Gerard Way changed my gender forever, so I made a blog about it. She/Her/28/Florida/Doctor for Computers 🩵nameless nonbinary femme entity🩵 I-know-honey on AO3. Writer of Way Laboratories & a metric ton of Nurse Gerard. Connoisseur of the tender and the comforting, very weirdly into the concept of medicine. Mostly fast reblogs and probably not a ton of tags. Medical stuff and Gerard typical creepy imagery likely, but probably nothing else particularly triggering. 🩺Blog handle to be read in the voice of a very gentle nurse comforting a patient🩺
hi welcome to my blog here there be Gerard Way & copious posting about something that might or might not be medkink depending on what angle you squint at it from. i have a brand too hard to explain but it’ll make sense if you stick around. I love you 💗
(me on a first date) and what do you think of the inherent intimacy of surgery? have you considered the love someone must have to put their hands under your skin and hold the most grotesque parts of you and put them back together nicely? is anyone really closer to you than that? we all get uh a little enamored on the surgery table don't we haha. wait come back
It’s like when your dentist is a hot woman only like 5 years older than you and you have to be Normal about someone beautiful shoving her fingers in your mouth and scolding you/praising you for your dental hygiene
Like ma’am I’m trying so so hard to be professional as a patient here but unfortunately I can only make this sound LESS sexual with effort.
I have to go for yearly heart ultrasounds cause of some prescription drugs I'm on for life.
EVERY TIME it's a (different) hot male nurse who does it, and by "it" I mean lying me on my side, smearing my chest and stomach in lube and sitting behind me, practically spooning me while he presses the probe against me.
It’s literally our moral duty to eroticize dehumanizing medical procedures.
There is a brutal and dispassionate older woman slowly pushing needles into my flesh, telling me not to move or I’ll mess up the results, and then shocking me through the needles. She’s bored, I can tell, and I’m trying so so hard to be a good subject for her, fighting against my most basic animal instincts to stay still and docile and compliant. Afterwards, she tells me I did such a good job, and the enthusiasm in her voice is almost believable.
There is a beautiful tech with the deepest eyes I’ve ever seen strapping me down onto a table, making sure I can’t turn my head even a little bit. The machine clunks and hums around me as he sends me into it, translating my body into data and form. I’m completely immobilized, which is a relief because it means I can just give up control of my body, surrender the small field of vision I have left to close my eyes, and just listen to his voice as he walks me through the steps he’s taking to see all the way into my organs.
There’s a woman roughly my age, maybe a few years younger. She’s nervous. She forgets to turn on the machine before she lubes me up, has to change gloves to turn it on and laughs, high-pitched, when I tell her if she wanted more time with my shirt off she could have just asked me to dinner. Her mentor is standing over us, quietly guiding her through the steps. He doesn’t see me, just his student and the tools and the material she’s working with. She pushes the probe up under my ribs, grinds it against the bottom of my ribcage in a flash of pain, murmurs a quiet apology in my ear. Her hands are shaking a little. I tell her she’s doing a great job; she flushes a deep red. She points out the flutter of my aortic valve with something like wonder in her voice.
And you’re telling me I’m not supposed to be into this?
lets do some medical roleplay. youre my doctor & you have to perform some minor surgery on me but this is the 18th century & theres no anaesthetic so i go into shock & die. yes of course its still sexual