at the convenience store where the scar from a skin graft surgery you'd had after getting a burn on one side of your face. Compared to what it could look like, it was relatively minor, but the scar was visible and you'd only just got used to doing small errands like this without covering it up.
Jisung can't lie and say it didn't catch him off guard, but it only made him more interested in you. He bought you a pudding and chatted with you, deciding not to mention anything unless you did. This surprised you because most people couldn't help but ask for the sob story of the car accident that resulted in major burns to your face.
Eventually, you did tell Jisung what happened though it took time and getting over some insecurities. But, Jisung's openness about his insecurities and your insistence that they didn't matter to him helped you come to realize how enamored he actually was with you.
Felix:
You and Felix were both very open about your insecurities and who you are. However, you could never get yourself to show your biopsy scar. The scar was small, but noticeable. So, you kept it covered. As you and Felix became more intimate, you knew he would eventually see your scar.
Felix was a sweetheart. You knew he wouldn’t care and that such a small flaw would not affect how he felt about you. Yet, still, there was a nagging worry. When Felix does see the scar and notice the way your body tenses when his eyes graze over it, he takes your hand and kisses the back of it gently.
“It looks beautiful on you,” he said, as if he were looking at you trying on a dress and not gazing at your scar. His hand brought yours to his cheek.
Seungmin:
On the outside, it wasn't obvious that you had lupus, but Seungmin had begun to notice that you never drank—not even beer or wine. He didn't mind but found it a bit curious since it was not something he was used to with people around his age. Still, he didn't ask questions. That was until he was staying the night at your apartment and caught a glimpse of the hockey stick shaped scar on the right side of your abdomen from having a kidney transplant.
His eyes widened as he began to put it all together. He didn't flip out but did ask if you were okay. After you explained, he felt better but also felt bad that you felt like you needed to hide such a major part of yourself from him. From then on, he would sometimes find himself absentmindedly running his fingers over the scar when you lie together.
Jeongin:
Jeongin knew you'd had knee surgery a few years ago after tearing your meniscus. But, he'd never seen the scar. Of course, he was never actively looking for it but realized that you never showed your knees at all. When asked about it, he could tell it was a touchy subject, but a few sweet words and reassuring touches calmed you.
Rolling up your pant leg, you showed him the scar. It was larger than most other similar scars because your injury had been extensive. The scar—at least in Jeongin's eyes—wasn't too visible, but he made sure to give you a cute peck on the nose and encourage you to wear what you wanted since surgery scars were nothing to be ashamed of.
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drpeppertummy · 2 months
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this was supposedd to just be a Tummy Comparison for leon & shel but then i realized they have arms & i got scared
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[ID: a drawing of two people standing side by side and holding hands, cropped to show just their torsos and thighs. they're shirtless but wearing pants. one is taller and thin and standing with a cane, and the other is short and chubby, with top surgery scars, an appendectomy scar, and a lot of stretch marks.]
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bellyasks · 1 month
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Love your blog!! Do you have any appendicitis prompts?
i was gonna say i dont really do medical stuff But since ive been there myself i can do a few. theyre less centered on the actual appendicitis & more centered around the various goings-on that may be involved tho
Your character has barely eaten since their surgery. They know they need to eat to get better, but it's hard to get any food in them when they're feeling so queasy and sore. Can anything, or anybody, help coax their appetite out of hiding?
Your character has been laying in bed with an upset tummy for days, but they think it's just a particularly bad stomach bug. What will finally tip them (or somebody else) off that something is really wrong?
Your character has just arrived at the hospital and needs to drink an enormous cup of dye juice so the doctors can start troubleshooting. They feel like they'll burst if they keep drinking, but they've been instructed to finish it all. Will trying to down the entire thing so quickly prove too much for their stomach?
Your character has a brand new appendectomy scar. Is it a big one or a little one? How do they feel about it? Do they see it as a blemish? Are they showing it off? Are they disappointed that it's not cooler?
Your character is trying to get dressed in real clothes for the first time since their surgery. Upon trying to get their pants on, however, they discover that their belly is still pretty puffy, and, nervous to squeeze too much themself, they ask for a helping hand in getting their pants buttoned.
Your character's tummy has been sore since surgery, and the painkillers are only helping so much. Who's more likely to be fretting about their health--them, or the person helping them recover? Is the other able to reassure the worrier that everything is fine?
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thesistersarcheron · 1 year
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Pairing: Elriel Rating: E Word Count: ~2k Tags: Kindergarten Teacher Azriel, Shibari Artist Elain, Fluff, Smut, Social Media, BDSM, Modern AU Summary: After a messy breakup with her college sweetheart, Elain retreated from her life as a social butterfly, moved home to Velaris, and started a work-from-home career as a shibari artist and a playful, kinky influencer on social media. She’s perfectly comfortable at home, using her earnings from her small online empire to build a greenhouse in her backyard and start a side-hustle as a florist.
But her little sister, Feyre, is eager to get Elain out of hiding—and to set her up with a man who she might cling to for some peace and quiet. However, there’s more than meets the eye to Feyre’s long-time friend and the local kindergarten teacher, Azriel.
And Elain knows it all too well.
Read this fic on AO3!
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Azriel was beyond fucked, actually.
Oh, but I always thought your hands were so beautiful. 
The words echoed in the suddenly empty space between his ears until his fingers clenched atop his thighs at the obvious lie in them, but the voice—
The voice— 
That was @boundinivy’s voice.
He was all too aware of his body as he schooled his expression into careful neutrality, forcing himself to remain impassive as he turned to face the newcomer at the table.
He looked to his right and found Feyre’s second-oldest sister staring back with something akin to horror on her stunning face, every intelligent thought melted from Azriel’s brain, surely dripping out of his ears and making a gory mess of the sticky booth he had been shoved into an hour ago.
Because without any warning at all, he’d somehow found himself face-to-face with the woman who had commanded his fantasies for nearly two years now.
She looked sweet, all full cheeks and wide doe eyes and a lush mouth—currently parted in a shocked O—that begged to be worshiped. He ignored the flash of Nesta’s outrage in his periphery as he took in the full, unfiltered sight of Elain Archeron staring down at his hands with a look of surprised recognition that, after fifteen years, Azriel knew all too well.
He nearly groaned as his own eyes slipped downward.
Although Bound in Ivy had never revealed her face, always framing her shots from the shoulders down, he had followed her long enough to recognize her body at a glance. 
The subtle swell of those breasts, the generous curve of the hips he dreamed of sinking his fingers and ropes into, the constellation of freckles on the back of her forearm—he knew every dip and curve like the hideous back of his own hand. Fuck him, those little dark spots on her skin had fascinated him when she posted a coy crochet tutorial last winter when she was too ill to tease any sort of sensuality for a few weeks. For months afterward, he found himself connecting those dots in his mind, calculating the distance between freckles in inches of rope.
Azriel’s cock pulsed as he watched the blush melt down to the hollow of her throat and disappear beneath the collar of her dress. He was going to hell for it, but he knew damn well knew what was beneath that frilly blue dress, too: dusky pink nipples and a golden bed of curls between her thighs and small, pale scars on her abdomen that she had once shyly admitted were from an appendectomy when she was nineteen.
He knew it because Elain Archeron was Bound in Ivy.
He caged that thought, locking it away and shoving it into the blackest, most barren recesses of his mind.
Because he knew Elain, just Elain, too, but only in the way anyone knew a second-degree connection who mostly posted photos of ferns and flowers to Instagram. He’d skimmed over her most of the time. Had relegated her to a distant, secondary role in his life—one as the sister of the painfully young student teacher Rhys had fallen for during his quarter-life crisis. He was only following her because Cassian had snatched his phone out of his hands five years ago and said he had to follow her. Nyx had come into their lives, so they were all somehow meant to belong to one big, happy family by some convoluted twist of logic. 
Still, Azriel had never paid much attention to the elusive middle Archeron sister; as beautiful as she was, as creative and kind as her online presence seemed, there had been no point in engaging with her when she lived in Summer or Spring or wherever she’d landed after college. When she finally moved to Velaris years later, Feyre had gotten weepy the one time Mor asked about her; for whatever reason, Elain hadn’t been well enough to attend their family dinners. Occasionally the dinners were taken to Elain’s little house in the suburbs, occassionally Elain joined Feyre and Rhys for a night out, but unlike Cassian, Azriel had decided to make his excuses and stay home rather than inflicting himself on a stranger in such close, intimate quarters.
So that had been that, and now the world was tilting on its axis, the sky was falling, and Azriel forced to come to terms with the fact that he was a gods-damned moron who lacked so many brain cells that he had effectively written off Elain Archeron as too gentle and too sweet and too distant to bother making nice.
“I mean—” Elain blurted into the silence that fell around them. She blinked those luminous brown eyes at him, the hand that had been reaching for the cookies returning to knot itself in the little bow tied at the waist of her dress. “I mean, oh, I just…”
A small, mindless twist of her wrist had four of her fingers bound in silk, and Azriel shifted in his seat, propping an ankle on his knee to hide the automatic way his body responded to the sight of the small slip knot she crafted from the remaining length.
“Ahem.” A glance across the table revealed Mor’s lips curling up at the corners as she looked between them, her hands fisted together and propped beneath her chin. “I didn’t think you two already knew each other.”
Nesta’s cold eyes went impossibly colder, icicles spearing into Azriel from across the sticky-topped table, but Feyre sank her teeth into her lower lip, eyebrows rising high enough to disappear beneath her messy fringe. 
Azriel opened his mouth, thinking quickly, “Just from Instagram.” 
“Oh?” Nesta asked, her suspicion softening only minutely as she turned it toward Elain.
“Yes.” Elain straightened beneath her sister’s scrutiny, freeing her hand from the knots she’d absentmindedly crafted, and reached for the cookies that Mor pushed toward her. Coolly, she selected one, seemingly shaking off her nerves along with the sprinkles she dusted off of the icing and into the little plastic dish. She ignored the mournful sound Mor made as she did. “A few weeks ago, when he posted that project his students did for their Autumn equinox party to his story? The leaves were all labeled wrong. I messaged him to let him know.”
Over Elain’s shoulders, Feyre perked up. “You never told me that.”
“It didn’t seem important,” the beautiful liar said. She nibbled the edge of the cookie, avoiding the swirl of frosting atop it, and then…
She glanced up through her lashes at Azriel. The look she gave him inquisitive, searching, and—
And done with an inviting, submissive ease that punched the breath from his lungs. 
Her gaze dipped to her waist next, and he tracked them as they ventured through the shadows beneath the table to the hands still fisted on his thighs and then back up to his eyes.
May I? she seemed to ask. 
It wasn’t his place to deny her. He reached for every inch of steel in himself, anchoring himself to the hard seat in that booth.
She was Bound in Ivy, and he was the Shadowsinger, and their shared knowledge of that fact stretched as taut as their ropes between them. It hung suspended in the air, tangled and trapped and begging for their attention.
She held his stare as she licked the crumbs from her glossy lips, a slight, nervous tremor building in her limbs as she bought them another second while their audience watched.
He became too aware of the pull of his skin over his bones. 
It wasn’t his place to deny her anything. Not his place to allow anything.
Not yet. 
He could see the game laid out for him in those brown eyes—moves and countermoves waiting on a checkered board, anticipating his next step. Preparing to choose a strategy. 
Azriel dipped his chin.
The pleased flutter of her eyelids, the deepening flush on her cheeks, the way the cookie she held crumbled between her fingers… He cataloged every bit of her reaction, committing it all to memory as Bound in Ivy smiled sweetly at him and then turned away.
Elain shrugged at her sister, a shy flick of her eyes turning that blushing, heated look to shame. “It was just a few DMs, and then we facetimed for a few minutes so I could show him which labels needed to be swapped. I didn’t realize I had, ah… fixated elsewhere during that conversation.” She lifted her own hand to the back of her neck, drawing his eyes to the smooth, silken skin of her neck. He could only imagine how soft it would be. How hard he could make that pulse race beneath his touch. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Uncurling his fingers was like bending steel, but Azriel forced his hands to relax, breathing through the stretch of his stiff joints, and lifted them above the table to brush away the small graveyard of crumbs. He felt more than saw Mor’s keen interest in the move—and carefully ignored it. “No harm, no foul.”
“I didn’t know you posted stories of class projects, Az.” Nesta’s voice was dry as the crumbs he deposited into the paper napkin he grabbed from the dispenser in the middle of the table. 
“Sometimes.” Azriel lifted a nonchalant shoulder. “But if your sister knows her flowers as well as her trees, I’ll probably need some help with the bunny project I’m planning for Nynsar this spring, actually.” His eyes cut to Elain—to the mouth that fell open in a sweet little round that tempted Azriel to take a taste of it. 
Pursuing his godson’s aunt was a bad idea. Not just bad; it was a terrible, world-endingly awful one, if he were completely honest with himself. 
But Azriel was incapable of backing down from a challenge, especially when it was presented to him tied up in pretty ropes and garnished with violets on a silver platter.
If sweet Elain Archeron wanted to play, then he would simply have to beat her at her own game.
“We’re going to be knotting up yarn for pom-pom bunnies and then topping them with felt flower crowns. I’d hate to prep any off-season flowers for them.”
“Oh, that’s perfect!” Feyre leaned around Elain, beaming at them both. “Elain loves to crochet, you know. She used to be so crafty in school, and she’s setting up a little greenhouse in her backyard now, too.”
Azriel lifted a brow in response, finally letting himself think of how creative he knew the incorrigible little rope bunny beside him could be. Of the naughty video he had watched not two hours ago after locking himself in his car to wait for Cassian. Of the rows and rows of flowerbeds and glass walls in the background of that clip while she teased her audience.
He wondered if she could still feel the slide of the rope against her skin the way he could feel it sliding through his palms as he watched her.
“It would be fun, wouldn’t it, Elain?” Feyre nudged her sister, and Az leaned back in his seat, watching as she did his work for him. “You’re still on a flex schedule, right? You could even go help Nyx’s class put them together if you have the time.”
“Yes, I could,” Elain agreed faintly. 
Her eyes shot to Azriel’s, and he smiled at her—softer this time, a true invitation. Come or don’t. Play or don’t, he hoped it said. No hard feelings.  
She let out a breath. “I’d love to help.”
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Sorry for the wait on this update, everyone! I was caught up in the Visions of You Elriel universe for a little while. As a reward for your patience (and in thanks for your kind words on the first chapter), please expect one or two more chapters of this fic this week!
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bulkyphrase · 4 months
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Steve Rogers + Hydra Trash Party: A Valentine's Day Rec List
Happy Valentine's Day! There's nothing more romantic to me than absolutely terrible things happening to my favorite fictional men, so please enjoy this list of all my Steve-centric HTP faves.
I know these are not for everyone, so this first fic is a cute story where Hydra accidentally turns themselves into cephalopods:
The Better to Hug You With by Lauralot (@lauralot89) (General Audiences | 1,740 words | No Archive Warnings Apply)
Summary: As he's stepping off the Metro, Steve catches a glimpse of waving tentacles in his peripheral vision. An octopus is wriggling onto the platform. He's entering the Triskelion when it happens again: a flash of tentacles in the corner of his eye, this time roping around a filing cabinet. Clearly Steve needs more sleep.
Everything after this is more HTP-typical non-con and violence, so proceed with caution and be sure to check the tags before reading.
[Podfic] A Hostile Work Environment read by sallysparrow017 (Explicit, 45-60 Minutes, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings)
Note: The original has been deleted but at least we still have a great podfic version of this amazing fic
Summary: Podfic of stoatsandwich's 'A Hostile Work Environment' Five times Captain America fantasized about being gang-raped by the STRIKE Team, plus one more.
Blood from a Stone by shinelikethunder (tenlittlebullets) (@shinelikethunder) (Explicit | 23,651 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: Once you passed a certain point in the hierarchy, getting ordered to do shit like lead a gangbang on Captain America was a surprise but not a shock. Fill for a hydratrashmeme prompt requesting a Hydra/Steve gangbang where Steve has been dosed with aphrodisiacs to force him to get off. Or, a trash party dumpster travesty in two acts:Act 1: Steve Rogers: World's Most Defiant Hydra Party FavorAct 2: Post-Rescue Hurt/Comfort: Now With Bonus Steve/Sam Sex Pollen Dubcon Also available as a podfic read by sallysparrow017
Catastrophe (Breeds Strength) by sock_bealady (Explicit | 21,272 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage)
Summary: Not long after the events of Iron Man 3, the Avengers are captured by what they thought were friends. Rumlow promises they won't remember a thing. Steve is starting to hope he's right.
For What it's Worth by throttlegainwell (@throttlegainwell) (Explicit | 11,654 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: When he found the safehouse, after it had been scoured for evidence, he’d personally taken it down to studs. He recognized the room from the tape. What he hadn’t recognized so far was any of the men from the tape. None of them had surfaced, none had been so involved in Project Insight that they hadn’t run for the hills when defeat was on the air. And he knew their faces. He knew them. He knew their ugly jeering voices and their obnoxious laughs and their appendectomy scars and at this point he might even recognize their dicks at a urinal. He’d know them the second he saw them. If he saw them. Part of him hoped that Bucky wouldn’t, but Bucky seemed to remember a lot more than he claimed, so it seemed a stretch too far. As he rather violently found out seven months later, on a side street in Prague at two thirty-three in the morning, it was.
Four Across by justanotherStonyfan (Explicit | 5,728 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: Written for a prompt on the Hydra Trash Meme -So say HYDRA uses the Winter Soldier to seduce people as a spy as well as to assassinate people. Some people like it vanilla, some people like to dominate him - and some people want to be dominated by him. He's conditioned to be dominant when triggered by a certain word or phrase. There's a word/phrase to turn dom!WS off too, but the character of your choice has no idea what it is. They didn't mean to trigger this aspect of the Soldier, they just happened to say the wrong thing.
Give Me Your Filth by Dira Sudis (dsudis) (@dsudis) (Explicit | 15,378 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: "I don't care," Bucky said. "I don't care which one was you and which one was someone else. You're underneath me now. It's my turn. I do things now, and you lie there and take it." This was going to hurt.
I Remembered You Were Mine by hobbitdragon (Explicit | 4,455 words | Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: Steve awakes in a strange place with a familiar face standing over him. He has no idea where he is or how he got there, but at least Bucky is with him. Also available as a podfic read by Tipsy_Kitty (@tipsyxkitty)
Man in the Box by buckybleeds (@buckybleeds) (Explicit | 29,239 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: This is the fic I've been referring to as "the horrible boxfic." Hydra wins and Steve gets put into a put into a sex vending machine in the Strike team locker room.
Mnemosyne by MilesHibernus (Explicit | 6,924 words | Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: Steve's working on dealing with a mission gone wrong when Bucky comes in from the cold.
Salt by throttlegainwell (@throttlegainwell) (Mature | 7,168 words | Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: Memory is inconvenient – for so many reasons, in so many ways. Bucky’d read the books and seen the movies and, frankly, lived the horror show. He knew the misconceptions that people so easily believed. Memories weren’t like movies; they’re not so neat, not so cleanly edited, not so purposeful. They’re just bits of collected and confusingly collated data. Attempting to get around that fact, as had so been the case for the treatment of his mind, was unnatural.
Show You How by justanotherStonyfan (Explicit | 10,567 words | Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: Written for a prompt on the Hydra Trash Meme:Rumlow and Steve have started fooling around sometime shortly before the events of CA: TWS. They've done stuff - they've probably sucked each other off, maybe some fingering, whatever - but Rumlow hasn't actually fucked Steve yet. Steve is still a virgin in the sense of not having had penetrative sex, at least with a dude. Steve is taken into custody, maybe after the bridge fight if they didn't get rescued. He gets taken to whatever horrible gang-bang cell exists in the HYDRA sub-basement with Rumlow and other random thugs. Rumlow says something with super mean fake tenderness like, hey, sorry I've kept you waiting this long to get your cherry popped, but I really wanted it to be the right moment . Which, of course, is going to be right now in front of everybody. Up to the writer if other people then get involved too. Bonus points if Steve isn't particularly naive; he knows there's stuff Rumlow isn't telling him or maybe even that he's being played in some way, but obviously doesn't know the extent of it and is enjoying the sex and the general human contact/comfort before horrible things start going down.
The Wolf by ipoiledi (@ipoiledi) (Explicit | 5,114 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence)
Summary: So it started that way: a harmless joke.
to burn your kingdom down by glorious_spoon (@glorious-spoon) (Explicit | 12,370 words | Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: The Avengers go after a Hydra splinter cell with a nasty habit of brutalizing their prisoners. Steve has some ugly history with them, and when a rescue mission gone wrong leaves him and Sam in enemy hands, the situation gets uglier still.
TsumBody to Love by buckybleeds (@buckybleeds) (Explicit | 7,067 words | Rape/Non-Con)
Summary: *handwavium* Bucky and Steve are now tsum tsums and Brock's gonna fuck 'em and they're going to be sad and squeaky about it.
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complicitsacrilege · 9 months
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Vamptember Day 1: Leather
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Happy @vamptember, y'all!
Rated: Explicit
Pairing: Devil's Minion
Tags: 5+1 Things, Trans Armand, Trans Daniel Molloy, t4t, Leather gloves, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Edging, Frottage, Humiliation kink, Exhibitionism, Open Relationships, Mildly Dubious Consent, Spanking
Summary: 5 times Daniel fantasized about Rashid’s leather gloves + 1 time Armand let him enjoy them.
Read on Ao3!
What did it matter if Daniel gave in just this once?
When the glove touched his cheek, Daniel was surprised to feel that it was warm - that Armand was warm. His stomach flipped, as he realized what that meant, but as he opened his mouth to speak, Armand’s gloved finger pressed to his lips. Don’t think about that, Daniel. No one has died in this penthouse in many years. That was not as comforting as Armand had likely intended, but Daniel wasn’t about to worry about semantics now.
But the thought that came unbidden into his mind seemed to startle them both into silence. I wish it had been me. Armand could only stare, utterly still as a statue. Why the thought had come to his mind now, Daniel wasn’t sure. He couldn’t trust Armand with his blood - not after all that had happened, let alone this whole charade to bring him here. And most of all, Daniel couldn’t trust himself not to get lost in Armand as he had once before.
With his heart racing, Daniel finally moved, wrapping his arms around Armand’s waist to pull him in closer, his familiar weight now causing an ache in Daniel’s legs already, but he didn’t care. He’d waited almost forty years for this, he wasn’t about to let Armand go again because he was too old to have a little fun.
As Armand’s finger moved slightly lower, Daniel instinctively parted his lips, and Armand slipped it inside. The taste of the soft leather was heady in his mouth and the other gloved hand had found its way to the back of his neck. He licked and sucked Armand’s finger until a second slipped inside his mouth. Their eyes locked and his cheeks blazed, but as Armand’s other hand trailed lower, Daniel didn’t protest.
He wanted this. He wanted Armand - he had for almost all of his life, even when he didn’t remember him. Daniel had always known that something big was missing, but -
“Shh,” Armand pressed a kiss to the top of Daniel’s head, voice muffled in his hair, “Don’t think about that now,” and his voice was just as warm as the glove that slipped under his shirt, tracing over the old appendectomy scar on his abdomen. Something else that Armand had missed. His fingers traced over the scar a few times, before his hand continued higher, finding the old top surgery scar and running his thumb over it reverently, as though it could tell him everything else he’d missed.
Read the rest on Ao3!
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petit-papillion · 3 months
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FP1:
Carlos returned to the track, with his team providing some extra padding for his 3 laparoscopy scars. His fuel load was kept light to ease him back into dealing with the g-forces. Hope this weekend is not too painful for you, Carlos.
Everyone and their brother drove off track (curb, gravel, grass) and complained on the radio about floor damage.
The weather was simply amazing, and the stands were packed!
Someone almost hit a pigeon, according to the commentators (I didn't see it)
Alex hit the wall, and left an entire spreadsheet of damage in his wake. The car was destroyed, but thankfully Alex was okay.
Lando had to wade through the debris field after the session was red-flagged:
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P1: NOR | P2: VER | P3: RUS
FP2:
Max started late because of floor repairs still being worked on.
Alex did not start at all, because his car had too much damage.
More off-roading, including Logan giving everyone at Williams a heart attack when he spun (no damage though).
Charles decided he needed to get the fastest lap every time he went out, and armies of tifosi worldwide got high on hopium until he too took to mowing some grass.
Several drivers griping about others being in their way on team radio.
It's reported that Williams didn't bring a spare floor to Australia. Later it is confirmed Albon's car chassis is damaged, and they will indeed only be able to drive 1 car this weekend. They make the controversial decision to have Alex Albon drive Logan Sargeant's car...
P1: LEC | P2: VER | P3: SAI
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FP3:
Aside from Charles topping the chart at the last moment, nothing exciting happened but some sassy team radio:
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P1: LEC | P2: VER | P3: SAI
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Quali High (Low?) lights:
ZHO unexpectedly broke his wing and finished last. No spare wing with the same specs means he starts from the pitlane
RIC got a lap deleted and dropped to P18 in Q1
PER finished P3 but received a 3-place grid penalty for impeding HUL. He will start from P6 now.
Charles made a very aggressive setup change and messed up his final lap, so had to settle for P5 (P4 after Checo's penalty)
P1: VER | P2: SAI | P3: PER (NOR after penalties)
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Petit's Race Notes:
Logan didn't get to start and Alex didn't score any points. 😞
Max's rear brake would not release and his tyre went poof. First DNF since Asutralia 2022.
A few laps later Lewis's car said, "A'ight. I'm out too." (appeared to be an electrical issue)
Charles was told to "Hold position" behind Carlos. Oscar was told to give back the position to Lando after undercut. Team orders = no exciting racing at the front ☹️
Sauber tried to break their own record for longest pit stop of the season with continued issues with their wheel nuts (one of them yesterday itself into the pitlane).
In Lap 57/58 Fernando Alonso braketested George Russell, who promptly locked up and list control of his car, ending up with his car on its side sideways across the track. Thankfully George was okay. Race finished under virtual safety car.
ALO got a 20-second penalty and 3 penalty points after the race, dropping him from P6 to P8.
Carlos Sainz won just 2 weeks after his appendectomy. Charles made it the first Ferrari 1-2 since Bahrain 2022. Lando was third. Yuki scored the first point for RB at P7, and both Haas cars scored points at P9 and P10.
Fastest Lap: Charles Leclerc
Driver of the Day: Carlos Sainz
Fastest Pit Stop: Red Bull/Sergio Perez (2:18)
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kylosbreedingkink · 7 months
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Zookeeper questions!
Tell me all the insider secrets about penguins (they are my favorite animal so I have to know lol)
Do you prefer working with reptiles or amphibians?
What animal do you want to see in more zoos?
What is your favorite bird to watch?
What is your favorite bird to work with?
If you could add one exhibit to your favorite zoo what would it be?
Penguins! They are bitey little shits. I have scars. They smell bad, as they are a fish eater, too. And when they fight the blood.. it's horrific. I once worked with a penguin who had her lower mandible bisected down the middle due to a fight. She coped well with it but it did not look nice. We called her shit beak as she had a shit beak. Personality wise she was actually quite nice.
I have worked with Humboldt penguins which aren't monogamous like the talks in zoos claim they are. They will for sure have a preferred mate and may stay with them year on year but male penguins will go around and fuck other female penguins. They don't care. I don't think this is what makes them nasty though that's just penguin life. I once knew a penguin that had his main girl in one burrow that he would share incubation with and then a side girl in the burrow next door who he would leave to incubate alone. But he also liked to try fuck his own father, that one.
Also preparing fish and having fish scales stuck in your hands and down your nails even somehow when you wear gloves!
I like reptiles for sure but preference is amphibians. I spent a few months when recovering from an appendectomy working in the amphib room at a zoo I used to be at. It was awesome. Mostly dart frogs but other great species like multiple newt species and things like lemur leaf frogs. Also globally amphibians are under major threat right now due to chytrid, a fungus that can kill them and is spread super easy. One of many reasons why you should always clean and disinfect your hiking boots I think, to try minimise the spread.
I would like to see more galliformes in zoos. A great group of species that can add a lot to the atmosphere of a zoo and need a lot of help for conservation.
You can never ever go wrong when watching ducks, finches, or gulls. Always something going on. At the start of the year I was at a wetland site where a bunch of ducks were trying to sleep but a gull decided to walk in the middle of all of them, waking them up. Ducks clearly unimpressed. Full clearly didn't give a fuck.
Favourite bird to work with.. difficult to answer without making it easy to be doxxed. I always get excited about partridges and railidae species though. My next job has no partridges but has 2 rail species so looking forward to that.
Idk what my favourite zoo would be. But I always said if I made my own zoo I would start with an exhibit based on the Himalaya region, with a focus on Nepal and some great conservation work going on there, to try raise funds and awareness
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typically-untypical · 2 years
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Echoes of the Past - Day 3
 Prompt: "Everybody is a book of blood; wherever we're opened, we're red."
CW: Serial Killer Logan, murder, minor gory detail
Humans were fascinating creatures, at least, Logan had always thought so. The way their bodies moved and worked, each piece factoring into another, each muscle relying on those around it. It was like having a community but all inside of one shell... one body. There was a beauty and elegance to the way a human body was designed, and he had always been fascinated by the inner workings of the body. In college he had studied anatomy, eventually going into med school just to be able to work with human bodies, but it wasn't enough. Sure, injured bodies told a story, a fascinating story, histories and tales that could be read even when the body's owner wasn't awake to tell them. For a long time, Logan ha been happy to enjoy these stories, but they became repetitive. There was so only so much information you could get doing the same thing day in and day out, only so many ways you could tell the story of an appendectomy. Logan needed more to his life, more tales, more stories.
He had always been fond of books, and even now he still enjoyed a quiet night in with a well written book.
But his favorite thing to read had always been and would always be people. He just wanted free reign to absorb more of the stories. In the hospital there were rules he had to follow, but on the streets he could consume a story to it's full extent.
Logan looked down at the corpse beneath his feet, cleaning his glasses before putting them on so that he could get a better look. Six foot one, white male, by the tone of his muscles one might think he spent a lot of time in the gym, but the truth was in his hands. He had a lot of callouses, and not the type you would get from bar bells, they were too close to his palms for that. No, Logan had read this story before, not enough to get bored with it but enough to piece together the clues. There were a few extra hints here and there, his smell for one things. Despite his cologne he had the faintest hints of salt water, and the skin around his sock line had been misted with sea water. He had worked at the docks, or possibly on a ship. Logan was inclined to vote for the latter as he had a list of local pubs written on the back of his hand. A local wouldn't need to know where the pubs were, but someone who was new to the area, someone who had come in on a ship would need to know the best places to hang out. It helped that the hand writing was different than the signature on the back of the man's credit card, the way the letter e cut into the other letters wasn't replicated in his list. So it was probably written by someone else, either a friend from the ship, or someone from the first bar he went to. Logan was beginning to construct a story and it made him just a bit giddy.
"I appreciate you letting me have a good read," He whispered to the man in front of him, kneeling down again as he began to cut open the man's stomach. 
His liver had been in great condition, but there was still a little bit of scarring that suggested alcohol usage, not too much, not enough that he would have been worried if the man were still alive, but enough to paint Logan's picture. Going out to the bar when the ship docked was probably a regular thing, he probably got so drunk that he would have to stumble home at night. Though, Logan didn't have proof for that particular piece, that was purely flavor text in his story.
"What else can you tell me?"
He couldn't spend too much longer looking over the corpse, if he got caught he wouldn't be allowed to read anymore and Logan wasn't sure if he could handle a life like that. So, he did his best to finish up his story, and once he was done, he sewed the body back up. If this man had lived he might have had a full life, might have made it to old age, maybe even eventually settle down, though Logan doubted it. From what he had read, this man hadn't been the type to want a family. He liked the adventure. It was far more likely that the occasional binge drinking would catch up to him, that he would die in a bar fight or drunk in an alley alone.
That was the story that Logan was going to tell.
He pulled the body over to the wall, leaning it against the bricks before finding a suitable bear bottle. A lot of times his stories were incomplete. He had to make inferences, tell his own stories from what he had learned, and that's exactly what Logan did with the corpse. He told a story. It took a while for him to find a beer bottle in the trash that felt right, and even longer to stage a few extra to set up his scene. Once he was done, he smiled. Finally, proper artwork for the story he wanted to tell. It was rude to hoard stories, to keep them for yourself. If he was going to get a story out of his escapades, he wanted others to be able to get a story as well. 
"I think I will name you... Sea Drunk, here a love of the sea was cut short by a love of the bottle." Logan nodded, that seemed like a very fitting name for this piece of work and the smile lit up his face. It was beginning to get late, and now that he had had his story, he could rest easy for the rest of the night. Others would find his story in the morning, and they would be able to enjoy it as well. He could share his hard work but enjoy the anonymity that came with being a ghostwriter.
Logan whistled lightly as he walked, taking off his gloves and dropping them in the sea as he walked by. In the morning the cops would find the story he left behind, and then the news would make up their version of the tale and Logan would have a whole new story to listen to. That might inspire him to try something else, different staging and different victims. It was a wonderful cycle, and he couldn't wait to see what other people did with the inspiration he left them.
Tag List: @simplestoryteller @fantasticfangirl21 @joylessnightsky @melaniidarling @tsshipmonth2020
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drpeppertummy · 9 months
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one more tiny teeny little thing + the third installment in my unintentional trilogy of Cute Tummy At Rest Needs To Be Touched
[body insecurity + reassurance, tummy rubs]
Leon sighed and leaned back against the couch, holding his arms behind his head. He was wearing a light T-shirt, and his soft tummy peeked out slightly from beneath it as he lifted his arms. Shel glanced down at it with a smile. Leon didn't have a big belly; it wasn't particularly noticeable in his work clothes, and a baggy outfit could hide it away with relative ease. It was delightfully chubby, though, plush and squishy and apt to poke out adorably over the waist of his pants. Unable to resist its allure, Shel gave the exposed bit of tummy an affectionate poke. Leon blushed, surprised, and pulled his shirt down.
"I'm sorry," chuckled Shel. "Couldn't resist."
"Well, I'm sorry for flashing you," said Leon. He was smiling, but Shel could tell he was embarrassed.
"Oh, don't be. It's a sight for sore eyes."
"Yeah, right," laughed Leon.
"Really! Honestly," said Shel. Leon gave him a skeptical look.
"My gross belly."
"Oh, don't talk about yourself like that," said Shel, waving his hand. "You got a cute belly."
"Shelly."
"Honest!"
"You think so?"
"Sure I do," said Shel. "It's soft. Soft is nice."
"Bill always hated it," said Leon, looking slightly ashamed. "Especially after having Alyssa."
"Bill was a fuckin' idiot," said Shel, waving his hand again. "Bill went and found himself the cutest little spouse this side of the Walt Whitman and didn't even appreciate him. He married a rose bush and decided he didn't like flowers. He got himself a beautiful sandwich and tried to pick off all the good stuff. I mean, Christ, you carry his fuckin' kid and he doesn't even appreciate it! The guy doesn't know shit!"
Leon looked up at Shel, his expression simultaneously sorrowful and appreciative. Shel took Leon's hands in his own, looking pointedly into his big dark eyes, and Leon felt his cheeks go pink.
"Listen, Leon," Shel said softly. "Forget Bill. Forget everything that asshole ever said to you. You're perfect, alright? This?" He gently squeezed the soft pooch under Leon's belly button, and the blush deepened. "It's cute. And all these," he went on, slipping a finger up under Leon's shirt and running it across the intricate mesh of stretch marks that covered his lower belly, "I think they're lovely. They're a beautiful part of you. Even this," he added, delicately tracing the appendectomy scar that Leon hated. "It's a map of a life lived, Leon, and still living, of course. All your marks and scars and wrinkles, all that shit. It's just seasoning."
"Seasoning," Leon repeated thoughtfully. "I guess so."
"Seasoning. And this," said Shel, patting Leon's belly and giving it a gentle squeeze, "this is the best part. Nice and soft. I mean, Christ, I wish I was soft. Bag of bones, I am." Leon laughed.
"You're pretty, Shelly," he said, and Shel smiled.
"You shoulda seen me fifteen years ago," grinned Shel. "Real prettyboy, I was. But I guess I'm doing alright for forty-two. And you're lookin' pretty damn cute at, what, forty-five?"
"Forty-six," said Leon, smiling sheepishly.
"Even better," said Shel. He wrapped his arms around Leon's waist and rested both hands on his tummy. Leon tensed up for a moment, then, finding the warm touch comforting, he relaxed against Shel with a soft sigh, extending one arm around him. They sat together, Shel enjoying the gentle rise and fall of Leon's belly under his hands, idly kneading the soft surface with his fingers. It was a pleasant sensation, and Leon found himself growing more and more relaxed.
"You're gonna knock me out doin' that," he said, laying his head against Shel's shoulder.
"You could use some knockin' out," said Shel. "When's the last time you got a full eight hours?"
"Don't ask a question you don't wanna hear the answer to."
"Mm-hm." Shel slipped his hands under Leon's shirt, gently rubbing his belly. It was warm and pillowy, and the skin was wonderfully soft. Melting in Shel's arms, Leon allowed his eyes to close, and, feeling loved--feeling lovable, even--he slowly drifted off to sleep.
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tellmewhatyouc · 2 years
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read on ao3 | warning: non-graphic mentions of various injuries
Quincy’s body told a story. The scars, the burns, the discoloration in his skin. Each and every mark was important in its own way.
Kuya knew quite a bit of Quincy’s story. Some he’d heard, some he’d seen with his own eyes... some he’d contributed to himself. But there were plenty of marks Kuya had little to no context for, either from a lack of questioning or Quincy’s reluctance to speak.
Quincy didn’t like the questions, but that didn’t stop Kuya from getting up close and personal. It wasn’t as though some light touches would ever wake Quincy, who slept like the dead.
Kuya ran his thumb over the small scar above Quincy’s collarbone. That one was his fault, when he’d gotten a little overzealous with his love bites. Quincy insisted it was nothing, but when Kuya finally convinced him to see a doctor, they found it warranted stitches.
Next, Kuya’s hand found the indent in Quincy’s shoulder, a patch of misshapen skin from when a hunter had shot him by accident. Kuya had teased him about it, saying it served him right for living in the middle of the woods, but that didn’t negate how distraught he’d been at the hospital. Quincy still had issues with his arm, even after a few years of recovery.
On the same side, he had some raised, discolored skin on the back of his hand. He wouldn’t explain it, but Kuya figured out it must’ve been from some pretty severe burns.
On the opposite side, he had a larger scar that ran from the bottom of his ribcage to his hip. Quincy had described it as a knife wound, but refused to give any further details.
Following the v-shape of his hips, he had a small, faded scar. Likely the only scar from an intentional procedure— an appendectomy. Kuya had been there before and after the surgery to ensure Quincy didn’t deny anesthesia or painkillers like the idiot he was.
Kuya frowned as he traced his finger back and forth over the scar. It seemed so out of place among the others, neat and nearly-healed. But it was the only scar that was there for good reason, that was a necessity to heal him.
Quincy’s hand grabbed Kuya’s wrist. Kuya looked up to see tired eyes staring into his own.
“I told you I don’t like that.”
Kuya cracked a smile. Yes, maybe he’d tried to experiment with Quincy’s scars as erogenous zones before, only for Quincy to slap his hands away. But that wasn’t his intention now. “I’m not fondling you, old friend. Just looking. Admiring.”
Quincy grunted, dropped his hand, and let head fall against the pillow. Either he didn’t mind it after all, or he was too tired to argue with Kuya.
Kuya’s hand reached for Quincy’s again, touching the burn marks on the back of it.
“Will you ever tell me what happened here?” he asked, brushing his fingers against Quincy’s knuckles.
“No.” Quincy’s eyes were closed again.
“Hmph.” Kuya rubbed his thumb against a groove in Quincy’s skin. “Can you… feel much sensation?”
One eye opened, for a brief moment, to look at their hands touching. “Not really.”
“Hm.” Kuya furrowed his brow. He reached for Quincy’s palm instead, where he was sure Quincy could feel it. “You really won’t tell me?”
Would it honestly change anything, whether he knew the details of Quincy’s past or not? He was curious, sure, but…
“If you tell me what happened to your eye.”
…he had secrets of his own, didn’t he?
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nonbinary-octopus · 2 years
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Hello, can you please give to me a list of every kind of soulmark you can think of?
I am compiling them for reasons which may or may not involve at least two fic ideas and a comic about soulmate universes
Also if you know of/can think of names for any of the ones I've just got a description for, I would love to hear them please!
My list so far: (under a readmore so I can edit it and also cause it's gonna be LONG)
~~~
Red string of fate: you have a red string/thread tied to you, and the other end is tied to your soulmate. Sometimes only you can see it, sometimes other people can too, depending on the world. (and sometimes people can't see their own)
First Words: the first thing your soulmate says to you is written on your skin. Sometimes it changes color when they're said
First Touch: you have a mark on your skin in the first place your soulmate touches you. Often the mark is black and becomes colorful on touch
First Touch v2: You have an outline of a shape, and your soulmate has the same shape, and when you touch for the first time both your shapes fill in, in the same color. The placement of the shape is not determined by where you touched. (I've only seen this one in @snowdice's awesome Twist Of Fate, in which the placement indicates the kind of relationship you have with your soulmate: sibling, paternal, etc)
Countdown: you have a countdown, and when it reaches 0, you meet your soulmate.
Anything you write on your skin appears on theirs. Some versions make a distinction between anything you specifically write vs any marks.
You can hear your soulmate sing
You can hear any music your soulmate is actively listening to
Compass: you have an arrow tattoo that points at your soulmate, but doesn't say how far.
You have a constantly updating tattoo saying how far away your soulmate is, but doesn't say direction. (though I suppose you could figure out the direction pretty quickly, unless the unit is pretty big, like. your soulmate is 5 miles away and that's as specific as it gets)
Name: your soulmate's name is written on you somewhere
You have a mark that changes color when you first meet your soulmate (no touching required)
First Touch, Glue edition: When you first touch your soulmate skin to skin, you are stuck together at that spot for the next 24 hours
You can feel your soulmate's pain
You can visit your soulmate in dreams, and vice versa. (I read a really good sanders sides fic with this one, and the dream location was always in water, but I don't remember enough else to find it again)
Temporary Color Touches: whenever your soulmate touches you, it leaves a colorful mark, which fades after some time. The color of the mark may or may not be specific to each person, and it may require specifically skin contact.
Scars and Flowers: wherever you have a scar, your soulmate has a floral tattoo (I've only seen this one in The Appendectomy by @not-so-innocent-bi-sander)
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beargguyf · 2 years
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messy, just trying to get ideas down, refs for my final time skip/hl2 era nick.
scars include: appendectomy scar, hysto scar, bottom surgery donor site scar, aforementioned bottom surgery, (near invisible bc of fat and hair) top surgery scars, blaster/gun shot on his bad leg, misc scars from various casual accidents (mechanical work/falling from trees as a kid/etc)
the jacket is a military surplus fishtail parka they found. its practical most weather, with a removable liners, and a removable hood. plenty of pocket space, as he is most often handed things to carry by mitch/adam. scarf is a keffiyeh from his grandparents during his "goth" phase. the most sentimental, but he has a few more. such as the typical white/black, and the tan/brown. practical to keep warm, or cool. ends up getting lent to one of his husbands or his kids on many occasions.
additional notes: wears arthritis gloves/knee brace/uses a cane on bad joint days, these are not exclusively his, mitch and adam also use them, but most of the time their bad joint days are at different times
edit: i forgot to point out his gray streak in his hair
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coachdare · 2 years
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INTRODUCING: ZELDA DARE VENTURA-WEXLER
{monica raymund, thirty-three, cis woman, she/her} || zelda dare ventura-wexler is a mutant with the ability of personal density manipulation. they’ve been in new york for fifteen years where they spend most of their time as an instructor of athletic studies at the xavier institute. when i think of them, i think of t-shirts with the sleeves cut off, pump-up jams blaring from boombox speakers, weekend calls to mom and dad, & always carrying an extra water bottle just in case. they are affiliated with the xavier institute.
BASICS.
Full Name: Zelda Dare Ventura-Wexler Nickname(s): Dare, Coach Dare, Dee, Zee/Zel Age: 33 DOB: March 31st, 1965 Zodiac Sign: Aries sun, Leo moon, Gemini ascendant Sexuality: Bisexual Traits: Obstinate, vivacious, protective, impulsive, irritable, dedicated, blunt, intense. Occupation: Director of Athletic Studies at the Xavier Institute. Family: Rafael Ventura ( father - living ), Judith Wexler ( mother - living ), XXX Ventura ( paternal half sibling(s) - living ), XXX Wexler ( maternal half sibling(s) - living ). Various other members of the commune she grew up in are also considered family, regardless of their lack of blood relation.
APPEARANCE.
Height: 5’7” Eye Color: Dark brown/black Hair Color/Style: Dark brown with honey highlights and thick waves, kept shoulder-length and worn pulled back into a simple ponytail or small messy bun on an average day. Ethnicity: Afro-Caribbean (Dominican) & White (Jewish) Nationality: American Aesthetics: Cutoffs (so many cutoffs), sunrise jogs in Central Park, power ballads and the latest hip-hop hits played back to back, the kind of adult that middle schoolers idolize. Tattoos: Several small pieces on her arms, “Cool Lisa” on the inside of her left calf, a variety of butterflies scattered seemingly at random across her body. Piercings: Just her ears. Scars: Appendectomy scar on her abdomen.
ABILITY.
what’s your mutant’s ability?
 - personal density manipulation
what’s your mutant’s classification level? 
 - beta
how old were they when they first discovered their abilities? how did it happen?
 - she was a classic case of puberty-triggered mutation; at fourteen, she attempted to jump into a lake with her friends only to float easily on the surface rather than sinking into the water.
so, what can your mutant do with their abilities?
 - Dare can reduce her body’s density significantly, allowing her to float as far off the ground as she likes. she can also increase her density, adding biomass without altering the size (volume) of her body, which has a wide range of applications. her training at the institute means she can control the density of specific limbs or areas of her body, so she can block most physical attacks both sharp and blunt by concentrating mass at the point of contact, and she can throw punches with significantly more force than the average person by increasing the density of her fists. increased density increases her strength and reduces her speed, while reduced density increases her speed and mobility while limiting her strength.
…and what can’t they do (at least, not yet)?
 - unlike Shadowcat, Dare can’t phase through solid objects since she can’t reduce her density enough to become intangible.
what’s one thing they hope to learn or are currently trying to learn with their abilities?
- she’d like to learn to phase, though the older she gets the more unlikely it seems. she’s also trying to increase her maximum density - right now she can pack about two tons of biomass into her body, but Dare is confident that with practice she can continue to push that limit upward.
what is the most powerful thing your mutant can do with their abilities? do you think they would actually do it?
 - she could literally crush someone - imagine being curbstomped by a person who weighs as much as a minivan. ouch. would she do it? not unless there was no other option. she mostly uses her abilities defensively, and while she can and will Fuck You Up, she tries to keep damage to the minimum necessary in order to protect people.
what are your mutant’s weaknesses?
 - her ability requires conscious effort and focus, so if she’s distracted she’s vulnerable. there is also an element of emotion; sufficiently strong positive emotions, like joy, can cause reduced density or make reducing her density easier, while sufficiently strong negative emotions, like fear, can increase her density or cause her to lose control of where her mass is concentrated (rendering her vulnerable to attacks she would otherwise be able to block).
do they use their abilities in their day-to-day life? in what ways?
 - she never has to ask someone taller to get things off the top shelf. since increased density increases her strength as well, she’s also a great person to ask if you need something opened or moved.
as a mutant, do they have any goals? dreams?
 - growing up in a very close-knit and supportive community, Dare was very rarely exposed to anti-mutant bias until she left California for the Xavier Institute. working there as a teacher is one of the goals she’s already achieved, but ultimately she’d like to create spaces and communities where other mutants can have the love, acceptance, and support that she had as a child. (yes, she wants mutant communes. wouldn’t you?)
how do they feel about the last 30+ years of mutant history? notably, the presidential address of 1983 and the essex house?
 - she was still in California when the presidential address aired, so she didn’t really form an opinion on it until months later after arriving at the Xavier Institute. she was optimistic at first that the publicity would have a positive result, but as time went on she realized it had almost certainly had the opposite effect. after recent events with the Brotherhood and the Essex House, Dare is starting to wonder if the Xavier Institute is doing enough to ensure the safety of other mutants.
@c23tasks @c23intros
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