#idk why medic made me cough so hard holy

[longitud-de-onda]

on my mind

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; you’re trying to have a peaceful night in when javier brings home yet another informant, and while you brace yourself to hear the noises all night, you’re surprised to hear something else. rating; t warnings; strangling, medical inacurracies probably, some angst? idk it doesn’t feel super angsty to me but y’all’ll probably think it is word count; 2.4k requested; by anon “You are his next door neighbor and friend. At night, you often hear his escapades through the wall. One night, things sound more like a fight than sex. You aren't sure what to do. You have a key to his apartment. You sneak in to see what is going on. Javi's informant is strangling him with his tie for real. She runs away, Javi regains consciousness, & tells you that he thought he was going to die and the only thing he could think about was that he never told you he loves you.”

Javier fucking Peña. You’re gonna kill the man since this is the fifth time this week he’s brought a girl home and it’s only Wednesday and it’s 8pm and you want to relax after a long day. You can hear them coming up the stairs outside the building, the loud Spanish obscenities spilling from their lips in the hallway, the jingling of the keys as they enter his apartment.

He’s been doing it since you got to Colombia all those years ago, but it never ceases to hurt. Doesn’t he know how much noise he and all the women he has over make? Doesn’t he know how thin the walls are, that if they and you are in the right rooms in your respective apartments, you can hear every last word they say?

You’ve been Javier’s partner for what now feels like forever. And at some point between hiding behind walls during drug busts and the thrilling car chases through Bogotá, you fell in love.

Sometimes you wonder why you haven’t made a move. There are times when he grins at you after breaking a case or finding a lead and your heart soars, nights out drinking at bars, days where you’re on the hunt and you have each other’s backs when you wonder if maybe he feels the same. 

But you have to be reminded multiple times a week that your job relies on him fucking multiple women for valuable information, loudly.

He’s even gone so far as to offer you a night in bed with him. Multiple times. Those days are the worst. You know it would only be a one night stand and if you said yes it would break your heart.

So you settle for loving him from afar. You respect him enough to know that your feelings would only ruin things. If how he is is what makes him happy, then who are you to stop him?

You walk over to your bedroom to grab your walkman and try to drown out the sounds that will inevitably begin, hope you’ll be able to curl up on your couch and read the book you’ve been trying to start.

It takes all of three minutes for the sound of whatever is happening to breach the weak plastic of your headphones and you groan.

This is really the last straw. It’s been such a long day and Javier only made it worse by letting his hand linger a little longer than was considered friendly when handing you your coffee this morning and taking you out to lunch just to get out of the building. And then he had the nerve to leave early so that he could meet an informant, and you were stuck finishing up the paperwork, only to return home to the same sounds you were hearing now, finishing up.

You throw your headphones off and stand up. You were going to storm over and give Javier a piece of your mind when you hear something that is distinctively not sexual. It sounds like they’re fighting, there are some thumps on the floor that cannot feel good and you think you even hear something shatter.

You almost lunge over your dinner table to grab your handgun, and exit your apartment, quietly slipping over to his door, hoping he left his door unlocked. You try the handle and it glides right open. Leave it to Javier to forget to lock it in the heat of things.

You thank everything working in your favor that Javier has an entry hallway and you’re able to enter the apartment, back pressed against the wall, unnoticed. You slide closer, and the fighting has quieted. There’s no longer any human noises, just the sound of grappling, and that could definitely be sex and you really don’t want to walk in on that, but you assume the worst, Javier could really be in danger.

You peak around the corner and you freeze up. Javier is on the floor, some woman has her hand gripped around his tie and is pulling, hard, from behind. His face is bright red and a bit puffy and you notice he is unconscious.

“Hey!” you yell, pointing your gun at her, and she startles, dropping the tie, and Javier’s body flops to the ground.

You stare blankly at the limp body of your partner, which gives the woman enough time to slip out of the open window to the balcony, and you watch as she jumps over the railing, only a few feet to the ground below from the first-floor apartment.

She shouldn’t have gotten away. You could have shot her. You know that. But your breathing is shaky and you still are holding your gun up at the window, seconds after she’s gone, staring at Javier.

You finally come to and rush to the ground beside him, kneeling by his head. He can’t be dead. He just can’t be. You let out a sob and your throat is tight and pained with the oncoming tears. If Javier is dead? You don’t dare to think about what you would do.

You pull his arm into your hand, searching for a pulse, and upon finding it, you let yourself relax for a brief moment, before peeling off the tie from his neck. His skin is red and marred with a thick ring of abrasions from the rough fabric, and there are some frantic scratches on either side, suggesting he had further injured himself trying to get out.

You reach out a hand to touch the wounds, gasping as you feel how hot his skin is.

Javier sputters under your touch, his eyes springing open and coughing a few times until he calms down.

“Javi!” you exhale, “Javi, holy shit, I thought you were dead.”

He’s gasping for air, and you help him up, dragging his body over to the floor beside the couch, propping his back up against it.

You know he’s going to need treatment for the wounds on his neck, and you jump to your feet, rushing over to the kitchen. You open the freezer and push things around until you find an icepack and then throw open some cabinets, searching for some sort of pain medication. There. Inside one of the cabinets lies a few bottles of pills alongside a pitiful looking box of bandaids.

You bring the two items back to the living room where Javier is taking shallow breaths, and you sink to the ground next to him. The bottle is placed on the coffee table and you grab his hand and bring it and the ice pack to his neck, helping him hold it in place.

“Javi, when you’re ready, these pills are on the table here, you should take them,” you say.

“Y/N.” It’s the first word he’s said since you entered the apartment and you exhale shakily while managing to break a smile. He leans his head back on the couch, looking at the ceiling. “If you hadn’t come, I’d be—I’d—”

“Javi, don’t say that,” you say, “You’re okay now. That’s what matters.”

He brings his head back up and turns to look at you. You can feel his gaze but you really don’t know what to do. What to say. You look at the ground, waiting for something.

That something comes after almost five minutes of silence.

“If you think you can swallow you should try to take some pain meds,” you say.

“It doesn’t hurt much,” he says, voice hoarse. You know he’s lying.

“Still.”

Javier reaches forward to grab the bottle, sets down the ice pack, unscrews the cap and pours a pill into his palm. After swallowing, he replaces the ice on his neck, wincing at the contact.

“Do you need anything else?” you ask.

You want to say so much. You want to be mad at him. Mad that he got himself into this goddamn mess. But you can’t. All you can think about is how lost you would be if he hadn’t made it. How scared you had been, seeing him unconscious on the floor. The last time you had spoken with Javier about him doing this, about sleeping with the informants, it hadn’t gone well, and after today? You regretted every word you had said.

“Javi, you can’t keep sleeping with people to get information,” you said, slamming your hands on the desk after he brought up speaking with a fourth prostitute that week who he said would have valuable intel on one of Escobar’s sicarios.

“It works,” he shook his head, continuing to pack up his things.

“It works, but at what cost?” you threw up your hands, hoping it would emphasize your point, but Javier wasn’t even looking. “If someone finds out?”

“Tell me our most valuable leads haven’t resulted from it?” he said and he was right. Most anything of substance had come (quite literally) from Javier fucking them. But that didn’t mean you had to be okay with it.

“What if one of them knows what you’re doing? They get paid to get close to you? Try to take you out or something?” you said, voice getting dangerously loud.

“God, Y/N, you don’t have to be such a stickler for the rules, we’ve broken enough already. And I only do it with the women I trust,” he said, now at the door to your office about to leave.

“Fine, go fuck whoever you like, just don’t come running to me for help when you get hurt,” you said.

It had been four months since you had that conversation, but the irony of it all didn’t escape you. You felt bad after saying it but you feel even worse now.

“Please stay,” Javier croaks out beside you.

You nod. “Okay.”

As much as it hurts to sit next to him tonight, you can’t deny him anything. Not tonight.

It’s quiet for a while. You bring one leg up to your chest and with one hand trace little circles into the carpet.

“I thought I was going to die,” he says. He drops the ice pack in his lap. “The only thing I could think of was that I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to tell the woman I love how much she matters to me.”

Now it’s your turn to throw your head back on the couch and stare up at the ceiling. You blink a few times, realizing there are tears in the corners and you don’t know where they came from. You had gotten good at pushing your feelings away, but now, knowing that Javier had almost died? You don’t know what you would do if you had lost him. Life without Javier? It would probably break you.

And then there’s this woman he’s speaking of and you don’t know what to think of it, because Javier? In love with a woman? Singular? That wasn’t anything you had heard of. You couldn’t picture him falling for someone, wanting to spend a life with her. But you supposed it made sense. In the face of death, people realize exactly what they want in life.

It had happened to you, a couple times. Almost anyone in the field here in Colombia had those moments. Bullets flying inches from your face. Explosions where you’re caught only a few feet away from being fatally injured. Falls through unstable flooring in the apartments in the poorest parts of Bogotá. For you, those moments reminded you how important certain people were.

You didn’t have much family back home, no one significant enough to worry about, that’s why you took such a dangerous job so far from the States. But you remember waking up in the hospital a year ago, a bullet having grazed your side. Your final memories before blacking out were the feeling of warm blood pouring out across your stomach and Javier’s face. Javier, who was stuck in Bogotá for the week as you risked your life in Medellín.

“Maybe you shouldn’t waste any more time and tell her,” you say.

God knows you regretted not telling him. It was for the best, you knew. Javier wasn’t exactly the sort of guy to settle down. And the pain of rejection wouldn’t be as bad as the dull ache of seeing him every day afterwards. But if Javier loved someone? And she didn’t know? She deserved to know how much she mattered to him. That she was important enough to be the face he saw before he thought he would die.

“I don’t know,” he says, and you look over at him, brow furrowed. “She doesn’t think very highly of me.”

“How could she not think highly of you, Javi?” you say. You think the world of him, but there were plenty of reasons why someone might not. It’s not the moment to bring those up.

“It’s you, Y/N.”

You blink. Javier likes you?

“I know,” he continues, “I know you don’t—and you don’t have to—fuck. I don’t want to make this awkward”

“No,” you breathe, staring at him and shaking your head, “I—Me?”

You can’t believe what Javier had said. That all this time you were sitting on your feelings for each other, not saying anything.

“Yes, you,” he says, “Since day one, you’ve been the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. And you’re 100% there for everyone we work with. You care about people. You came rushing in today to save me even when you didn’t have to, when I didn’t deserve it. You said all that stuff, and you were right, but you still came—”

“I had to, Javi, I—I care about to you, too.” you say, “I couldn’t let you get hurt. I couldn’t lose you... I love you.”

Javier reaches an arm up to cup your cheek. Every inhale and exhale feels slower than ever before. His face has softened, a faint smile crosses his lips, more than his usual stern expressions ever allow, and there’s a certain something in his eyes, a glistening, and you bite your lip instinctively. And that’s when he leans in to take your lips in his own, and you, sinking into him, climb to your knees so that you can wrap an arm around his waist and intertwine your other hand into his hair.

It’s perfect until it isn’t as Javier jolts away with a noise that sounds painful and you jump back.

“Are you okay?” you’re back into panic mode, “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I, uh.” He lets out a breathy laugh. “I think I got too into it, moved my neck too much.”

“Do you need—”

“No, Y/N, I don’t need anything. I’m fine. I just, I need you,” he admits.

“Me too,” you say and sit back down next to him, leaning your head against his shoulder and reaching down, grabbing his hand, and interlocking his fingers with yours.

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest​ @turquiosenights @el-lizzie​ @sparrows-books​ @dxxkxx​ @opheliaelysia​ (edit: i completely forgot to tag @letaliabane​ i’m so sorry my document with my taglists was all messed up)

[leoninekelter]

All of my Avengers headcanons!

- Steve- bisexual

- Bucky- gay

- Tony- bisexual

- Stephen Strange- gay

- Natasha- aroace (occasionally lesbian, depends on which one I’m feeling at the time)

- Cooks along with cap and teaches Wanda with him since she’s interested, Avengers would probably just get takeout every day if they didn’t tbh

- Wanda- pansexual

- Loves scratch and sniff stickers. She cam to America and didn’t find out about them for a year, and then one day she ran into the living room with a sticker sheet screaming “PIETRO HOLY SHIT”

- Her and Vision are now both obsessed, along with magnets. At some point everyone just sticks magnets on Bucky and Vision sometimes and they like it.

- Vision- non binary (he/they)

- Clint- bisexual, non binary (they/them, doesn’t have dysphoria and is AMAB), ADHD

- Since I don’t injure my nose a lot, I live vicariously through Clint and every other week they have a nose bandaid.

- After like, two days, they’ll show up and have several new bandaids in like seven new places Clint wtf we just fixed you

- Half of them are for decoration, they loved colorful stickers and then Wanda’s discovery just fueled his need for colorful bandaids

- Pietro- aroallo (homosexual) or homoromantic homosexual, depending on what I feel like again

- I simply reject his death. He is alive. Periodt

- Not to show emotions, but he’d literally die for Wanda

- In the first month of being in the Tower, he just stuck by her side and was ready to kill the toaster because they’d never seen half the stuff there in their life

- Rhodes- trans (he’s gone through his whole transition by now, doesn’t like to bring it up much. I did it because I can idk)

- Loki- genderfluid bisexual (they/she/he)

- They knot and untie their sweater strings when they are nervous or bored. When they aren’t wearing a sweater they braid their hair strands.

- I also live vicariously through Loki, and they have several ear piercings.

- Thor- lesbian (jk pan, but doesn’t care for a label)

- Bruce- biromantic demisexual, autistic + OCD (haven’t completely worked out this headcanon, but I love it lmao)

- Has a blue point Siamese kitten named Einstein Thor got him once

- On the corner of his desk is a really shitty card Thor made for him. It’s like his favorite thing in the world besides the Odinsons and his cat.

- Einstein’s fur is really soft and smells really good so he constantly (I can’t make this not sound weird but idk) rubs his face in his fur cuz it’s so nice

- Likes to listen to music to focus or calm down, like Cavetown or Walk the Moon or Green Day (specifically Basket Case)

- Valkyrie/Brunnhilde- Bi

- Chews on the collars of her shirts. This wasn’t a habit that developed until her first gf died :(

- This is why she tries to wear jackets and things that aren’t fabric

- Her teeth hurts if she bites too hard on things after years of this, because they chew so much

- It only happens when she’s zoned out now, though

- Yes this is me projecting onto characters leave me alone 😔

- Hela- lesbian

- Her hair is never kempt. She probably hasn’t brushed it in years. Her hairstylist almost got punched last time she tried to straighten it out, now she just trims the bottom to her best ability and doesn’t bother.

- Accidnetally killed Valkyrie’s girlfriend in a car crash years ago. Doesn’t like to talk about that or emotions, but it fucked her up. She cried a lot after it and only Thor and Loki know. She’s much rather have Val hate her than talk about it though

- More of a satanist than anything else, she kinda just vibes

- Ultron- non binary (duh)(any pronouns, masc)

- Nebula- lesbian (sapphic hehe)

- Tried to stab Mantis once because she thought she was messing with her emotions, when really she’s just gay

- Still hasn’t smiled yet. She will one day though.

- Mantis-pan, autistic (ahaha we love irony and Mantis in this house) she/they

- Really, really dense. Despite being an empath, can’t understand tone or emotions of others or herself very well.

- It is her only goal in life to make Nebula smile. As she gets better at interaction, she hopes to get better at making her smile.

- Doesn’t actually like to read Nebula’s emotions though, because Nebula feels fiercely. She looks so empty but she is so much more emotional than anyone she’s ever read.

- Starlord/Quill- Bi, ADHD

- Gamora- trans :))))

- Peter Parker- trans, ADHD, isn’t sure or medicated yet tho so F in the chat

- Venom- non binary (they/them)

- Eddie Brock- obviously gay, shapeshifting alien bf hello

- Carol- lesbian

- Maria- lesbian

- Sam- he’s straight in most of my stuff but if I feel like shipping him with a hoe (cough Steve or Buck) he gay now idk

Ships:

OTPS

Steve + Bucky

Tony + Stephen

Thor + Bruce

Mantis + Nebula

LOVE

Wanda + Natasha

Wanda + Vision

Pietro + Clint

Carol + Maria

Bucky + Sam

Sam + Steve

Sam + Bucky + Steve

Carol + Val

Wade + Peter

Peter + MJ

Peter + Ned

Bruce + Tony

Rhodey + Tony

NOTP

anything inc*st and/or p*dophilia. Pretty basic, but... seriously pls dni

Inc*st includes half/step/adopted siblings :)

OKAY

basically everything else I don’t rly care what you ship lol

WON’T MAKE CONTENT FOR:

anything shipping Steve with a girl, or shipping Nat with a guy. They rub me the wrong way but I don’t mind if you guys mind your own business, you’re still very good people I bet :)

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

7 Days to Die - Part 2

Fever

Pairing: Implied Jensen x reader

Warnings: character death! Sadness, reader comforting Jensen, is death angsty? IDK, beware of any possible angst. SPN Level gore.

Word Count: 1,201

Summary: After joining Jensen and Jared’s company, Y/N gets used to the safety and company of others. But things go from bad to worse…

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

A/N: Easter Egg, Anime viewers: High school of the Dead. “I want to stay myself, until the end.”

~

Sun was high in the sky, indicating it was noon. Three rumbling stomachs indicated as much.

They stopped on the side of the now gravel road to snack down on some granola bars.

“Jared are you okay buddy?” Jensen asked as he munched down on his bar. “You’re looking pale.” He adds.

“I’m fine, think maybe it’s starting to get to me, the stress and whatnot.” He says.

“You sure Jare, we can always stop and rest up.” Jensen asked.

“I’m sure Jay, I don’t want us to slow down because of me. I want to get home.” he says.

Jensen silently agrees.

“So what’s your camp like?” Y/N asked.

“Well, its like a small city considering it’s everyone from set and their families that made it.” Jensen said. “Some people just learned skills as they went along, like Misha, he’s a medic. Chuck, he’s doing inventory on trades and scavenges, and even prepares for said hunts.” He explained.

“Benny is head of security, well both him and Jensen here.” Jared said.

“What about you Jared?” She asked.

“I’m in charge of most scavenges, to lighten the load for Chuck.” Jared said.

She was the first to finish her granola bar, Jensen soon after. But Jared hardly touched his.

“Dude, you sure you okay?” Jensen growing concerned.

“I’m fine, just not hungry is all.” Jared said, saving the bar for later.

 Their day was about to draw to a close, the sun was just about to set.

“Are we close to another hold out?” Y/N asked.

“It’s just up this road here.” Jensen says.

Jensen was in the lead, and Y/N wasn’t far behind. But he heard the definite thud of something hard hitting the ground. He turns to see Jared collapsed behind Y/N.

“Jared!” He alerted.

Y/N turned to see Jared unconscious. She is first to his side, places a careful hand on his head.

“Holy shit, he’s burning up.” She exclaimed.

“We need to get him to the hold out now.” Jensen says, grabbing Jared’s arm. Pulling him to his feet and they walked to another cabin, much bigger than the last one.

 After they laid him down, moments later he’s awake, aware and writhing in pain.

Jensen not once leaving his side.

Placing a cold rag on Jared’s head trying to keep him cool.

Jared turned to his side throwing up whatever in his stomach, mixed with blood.

“It hurts Jay!” Jared writhed.

“I know, it’s okay man, I’ll take care of you.”  Jensen says.

Y/N stuck by, checking Jared if he got bit. Seeing a wrapped up bandage on his leg, that is now discolored. Looking dead, black, grey and some yellow and purple.

“Jensen, look.” Y/N says. Sounding scared.

“What the…” Jensen says, getting up looking at the leg.

“One of them scratched him, I know it. The last place I was at, the guy that was with me on a supply run was attacked. He wasn’t bit but he had a scratch on his neck. He had a nasty fever, no appetite, god, why didn’t I notice before.” She began. Cursing herself she knew the signs, but didn’t think anything of it.

“It’s okay, you didn’t know. Jared’s good at hiding this sort of thing.” Jensen says, trying to help her not beat herself up.

Jared writhed more, violently. Shouting and yelling in pain.

“It hurts!” he shouted.

Jensen tries to hold him down by the shoulders, to keep him in bed as best as he could.

“I know buddy, but we’re gonna help you before it get’s worse okay, promise.” Jensen says, trying to soothe his best friend.

“I’m gonna die, I know it.” Jared chokes out, before coughing up blood. Turning to his side, even puking some blood in the process.

“No, don’t say that, we’re gonna help you.” Jensen says.

“Jay face it,” Jared says, a little more calmer and collected. But his face distorted in pain. “A walker scratched me, it’s worse than being bit.” He says.

Jensen didn’t want to believe it. He turns, looking away to collect himself as best as he could.

“I’m sorry brother, but my story ends here.” Jared says. “But I got to ask you two a favor, please,” he begins.

Jensen shakes his head. Knowing what he’s about to ask.

“Please, Jay, I know it’ll be tough. But I don’t want to be one of those things. I don’t want to walk around and hurt people. I want to stay myself, until the end.” He says.

In a beat, Jared is in so much pain he falls out of bed, writhing, gripping his sides. Yelling and shouting.

Jensen couldn’t do anything as he tried to soothe his friend who was now dying on the floor.

“I can’t, Jared!” he shouted over Jared. “I can’t!” he shouts. As Jared yelled out his final pained yell.

Y/N, behind Jensen, who saw all of this unfold, falls to her knees.

“It was just a scratch, how did it get so horrible?” she asked, voice sounding like she’s in a catatonic state.

“I can’t.” Jensen whispers.

His head hung low as he mourns his friends death.

Y/N stands, walks over to Jensen’s side. Places a comforting hand on his shoulder, kneeling next to him. He placed his hand over hers. Accepting her affection.

They noticed his arm twitched.

“He’s…” Y/N says.

Jensen jumped into action, taking Y/N in his arms, he moves her away from Jared.

Jared stands, slumped, and undead. It’s clear, Jensen doesn’t want to see Jared hurt or kill anyone.

Moving from Y/N, with her standing behind him. Jensen grabs the gun from his waistband at his side.

“I’m sorry buddy.” He says quietly. Turning the safety off, he cocks it ready. Jared starts to slowly walk toward them. Growling, hungry. “I’ll see you on the other side. Brother.” He says.

Lifting the gun, aiming it high. Firing one bullet, hitting Jared square between the eyes. Jared dropping dead before he could hurt them.

 They stood outside the cabin, watching the flames take Jared’s body.

The sun began to rise as they walked on the gravel path quietly. No words exchanged. Not even when they stopped midday for their lunch snack.

They neared a cabin once night fell. Jensen got the fire going in the fireplace in the living room.

Y/N entered the living from the hallway where the bathroom was. Having washed her hair out as best she could, and her skin. She can see he was not having a good time.

He stayed knelt by the fireplace. She walks quietly over to him, placing a comforting hand on him once again. Even wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders, and the comforting hand on his bicep.

He fights her affection, not wanting to cry in front of her. Not wanting to show a weakness. But she too was fighting sobs that tore at her throat.

“I know Jay.” She says. The sound of her fighting her sobs broke him. And he turned into her embrace.

“I know,” she says. As she held him, letting him cry it out. “I’m, so sorry.” She whispers.

One little scratch, just gone from bad to worse.

~

Keep the feedback coming, What do you think? Comment or ask to let me know what you think so far. :)

~

Jensen Tags:

@luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy​, @salt-n-burn-em-all​, @moonlight-on-her-skin​

[aquarianlights]

Hey I just have a question, as a transboy do you wear a binder on a daily basis and how do you deal in the summer if it's hot where you are? I find that it's extremely uncomfortable when it's hot to wear an extra layer and I'm just wondering if you know of any like lighter solutions than a normal binder? Xx

I actually don’t know any lighter solutions to binders, tbh. :/ I’m sorry. My favourite binder is from a company…uhm…GC2B? Or uh…something like that. Anyways…it’s absolutely amazing. And it’s actually rather breatheable, surprisingly. It does still get hot af, though. But I mean…during the summer, if you ARE going to wear binders…wear the ones that only cover the bare minimum. Like…only ones that cover your chest and nothing else. It helps with the heat problem a bunch. 😣 Coz I mean…if you don’t wear a binder, you’re probably gonna wear a bra (I hope???) so that’s still an extra layer in a sense but holy fuck bras are SO MUCH MORE BREATHEABLE THAN BINDERS. Not to mention they don’t squeeze you like binders do. “But that’s common sense, Riles. Don’t even go there.” Okay okay sorry. Tangent.

BUT. To answer your other question…I don’t always bind in the summer for the heat reasons. If I know I’m gonna be outside for more than 30 minutes, I don’t wear a binder. I am susceptible to heat exhaustion because of my medications so I have to be really careful. Not to mention, I get hot as fuck SO easily…and it puts me in SUCH a bad mood, that if someone even so much as rubbed me the wrong way, I would probably snap their neck off. You have no idea how many physical fights I have gotten into simply because it was too hot out and I had been in the sun too long. Fucking hell, I mean, …with what global warming (cough humans cough) is doing to this planet, I would not even be surprised if wearing a binder could KILL YOU in this heat. I mean, in case you missed it, things are literally MELTING in Arizona. Like. Fuck, dude. ._. Idk about you, but, being psychologically tortured and uncomfortable is better than dying of heat stroke or heat exhaustion or yknow…being literally cooked alive from the inside out. So no I don’t really wear binders during the summer. Or hot months in general.

I don’t always wear a binder when it’s comfortable out, either. I have to outwardly portray as female around my family so I don’t get beaten or yelled at or locked up. I also outwardly portray as female when I’m at home in the south. Basically because I’m scared of getting raped or shot or burned alive or whatever. I have had cis men shout at me that they want to “rape the girl back into me” and I have had a gun pointed to my head over my expressing myself as male outwardly. So…I mean…I’m just…scared, tbh. And since I’m in MA SURROUNDED BY FAMILY (aunts, uncles, great aunts and uncles, cousins, second cousins, third cousins, …I mean…holy wow, practically my whole damn family is up here so I’m constantly in the presence of everyone AND their friends) I just don’t bother binding. However…I have fairly small breasts and I always wear a bra that tucks them close to my chest in a comfortable way (not always a sports bra). So when I put on my clothes over that…it really only looks like I have little raises on my chest. You can barely tell at all. I mean, yes, you can tell…but it covers it pretty nicely. Helps that my breasts are really small.

But…I do think that I’m gonna start binding when I go to family things now. Coz after talking to one of my second cousins, I have found out that our family is pretty open to the LGBTQIA+ population…as we have QUITE A FEW lesbians and gays in our family. I think I’m the only transgender one, though. But some…a lot…of my family knows what transgender is (surprisingly, even a lot of my older 40-50+ aged family memebers know transgender things)…and I came out to a lot of people I felt it was safe to come out to so far…so I mean…I feel like when my mom introduces me as my birth name, I am going to start stepping up and saying “Please. Call me Riley. I am transgender and I don’t go by that name anymore.” Because I’m finding out that…the north is a LOT more accepting of us than the south is. Like…I don’t feel like I’m gonna get raped or murdered here if I go out of the house with my chest bound and portrayed as outwardly male. So I’m gonna start doing that…coz, I mean… I’m going to be getting on hormones anyways so my family will find out EVENTUALLY ANYWAYS. WHY NOT NOW. UGH.

Fuck. Tangent…sorry, mate. Lol.

But ANYWAYS…to answer your questions:No, I don’t know any cooler options to a binder. If any of my followers know, PLEASE shoot me an ask to publish or respond to this ask in the thread.No, I don’t wear a binder in the summer.

And, yes, I’m completely downplaying how utterly PHYSICALLY ILL it makes me feel to go outside outwardly portraying as female…but I will be damned if I end up passing out in the middle of Boston because I couldn’t handle taking my binder off. I do NOT want to die…and that would be an EXTREMELY painful way to die. And YES the dysphoria it causes makes me FEEL like I’m dying, but…fuck it. I can’t handle heat, man…the way the binders squeeze me makes the heat thing even more unbearable. And binders+heat=panic attacks for me. Coz I feel like I can’t breathe.

So…man…the only thing I can advise is invest in some bras that push your breasts down. Sports bras are a good way to start…but I found some that are a lot softer than that, push without it FEELING like it’s pushing, and gently cup your boobs on the inside with super soft breatheable material. And most of it is netted material…so it’s nice and breatheable. I think I got them at Target? Maybe Wal-Mart. Fuck, I can’t remember.

But I SERIOUSLY recommend getting a binder from these GC2B people. I forget if that’s the right name of the company…I will edit this when I can google it. Sorry. I’m on mobile. BUT ANYWAYS dude lemme fuckin tell you about these badass binders okay. 😎 Like holy fuck where do I start. They’re fashionable, they’re breatheable, they fit like a glove when you get the right size (and omg they have AMAZING staff and customer support that will help you return yours if it’s not the right size and exchange it for another size), they don’t squeeze you to death, they’re made of REALLY nice material, they don’t pull on your shoulders, they come in a variety of colours and skin tones and different models, they’re extremely durable…and they do the job they’re designed to do. And they do it DAMN WELL. When I put mine on, you can’t tell I have boobs at all. It chisels my chest into nice pecs. Like…I could not ask for a better binder. They’re not super expensive either. I mean…yeah, they cost a good bit, but they’re not “expensive”. They cost a COMPLETELY fair amount. And I PROMISE YOU they will help you find your right size no matter how many times you have to exchange sizes. And yes they have a measuring chart…like every FTM shop should!

But anyways I’m going on another tangent.

I’m really sorry I couldn’t answer your questions…Sometimes I wear baggy tops to cover my chest when I’m feeling more dysphoric than usual. And I feel dysphoric every time I don’t bind my chest. So summer fucking sucks. Stay indoors…lol. That’s the best advice…if you do things indoors, a binder shouldn’t be a problem. A/C is a fucking miracle, tbh. 😧

If anyone has any answers or personal experience to share for this lovely person, PLEASE hit up my inbox so I can publish it…or reply to this thread so nons can keep track of it. 🙂

Ily nonny! I’m sorry you’re having a hard time. I know that feel all too well… I really hope you find a solution that helps with the awful dysphoria. :/ And if you DO figure out something on your own…PLEASE come back and let me know. I would love to be able to comfortably bind during the summer without being cooked alive by the sun. Lol.

[skeletonwoman]

No Rules (Avengers)

honestly, i don’t know about this one. It is sitting in my drafts and my inspo had been Tony making jokes about a drywall robot (also i wanted to do a greys inspired fic) but idk like honestly i don’t know

So here’s a real... A real bad fic

Also it has a quite a fair amount of swearing in it so beware (also Wanda gets vicious)

“First of all, bitch.” Bucky starts, his hands in the air as he turns away from Thor, who is eyeing him in what can only be called puzzlement. You glance at your empty hands and frown. Snacks, you need snacks if Bucky’s going to start calling people bitches, which will definitely rapidly devolve into bitch subclasses.

Buckys bitch subclass of the week: Basic.

“Y/N!” Wanda calls and you look up, spotting and catching the packet of sour gummy worms flying at your head. Yes. Snacks, yes.

“You’re a nasty bitch-” Your jaw drops at the return of last week’s insult, but you can’t focus on that curveball right now- though it is a curveball, judging by Thors expression. “You’re not a team player, you spot something you want and you snatch it, with no consideration for anyone’s work, thoughts or emotional states.”

Ouch. You hold back your giggle, instead filling your mouth with the sour goodness.

“I simply requested that your form had changed from our last training session together, my friend.” Thor shrugs, waving his hand through the air and rolling his eyes. His gaze catches on yours and he shoots you a look that has Bucky grinding his teeth.

“You did not, you’re downplaying your role in this to make me seem insane. Overemotional, over anything, you fake bitch.” Bucky snarls, throwing a hand toward Wanda as if searching for some backup and you watch her panic, earning an ire filled glare from Bucky.

“Look, scum, I didn’t say anything.” Thor hisses, leaning forward and bending down slightly, as if to add insult to injury and a blush rises high in Buckys cheeks. The rage blush.

Soon.

“Say it again you feral, flea carrying, Viking, piece of trash.” Bucky says lowly, stepping forward, almost lip to lip with Thor. “Tell me I’m scum, tell me I’m overreacting.”

“You’re overreacting, because you’re a dirty, brain dead, metal plated, homeless looking speck of scum on the bottom of my boot.” Thor shouts, cavalier and grinning manically. A fist comes from nowhere, throwing him sideways and you can’t help shouting like a cowboy and throwing your sour treats in the air.

“It’s on!” You cheer, diving into the fray and getting a kick to the chest in a short second. Coughing, you force yourself upright again. “Yeah. That’s the stuff.”

“I hate you!” Wanda screeches, appearing above you like a vampire and crashing down upon you. You’re not surprised when she grabs your hair, but you’re prepared and pull her ankle hard. “Ouch!”

You can’t help hissing as she bites down on your wrist, glaring at you like a savage monkey. Stooping, you knee her in the gut and roll her over, tearing your hair free as her grip loosens and instead pinning her and setting your butt over her face.

“Say mercy!” You roar and she screams, only for you to feel the weightlessness of flight. Crashing, you land among the pot plant, rolling out seconds later and leaping to your feet excitedly.

“So sorry.” You whisper to the plant as you pick up the pot and hurl it into the now five person pile-up of a fight.

“Who threw that?” Natasha shouts just above the din and you don’t waste time freezing, instead launching yourself onto Buckys back as he breaks free from the tangle.

“Got ya.” You cackle, whooping as he swings you over his shoulder. Your whoop ends on a sudden gasp as the wind flies from your lungs and you stare up at your maker. “Hello God.”

“You’re gonna wish it was God.” Bucky snickers, disappearing moments later as a body flies into him.

“When?” You ask the empty air above, smirking to yourself, only for Wanda to roll across you. “Are you dead?”

“Close to it. I’m gonna bite off your pinkie finger.” She warns, meeting your eyes without an ounce of mercy in hers.

“Not if I bite off yours first.” You laugh, snatching her hand and pulling it hard toward your face.

You shouldn’t be surprised when she uses the momentum to punch you- to the face. Somehow, you are.

“Little- little- little murder-bot.” You groan, clutching the back of your head where it bounced off the floor.

As a wall, or part of it, comes tumbling down, white confetti falls from the ceiling and you groan with relief.

“Thank all that is holy.” You grunt, panting from where you’re still stretched out over glass, soil and likely one persons nail. Uh and- a shoe, size twelve, matte black leather.

“Mine.” Sam grins, snatching it from you and you smile at him softly.

From the corner of your eye, you see Tony wave a hand through the air and Residents fly through the air, clacking open above you and pulling to your feet. You smile at the exoskeletal robot and hold out your arms, letting it attach itself to your body like a suit of splints.

“Is this O’Malley? I hope it’s O’Malley.” You hum, checking your wrist, similarly like when one looks at the time, and eye the tag. “Yay! O’Malley.”

Of all the residents, the robots that picked you guys up after a fight and walked you back to wherever medical was, O’Malley is your favourite. Named after the Greys Anatomy season one interns, you made Stark model their workmanship after the characters themselves.

Karev- a good machine but terrible at taking orders from the person it’s attached to, Grey- always breaking down and buzzing loudly at you but it applies the best care, Yang- similar to Grey but instead of breaking down the machine is always rushes through your care, Stevens- the robot with a heart, it listens too much to the person its attached to and gets distracted with all the commands, and lastly O’Malley- cool under pressure but doubtful with every decision. Of course, there are other Residents like Bailey, Torres and most of the cast, but the first season interns are always first on the scene.

Stretching out your battered limbs, you feel your body relax at the barely discernible hum of the Resident on your back. Residents mean safety, healing and care. Residents also mean life, living.

“Look at this mess.” Tony sighs, taking in the room as a buzzing clunk sounds in the doorway.

“Kepner! You made it!” The entire group cheers, the old and clunky robotic vacuum ignoring you entirely as it slowly starts across the floors. A loud humming sounds and you watch the rest of the robots fill the room, cleaning, melting, rebuilding and… erratically painting.

“Drywall robot.” Tony marvels happily and you snort. “Laughter isn’t admissible after I completed the robot and brought all these features to life.”

“Ouch.” You tease, looking about the room and pouting at the billionaire. “That was pretty fun.”

“Very relaxing.” Bucky grins, bumping his fist against Thors. “This bitch.”

“Hey! Gummy worms!” Steve shouts, batting away a little robot and snatching up the bag. “They’re still good!”

“Yes, gimme!” You crow, the group descending on Steve like a ravenous horde. Moments before he’s crushed under the weight of you all, you see regret flash across his face. Idiot.

“It’s gotten to the point where I can’t go out for lunch anymore.” Fury groans, “I leave for five minutes and return to see Bob the Builder putting drywall up over a gaping hole. He’s not even a licensed contractor and he hasn’t got any of the credentials to do construction work- because he’s a robot.”

A soft whir sounds and Fury mutters a soft curse before rubbing his face and rising slowly from the chair.

“I’ll get out of your way.” He says gently, Kepner clunking over the spot where his feet had been moments ago, and disappearing under the chair.

Lucky stares at Fury, head tilted before barking happily. Fury sighs, only to flinch as a loud crash sounds from the next room.

"I don't even know why they do it."

i hoped you enjoyed the shitshow, it was produced entirely by me (and a little bit of Shonda)

[the-baddest-bitch]

Mr. Han Will See You Now - Chapter 1

Tying Up Loose Ends

Rating : 13+ For cursing

Chapter 2

“Mr. Han. I have important news.” His capable assistant, Jaehee Kang, stepped into his office.

“Can it wait?” Jumin didn't look up from the paper that he was reading.

“It can, I suppose, but it wouldn't be wise to wait any longer.” He looked at her and raised his eyebrows in a “Well?” gesture.

“I’m going to resign.” That was something he hadn't expected. He blinked, and then nodded.  

“I understand. When will you be resigning?” Jumin was quite disappointed. Assistant Kang, soon to be just Jaehee Kang, was the best assistant he had ever had. He was going to miss her. Well, he was going to miss her work ethic.

“One week from now. I decided to tell you beforehand because I wanted time to tie up loose ends.”

“I appreciate that. But, if you don’t mind my asking, why exactly did you decide to resign?”

“I finally found something I truly enjoy doing, and I’m going to pursue it.” Jumin nodded, and quietly remarked, “I see.”

“I’ll start looking right away for your next assistant with the time I have left. Now, if you'll excuse me.” she bowed slightly to him and turned towards the door.

“Assistant Kang.” She looked back at him. “...Thank you.” Her eyes widened in surprise.

“I...was only doing my job.” Jumin nodded.

“Yes, exactly. And I am thanking you for doing it with as much dedication as you have.” She blinked several times, then simply nodded to him and exited the room.

That had been 3 days ago. Jumin leaned back in the airplane seat and closed his eyes. Only 4 days left until she was gone. All he could do now was hope that his next assistant would stay at least a little bit longer than 3 weeks.

~

Yoosung Kim needed a job. It was almost summer break, and he was going to be graduating university soon. He needed money to be able to pay for medical school. His good grades alone couldn't make him a veterinarian.

He was 22 now, so no places should have any qualms about hiring him anymore. But he still couldn't find any places that were right for him. He briefly thought about C&R, remembering the internship application he'd sent in a year ago, but then dismissed it. They wouldn't hire someone who wouldn't even be going into their line of business.

He groaned and rubbed his eyes, considering gaming to take his mind off things. He retrieved his headset and logged onto LOLOL, his favorite game.

He played 3 rounds, but just couldn't get into any more, so he switched to his email. To his confusion, he had an email from someone named Jaehee Kang. Do I know a Jaehee Kang? I don't think so.

He opened the mail and his eyes immediately widened. C&R? What do they want with me? I was just thinking about them too, huh... He fervently read the email’s text, at first not comprehending the words. He reread the first paragraph a few more times, understanding but not believing, until he ripped off his headset and snatched his phone off the desk. He input the number listed in the email’s signature and held the phone to his ear.

“This is Jaehee Kang.” A polite, but tired, female voice answered.

“Ah, yes. I’m Yoosung Kim. You emailed me about the job offer as an assistant?”

“Oh! Thank you for calling me.” Her voice perked up a bit. “Are you interested in the job?”

“Yes!” He coughed, trying to cover up his eagerness. “I am. When can I come in for an interview?” She was silent for a moment.

“It is a bit sudden, but I would like to say tomorrow.” He sputtered a bit - only a little! - and she continued. “I’ve already reviewed your résumé, after all.”

“That’s right. Yeah I can do tomorrow, then. What time?” The woman made a small thinking noise before responding.

“2 p.m.?”

“Alright. Thank you very much!”

“Thank you. If you’ll excuse me.” With that, she hung up. Well, she seems like a very nice lady. I wonder what that Jumin Han guy is going to be like. Oooh! I should tell 707 about this!

8:37 - DuDe

8:38 - Ya?

8:38 - REMEMBER WHEN I APPLIED FOR AN INTERNSHIOP AT C&R

8:38 - Yaaaa

8:39 - I’VE GOT AN INTERVIEW TOMORROW WITH THEM FOR AN ASSISTANT JOB

8:39 - wo~ah. Whose assistant are you gonna be?

8:39 - Well it’s not a certainty yet it’s just an interview

8:39 - BUt I’m going in to be interviewed for being Jumin Han’s assistant

8:41 - YOU MEAN TH E FRICKING EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR

8:41 - THAT JUMIN HAN??

8:41 - holy. Shit. Yeah that one

8:41 - DUudE HE WAS KNOWN FOR NOT KEEPING ASSISTANTS MORE THAN LIKE 2 WEEKS THEY ALL SAID HE WAS A HORRIBLE BOSS

8:41 - What’d he do??? He didn’t sound TOO bad from the lady’s description.

8:43 - Apparently he’s really cold and unreasonable and basically like a slave driver

8:45 - well...people exaggerate

8:45 - BRO

8:45 - Bro. This is the only job offer I’ve gotten in months. I NEED money for med school. And for money, I need a job

8:46 - alright alright alright whatever

8:46 - just be careful

8:47 - Careful of what? I’m just going to be his assistant. And I still might not even get it

8:47 - IDK man. Just be careful

8:47 - yeah yeah

The next day, Yoosung arrived at C&R at 1:45. He’d been too excited and nervous to wait any longer to leave. He stood outside the revolving doors for a few minutes, working up the courage to go inside. He finally took a deep breath, pushed through his apprehension, and into the lobby.

The lobby was actually a lot quieter and more reserved than he’d imagined in his head. The high ceiling and sleek metal surfaces gave it a very futuristic air. Yoosung saw professionally dressed people walking around purposefully. He looked down at his own clothes (namely his bow tie) and wondered how much he stuck out. He decided it didn’t matter whether he stuck out or not. He squared his shoulders and strode towards the reception desk.

The man sitting there spoke before he could. “How can I help you, sir?” He said. Yoosung didn’t think he’d ever been called ‘sir’ by someone older than him before. He almost laughed.

“Ah, hello. I’m here for an-um-interview.” The man nodded and directed him to the correct place. Now, he had to get on an elevator. Great. An elevator. I hate elevators. I hope I don’t get stuck in the middle. Please don’t let me get stuck in the middle. He hurried towards the elevator bank, and noticed - mercifully - that there was no line. Maybe I won’t even have to be with another person on the elevator! He pushed the button and stepped back, making sure he wasn’t in the way of anyone walking.

The steel doors whooshed open and Yoosung practically fell inside. The nervousness was starting to really wear him down, and he very much wanted to get the interview over with. As the doors were closing again, a hand reached through them and they opened back up. A tall, handsome man strode through them and Yoosung crept to the back of the elevator. They stood in silence for a few seconds, until the man said something unexpectedly.

“So.” The man didn’t turn towards him as he spoke. “Are you to be my new assistant?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Now Yoosung was uncomfortable and confused.

“We’re going to the same floor, you have a guest ID badge, and you seem very afraid. Was I incorrect in assuming that you’re here for an interview?” Those points all made sense, but he couldn’t quite believe that this man was Jumin Han. Shouldn’t he be a lot older? He was supposed to be the executive director, and this guy didn’t even look thirty!

“Ah. Excuse me. I forgot to introduce myself. I suppose you may not know my face unless you read those senseless magazines.” The man finally turned to look at him, and put his hand out. “Jumin Han, Executive Director.” Oh. Shit. This was the guy?

Yoosung met his eyes and shook his hand firmly.

“I’m Yoosung Kim. And yes, I am here for an interview.” Jumin nodded, but didn’t turn back around. Instead, he turned more towards Yoosung, his eyes bright, his voice a little less deadpan, and asked,

“Are you allergic to cats?” The elevator dinged over his response, and Jumin stepped out.

“If you’re to be my assistant, I hope you aren’t. This way.” He made a beckoning gesture and continued down the hallway.

Why...does it matter... if I’m allergic...to cats? I suppose I’ll find out soon.

~

The interview went smoothly. A lot more smoothly than he'd expected. Ms. Kang was very polite and professional. Luckily, Jumin didn’t sit in on the conversation, which would've made Yoosung feel waaay more nervous than he already was. All Ms. Kang did was ask Yoosung things like, “Are you okay with late hours?” and “Why do you want this job?” and a few out-there questions like, “Are you allergic to cats?” Ms. Kang explained that Jumin's cat, Elizabeth 3rd, sometimes required taking care of.

The day after, she called him with the good news. He'd spent the day titillating between apprehension and excitement, overthinking his behavior and wondering if everything he'd done had been a mistake in hindsight.

When Jaehee told Jumin about the good news, he didn't react with nearly as much excitement. He was glad that she'd found someone suitable, mind you, but still displeased that she was leaving in the first place.

On the phone call, Yoosung asked her why it was that she was resigning. He wouldn't want the job if Jumin was actually a horrible boss, obviously.

“Um...if you don't mind my asking, why exactly are you resigning?”

“It makes sense that you would ask that. I found my true passion, coffee, and I'm going to be opening a coffee shop with one of my close friends.”

“So it has nothing to do with Jum-I mean Mr. Han?”

“No. He's a fair boss, as long as you're willing to work hard.”

“Oh. Alright. I am definitely going to work hard!”

“I hope you will. I'll see you tomorrow at 8 a.m., then?”

“Yes ma’am! Thank you again for choosing me. I won't let you down.”

“I will hope not. If you'll excuse me.” When he got off the phone with Jaehee, he yelled ecstatically in his apartment. His neighbor banged loudly on the wall and yelled back, telling him to shut up. He looked apologetically at the wall and whisper-yelled excitedly instead. He had just gotten a job! And tomorrow he'd be shadowing to see what he'd be doing. He decided to text his best friend, 707, again and tell him the news.

7:17 - dUUUDE

7:17 - I!Got!The!Job!

7:18 - HOLY SHIT THAT'S AWESOME

7:18 - despite who your boss is gonna be lolololol

7:18 - yeah yeah whatever with your superstition

7:18 - BUT I'M SO EXCITED

7:19 - I'M GOING IN TO SHADOW THE CURRENT ASSISTANT TOMORROW

7:20 - alright alright

7:20 - bUT YEAH THAT'S PRETTY AWESOME I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU

7:20 - YAYYY

7:21 - YAYYYYYYY

7:21 - okay okay I'm calm now

7:21 - I'm gonna play LOLOL wanna join?

7:22 - man I'd love to but I'm working

7:22 - T_T alright

Yoosung shut his phone and booted up his computer. Tonight would be his last rage for a while, and he’d only play until 10 o’clock. He was going to be a responsible adult for the first time in his life. Tomorrow would start a new chapter in his life, and he wanted to be well rested in preparation.