#i hate my coworkers for a million different reasons

[transmascissues]

today, my coworkers’ refusal to see me as a man put one of our patients in a position where they felt unsafe for the third time. i’ve been at this job for less than two months total. i don’t even care about getting misgendered anymore, i just want the people we’re supposed to be taking care of to feel comfortable around me.

i work at a hospital where we have to supervise our patients in a lot of vulnerable situations. there are safeguarding rules in place for certain things that male employees aren’t allowed to be present for when it comes to female patients. and yet, the people training me and telling me what to do have repeatedly put me in situations where i’ve been forced to do things that the female patients aren’t comfortable with me doing. and because they have repeatedly failed to teach me the rules for doing my job as a man, i have no way of knowing when i’m crossing one of those lines unless one of the patients tells me.

i’ve had to watch a victim of SA stare at me in abject terror as my coworkers asked her to strip naked with me still in the room. it took several minutes for her to even be able to speak enough to ask if i could leave the room. i found out after that she broke down crying the moment i walked out. my biggest regret is that i didn’t realize what was happening fast enough to leave before she ever had to say something, because she shouldn’t have had to say it. i never should’ve been allowed in the room in the first place, because that’s not something male employees are supposed to be present for. but i didn’t know that yet, because i was training and i thought surely, they wouldn’t train me to do something that directly violated their own safeguarding rules. that moment was the first time, and it’s haunted me ever since, but it wasn’t the last time. not only did it happen for the third time today — it almost happened for the fourth, and would have if someone hadn’t spoken up to say they should pick someone else. i care for these people so deeply, it’s why i took this job, and i’m so tired of hearing the fear in their voices when they have to ask me not to do something i never should’ve been told to do.

i’m very used to the personal discomfort of being misgendered. i willingly deal with it a lot at work as well as in other situations, not because i’m in the closet (at this point in my medical transition that would be impossible), but because it’s such a frequent occurrence with my coworkers that we would never get anything done if i took the time to correct them every time. but to see it get to the point of causing such visceral discomfort in other people? people i’m supposed to be taking care of and keeping safe? that’s something else entirely, and i’m fucking exhausted.

and after all of that, some of them still look at me like i have two heads when they tell me what to do and i say “i can’t do that, only female employees can” because i’m learning now. clearly i’m already seen as a man by our patients, but my coworkers would still rather put them in an unsafe situation than just train me as a man.

#to be clear it’s four different things they’ve asked me to do that im not supposed to #as soon as i find out about one rule they ask me to violate a different one that i didn’t know about #i will never ever forget that girl’s face and i’ll never stop being angry for her #for all three of them but especially her #i hate my coworkers for a million different reasons #the patients are the only reason i didn’t quit this job after the first day #i just want to do right by them and sometimes it feels like i’m the only one working there who does #it kills me because the patients who know im trans have been so great about it too #most of them know nothing about trans people but they’re so willing to learn and so respectful and we’ve had such great conversations #they’re getting fucked over by someone else’s transphobia when they themselves don’t have a single transphobic bone in their bodies #i hate this place because i care about the people in it too much to stand by the way it treats them and it’s killing me #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia

[phoenixkaptain]

Gotta be honest, the idea that Luke wouldn’t send a child alone in an X-wing with only a droid for company is funny to me.

Like, we’re talking about the same Luke, right? The one who spent years bulls-eyeing womp rats and took the experience from that to then blow up the Death Star? The one who was like “This is a trap… I’m gonna walk right into it.” The one who was like “I will rescue my dear friend by waltzing in without a disguise and being as obnoxious as possible.” “How do we get out of this situation? How about we convince these small bear creatures that our droid is a god, that will probably work.” “I know Darth Vader is a murderer who murdered my Ben and is trying to murder me and all, but he is also my dad and therefore I love him.”

Luke would send a child in an X-wing without even fucking thinking about it! Do you REALLY think LUKE SKYWALKER is a reasonable human being?? Are you honestly trying to tell me that this man who has been driving the same fucking ship for like ten years would understand how dangerous it is to put an unsupervised child in a vehicle??? Do you really honestly truly think that Luke knows how to care for children????

You see, a lot of people like to portray Luke as perfect. And this is the same issue I have with people who portray Obi-Wan as perfect, or Yoda, or Mace, or literally any character in all of Star Wars because the whole point is that the are flawed human beings!

But it’s ESPECIALLY egregrious with Luke because I don’t know where any of you got this idea that Luke is a sweet summer child??? This man has a death count of over one million. This man had Seen Some Shit that it is literally impossible not to be affected by. Why do so many people assume that Luke at the end of the Trilogy is the same as Luke at the beginning of the Trilogy? He’s changed! He’s a different person! That’s what makes the Original Trilogy such a good trilogy!! It’s basic storytelling!!! A character canNOT be at the same place mentally as when they began the story, or else it’s not a good story!

But also, I hate the way this colours shipping fics with Luke. Like, listen. There is no ship where Luke should be the straightman of the relationship. Luke Skywalker just is not normal. He’s weird, he’s deranged, he’s so strange; he cannot be a straightman, it just doesn’t work. It’s so completely out of character it isn’t even funny.

The joy of shipping Luke is that every single thing that you can ship Luke with will come out the other sode looking rational.

Han Solo is a smuggler who hangs out with a Wookiee and who does extremely dangerous, stupid shit, but next to Luke?? Rational. Normal. Someone who uses their brain, Luke, take notes-

Din Djarin is a bounty hunter who decided that he would rather destroy an entire group of highly dangerous men than give up the cute kid he just found. But compared to Luke? At least he has equipment on him!

Mara Jade literally was mind-controlled by the Emperor and was Darth Vader’s coworker and was also a Jedi (something that no rational person would be honestly) and even she comes across as normal compared to Luke Skywalker.

I know this is rambly and disjointed and I know people disagree with me, but like??? Yes, I think Luke is great with kids. Yes, I think Luke is a good teacher. Yes, I think Luke is the type of person to wave goodbye as an infant flies off in his warship. I think Luke is the type of person who would throw a child into the air way too high and then catch them. Where did the idea that he’s the responsible parent come from? Luke is teaching infants how to use laser swords, do you REALLY THINK that’s what a responsible parent would do????

#luke skywalker #star wars #star wars original trilogy #the mandalorian #dinluke #hanluke #maraluke #grogu #din djarin #han solo #mara jade #i keep seeing people treat luke like he is a preschool teacher #and i also view him as a preschool teacher #but not the preschool teacher who is seventy eight and croons about how good her darlings are doing #no luke is the preschool teacher who eats sticks with his students #he is absolutely unhinged and this is just a canon fact #luke skywalker would not see anything wrong with a baby flying an x wing #it just isn’t in character for him to think that’s weird #he was going to give the baby a laser sword #do you think he would draw the line at a gun ship #the inane ramblings of a madman #ranting #long post

[laineystein]

If I may? You seem to have an incredibly rosy view of Israel and live comfortably there. And I am happy you do! I just also have seen Israelis on tumblr speak of the struggle with the rising cost of living.

This includes having to be self conscious about the price of brands to pick, and the rent of apts. (Which are pretty common things to deal with anywhere lately). I’ve also seen an Israeli blogger say that if you don’t have a background in engineering and tech, there’s not much of a future for you in Israel-or at least not one where you can live well.

On a personal level, I struggle to comprehend the idea of bomb shelters being a conscious part of every day life in so many parts of Israel. I don’t know how you guys do it, I really don’t.

I’ve been passive-aggressively criticized for having what some would deem a rosy view of life in general so I don’t know if I’m the best person to be giving you my feedback. What I can say confidently is that I have lived elsewhere and I will forever choose to live in Israel because it is the place I truly feel is home. Yes, things are expensive but they’re expensive where I lived in the diaspora as well. Homes here are not any more expensive than they were where I lived in the diaspora. Our economy is certainly curtailed to specific professions but so is every economy. Being an engineer and being in tech is also currently the most lucrative profession in the diaspora. I’m not saying that Israel doesn’t have its issues. It does and I reference them often. I’d probably talk about them more if I wasn't so used to a lot of it; I’m used to sirens and bomb shelters and tzahal and I don’t know how to explain that to someone who isn’t. It’s just always been apart of my life and it’s not going to change anytime soon so it is what it is. I also have no problem acknowledging that I grew up very privileged and still live a very privileged life so that may have something to do with my viewpoint. But here’s the thing - I just can’t live in a non-Jewish world. I can’t live my life comfortably in a non-Jewish world. And that’s not solely because of antisemitism. I keep kosher. I keep Shabbos. And nearly everyone I love (in the diaspora) is visibly Jewish. The men wear kippot and tzitzis. The women dress tznius and cover their hair. When you are this religiously observant it’s difficult to exist in a non-Jewish world. Our holidays are different and it’s not a default to have them off and not every company you work for will be fine with you taking them off - even if it’s illegal for them not to. In the US, you can’t make friends with coworkers because you can’t see them on the weekends or eat at their restaurants or in their homes. Sending your children to a Jewish school like the one I attended is like paying college tuition per child, per year; my parents paid over 100K every year sending me and my three brothers to school - the same school would be much more affordable in Israel. We’re nothing but pawns to the political system there - the right and the left both hate us. We are politically homeless and we’re too much of a minority for it to matter. So there’s a million reasons *not* to live in the diaspora as a Jew. For me, there is also a million reasons to live in Israel. The proximity to our holy sites. The weather. The fact that we have beaches and deserts and mountains and forests and rain and snow and sunshine. The diet and the healthier lifestyle. The joy. There’s so much joy here and I feel sorry for anyone that disagrees. I can be openly Jewish here. My Jewishness is not an inconvenience here. I do not have to apologize for it or hide it. And yes, I will forever feel safer here than I ever have in the US. Is Israel also an absolute dumpster fire sometimes? Of course it is. I’m not saying it’s for everyone. Living here will be a huge shock for many Jews. But for some of us, it makes sense and the pros will forever outweigh the cons.

#lainey things #ask things #israel things #my heart my home

[wjsns]

and u know what im ready to make my full statement on MENG MEI QI too. the situation is so crazy to me, basically now in 2023 some ujung wont even type out her name because 1. cheating scandal (WHERE SHE WAS THE 3RD PARTY, WASNT EVEN THE PERSON TO CHEAT ON SOMEONE) and 2. doesnt mention wjsn ever and to me that is literally HILARIOUS like, god its just soooo funny to watch everyone pile in with the loudest most popular opinion and not do personal critical thinking, or hey, maybe they did and what mmq did really WAS too much for them to still support her but in that case i raise an eyebrow because idk… a lottt of yall are the same people who will get online and write about loving evil women and letting girls be shitty etc etc and she literally gives you what you asked for on a silver PLATTER, like doing nothing cancellable just giving us a good wholesome woman being evil and selfish and obsessed w herself and everyone turns on her!!!! sorry shes not fucking chuu lmao!? (ilu chuu no hate but there is space for good AND evil girls in my heart😇) im sorry im SO unbothered by her being the other woman in a cheating scandal like i cant imagine something mattering less to me and it actually made me super happy to confirm she fucks even tho the guy was ugly😇 but i said kinda most of this already so SECOND OF ALL about her not mentioning wjsn and shit… another thing i literally have NO problem with?? again, like…… no one was more distraught than me at what happened to ot13 but these are REAL PEOOLEEEEEEEEEE?!????!??? i’ve said this before too but i think its worth mentioning, i think my perspective on WJSN has always been a certain way because i grew up playing soccer on a team of the same ~18 girls for over 8 years and im very familiar with, idk, “team dynamics” in groups of girls growing up together? so i understand what its like to be in a larger group dedicated towards this ultimate, performance based goal together and while not everyone out of those 18 girls is one-to-one best friends and lots of people have pretty significant differences, none of that matters “on the field” or when you’re “working”, and its actually lowkey beautiful hiw such different people can unite together to make their dream happen AND develop really long lasting strong relationships w each other when they would otherwise might not have. so ive never had illusions that wjsn as a group has this monolithic motivator or reason for being in wjsn or being an idol, they are all super different personalities and have different interest areas like acting, musicals, song production, MCing etc! so its really impossible for me to feel upset or bothered in any way when i hear complaints about mmq’s behavior in this area because im like ? she obviously has/had this solo career (that i have to believe she had way more control and stylistic direction over than with wjsn) in her home country where she gets to embrace her personal style and concepts instead of matching wjsns, shes clearly separating from that past image and going in a different direction w her career! it does make me bummed that shes not getting 13 stars tattooed like xiao did but again what am i gonna do, be mad that this artist who i really care abt as a person is going off on their own path and direction? cujung is a ROCK of this fanbase its not like a mmq wjsn mention is going to create millions more ujung and album sales? just never added up to me, IM not gonna feel some type of way about it because stan twit fucking tells me to, like how it feels a lot of ujungs react to everything! that one thing going around that was like “wjsn are coworkers not friends” was sooooo funny for me to watch ujung actually get mad about because like,,, they ARE coworkers? AND FRIENDS?! there are 13 of them? each person has a unique individual and complex relationship with each other person? ah idk why i even bother with these essays the avg kpop stans iq is literally 65 yall love being spoonfed parasocial relationships simulated for ur consumption so much u completely block out ​the fact they are real people

#and a lot of people who have the most to say about it like literally dont go outside and have lives and group activities to be a part of so #sorry if im being haterish but like they started it #getting mad at what mmq says and doesnt say about her old job and who she fucks is giving incel its giving i like to control women #giving the type of people who freak out and kts over their idol reading a feminist book or dating someone #sorry women are autonomous beings not morally perfect objects u can glorifyingly put on a pedestal and tear down just as maliciously when #something they did doesnt add up to this unrealistic un-human image u created of them #i honestly think some of u get more out of tearing at and hating someone than u did supporting them its like fun for u to sit behind a scree #and judge their lives meanwhile havent washed ur greasy ass hair in days and when was the last time u called ur grandmother? what the longes #lasting friendship you’ve ever been able to maintain? huh??? #damn i cant find out how to do a read more on mobile sorryyyyyyyyyy #long post #ANYWAYS *pulls out comfort photos of teen mmq smoking cigs*

[eliasbouchardslut]

not to overstep here but can I ask how ocd affects your daily life and are there things your followers can do or say or avoid doing or saying to make you most comfortable I just wanna support you the best I can

this is so so sweet genuinely. my ocd has many different ways that it manifests, some manifestations of it are occasional and some are common and some are rare, but i'm happy to tell you about the daily ones!! daily ways that i struggle with my ocd is through like when i go to work in the morning, i become convinced that i've left my front door open and my cats are going to escape. i'll check the door and confirm that it's closed and locked, but as soon as i step away from the door the panic comes back. one morning i checked the door 15 times in a row over and over because i couldn't shake the feeling. another every day fear is that when i fill meds at work that i'm making a mistake even when i know i'm not. i check and recheck my medications i fill at least 5 times, and sometimes as much as 10-15 times. thankfully, i'm really close with my coworkers and they know i have OCD, so they are more than happy to double check it for me. strangely enough, i don't trust myself, but when someone else tells me that it's okay, it calms my OCD down. my coworkers are angels when it comes to it, and they always will confirm things for me when i ask, like when i lock the door they know to say out loud that it IS locked so i don't feel the need to double check. i also have to check that i set an alarm for work at least 6 times before i can go to bed, and sometimes i'll stare at the alarm app and then close it and open it again until i get super stressed but i can't stop. my parents also know how to help me with it, and they'll announce that i did turn off the stove/burners. i also have OCD when it comes to my fingernails for some reason, and every single day i cut them super super short because it drives me insane when they're longer than stubs. i also cannot handle when things that don't belong in the recycling get put in there, which makes my life a living hell cuz my dad will throw anything and everything in the recycling bin which makes me severely uncomfortable. there's a million other ways my ocd manifests itself, but these are solely the every single day ways that it does. i also have intrusive thoughts but i don't wanna talk about that. i'm certain i'm forgetting some too. it sucks ass and it causes me so much distress. like today i posted that i hate having OCD cuz i asked my friend to double check my meds at work when she was super busy and she looked stressed but still agreed, and i got so so sad and upset with myself that i'm like this and that i'm not competent enough to just not have to check things a distressing amount of times. i'm super super sensitive when it comes to my OCD, and if anyone even says anything that sounds like i might be annoying them or inconveniencing them because of it i kinda shut down. i'm honestly not too certain what can be done to help, i've told my psychiatrist about it but she just keeps telling me that the meds i'm already on should help with the ocd which they're not. so. 🤷🏼‍♀️

#ask #anon #i appreciate you asking sweetheart

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Different First Meeting (2) Masterlist

part one

A million little suns (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan is just trying to get as far away from his home town as possible at Christmas when he gets stuck in a snow storm. He's rescued by an enigmatic stranger who take him back to his cabin in the mountains. What Dan doesn't know is that his rescuer is prolific, best-selling writer of erotica, Ricky Blitz. Will Dan end up with a porn-worthy situation all of his own? (hint: yes)

Porn with feels and some Christmas magic.

all i want for christmas (is you) (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: He finds himself huffing out a small, high-pitched laugh that he couldn’t even dream of passing off as part of his natural register. “Hah… yeah. Mhm. Nice. Morn… ing. Yup. Sure is.”

Dan’s smile falls a tiny bit, a hint of confusion flickering behind his eyes. Unfortunately, that’s an expression Phil is all too familiar with receiving.

AU where Dan is Phil's Christmas coworker crush, and awkward boys are awkward.

Beautiful Liar (ao3) - withawhimper

Summary: A devastating revelation from a cute stranger sitting in the bar where Dan is supposed to be meeting his boyfriend rocks Dan's world- but it turns out that might not be such a bad thing

bubble (ao3) - blackbirddan

Summary: (temporary roommates au, alternative meeting, 2009!phan)

Burned Into My Soul (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: "Sometimes you have to run into this head first," Dan always said. Ironically, that's exactly what he did.

Caller Unknown (ao3) - Marranje

Summary: “Well, can I scam you?”

Dan blinked.

What.

“Did you… did you just ask if you could scam me?”

“Yes. Can I scam you?” he repeated.

“… sure, you can try,” Dan replied, baffled.

or, that scam caller au nobody asked for

canon in d (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: dan goes out to a bar and a stranger buys him a drink. what happens next may surprise you! [not clickbait]

dan is not a pianist (ao3) - Marranje

Summary: How Phil went from watching the pianist and youtuber Dan from afar to being by his side through the most important moments of their lives.

december 24th: vacation getaway (ao3) - watergator

Summary: phil burns easily, but that soon proves to be not such a bad thing

Don't Hate The Piano Man (ao3) - lawgrain

Summary: Phil never responded to Dan's messaging and they never met. Instead of pursuing a vlogging channel, Dan came to hate vlogging and eventually made an anonymous piano channel. When playing at a VidCon Dan finds something interesting: Phil's Lion. Now they are thrown together because of a stuffed animal... yay

Fight or Flight - thatsmistertoyou

Summary: Dan and Phil meet on a plane to California in 2012, both travelling for very different reasons. Their paths begin to converge. 

Fix the Connection - jestbee

Summary: Dan has had a crush on the IT guy in his office for ages, not that he'll ever admit to it

Following the Fandom - ineverhadmyinternetphase

Summary: Dan and Phil are the Youtubers we know and love, except for one thing - they’ve never met. That doesn’t stop the fanbase from shipping them, though, and eventually Phil gathers up the courage to message Dan

i jump for my phone every moment it lights up (ao3) - natigail

Summary: Dan left YouTube behind to become an actor, but years later when coronavirus hits and forces him into self-imposed quarantine he rediscovers an old passion of his - AmazingPhil. He hadn't counted on becoming internet friends with him, or falling in love for that matter.

Just Making Sure - placingglaciers

Summary: In which Dan unpredictably meets his favorite radio personality, Phil, by being late for the train journey home. It is quite the encounter as they both had the worst possible day ever before meeting.

Kick Me While I'm Down (ao3) - jerseker

Summary: Dan and Phil meet in an adult kickball league. Phil is just there to make friends. Dan is - not.

Masked Intruder - botanistlester

Summary: Dan is a robber who steals valuable objects nearly every night. When he goes into a flat decorated with plants and stuffed animals, he can’t seem to keep himself away. Dan’s not used to pretty boys stealing things of his own; especially when they steal his heart.

meant for me (ao3) - graydar

Summary: Dan doesn’t believe in soulmates. Phil believes in everything. Dan is scared of everything. Phil is scared of Dan.

Moonlight and Shadows - washedoutgay

Summary: Dan meets Phil in a rather weird way, as Phil has been following Dan at nights, and when Dan decides to confront him, things get weirder still when he discovers Phil is made from moonbeams.

must love dogs (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: So, Phil is almost pressed chest to chest with a hot stranger, in the middle of the street, because their dogs got so excited to play that they tangled them up together. Just a normal Friday night.

Record Store Day (ao3) - americanphancakes

Summary: Dan’s claimed a copy of one of the RSD exclusives available at the small indie record shop that he owns, but someone else wants the same record.

snails kissing (ao3) - cloud_gays

Summary: Phil wants to be smooched and Dan wants to rescue snails.

Also called: Dan: the snail saviour; and Phil: the “maybe the real snails saved were the cuties we met along the way” guy.

Stay (ao3) - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Dan was mesmerized by the cute guy with the flowers he saw on the tube. Was it a bit much to search for him time and time again after that? maybe, but sometimes working hard for something works out in the end.

Stranger Danger (ao3) - intoapuddle

Summary: Dan thinks he's the most awkward guy on the tube until he spots a guy that seems to be in an even worse condition than himself.

The Punk and The Pianist - dxnhowell

Summary: Dan is a struggling college student whose dream is to be a pianist, but he doesn’t think it’s a “practical” job. Phil is a punk works as a bartender at a small bar. Dan decides to try playing the piano for open mic night at the bar, Phil sees him blah blah blah they fall for each other blah blah happy end.

thrill me, chill me, fulfill me (ao3) - sadlybunny

Summary: Phil is playing Rocky in an upcoming production of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and is sent to work with a choreographer for extra help on a song. A choreographer that turns out to be extremely fit, and a song that turns out to be extremely sexual.

VETSCO à gogo (ao3) - sierraadeux

Summary: The guy is just really hot, and maybe Dan’s also a bit concerned he’s going to fall with all the times he’s watched him wiggle and wobble on seemingly unsteady limbs. He never does, or at least he hasn’t yet, but Dan would like to think he’s got his back if he ever does.

or

the twitch streamer who just can't seem to get his roller skating neighbor out of his mind

With enchantment on your side (ao3) - jestbee

Summary: Dan finds photos, and then he finds the person in them

words don't come so easily (ao3) - heartsopenminds

Summary: When Dan agrees to be a celebrity guest on a reality show for artists, his only aim is to raise his profile a little and appease his agent.

That is, until he meets the artists who'll be painting his portrait, and one in particular catches his eye...

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #firstmeeting #differentfirstmeeting #differentfirstmeeting masterlist

[girlscience]

Okay. I actually decided to just try brain dumping everything as close as I could get to my unfiltered thoughts. It actually worked pretty good? It is a lot though and doesn't have great grammar or punctuation/capitalization. But I wanted it out of my brain. If you read, fair warning, I am pretty sure this is all stemming from the fact I sometimes read terf blogs because of a long list of shitty self-harmy sort of reasons. And now my brain is fucked up. I am trying to work through it all and idk heal? but it's hard and I don't know what I'm doing. So if that stuff upsets you please don't read this.

have short hair, no makeup, try to dress masculine (totally fail at that). don't look different from other people. just girl with short hair. no binder cause doesn't work and don't like the way boobs look and move smashed like that. no tape bind cause itchy and bruisey and rips skin when removed. use they/them with friends, is fine. use they/them at work, liar. make them use they/them but don't look it so they they think i'm childish. just gnc woman confused about gender. trying to escape misogyny. think masc means not woman. woman feminine. but i don't think that. think women can/should be whatever they want. just capitulating to patriarchy and misogyny and capitalism's desires.

know all this is terf stuff i have internalized. haven't looked at terf stuff in a month at least. got bored and looked the other day but left soon cause it was bad and made me angry. don't agree with what i see there. just look cause it hurts and i like hurting. now hurt every time someone says they/them. that is right and good and should hurt me. but that's wrong. shouldn't hurt. but why they/them? why not okay she/her? why abandoning women when don't even look nonbinary? sure, want different body, but no one can tell by looking and different body not actually achievable and should work to like body as is and not dissociate from it cause never going to be in different body. but also try that with boobs and now attracted to own breasts so. that is awful and not good and feels worse even.

what if no one likes me without boobs and nipples? when would ever be brave enough to get top surgery? if can hide it so easy (cause no one knows i'm gay or trans unless i say cause it's not obvious cause i don't look it and don't act like it and it's not pressing enough that i can't ignore it) then maybe it's not real. maybe i just want to be special different.

make things complicated for other people. ruin my relationships with my family for no reason. until 1900's no one got top surgery. people existed for millions of years with breasts just fine. i should be fine too. i have lived this long with them, why can't i live the rest of my life with them? female goats don't hate their teats (except maybe they do idk i can't read their minds). my cat doesn't try to be a boy (except she is spayed and never met a boy cat so might not even know boys exist and cats don't have gender like humans so pointless to theorize).

just female. learn to be okay with that and be okay with woman. except i try and i'm not. and i think that's wrong cause i have friends who are trans and i love them and believe them and don't think they should be something they aren't. but i am wrong. broke in some way. internalized things from all sides and can't decide what i am or do anything about it until i fix myself. but don't know how to fix so just suffer always. but doing anything till i figure out is bad and hurts me and other people and not a good role model. but i don't exist to be role model for others. exist for myself. but that's selfish and will never help us escape bad systems that are hurting people and the world. and i would be part of that. i would be mutilating myself. what if i regret? still just lying to coworkers. should never have put pronouns on work page. now can't take it back. don't know how. don't want to take it back but it's wrong. but i don't actually think it's wrong. but i am a woman and i should just learn to be okay with that and need to not be childish and stupid and playing pretend and delusional and and and and. just go in a circle and start all over again at the beginning. no escape just round and round.

#this feels kind of childish and very ineloquent but i don't know how to get it out any other way #i have started and deleted multiple posts trying to get this out #and as soon as i started writing it like that it just worked and dumped out #so. i'm just leaving it #i just want to go home and hide under a blanket and not do anything for the rest of the day #but i still have 3 hours at work and then i'm taking dinner to my parents tonight #i am just not feeling it today

[bunnyb34r]

So somebody new/new to the department keeps fucking up shit that for one was fine/didnt need to be touched in the first place and fucking up the order of things

So badly that [family coworker] is writing up a memo ab it (something they hate doing lmao usually they're a eh whatever person so you know its bad)

Like so clothing stacks need to be lightest to darkest front to back

They keep swapping it around for whatever reason and I know it's not a customer bc it's too neat and it's happened several days in a row in different areas but especially MINE

And several coworkers have been like "there's like no reason for any of us to go over there BECAUSE you leave it looking perfect before you leave" (which like thank you sgdgdgd) so someone keeps coming in and undoing MY work when theres a million other things that actually need done at any given point besides fucking with my stacks

And hooooly fuck I didnt even work in children's yesterday bc it was fine for once (a shock) and it looked so fucking bad today holy shit

Thank fuck I'm off tomorrow... I need my cigarettes 🚬😩

#theyre not really cigarettes thats just what i call cherry pepsi/whatever little treat has been getting me through it lately sgdgdgdg ive #considered real ones several times though #marquilla #im so tired today bc emotions and stress man but surprisingly i lost my id badge and i didnt even panic i was like whatever #sggdgd like?? why now am i chill

[yombleflobber-mobile-emporium]

Did Ray Bradbury Hate Mushrooms or Something?

Back in 1989, there aired an episode of Ray Bradbury Theater based, as they all were, on a short story by Ray Bradbury, called: "Boys! Raise Giant Mushrooms in your Cellar!" and it was a hoot. I'm not watching it again right now, so I'm just going off my memory from like three years ago. The plot follows a boy growing giant mushrooms...in his cellar. Mostly, his skeptical dad is uncomfortable with his son's increasingly creepy, often erratic behavior, and I dunno — the ending is very Ray Bradbury.

My point in all this is that there is a weirdness applied to the hobby of mycology, and it casts it in a light of, "Perhaps these mushrooms are a mind-controlling organism!" Now that I think of it, probably Ray Bradbury was not particularly unfond of mushrooms, or mushroom growing, and was in fact just weirded out by the fanatical fervor sometimes displayed by new hobbyists. The "cage-stage" of settling into a hobby, if you will.

I think that's something a lot of us can relate to; people with different interests to us tend to exhibit traits and behaviors we can't quantify or qualify, and sometimes that can be jarring. It's in seemingly every kids' show, probably in a lot of adult shows, too, and we always wind up rolling our eyes once we've seen enough episodes with the exact same plotline of, "Main character happy. New character different. Main character scared. New character cool. Main character happy."

I'm sure it's a very valuable lesson, but it reminds me uncomfortably of Mandatory Work Training. When I was in orientation at Wabash National, they had a video called Remember Charlie to instill a great sense of responsibility and safety into us all. The guy teaching the orientation curriculum made sure to let us know we would be fired on the spot if anyone started nodding off in the dim-lit room while we watched the hour-long video. He even hung out in the front and shone a flashlight on our faces to check if anyone was sleeping.

The thing I've learned about safety in the workplace, is that it isn't about the millions businesses pay every year on crappy safety videos for insurance purposes. It isn't about the amount of times your supervisor tries to let you know he's on your side — he couldn't care less if you used a noose around your neck as a harness when you're up on the ladder — and then boredly recites company policy. It all comes down to the fact that when they say it's your responsibility to be safe, they mean they have washed their hands of the whole affair; they showed you the video on how to do it right, and even if they never taught you to do it in a practical sense, they can blame you if they can prove you didn't follow the guidelines.

And then they'll put out a memo letting everyone know that donut breaks are effectively gone forever because someone almost stepped on a sprinkle and sprained their ankle. No, seriously. Someone at my workplace was walking, and saw a forklift, and was startled, so they wrote up a memo with new company policy stating that you aren't allowed to park Powered Industrial Vehicles at that corner anymore.

We have a memo up right now that we aren't supposed to have coffee makers or any other electric device in the room I work in all night. I used to have a coffee maker I would use from time to time because I didn't want to inconvenience my coworkers. My job requires someone be in this room at all times, so if I need to heat something up in the microwave, I have to make sure someone else is in here before leaving.

Now I can hear you saying that it probably could cause a short, or maybe I could start a fire accidentally, or it's just some kind of safety issue, but look me in the eye:

There is absolutely no reason for this memo. There is nothing to suggest that an electrical device (such as a coffee machine) set up in the laziest fashion, with hardly any safety precautions taken at all (except putting it upright, with enough water in the tank to do its job) would be any kind of issue. You would have to be a literal saboteur to create a safety concern of this sort.

LAPTOPS. Laptops are banned in here, based on the same memo. I know that's a security concern, but you know what kind of concern it isn't? Safety. You know what kind of a concern a coffee pot isn't? Security.

Anyway. That's pretty much all I have to say about that today. Toodles.

#Someone did blow up a microwave in here before; full disclosure #my point still stands #By the way I am growing mushrooms. Not in my cellar #hobbies #Life hacks #adulting #magazinejunkie #influencer

[embossross]

You've been too productive lately, the wait between the next chapters is going to be hard to bear ahah !

Now, what can I say, except THIS SUSPENSE 😱 ????!!!! You're spending too much time writing Rindu, you're becoming as sadistic as him.

Anyway, a little review because I'm trying to control myself for once, lol.

Firstly, I'm quite impressed that Rin makes phone calls in Yasuko's presence, bonten is so covered that he can afford it. It makes me feel a little sad for her, a million miles away from thinking that her wonderful lover is importing drugs. I still can't wait for her to learn the truth, even though I know she might suffer.

Also, I noticed that Yasuko and Reader from FHMTH both have a few daddy and mommy issues, if they didn't, would things be different ? Would Yasuko be dating older men ? And Reader... do we really need to elaborate on the fact that you have to have a little problem to fuck Hanma, no matter how hot he is ? 😅 Anyway, I'm doing counter psychology (idk if the expression exists in English) and I hate it. I was originally going to talk about the parents because Yasuko's mom seems so protective of her daughter and it's kind of fun to be able to talk about her relationship with her without judging her. I like their relationship, even if their place in the family is not very balanced.

One last question I have and then I'll stop hihi, Rindou who puts his work in the background, is Mikey going to be totally ok with that ? I mean, we know from the beginning that he's not a workaholic, but, can there be consequences ?

That's it, I'm done, I'm really really really excited and impatient for the next chapter and I wanted to tell you that after a quick calculation, this story really in my top 2, I love it so much so thanks again for sharing it with us ❤️

the way your mind works, i swear, i'm always so excited to hear your thoughts on the chapters! like you just make such good connections! and i'm so flattered that you are loving the story so much. dgm has a special place in my heart too!

i'm going to do a read more so i can give this the attention it deserves!

poor reader really has no idea about rindou’s job and is so not ready for the truth. in that scene, rindou’s not saying anything directly incriminating, she doesn’t understand shipping enough to follow, AND rindou is intentionally keeping her distracted. she never stood a chance.

also poor Doc and her mommy/daddy issues ☹ I feel so bad for her tbh. you’re so right that her issues are a key reason she’s able to be with hanma. most people would run and not look back after the eye gouging and Russian roulette incidents, but the childhood abuse Doc experienced really inoculated her against that. and her unexpected reactions are what makes hanma interested in her in the first place.

whereas with yasuko, her father is really a nonentity to her. she doesn’t have issues about him. BUT because she had to fulfill an adult role from a young age because of her family’s poverty, she feels far more mature than her age. worth considering that she’s several years older than her friends in her university program (22 while they’re 18/19) and would have been much younger than most of her coworkers at the factory, so her dating just kind of works out that way.

great question about rindou’s work ethic! Rindou cannot afford to slack off fr bc drugs are bonten’s 2nd biggest revenue stream and kokoni would be up his ass. it would probably fall to takeomi to discipline rindou if he wasn’t doing his job, as takeomi’s like bonten’s chief of staff to koko’s chief revenue officer.

mikey probably wouldn’t get involved. he’s pretty checked out at this point in the story.

but, rindou knows what he can and can’t get away with. he can reschedule a meeting with suppliers for you, but he wouldn’t be ditching, say, a meeting with mikey just because you called upset. he does his job and nothing more, and that’s good enough. it just looks like a fantasy to yasuko who comes from a working class background.

#i spent way too long thinking about this ask #wanted to treasure it 🥰🥰 #asks

[kennexara]

look, every day i see the privacy-obsessed ppl on tumblr using firefox. and every day i see my privacy-obsessed coworkers using brave.

so uh i finally did a bit more in-depth digging.

basically, yeah, firefox has its own engine instead of using chromium like brave and most of the web does. so if that’s your only deciding factor of course use firefox. and like, that is an important factor to me - i don’t want chrome/chromium to become the only option. 

but for most people there’s other factors. if you’re switching from chrome, brave won’t be as big as a change, visually/feature-wise, because it is chromium-based. again, if you don’t mind change, just go for firefox! if you need to ease into different browser and want more security (maybe not the most, but more than say fucking chrome) brave is a decent choice.

and brave is easier in other ways too. look, firefox and brave both block a ton of trackers/cookie shit automatically. and now firefox has that total cookies thing which is great. but if you want advertisements blocked by default? brave has got you. i know, i know - installing adblock extensions isn’t hard. but personally i hate having to sort through which ones are ~effective~ and ~safe~, okay. So yeah, i’m sorry, but that is a huge draw of brave for me, despite the chromium thing. and i think, personally, if you have less tech-savvy family and friends you want protected and you KNOW they’re not going to bother digging through browser settings, I think brave is better than leaving them with whatever the default is installed on their machine. 

idk. brave has some cool in theory but not great in practice things. like, because they block advertisements by default, they have this optional to enable thing where you get tokens for allowing occasional ads. these tokens are worth money you can give to sites/creators you support. great in theory - websites cost money, after all, that’s why there’s advertising in the first place. but the tokens can also be converted to cryptocurrency (maybe are by default?? idfk i’ve never enabled it) and that’s obviously not great for anyone/anything. so i like their alternative model of how to let websites make money without bombarding you with constant ads. i just hate their actual implementation of it. 

and lastly, there’s this weird speed thing. brave uses up more RAM - supposedly because it has that default advertisement blocking. (personally i’m inclined to believe anything chromium just does that on purpose to fuck with me). but because brave is blocking all advertisements - or maybe partially due to more RAM, idk - the pages do load faster. i’ve only really been using firefox on my work computer and, like, it’s not a huge difference. but it is noticeable. in this case, i think it’s worth it for not supporting chromium on at least one computer i use. but your mileage may vary. 

and there’s more differences i haven’t mentioned, because i don’t care or maybe didn’t realize their importance. this is just, like, my personal reasons for why i’m currently using both.

maybe someday i’ll get firefox setup right on my personal computer (or i get a new one and set it up on the new one, like what has happened with work). 

but in the meantime...i’ll probably keep using brave on my personal computer, since it’s already setup. i do like the interface more. i like that the new tab pages tells me the amount of time i’ve saved by letting them block advertisements by default is an entire day of my life. and that i’ve saved 21 gb of bandwidth. and blocked over 1.73 million trackers. supposedly i can get this info in a firefox privacy report too, i just haven’t tried yet.

i just...yeah, firefox is probably the better bet, in terms of security and yknow, not being fucking chromium. but if your anxiety is spiking because everyone keeps telling you firefox is the only safe bet but you don’t have the spoons to fuck around with the settings (or, like, research the extensions, bc seriously i’m not just gonna trust an internet stranger’s list of safe extensions), just download brave and know you’re better off than before, okay?

if you have the energy go for firefox. and someday, when i have the energy and/or see my coworkers ditching brave, i’ll join you. 

#ignore me #yes better privacy should trump 'this blocks ads by default' but when you're tired and only have so many spoons...do what you gotta do

[mypoisonedvine]

Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband.  you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t.  which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.  

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more.  He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue.  Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him?  A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable.  I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up.  But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman.  It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend.  Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all.  He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.  

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment.  He loved it, but he hated it, too.  

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

//

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.  

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight.  At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again.  As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation.  “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone.  But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times.  “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months.  And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that.  He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not.  This was something else entirely.  "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start.  In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what.  “And he… he knows that you… want that?  I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?”  He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way.  "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating.  It doesn't even work.  He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something.  And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal.  Do you know how often people talk about sex?  It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes.  Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night?  Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’?  Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.  

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again.  “It's been so long since somebody touched me.  I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional.  "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted.  “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me.  I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.  

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying.  “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow.  His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.  

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners.  It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head.  He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little.  And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.  

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants.  He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud.  He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation.  You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you.  Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.  

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough.  After all, you had asked him to give you everything.  So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.  You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking.  He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration.  Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle.  He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.”  Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it.  It was just too good to be true.  So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again.  Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that.  Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him?  He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it.  "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.  

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him.  It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place.  That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.”  And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on.  “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh?  You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly.  “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin.  "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly.  The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially.  Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true.  He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly.  “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally.  He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way.  so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore.  When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip.  You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh.  The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster.  He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover.  For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be.  He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it.  He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment.  Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily.  Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then.  "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come.  It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck.  His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it.  But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently.  You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.  

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.  

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.  

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest.  He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away.  When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

[literaila]

sweet sweet relief

spencer reid x reader

request: do a Reidxreader where the reader is hotch’s younger sibling? They’d be new to the bau and hotch is over protective and reluctant to let them do anything. Due to their young age they get super close to Reid, maybe fluffy or angsty? Thank you!

Warning: angsty (kinda), BAU stuff...

The first time Y/N had met the team they could barely tell the two of them were related. 

They were nothing alike. 

It wasn't even just outside appearances, they were different, in character, in shape, in every form possible. 

Aaron Hotchner was calm and quiet, he was known to be stern and sophisticated, he worked actively to stay in control. He was cautious and careful. He was the epitome of undisturbed.

Y/N Hotchner was not. 

She was feisty and stubborn, and she would rather argue with someone than submit to them, and she was lively and sarcastic and known to be impatient. 

There were barely any similarities between the two. 

But they were both smart, and they both had a mindset for justice, both believe that everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves, that everyone had a right to feel safe in their world. They both believed that by removing just a little bit of the darkness within the world, just a little bit, it would make everything brighter.

But besides that, they were two completely different people. 

It was a surprise to everyone that they were related. 

That two people so completely different could share the same DNA. 

So when Y/N walked into the conference room, a little later than Hotch had requested, all of his team members shared confused glances at the smirk Hotch had on his face, at the almost-hug he had given this girl. 

She looked far too young to be his girlfriend. 

Hotch turned around to 6 pairs of confused eyes, 6 people with questions, 6 people who looked very very intimidating to Y/N.

 She’d heard all about Aaron's team, she’d heard about the lovely technical analysis, the eldest profiler who had a kick for jokes, she’d heard about Derek, the strongest member of the team, she’d heard about Emily and her history in crime, JJ who’d been the top in her class, and the genius who was only 3 years older than her. 

She’d heard about all of them. 

That didn't mean she was any less nervous to meet them. 

And with the way they were looking at her like they already wished she was gone, her nerves shot through her body. 

She couldn't help but turn to her brother, her eyes cast downward, and hope that he knew she needed help. Hoped that he knew her just enough to know when she was nervous. 

“This is Agent Y/N Hotch. Strauss assigned her as a new addition to our team.”

There was more collective confusion around the room. 

“Hotch?” Morgan asked, Y/N looked up at him, to see him frowning at her, she wondered why he cared that much, wondered why he was bothered by her, why he looked like he could tell exactly what she was thinking.

“Yes.” she answered back quickly, and sternly, like she was telling him as a favor, “Aaron is my brother.” 

There was a gasp from across the room. 

A blonde woman, with bizarre earrings and questionable clothes, walked over to Y/N, a wide smile on her face as she looked at Hotch with hopeful eyes. 

“Sister?” she asked, almost like she was being given a gift Y/N thought. 

Hotch only nodded. 

Her smile got wider. 

She embraced Y/N, pulling her into a quick hug like they’d known each other forever. Y/N felt some nerves escape her at the hug, at least one person didn't hate her already. 

“Hotch didn't tell me he had a sister, it makes sense though, you’re so pretty.” She pulled back to smile at Y/N, she had bright energy, one that reminded Y/N of a friend back home, her smile was contagious. 

“Y/N, this is Penelope Garica, the technical analyst I told you about.” 

“It's lovely to meet you.” Y/N said laughing, as Penelope pulled her into another hug, she already had a special place in her heart for the blonde. 

“You have a sister?” Derek asked, and Y/N looked over Penelope’s shoulder to see his face much more relaxed, less threatening, she immediately placed him as the man Aaron had told her about, the strong one. 

“Yes, I do. I never told anyone for security reasons, and there's never been a need to bring it up.” Hotch looked at his little sister with pride, he was glad she was there, glad he was going to get to spend some more time with her, glad she had made it so far so early in her career. 

“Plus, he didn't want to brag.” Y/N teased, making eye contact with Derek as a way to say she didn't mean any harm, as a way to let him know she wasn't going to be a problem. 

He smiled at her. She smiled back. 

“I’m Derek Morgan.” 

After that, three other people came up to her, with warm smiles, all introducing themselves, JJ who seemed warm and paternal. Emily, who looked to Y/N like a rebel at heart, she smiled a little extra at that. And Rossi, who immediately told her she was a part of the family, “Any family member of Aaron’s is a family member of ours.” 

It felt strange to be accepted by all of them so quickly, strange to feel so comfortable so quickly. 

And then she was introduced to Spencer. 

It took her heart a moment to force her to move. 

She’d heard about Spencer, the man who was closest to her age, the smartest man Aaron had said he’d ever met, the Doctor with three PhDs. 

He was utterly attractive. 

Nerves shot up and down her body, reminding her of the fear she had prepared herself for, though this time it was a different type of fear. 

She had not prepared for soft brown eyes and messy hair. 

She had not prepared for him to be anything like he was. 

Fuck. 

He was exactly her type. 

She shyly smiled at him, and he waved, just waved, unlike the handshakes she had gotten from everyone else, something in her mind was telling her not to question it. 

With a blush on her cheeks she looked away, she looked away and reminded herself that she was there to work, that her boss was her brother, that even if she did immediately want to know everything about the doctor only ten feet away from her, that this was work. 

She stayed silent for a couple of moments. 

Her brother announced it was time to get started on the case.

***

It had taken a couple of weeks to get used to the job. 

Aaron had warned her as much. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he’d asked as soon as she’d announced she was moving out to Virginia, moving to work with the FBI. Y/N had taken it as judgment, she thought he didn't think she could do the job, didn't think she was strong enough, didn't think she was mature enough to handle the BAU. 

She’d immediately run to her own defense, “I’ve been sure for almost 3 years Aaron.” 

“No, Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. It's just… this job takes a toll on a person. Are you sure you want to do it?” 

There hadn't been a doubt in her mind, had not been a moment of hesitation, a moment of wondering if she was really strong enough, if she really dared to do what her brother did every day, there was never a question of if she thought she could do it. 

It hadn't even taken her a moment to answer yes. 

But, this time, Aaron had been right. 

Seeing dead bodies, learning about different methods of insanity, diving into the mind of people who were sadistic, not saving everyone. It was all heartbreaking. 

And exhausting. 

Y/N was starting to understand what her brother had meant, what he was thinking of when he said it took a toll on people, she was starting to wonder how he dealt with it, how he went every day being the boss and not breaking down while dealing with what they dealt with. 

She was starting to wonder how they all dealt with it. 

Most days, none of them seemed bothered, none of them seemed to mind any of it. She tried to remind herself that they had all been doing it a lot longer than she had, that they had seen everything a million times, that they had gone through the worst things she could imagine. It didn't help her feel any better. 

She wasn't going to quit though, she could feel it in her blood, in her heart, that she was doing the right thing. That this is what she was meant to do, that no matter how many people died, no matter how many terrible people there were, she was saving someone's life. 

And she was good at it. 

She kept her head held high and tried not to show any hesitancy. 

The night right after the case, one that had been particularly different from the others she’d seen, she felt practically dead on her feet. She wondered if she’d have to get used to the constant sleep deprivation. 

It was late that night when she overheard Spencer talking to JJ, who looked about five seconds away from becoming the next unsub. 

Y/N laughed behind them and wondered what he was talking about. 

In the 6 weeks she’d been there she’d gotten close to most of them, she’d learned about their lives, about the way they worked best, she learned how smart they all were, how amazed she was by them. But she hadn't gotten the chance to speak that might to Spencer. 

Maybe she didn't want to. 

Maybe she didn't want to feel herself slip under the coworker crush that she was familiar with, maybe she didn't want to learn about him, things about him that she would think about constantly, maybe she didn't want to get close to him in fear that someone might notice how taken back she was by him, maybe she didn't want her brother- and her boss -to find out about the crush she had on him. 

Maybe. 

Maybe all she wished for was some relief from the overwhelming feelings she felt for him.

She was thinking about him, thinking about ways to accidentally eavesdrop on the two of them without looking suspicious, when JJ noticed her. 

“Oh hey, Y/N” JJ looked exactly how Y/N felt. Her eyes were practically closed. 

Y/N pretended not to notice the way Spencer looked away from her. 

“Hey,” she said quietly, giving a little wave as she walked to the elevator doors. Home. That's where she wanted to be. 

“Spencer was just inviting me to a movie he recorded at his apartment that he was going to watch-” JJ said, as Spencer tried to interrupt her, she just gave him a stern look when he tried. “-but I need to get home to Henry, so maybe you could go with him instead?” 

There was a gleam in her eyes and a smirk on her mouth, if Spencer and Y/N both weren't so obvious they would’ve known what she was doing.

The team had been trying to set them up for a month. 

Y/N just stared confused, nerves running up and down her spine reminding her to breathe. She suddenly felt wide awake. 

Spencer just looked conflicted. 

��Um- yeah” he cleared his throat, running his hands over his hair and down to his neck “yeah- you could come... Yeah.” he said, moving to glare at JJ for a moment, JJ who was smiling wide, knowing that Spencer would never take back the invitation- especially not for a pretty girl. 

“Oh.” Y/N jumped in surprise, her heart was beating faster at the prospect of going with Spencer, and while she knew that he had not technically invited her, she still felt her body practically shout with excitement. “Yeah, of course, I’d love to.” she stopped for a moment trying to collect herself, trying not to look as surprised as she felt, “if it's alright with you.” 

They all stood there in the elevator, listening to the quiet hum of the machinery, two of them looking awkwardly at the ground, both of them full of nerves, one of them smiling between the two of them. 

As the elevator finally came to a stop Spencer spoke up again. 

“Yeah, if you want I could- you could just- follow me… if you want.” 

Y/N nodded quickly, not used to Spencer talking to her directly. 

JJ smiled just a little bit wider, just a little, and waved them both goodbye, turning around before saying “I’ll let you both deal with that.”. 

She couldn't wait to tell Penelope. 

And then there were two.  

Two, very socially inept, nervous, people. 

***

Spencer's apartment was just as Y/N had expected it to be, it was small and warm, and there were a million lamps all around the space. It was filled to the brim with bookshelves, at least 5 of them all around the room making it look smaller than it was. In the corner of the room there was a small couch and a tv, Y/N could see books spread all over the coffee table, and multiple mugs sitting around the room. 

It felt like his home. 

Y/N adored it. 

Though Spencer looked around nervously, his eyes uncomfortably noticing all of the things he’d forgotten to pick up, all the books he’d left out. 

“So um- this is it.” 

Y/N giggled a little at that. 

Her car ride over there had been filled with doubts and insecurities, she had noticed how distant Spencer had been with her, how little effort he had made to get to know her. Out of all of her new friends he was the least welcoming. 

She still felt drawn to him. She still felt like she needed to get to know him. 

It was the craziest feeling. 

On her way over she had decided she would get to know him, just so she could count herself as a friend, just so she could start looking past him, start looking at everyone else instead of constantly being focused on him. 

“Okay. Do you have popcorn?” Y/N said breaking the silence they had been surrounded in. 

It earned Y/N her first smile. 

She was amazed. 

She wanted to keep making him smile. 

Spencer gestured for her to follow him to the kitchen while he put a bag of something- which she assumed was popcorn as she had asked -in the microwave. It felt just a little bit more comfortable now, almost like they weren't going to have the worst time together.

“So uh- how are you um-” Spencer cleared his throat, clearly out of his bounds. “How are you enjoying the BAU? I knew that- um- when I first started I was really nervous.” 

Y/N felt a bit darker at his words. Did she tell him how she really felt, about the doubts she’d been having? Or did she lie through her teeth? Lie to the man who had given her his first smile, lie to the man who had invited her over? 

Turns out she didn't have to answer that question, as Spencer answered it for her like he did most questions. 

“Oh no. Did I- um… Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry I didn't mean-”  

“What?” she said quickly “No you didn't say anything wrong…” 

Spencer stared at her, waiting for her to continue, he felt like she had more to say. 

“It's just I… I don't know I’m just not-” she threw her hands up and sighed, surprised by her own reaction, she didn't want to throw all of her problems at Spencer, especially when it was their first time even having a full conversation out of work. 

“Is there something wrong?” he said quietly, trying to read her body language to gauge her reaction. 

“I just-” she sighed again and put her head in her hands. “I can't explain.” 

Spencer nodded. He just stared at her a little bit longer, he had read somewhere that if you leave silence between conversations, most of the time the question would be answered all on its own. 

After a couple of seconds waiting he could clearly see this wasn't the case with Y/N. 

“Okay. What if I ask questions… and you answer?” 

Y/N looked up, “like an interrogation?” 

Spencer smiled a little bit and nodded, he was glad she seemed open to the idea. 

“Okay.”. 

They spent the night like that, Spencer had learned all about Y/N just through asking questions. 

The movie was forgotten. 

Y/N had come clean about her worries, about her hesitations with their job, Spencer had practically pulled the truth out of her after seeing past all the empty answers she gave his questions. 

It was infuriating how much he could read her. 

Eventually, they had switched, and Y/N had asked the questions for a little while. 

She had learned about Spencer's mom, had learned about his love for all things sweet, had learned about his favorite books, and had learned a lot more about practically everything than she ever had in school. 

It was almost addicting. 

They switched back and forth for hours, eventually moving to the couch, asking each other questions and laughing. 

It was almost two in the morning. 

Earlier Y/N had felt like she was going to fall asleep standing. 

Now she felt wide awake. 

She thought about how the morning would turn out, how much they both needed sleep, and eventually said, “I should probably go.” 

The smile Spencer was wearing fell just a fraction of an inch, and Y/N immediately felt terrible. 

“I think we both need some sleep.,” she said, trying to communicate that she didn't actually want to go, but she definitely didn't want to fall asleep at her desk the next day. 

Spencer walked to the door and smiled. 

He smiled. 

She wondered how hard it was going to be to stay away from him now. 

***

“Aaron she was going to die!” 

“Y/N, you can't throw yourself into situations like that.” 

A year later she had no doubts about her job. 

No hesitations. 

Nothing but the need to save as many victims as possible. 

Cases in Virginia were always the most stressful, with Strauss breathing down their necks, the media wanting to know everything about the FBI that was located in the state. 

They all hated it. 

They much preferred to go out of state, somewhere with none of their families, none of their problems constantly chasing them down. It was always so much calmer when they weren't home. 

Always so much easier. 

And maybe running directly into danger wasn't the best way to relieve stress. 

Y/N knew that. 

But she also knew how scared that girl must have felt, she knew how deadly the gun in the unsubs hand was, and she knew that it was her job, not just as an FBI agent, but also as a person, to do something. To do anything to save a little girl's life. 

She wasn't going to stop to think about her own life in a moment like that. 

She had rushed into the house, rushed into the place where so many other little girls had died, rushed into the place with a man almost three times her size, a man who was holding a gun. She wasn't going to risk that little girl's life. 

And she was fine, and that little girl was alive.

To her, that was worth more than a million praises from anyone. 

It wasn't enough for Hotch though. 

The minute they had gotten back to the office, the second Y/N had tried to sit down at her desk, the minute she had tried to say anything to Spencer, that was the minute Hotch pulled her away, furious, into his office. 

She already knew she was in trouble. 

He had sat her down, he had repeated exactly what he had said when she arrived at the unsubs house, alone, he repeated his exact orders to her, repeated the orders that she had deliberately disobeyed. 

“Aaron. She needed my help!” 

“Y/N you can't risk your life! And you definitely can't ignore a direct order.” 

Both of them had scowls on their faces, and at that moment they looked exactly like siblings, looked so similar it was hard to tell them apart. 

The rest of the team was sitting in their desks, listening to them fight, pretending to be filling out late reports, but mostly listening to the two siblings fighting. 

Garcia was standing outside the door, waiting for something to happen. She didn't want anything bad to happen to her best friend. She didn't want them to fight at all. 

Spencer nervously looked from the door to his desk over and over, waiting for one of them to walk out, waiting for the yelling to continue. He knew that his girlfriend was probably freaking out internally, trying to control her anger as she had to do many times with her brother. He knew that what she needed right now wasn't a reprimand, what she needed was reassurance. He had no idea how he could get that to her. 

“Aaron. I am good at my job. I got her out of there. Safely.” Y/N said sternly, refusing to back down, even for a moment, refusing to admit that what she did was reckless, refusing to admit her life meant anything more than that little girl. 

“But at what cost Y/N? What if you had gotten hurt-” 

“I didn't.” 

“Or died? What would that mean for us?” He asked, looking at her, his eyes hard and unmoving. 

Their stubbornness was always something they had shared. 

“Aaron. I knew what I was doing. I had to save her.” 

“It was reckless Y/N.” 

“Maybe it was. Maybe, it was. But I’m fine, she's fine, we’re all fine.” she reassured him by gesturing to the door, why didn't he understand that she couldn't not go in there?

“I can't have you acting like that. I can't have you not listening to my orders.” 

“Is that what this is about? Me disobeying you?” Y/N asked in shock, shock because it almost felt like he was trying to control her, trying to show her that he was still older than her. “Because news flash Aaron, I’m not some little kid you’re in charge of anymore.” 

“I’m your boss.” 

“I had to do it!” she said finally. 

“It was stupid. It was stupid and reckless, and I have no idea what you were thinking.” His words were final and stern. His face was angry, and he was clenching his fists. It looked like he wanted to say more but Y/N wasn't going to let him. She wasn't going to let him call her names, and treat her like she wasn't an adult.

Y/N was done, she was done trying to be calm, done trying to keep all her feelings hidden deep in her chest, done trying to pretend she didn't want to throw something at him, she was done. 

“I’m not a little girl Aaron!” she yelled at him, walking away. “I can take care of myself, and I know what I’m doing. Maybe that's not good enough for you, but it's good enough for me.” 

And she threw open the door, too angry to care about Penelope who was standing shocked in front of her. She rushed to her desk and started throwing things in her bag, mumbling under her breath. 

“Y/N?” Someone said from behind her. 

She sighed. 

“What Spence?” she said quietly, feeling like giving up. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, grabbing her arm and trying to get her to look at him. If she looked at him he would know how she was actually feeling, without having to guess. 

She looked up and studied his eyes. 

“He's being ridiculous!” she whisper-yelled looking back down at her desk. “I did the right thing and I’m fine. He's just mad because I didn't listen.” 

Spencer watched her for a few moments. 

“Maybe he's right,” he said quietly, his eyes looking worried and surprised, surprised because he hadn't meant to say the words out loud. 

Y/N’s head snapped up. Her eyes looked deadly. 

“What?” she said quietly, more quietly than she had been in the past 10 minutes. 

“Y/N I just think that-” 

She cut him off. “No Spencer. You’re supposed to take my side. You’re supposed to have my back. Jesus-” she said sadly grabbing her bag from her desk and throwing it over her shoulder. “You’re my boyfriend and you’re supposed to support me.” 

“Y/N I do I just-” 

He couldn't get anything else out. 

“You’re supposed to support me,” she said desperately, giving him one last look, one filled with anger and doubt and sadness, and all the feelings she had no idea how to express, she gave him one last look and 

She walked out the door. 

***

Driving was a helpful coping mechanism. 

Driving helped Y/N ease her mind. Helped her think things through. 

She knew she shouldn't have yelled at Aaron and Spencer like that, she knew she had overreacted. And she knew that to some degree they were right. 

She hated how protective both of them were. 

She loved how protective both of them were. 

It was a difficult car ride, she was doubting herself, doubting her instincts, doubting her efficiency as an agent, doubting if her brother and boyfriend believed in her. 

She knew she overreacted. 

But Aarons words had hurt, he had insulted her, and even if he’d had reason to, it still hurt her feelings. 

Spencer was a different story. She’d automatically assumed he would agree with her, would agree that the little girl's life was worth more than any risk, would agree that Hotch was being harsh. 

She’d forgotten how angry he could get when she ran right into danger. 

She was driving and her palms were sweaty, and her stomach was being attacked by anxiety, and she had no idea how to talk to either of them. 

All she knew was that she had to. 

She had to get over her feelings, she had to think about them.

So she drove back. Slowly. As slow as she could go, but she drove back. 

When she parked her car she felt like turning around, she felt like a little kid again about to go tattle on her brother to her mom, felt like she was the victim and the abuser all at once, and felt an overwhelming amount of emotions fill her to the core. 

She walked inside. It took her a moment to remember how to get back to her desk. 

It was irresponsible for her to leave in the first place. 

When she walked through the doors of the BAU you noticed Spencer's absent desk, she noticed her other coworkers staring at her, their eyes a bit hopeful. She looked at them confused. 

“Reid went to the bathroom. Don't worry pretty girl, he didn't leave.” Morgan said, reading the question in her eyes, watching her exhale in relief. 

She smiled at him and walked towards Hotch's office. 

She had been gone almost 2 hours, and technically she knew that everyone could have leftover half an hour ago, but she also knew all of them, and she knew how late they’d stay. 

She knocked on her brother's door, regret pooling at her stomach, air filling her head. 

There was a quiet “come in” from the other side.

She peeked inside his office, saw him scribbling on a piece of paper, and as soon as he looked up Y/N felt a million times smaller. She always felt smaller when she was in trouble. Though when she looked at her brother's eyes all she could see was relief. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said, looking back down at his papers, clearing his throat, clearly a sign that she could come in. 

So she did. 

She walked over to his desk and sat in one of his empty chairs. She watched him write for a minute, thinking of something to say, thinking about all the times she’d had to apologize to him in the past. 

“Aaron.” 

“Hmm?” he said looking up at her again. 

“I’m-” she paused, paused, and took a deep breath. He deserved an apology. “I’m sorry.” 

She saw his jaw twitch, saw a flicker in his eyes, saw a drastic change in posture. 

“I know,” he said. 

She sighed in relief. She knew he wasn't mad anymore. 

“I know I overreacted. I know it was stupid what I did. I won't do it again, I just- I just had to do something. That's all.” She hoped that was a good enough explanation, hoped it would make him forgive her, hoped her mistake could cost her in the future. She looked down at her hands, not wanting to see his reaction. She hated apologizing.

“It wasn't stupid,” Hotch said, putting his pen down. She looked up at him slowly. 

“What?” 

“It wasn't stupid. I’m sorry I said that. I understand what you had to do.”

More relief, making its way up her feet, and into her stomach, relief filling her chest with cool air, seizing the fire of anxiety in her chest. Sweet, sweet relief. 

“But that doesn't mean you can ignore my orders” He added, and Y/N felt herself smile. He was teasing her, she saw a glimpse of the brother she used to- still -idolized. 

“Sir, yes sir,” she whispered, moving to stand up. She had another person to apologize to. As she walked away her brother spoke again, 

“Y/N?” she nodded, looking back at him. “Don't be too hard on him,” he said gesturing outside, where Spencer was back at his desk, staring at the bag on top of Y/N’s. 

She smiled at him and looked over at her brother. “I won't.” 

She almost walked away again “Aaron, you should go home.” he looked back up at her “go say hi to my nephew for me. “ 

And with that, she walked out the door, walked away too fast to see him smile at her. 

The relief was invading her brain, making her next decisions for her. 

She would have to thank it later. 

She walked out the door and over to Spencer's desk, Spencer who looked surprised she was actually there. 

She grabbed his arm and pulled him up. 

“Hey-” 

She kept pulling him, moving both of them into an empty storage room, while the rest of the team laughed at her antics. 

As soon as she made it into the small space with him, as soon as he looked down into her eyes, his face entirely a question, her nerves entirely seized. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Spencer frowned at her. He frowned and opened his mouth in a silent question. 

“I’m sorry for overreacting. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you. It was unfair.” She said, searching his eyes for forgiveness. 

They didn't fight often, barely fought at all, but every time they had she had always found the answer to her problem in his eyes. His eyes seemed to know everything. 

She wondered if they knew how much she loved him. 

“No, Y/N I should’ ve-” 

She pulled him into a kiss, resting her hands in his hair as he moved his to her cheeks, as she held her apart as she kissed him, her lips an entirely different apology of their own. 

Sweet sweet relief. 

When she pulled back, just enough to see his face, she watched him sigh in bliss, watched the tiny smile on his face, watched his eyes open with amazement. 

She wondered when she had last kissed him like that. 

It seemed like too long. 

She pulled him back in, giving him small pecks on his lips, and then his cheek, and then his neck. Smiling at the way he giggled when she tickled him with her hair. 

“Y/N?” he said after a moment, his voice warm. 

She looked back up at him to smile, to smile and peck his lips once more as an answer. 

“I think I’d like you to take out your anger on me just a little bit-” 

She cut him off with a kiss. 

Sweet sweet relief.

my masterlist here.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons #emily prentiss x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg blurb

[the-sea-called-history02]

I Want to See My Little Boy

(Here He Comes)

(Song isn’t related to the content of the story, it just gives Hyunjin vibes to me. Don’t ask why. It just does.)

Hwang Hyunjin x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff with a good ol’ helping of angst (very sfw in my opinion)

Word Count: 1400

Warnings: fighting, cursing, frequent implications of mental health (depression, anxiety, panic attacks, low key reader has implied abandonment issues)

      You know those days where every damn thing that can go wrong does? Why did today have to be one of those days? It wasn’t your fault everyone tried to cut you off in traffic, but your boss still yelled at you for being late. It wasn’t your fault that some clumsy idiot knocked your coffee onto the report you had been working on for weeks, but your coworkers were still furious about it. It wasn’t your fault that the one person who could make it all go away, your boyfriend, Hwang Hyunjin, was on tour with his members halfway around the world and wouldn’t be coming home for another three days, but you couldn’t help but want nothing more than for him to hold you close and tell you it would be okay.

      Of course, it wasn’t in any way his fault either. He had been so excited when the tour had been announced, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile while the memories of him excitedly bouncing around your apartment replayed in your mind.

      “I can’t wait to see all of Stay again! It’s been so long and I’m just so ready to get back on stage and I hope they like our new songs as much in concert as they did on the album and I’m so nervous that they won’t like my choreography, and…” he rambled on and on about all the things he was going to say and do in every city they visited, and watching your normally quiet, reserved boyfriend finally get to return to the job he loved so much filled your heart with absolute joy.

      “You’re coming with us, right, beautiful?” He had stopped running around and had grabbed you by the waist, the use of his favorite pet name for you sending butterflies straight to your stomach, “I mean, it’ll be a great time and we’ll finally get to travel together like we’ve always wanted to!” You wanted with your whole heart to say yes, but you knew your boss wouldn’t let you take two days off of work, much less the six months that the boys would be gone for.

      “Jinnie, I can’t. I wish I could, but I have to stay here or else I’ll risk losing my job.” You peeled your eyes away from his hopeful gaze and looked down at your feet. Both of you were wearing the matching fuzzy socks you had gotten for your one year anniversary last month.

      “What do you mean? You have to come! I need you there with me, and, besides, you hate that job. You can just come with us and find a new job when you get back.”

      “It’s not that easy, love. Trust me. I’ve been looking for a different job for months and nothing that could even remotely cover my half of the rent is available.” You could tell he was getting frustrated because his beaming smile had fallen from its place on his pretty lips. All he had wanted was to share his favorite thing with you, but your stupid job had gotten in the way again. Just like it had on his birthday and Christmas and New Year’s. He knew he shouldn’t be this mad, but he was sick of it stealing the precious moments that he had spent his whole life dreaming of sharing with the one he loved.

      “I’ve told you a million times that I’m happy to pay the full amount for rent, but fine. Stay here with your dead end job. You’d just ruin everything like you always do. I’d rather just spend the tour with the boys, anyway,” he spat, letting go of your waist and walking out of the living room and into your shared bedroom. You wanted to stop him, but you were so shocked at his words that you couldn’t have moved if you tried. He had always been so understanding of the fact that you were just doing the best you could to support him while also supporting yourself. Even if that meant that you had to miss out on a few important things to do so. Your once present smile quickly disappeared as the slightly painful memory concluded and faded off into the depths of your mind.

      You had, of course, made up before he left, and you knew he still loved you just as much as you loved him, but for some reason you were still terrified. The three days had passed like a summer storm, and here you were, nervously picking at the skin of your fingers until they bled, at the gate of the plane Hyunjin was on. Throngs of excited fans were cordoned off behind thin ropes as security separated you from them. Stay had always been super supportive of your relationship with Hyunjin, which you were beyond grateful for, but the company still didn’t want to take any chances because without you, there was no Hyunjin. Even so, here you were. Standing between several large men in suits and replaying idiotic “what if’s” in your head. What if he found someone else while he was on tour? What if he decided that you and your awful job were too much of a burden on him? What if he didn’t love you anymore?

      You were so wrapped up in your anxiety-fueled thoughts that you hardly noticed when the crowd started screaming, signaling the members’ return. You quickly snapped back into reality and straightened yourself. One by one, the boys walked out with their carry-ons, surrounded by guards who were dressed identically to the ones around you. They looked tired, but, more importantly, they looked happy. Every one of them had this glow about them as they sluggishly trudged down the ramp. A glow that only comes when someone does something they love and that makes them feel whole.

      Seven of the boys had met up at the base of the ramp, but none of them were your boy. The boy you loved so deeply, it hurt. It really hurt. Maybe that was why you were so nervous. Loving him hurt, but you knew that losing his light would plunge you into the darkest place imaginable and that wouldn’t just hurt. It would kill you. Or maybe you were just so excited to have your beloved boyfriend back, that it just felt like a panic attack. You honestly couldn’t tell, but still, you focused your eyes on the plane intensely. Just then, a tall, slender man appeared at the top of the gently sloping exit ramp and proceeded gracefully down towards his brothers.

      As he reached them, he began quickly looking around the airport lobby that they had been waiting in. You saw him ask Chan something and that Chris didn’t hesitate to point directly at the spot where you were standing, unconsciously fidgeting with your sleeves and tapping your feet. Hyunjin peeked around his leader and when his eyes met yours you could have sworn he had just seen an angel descending from the sky, the way his face lit up. He broke away from the group and started bolting towards you with the purest smile on his face. You started to panic in a different way as he approached you, seeing as he didn’t show signs of slowing down any, and you weren’t a particular fan of being trampled, but as he reached you, he picked you up and swung you around, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips.

      “I fucking missed you, beautiful,” he whispered in a voice so soft and gentle you wouldn’t have heard it unless you were the one whose lips were still softly touching his, which, thank God, you were.

      “I fucking missed you too, sweet boy,” tears threatening to spill over as you held him tightly in your arms. You realized then and there that there was no way that this man was going to just find someone else and leave you without warning. Too much love radiated from his entire being for that to ever be a possible scenario. You gratefully held him in your arms. Your little boy. Sure, he was bigger than you in pretty much every sense of the word, and there wasn’t a snowball’s chance that you were in charge in the bedroom (most of the time, but that’s a different story), but, when push comes to shove, he is, and always will be, your little boy, and you wouldn’t ever want it any other way.

Hey! So this is the first fic I’ve ever written, and I’m actually kind of proud of it. That said, if anyone has feedback, I would really appreciate it! Okay, love you!

#skz #skz hyunjin #stray kids #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #stay #lovestay #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #fluff #angst #hwang #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #skz x gn reader #hyunjin x gn reader

[hippohead]

Okay, here goes for the prompts: number 4 on friends to lovers!

I hope you're doing well :)

thank you so much! sorry it took a little while also i’m feeling a little rusty but here’s a little something-something. 

4. “you deserve better. it doesn’t have to be me, but you deserve better.”

Blaine went through a superhero phase when they were seven years old.

Kurt went along with it because he liked the capes and he thought it was cute when Blaine lifted his fist into the air and pretended to fly. The only part of it that was tedious was The Question, every day:

“What would your superpower be?”

The first time he asked it, Kurt answered honestly: “I want to be like Matilda. Move things with my mind and stuff.”

Blaine nodded and then picked super speed for himself. He ran around his backyard in loops until even Kurt felt dizzy, and they decided to just be superheroes who lay on the grass for the rest of the evening.

But then he asked it the next day, and the next, and the one after that. Over and over for almost a year. He wasn’t allowed to say the same one twice. Kurt ran out of superpowers to want.  

When he finally moved on to his next obsession, Kurt was relieved, but right now he’d give anything for Blaine to ask him that question.

He’s not sure why Blaine would, though, considering it’s been over twenty years since the last time he did and they’re both wearing suits, not capes. But he’s got a new answer.

Time travel.

In fact, he’d do just about anything to flick a switch or drive a car past 88 or hop into a telephone box and end up thirty seconds earlier, before he said The Words.

The words. The ones that weren’t meant to come out. The one’s he’d vowed to keep stuck inside of his throat, even if it made it hard to breathe sometimes.

“You deserve better. It doesn’t have to be me, but you deserve better.”

Most of the sentence was fine and allowed. Most of it.

“What- what did you say?”

Shit. “I said you deserve better.”

God, he can see a million different things on Blaine’s face right now. He’s read those lines so many times; deciphered them, understood them, figured them out. He can still see all of the lingering pain about Tom not showing up, and the anger at himself for letting that be okay, and the tiredness of fighting for a relationship that neither person really wants. He can see the comfort that Kurt’s giving him, his best friend, in this tiny little restaurant cloak room, and the confusion, too.

“Look, I know you don’t like Tom-”

“It’s your thirtieth birthday. He should be here,” and it comes out like grit in Kurt’s teeth.

Blaine doesn’t say anything. If he did, he’d have to admit that this is actually pretty low on the list of Tom let-downs. There’s been worse - this one just looks bad.

“We should get back out there,” Kurt says, just to say something. The air is starting to feel too stuffy in here. He starts to leave, aware that Blaine’s parents and their mutual friends and a couple of Blaine’s coworkers are sitting at their table, probably wondering where on earth they’d disappeared to.

"Kurt?”

He stops halfway through the door, bracing himself - there’s no way Blaine would let Kurt just breeze over a slip-up like that. It’s not the first slip-up, either. There have been others in the past, from both of them. And it always goes the same way; the one who slipped up deflects and ignores, and the one who heard the slip-up pushes a little bit, desperate to see if the other will be brave this time.

Neither of them are ever brave.  

“Yeah?” he says, resigned to the inevitable.

There’s plead in Blaine’s eyes – so much so that it makes Kurt kind of want to be brave this time, even though Blaine hasn’t questioned him yet. He’s gotten stuck, just sort of halted and trying to find the words.  

And then the soft sound of a Billy Joel song starts to play from Blaine’s pocket – his ringtone.  

Blaine holds his gaze for a second and then checks his phone, sighing, with a little puff of exasperation once he registers who’s calling. “It’s Tom.”

Kurt nods, drained of any bravery, and heads back to the table.  

- - - - -

Kurt drops Blaine home after the dinner because even after the phone call, Tom still didn’t turn up.

It’s a quiet ride. Blaine had managed to do what Blaine does best which is to put on a cheerful face and convince a room full of loved ones that he’s fine, but he doesn’t have to do that in this car. Not in Kurt’s presence.  

There’s a free spot right by Blaine’s apartment building so he pulls into it and turns the car off. It’s even more quiet now; the hum of the engine had been giving them some kind of music and it’s confronting now that it’s gone. He waits. Blaine seems settled in his seat. He’s staring at the sidewalk, curved in on himself but grounded, grounded to the space next to Kurt.  

“Are you okay?”

Blaine’s shoulders lift, “I’ve had better birthdays.”

Kurt thinks that’s all he’s going to say but then he keeps going, his tone lightening a little bit.

“Do you remember that time you paid for all of the Warblers to fly into the city to surprise me?”

Kurt laughs, melodic and sweet at the memory, “I overshot my budget a lot that year.”

“I couldn’t understand why you wanted to go to the top of the Empire State so badly on my birthday,” Blaine laughs too.  

“God, it was so stressful. Rachel was helping me co-ordinate it all but there was no service in the subway, and I had no idea if they were all in position and ready, and you were being... difficult, to say the least.”

“I wanted to go to Benny’s.”

That makes Kurt smile. It had been for Blaine’s twenty-first birthday. It was a big deal. And all Blaine wanted to do was get a milkshake from their favourite diner. Maybe share a plate of fries. Nothing big or fancy – just dinner in a place they discovered together. “If I remember correctly, I took you to Benny’s afterwards.”

“You did,” Blaine confirms. And then, with an odd mixture of wist and sadness, “I can’t believe you did all of that for me.”

“Is this your way of telling me you hate the watch?” and it’s an attempt to lighten the mood back up. He reaches for Blaine’s wrist and picks it up, admiring the new silver and ignoring the way it makes him feel to have Blaine’s skin under his palm.  

“I love the watch.”

They catch each other’s eyes and oh, here it is. He almost got away with it.  

“What did you mean tonight?”

Kurt drops his wrist.  

“When you said it didn’t have to be you, but I deserved better?”

He looks straight ahead, the heat from Blaine’s stare burning into his cheek. He doesn’t know how to tell this lie again.  

“Kurt?”

“Do you want me to be brave?” he asks, almost wanting permission to be.

Blaine nods, resolute. “I want you to be honest.”

Okay. There’s the permission. And he keeps it simple. “It doesn’t have to be me, but I want it to be.”

Blaine nods again, barely surprised. “Why didn’t you tell me this when we were seven?”

“Seven-year-olds aren’t in love yet.”

“We were.”  

And maybe they were, or maybe they fell into it somewhere along the way, but one thing is for sure.  

They definitely are now.  

Blaine looks like he wants to kiss Kurt but doesn’t, mumbles a little incoherently about needing to sort some things out first which they both know means breaking up with his useless boyfriend, and then he squeezes Kurt’s hand.  

Just as Blaine’s reaching for the door handle, Kurt can’t help but ask him something.  

“Blaine?”

“Yeah?”

“What would your superpower be?”

Blaine looks a little confused, and then the context of his old obsession sinks in and his eyes crinkle as he laughs. And once his laughter settles, he thinks about it. “Time travel.”

He means: I wish I could go back to that day in Eighth Grade when we came out to each other and explain that you were the reason I knew, or, I wish I could go back to that party we went to when we were 17 and instead of getting horrendously drunk, kiss you instead, or, I wish I could go back to that night at your first apartment in New York when we argued and hold your hand instead. And Kurt knows that’s what he means.  

“What about you?”

Kurt sets him with a look that is love, and adoration, and hope, and says, “I’m gonna go back to my original answer.”

“The Matilda thing?”

And he remembers. Of course he remembers. 

“Yeah. The Matilda thing.”

#klaine fanfic #i wrote this! #klaine #it's just short but it's something!!

[broadwayandnetflix]

Slow Down - Bill Hader x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: Fluff + 1/4 of Angst

Summary:  Hi I’ve literally been binging all of your fics and I didn’t know if you were still taking requests, but I was wondering if I could request an imagine with Bill Hader where the reader is sick and passes out at SNL and Bill helps them and takes them home

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Ahh thank you so much for your patience @bduchrnskei​ I really hope you enjoy this fic and it met your prompt expectations. I absolutely loved writing this one amongst all of my evil schoolwork, but what can you do? 

Living in a small-sized New York City apartment was not all that it’s cracked up to be. Whether it’s the heavy traffic and clutter of construction that never halts or the extreme temperatures during any season.

In this case, in particular, winter.

Or, more specifically, in this case, your heater broke, and it had become like an iceberg within your apartment space. As stated by your landlord, the repairmen were supposed to come on Saturday night, and as of right now, it was Thursday.

So bundling up had to do, in a way, you kind of missed the heater’s incessant rattling, as it had become a sort of a white noise these last few months.

You hadn’t been in New York City for very long, a little under a year, maybe? It wasn’t like you to pack up and move randomly to the Big Apple, but after clearing a spot as a new cast member with Saturday Night Live. It was most certainly a must.

Ever since you were little, you’d always had a knack for making others laugh or just getting to see someone smile. Saturday Night Live became your goal, and to secure it was like winning a million dollars. Even if it meant having to endure New York’s extreme seasonal changes.

This week was no different in the typical workflow; you were technically a new cast member. So the number of sketches you had been in was significantly limited. Still, you loved it nonetheless, with the lack of skits that you had been in lately allowed you to get to know your cast members more.

Specifically, your other recurring cast members like Nasim Pedrad and Jenny Slate, the three of you would often meet up for coffee on Sundays. Taking the time to decompress and discuss your favorite sketches of the week. It was nice to have a group of people you could relate to and find solace in, especially when the weeks became stressful or exhausting.

And oh boy, did your week’s become exhausting, especially on Saturdays. You shuddered at the thought of dress rehearsal as it stretched late into the night; losing sleep was worth the excitement.

You looked at the clock, it was nearing close to four in the morning, and you still had been awake at this point. Maybe it was the cold or the thousands of thoughts swirling through your mind, much like the snow accumulating outside.

Work was gonna be a bitch tomorrow.

You sneezed at the thought, sighed, and made sure to set your alarm before letting sleep take over.

-

You awoke with a headache and a blaring alarm that was erupting from your phone. Groaning, you shut the phone off and tried to ignore the incessant pain protruding from your forehead.

Swallowing some painkillers, you got dressed, grabbed your keys, and headed to work. Totally not picking up a coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the way.

“Why good morning Y/N!” Jenny chirped as you walked into the room, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“You sound oddly chipper, what happened?” you said as you put down your stuff, eyeing her curiously.

“She got some sleep, that’s what happened.” Nasim replied, nursing a cup of coffee in her hands, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Lucky duck,” you murmured, instinctively reaching for your coffee as well. It coated your throat nicely, you sighed in content.

Jenny only smirked before starting up another conversation with Nasim; you let your eyes wander across the room. Everyone in motion, working hard to make sure shit got done. That’s the thing about working at 30 Rock; no one ever really stopped moving.

One thing that you still had not gotten used to was Monday’s. The grueling and exhausting twenty-four hour stretch period of planning and concocting up sketches. It was a scary feeling, as if you could ever compare to everyone else.

Every now and then, a pitch you threw into the ball pit would get picked, the tiny butterflies in your stomach reminding you why you did what you did.

Your eyes landed on a particular figure as he strolled into the room. His hair beautifully tousled, eyes half-open, and shirt resting ever so comfortably upon his chest. You diverted your eyes quickly, only to feel yourself begin to sneeze.

Fuck, for the love of all that’s holy, please do not sneeze in front of Hader.... too late.

He looked up, meeting your widened eyes, and gave you a soft smile. It lingered for a bit until Andy swept up from behind and hugged him along by the arm. For a second, you could’ve sworn he was gonna look back, but Andy had appeared to say something.

“Bless you!” Nasim and Jenny said in unison.

You mouthed thanks and leaned back against the wall, replaying the scene over and over again.

“Thinking about Hader again?” Jenny asked, following your line of sight, as she nudged you in the side playfully.

“Jenny! Not too loud, he might hear you.” you frantically whispered, a stern look aglow in your eyes.

“Oh honey, it’s so obvious.” Nasim chimed in, Jenny nodding eagerly in response.

“Plus he’s too far away, you’re more than safe Y/N, I think it’s cute that you like him. All the more reason to make fun of you.” Jenny says quickly before she is shoved by Nasim.

“I’m joking! I’m joking! Okay maybe not fully joking.” Jenny yelps, giving you a wicked grin.

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes in embarrassment. It was so bad, crushing on cast members, but man, was he handsome. Although you had denied it, a lot of your favorite sketches from the past weeks always seemed to involve Hader.

It was not like it was gonna go anywhere; you two barely spoke, and plus you’d probably be a mess if you did. Every now and then, though, you’d often find Hader sitting beside you at table reads. His laugh is always so goddamn infectious, and Jenny and Nasim eyeing you playfully like schoolgirls.

God, you were a mess, and it seemed like everyone knew it. Maybe even Hader knew; let’s hope he doesn’t.

“You know Y/N, I’ve never seen Hader as shy as he is when he’s around you. I mean the man literally sniffed my hair yesterday,” you quirk a brow, “But- but with you, he’s soft” Nasim’s voice crowds your thoughts, and you instantly look up to meet her in disbelief.

“Bullshit.” you retort, trying to ignore whatever attempt she was trying to make.

“Girl, you’ve kind of got a point. He’s not as jokey as he usually is whenever he’s around you Y/N.” Jenny adds, only to be interrupted by Lorne calling for a meeting.

Ah, how could you forget? Dress Rehearsal. While these days didn’t run as long as the others, they were equally draining and stressful. The three of you walked to Lorne’s office just in time as the rest of the cast stood beside you.

You felt yourself to begin to shiver unexpectedly, hugging yourself tightly. Since when was 30 Rock so cold? You felt Nasim look at you questioningly, and you shrugged her off.

Lorne had discussed the skits’ arrangements for the day, murmurs of excitement beginning to spread like wildfire around the room. Everyone just itches to get out and see if their sketch would succeed or bomb.

You took your seat in the audience as the sketches would come and go, meeting your cues whenever necessary. At the same time, your painkillers had seemed to wear off as your headache only seemed to get worse.

You made your way backstage to find the building’s first aid kit, only to brush past another coworker. That just so happened to be Bill Hader.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out, slowly clamping it shut; his eyes met yours in slight confusion before softening slightly.

“Woah, hey Y/N, everything okay? You were in kind of a hurry there.” he asks; you could barely meet his eyes as they searched yours for any sort of response.

“Oh,” you gulped, “Yeah I just have this crazy headache, um I was just looking for the first aid kit.” you say, shifting the balance on your one foot to the other. 

His eyes widened before nodding quickly as if he was just reminded of something. The butterflies in your stomach crescendo as he quickly rested his palm upon your shoulder. You didn’t even know how to act, your body practically freezing at the contact.

“Actually to save you the trouble I have some painkillers upstairs in my dressing room. Not that I have like tons of drugs, but it’s no problem with me if that’ll help your headache.”

You quickly nod in response, trying to hide back a small smile before following him up several flights of stairs. God, you hated being so shy around Bill; it wasn’t like he was some mean old jerk; he was oh so genuine and thoughtful.

The two of you halt at a labeled Hader door; he looks back at you almost to check if you’re still there. Opening the door, he led you in, giving you a quick smirk, before crouching down and digging through the contents of his bag.

You had realized that this was the first time that you had ever been in a specific cast member’s dressing room. In particular, Hader’s room was neat and tidy, but you could see bits and pieces of his character sticking out. You couldn’t help but smile at it all, so caught up in the intricate details you didn’t even notice him get back up.

“Y/N, you good?” he asks; you focus your attention back on him quickly.

His hands outstretched, one holding a bottle of Advil and the other clamped tightly around a water bottle.

“Oh, um yeah. Thank you so much you have no idea how much I appreciate you for doing this.” you say rather quickly, but Hader doesn’t seem phased by your awkward nature.

You reach for the bottle and water, fingers gently brushing against his. The two of you looking down at the contact before parting ways.

Hader clears his throat, and you feel your stomach begin to tighten. Slipping two pills into your mouth, you unscrew the cap and down it carefully.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” he asks while placing the pill bottle back within his bag.

“A little I guess, I mean I tend to get nerves closer to the show. I’m sure at this point though, you’ve become an expert at staying calm.” you reply, his gaze falling towards the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m a wreck Y/N. This show is so stressful it eats at me every week, no matter what. I mean, clearly I’m doing something right and Lorne’s not gonna fire me, but, my anxiety gets so bad.” he says quickly. His eyes widened, and his posture became slightly tenser than before.

You couldn’t help but soften your gaze; you had no idea that he even went through this every week. Even now, with the buzzing tension in the air for tomorrow night, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through. Let alone the fact that he made the time to help you out.

“I wouldn’t have ever noticed,” he looks back up at you. “I mean, you’ve always just looked so...confident. I just can’t even begin to imagine what’s that like, every week constantly. I’m so sorry you have to go through that.” you quietly admit.

He shakes his head quickly, putting out a hand almost as if he was trying to stop you.

“No, no, it’s fine. Thank you though, it’s awfully sweet to hear that. Especially from someone like you.” Hader’s eyes filled with such warmth.

Was Hader blushing? Or were you losing it? Probably losing it.

“Oh about that headache, everything okay up in there?” he murmurs, stepping just a tad bit closer to you.

“It’s probably nothing, but I do appreciate the help.” you look back at the door, “We should probably get back? Right? Don’t wanna miss our dress.” you say quickly.

Hader nods within an instant, eyes widening at the realization of how long you two had been gone for. He led you to the door, giving you a quick smile before he ran out, murmuring something about a skit that had something to do with the guest host.

You giggle softly, heaving a contented sigh. It definitely was gonna be a long day, and you could’ve sworn that the temperature had just dropped.

Strange.

-

You couldn’t have stumbled into it until at least one in the morning, but sleep had been desperately calling your name. Oh, how you missed having a regular sleep schedule; it would make mornings less of a struggle.

Except this morning was different, or more so than you were used to. The headache that had arrived less than twenty-four hours earlier was now ten times worse. Your body ached, and you couldn’t decipher if the bed was too hot or too cold.

This was torture, and quite possibly the flu, not to mention, you had the show tonight, shit. You practically sprang upwards before feeling the instant aftermath of that decision settling in. It felt absolutely criminal to leave those sheets as you groaned and grimaced your way towards your kitchen cabinet. Eyes barely opened while you blindly searched for the thermometer you had kept.

One quick temperature check later, you were running a low-grade fever. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I mean, you couldn’t miss the show, right? It just didn’t seem plausible, or maybe it did?

You frantically wondered while your fingers grazed over the Google search bar whether going to work with a low-grade fever would be beneficial?

Every answer didn’t really seem to fit the unrealistic expectations that you had set for yourself. Still, one disgusting shot of Dayquil later, you were out the door.

The day went by in a haze, and the headache never really did seem to falter. It was almost like yesterday in a sense, but seeing Hader waltz into the room made you smile. He smiled back.

Of course, Jenny and Nasim knew something was up; they always did. It wasn’t like Lorne was gonna fire you for missing one show; it was the flu. Except, you had made it this far, how bad could it possibly go?

-

The lights were too bright, far too bright for you to even think properly, and your fever was sure burning up. Or maybe it wasn’t, you always had to ask others around for that sorta assistance. Except, this was the primary night of the week and you weren’t gonna ask a cast member to feel your forehead.

Imagine if Hader did, Y/N, please stop being a dork.

You found solace in a large water bottle, but it didn’t do much to help the way your body ached miserably. You looked like a mess, you felt like a mess, but this was the big leagues.

The last time you had checked, the previous performance of the musical guest had been underway. Which meant you had survived, but the exhaustion that had been ever-growing was begging for you to lay down.

The floor looked so good right now, yeah, just for a hot second, ugh why is everything burning up?

Slowly closing your eyes, you let yourself press up against the wall, except there wasn’t a wall right there, and down you went with a thud.

-

Bill had been anxious all night, of course for the show, but for you in particular. You usually always looked so put-together, but tonight something about you was just off. It was beginning to rub him the wrong way.

“Andy, do you notice anything strange about, um, Y/N over there?” he said, trying to muffle the concerned edge that rested within his voice.

“Y/N? Oh that new cast member you like?” Andy replied without much thought, earning a stern look from Hader.

“She’ll hear you, god man you sure can be loud. Whatever, she just looks kind of off man, I’m a little nervous for her.”

Andy’s gaze softened just a tad until something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

“I mean normally I would say that she looks fine and you’re just crushing, but I don’t think that is normal.” Bill’s gaze instantly locked onto the same thing, which was you fainting onto the floor.

His body going rigid before ultimately bolting upright, he wasn’t gonna catch you in time. Still, he definitely was gonna help if he could. Although he most definitely wasn’t the only one, other stray coworkers who happened to be backstage stood, jaws dropped.

There you went, tumbling to the ground, and Bill couldn’t help but feel his heart drop. Maybe that headache was worse than you had let up. He felt guilty for not speaking up sooner, but there was nothing he could do now.

They called a medic on the site, trying to keep it discreet as possible. It was a live show; he didn’t think it would be professional if broadcasted that shit.

He tried to fill in all of the details of how you had been acting the past few hours. It felt like he couldn’t do much to help, but he didn’t wanna leave your sight. It was odd; something about you really drew him in, leaving him reaching for more.

Plus, at this point, the last thing he had to do was go on stage while they rolled the credits. Bill was optimistic that this would count as a good reason.

He watched anxiously while the medic’s placed you upon a stretcher, his feet following without much thought. They wheeled you out to a waiting ambulance; he gulped at the thought of you having to be taken to the hospital.

Surprisingly they allowed him inside the ambulance; he was so convinced he’d be forced to wait until god knows how long. The vehicle provided seats off the side, allowing him to catch his breath and try not to worry about his current state.

That is until he saw you looking back groggily at him; now, this was definitely normal, as the medic had explained. He just didn’t see it coming; you blinked a few times, looking around at your surroundings.

-

“Hey, saw you took a little snooze there.” he teased, his gaze never leaving yours.

The ambulance rattled slightly, and you gasped a little before focusing your attention back onto him.

“Is this an ambulance? What happened?” you sat upright, feeling ten times worse, trying to piece together precisely why you and Bill Hader, of all people, were in the ambulance?

“Y/N, you fainted. The doctor’s said you’re burning up, they’re taking you to the ER.” he explained carefully, as you groaned in frustration.

He cocked his head slightly, clearly not expecting that response.

“About that, yeah I think I have the flu, I had a low-grade fever this morning.” you admitted sheepishly, not even daring to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry what?” he exclaimed, his eyes as wide as literal saucers. “Lemme get this straight, you went to work, with the flu?” you nodded, and he ran his hands over his face.

“Listen, I didn’t wanna disappoint Lorne. I mean it’s the night of all nights.” the words came out softer than you had intended; Hader practically melted.

“Oh, did you really think that Lorne’s gonna get pissed at you for having the flu? Oh sweetie, you know your health comes first right?” his words falling ever so sweetly off his lips.

You could barely look at the man, let alone control the multitude of butterflies that jolted in your already queasy stomach. Not to mention that he even thought to tag along, you nodded, not saying a word, focusing on his blue eyes like they were a safety net. Until you closed them, letting sleep overtake you.

-

You awoke once more to the sounds of machines beeping, people going from room to room, and an incessant tapping of one’s shoe.

This was most definitely the emergency room, your eyes scanning its surroundings until they landed on one person in particular. He looked exhausted, more so than you did, and you felt awful given the time it was at night. In fact, it was practically morning.

“You’re still here,” he sat upright, rubbing his eyes, “Thanks for sticking it out, Bill.” you tried to give him the most genuine smile you could possibly muster.

“Of course, I mean I overheard the doctor anyway. You’re cleared to go when you wake up, and definitely have to get some rest. I already spoke to Lorne.” you gaped, but he only stood up.

“Bill, what did he say?” you whisper.

“That you should listen to the doctor, and me.” you raised a brow. “Okay maybe he didn’t say me, but you get the point?” he exclaimed as he helped you get out of the bed.

The two of you walking towards the desk in which you had to sign out some papers, the pen unsteadily perched upon your fingers. Bill’s hand holding securely upon your back, in hopes you wouldn’t stumble. In reality, just being near him set your heart aflutter.

“Now I’m taking you home, but first I was thinking I could get you some soup for home. That sound good?” you could only look at the man in pure awe.

“You don’t have to do this Bill, really, I mean you’ve already done enough.” you gulped, only to see the man give you a smirk, his eyes glinting at you mischievously.

“Soup it is.” his hand clamping against yours, he led you out of the hospital and into the cold streets of New York City.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the little soup shop he’d been talking about; it was cozy and apparently open twenty-four seven. Against his offer, you paid for two soups that looked the most delicious and cupped the cups while strolling back to your place.

“How do you think you got the flu?” he asked gently, looking at you with curiosity.

You had to try not to laugh; I mean, at this point, it was your fault, you subjected yourself to the tundra in your bedroom for the past few nights.

“Well, my heater has been broken for the past few nights. I assume that’s how I got it.” a smile aglow upon your face, giggling at Hader’s shocked expression.

“It better be fixed tonight when we get to your apartment complex. That’s ridiculous, Y/N.” you kept giggling, and soon he joined in with that gorgeous laugh of his.

You enjoyed your time with Hader even though internally you felt like shit; he made it so much more bearable. The air was light between the two of you, he made it easy to open up, and you wanted to know so much about him.

God, wait till you let Nasim and Jenny know about this night. They’re so gonna flip; you just knew it. Not to mention, the big looming ‘I told you so’ that was so coming your way.

“This is it.” he came to a halt, admiring the quaint little building that you happened to call home.

“You do know I’m not leaving until that heater is back on, right?” he ordered, but underneath his serious tone, you could see the concern.

“Oh come on Hader, let’s go see.”

The two of you taking the steps at a time, your body wanting to collapse, but you couldn’t let him know. He stood beside you while you inserted your keys into the lock, twisting it, before walking inside.

“What’s that rattling noise?” Hader wondered aloud.

A huge grin meeting your lips, you looked at him in pure delight, and he soon got the memo. His eyes widening before heaving a sigh of relief, only to halt.

“You call me if you need anything okay? Get some sleep, and um, stay warm. That’s an order, you hear me?” you could see his performance wavering as he tried desperately not to laugh.

“Yes, Sir.” you saluted weakly, but he only began to break instantly.

You really did love that laugh.

Thanks, Bill, for everything, really.” you said as he turned to head to the door, stepping up on your toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

His face instantly turned red before trying to compose himself as he walked away. You watched while he left the residence, giving you one last smile.

-

You awoke in a drowsy stupor that next morning to a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Want me to bring you some coffee and breakfast? - btw, this is Bill. Hope this l wasn’t too creepy. I ain’t no stalker.

Maybe: Bill: ps. How do you like your coffee?

Bill: ps.s yes or no?

You fell back on the bed with such a shit-eating grin, only to groan in response to the mistake you had just made.

You: Yes 

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