#it just gets on the nerves of me -> person who needs systems to have internal logical consistency

[mnemo-sick]

transformers fanon anatomy terms? yeah, sure. I don't use all of them, but most of them don't bother me

transformers fanon timekeeping terms? I am filled with unending rage

[steampunk-raven]

advil not kicking in :) not sure what I was expecting tbf but it’s not like I can tell my ob-gyn that I need stronger meds and have her *listen* to me

[runariya]

Beyond Probability JJK (m.)

summary: Matching with an idol? Unlikely. But with a 99% compatibility? Beyond probability. pairing: idol!Jungkook x f!reader genre: idolvers, S2L, fluff, smut rating: 18+, MDNI! warnings: fluff, fluff, a bit of self doubt, fluff, fluff, explicit sexual content, shower sex, unprotected sex, pls lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 4k

a/n: It’s a rly cute and short oneshot, light and mainly fluff, nothing too deep, no big words etc this time. Just had to get it out of my system since the idea’s been on my mind for months now (unedited bc I fell ill halfway through writing it 🤒)

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

Your biological clock’s ticking, has been for some years now, and even though you’re only now nearing 30, you’re painfully aware that the life you pictured as a kid might never come true.

It’s not like you’re unstable in who you are or what you’re doing. You’re fairly successful at your job, you’ve got your own place, and you’re more social than most people these days. Still, you’re only what most would call average-looking, and even though you’ve got a good career, you’re too soft to keep it up forever. You picture yourself more as a loving wife and mother than a corporate boss bitch climbing the ladder of success.

That’s also why your dating life has been rocky all along. Men see what you put out there, but they don’t like who you really are or what you want from life, which has left you single for most of it.

So, when a new project starts, after the K-pop industry finally acknowledges that idols need partnerships and a life of their own, and fans finally understand that these people are human too, that they deserve to experience love and happiness like everyone else, you decide to take your chances too.

Funnily enough, all the labels have teamed up, hiring not only the best scientists and psychologists from Korea but from around the world to create a program that can find ideal matches for their idols. Sure, science shouldn’t determine who you fall in love with, but… what if it could?

After being pre-selected, just to confirm you’re not some crazed fan, you’ve spent over two weeks going through tests. Recorded interviews, personality assessments, even physical evaluations… now you’re staring at your company’s computer screen, listening to Dr. Song explain the results through the phone. 

“Ninety-nine percent?”

“Yes. The chances of such a high compatibility score are next to impossible. We see it as a perfect match and would like to introduce you to your match.”

“Sure, of course.” Even though your voice is steady, you can feel your nerves flaring up like never before.

“Is tomorrow at 8 p.m. alright for you?”

“Yes, that works for me.”

“Perfect, we’ll see you then.”

Well, joke’s on you, you didn’t expect this outcome. 

Meeting an idol feels surreal, and the closer you get to 8 p.m. the next day, the more you can feel the anxiety and doubts inside you rising. Every last detail in Dr. Song’s calm, clinical rundown replays in your mind, the ninety-nine percent match, the endless rounds of testing, the surreal realisation that, somehow, all those numbers and algorithms miraculously spat out a name next to yours. 

You want to trust that there’s a reason for this, that somehow science isn’t just working with chance, but the tension of actually meeting someone this special is so overwhelming you barely notice yourself entering the lab building until you’re standing outside Dr. Song’s office.

“Right on time,” she chirps, giving you an approving nod. She seems to sense your nerves, and as she leads you down a hallway you’ve never been before, she gives you a reassuring smile. “I know this is all a lot. But he’s likely feeling the same way. The tests told us that he’s, well, quite like you.”

Her words would make you laugh in any other situation, though disbelief and a strange kind of comfort floods through you still. Like you. An idol, standing here in a lab somewhere to meet some random stranger, feeling just as out of place as you. You’re not sure of that but still like to think it must be true. 

You don’t have time to process it fully before you’re led into a quiet room with yellowish walls so plain they almost blur in the corners of your vision, a low, comfortable couch and a couple of chairs standing there and none of the lab equipment that surrounded you in the testing rooms all those weeks ago. 

And then you spot him, sitting on the couch, alone. He stands the second you walk in, hands half in his pockets, a slight, almost unsure smile grazing his lips as he glances down at you. He’s got that casual look about him, the same dark eyes you’ve seen a hundred times on a screen that somehow feel warmer and more human here. 

He looks not quite better than he does on screen, but not worse either. Somehow, he’s realer, if that’s a word, close enough that you can see the little flecks of colour in his irises, the slight tension in his posture, the faintest trace of nerves hiding under his composure.

“Hi.” Jungkook’s voice is lower, softer than you expect from an idol. “Nice to meet you, I’m Jungkook.”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m ___.” There’s a pause, and you can tell he’s just as unsure what to do with the space between you two as you are. The click of the door makes you turn around briefly, only to realise Dr. Song has left you both alone. “This is, um, weird, right?”

He nods, a quick, breathy laugh breaking through. “Very. I mean, this isn’t exactly a ‘normal’ kind of meeting, right?”

His words are awkward but disarming, and suddenly, you’re aware of all the tiny, meticulous details of him that somehow make him feel more relatable than his polished, on-screen persona. The way his hand keeps moving to rub against his thigh or abs, his tongue playing with his lips and piercing ever so slightly, everything about him is familiar but also somehow close enough to feel completely new.

“I don’t think I was ready for this,” you admit. You aren’t really talking to him but more like letting your own thoughts slip out in the safest way possible, like saying it makes it feel less absurd.

“Honestly, same.” He laughs, and you think there’s a light flutter in your chest now. “I kept thinking about this whole ninety-nine percent thing. Like… how does that even work? Isn’t it supposed to feel, I don’t know, obvious? Like you know the moment you see someone?”

You nod, understanding exactly what he means, and somehow you move on autopilot, walking towards him and sitting down on that couch with him beside you. It feels like you should both somehow know, like there’s a sign or an instant connection, something that would make all of this feel simple, easy. But it’s just the two of you in a quiet room, barely knowing each other, held together by nothing but a number on a report.

“Yeah, that’s so wild. I didn’t think I’d have a match, this close to a hundred even less. Might be a glitch if our score is this high.”

Jungkook nods with sparkling eyes, seemingly relieved by your honesty and humour. “Yeah, I get that. I kept thinking about it too. Wondering if maybe the tests were wrong, or maybe I was just…thinking too much.” He lets out a sigh, his gaze meeting yours for a long, meaningful second. “But I think maybe this is about finding out, right? Not having it all make sense right away.”

“Hm, makes sense.” You giggle, because what else can you do in the presence of him.

The two of you sit there in a momentary silence, as if testing each other, feeling out the small boundaries that keep you both distant.

“So, what did the report tell you about me?” You ask the question half-jokingly, trying to break the quiet, but also curious. You want to know what he knows, how much of this supposed ninety-nine percent compatibility is actually something that either of you feel. 

He lets out a silent breath, looking down as if slightly embarrassed. “Honestly, not as much as you’d think. They told me you were kind of… soft-spoken but resilient? And that you have a job that’s, uh, stable and…” He trails off, the tips of his ears slightly pink, like he’s embarrassed to keep going.

“And?” You can’t help but push further, not maliciously, just way too curious and playful for your own good. Jungkook’s expression shifts from embarrassed to surprised, and then to a look that’s just as playful.

“And that we’re, apparently, very much sexually compatible.”

Really, you should be the one feeling embarrassed or shy now, but you can’t help the laugh that slips out. You know exactly what he’s hinting at, your report clearly showed the same.

“Well, it might be not wrong. And they told me…” You pause, realising that you barely remember the details in the face of the reality in front of you but alas. “They said you’d be a good match because, I think, there was something about humour?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Humour? Never heard of it.” And it makes you laugh all over again. “I feel like they just told us things we’d want to hear, to make it seem easier and normal.”

His words hit close to home, but they’re strangely comforting in the way he says them. You reckon, he’s just as bewildered by this as you are, maybe even more so. And somehow, in the middle of all the awkwardness, you find yourself genuinely smiling at him, naturally gravitating towards him, finding that there’s a softness and reassurance in his gaze, a gentleness that cuts through your nerves like a knife through melted butter in the sun. 

You start talking more freely after that, exchanging stories that are too mundane to make sense in any real context but feel right here. You tell him about your last trip to the beach, how you got sunburned and spent the whole evening sitting on your balcony, nursing it with iced water and aloe, wishing for a helping hand that you didn’t have. He laughs, nodding along as if he can picture it exactly and tells you about how he tried to make pasta he ate in Italy for the first time a few months back and ended up burning the whole batch, because no one was by his side, so badly his kitchen smelled like smoke for days.

The more you talk, the more you notice the little things about him that aren’t so polished, aren’t so perfect, and make him feel more human and real than anyone you ever met. He has a way of listening, eyes intent on yours, like he’s trying to pick apart every word to understand it better. When he laughs, it’s with his whole face, even body, not the careful, composed look of an idol but a natural, carefree laugh that makes you feel like maybe he’s as relieved as you are to be here, to have someone he doesn’t have to impress. 

At some point, you both lapse into a comfortable silence, each lost in your own thoughts but somehow still connected. The tension from earlier has faded away, replaced by a soothing aura you know you don’t want to miss for a day in your life.

Eventually, Jungkook glances over at you, his eyes sucking you in without much resistance. “I kept thinking this would feel forced, you know? Like we’d be sitting here, struggling to find anything in common.” He leans back, drapes his arm around the back of where you’re sitting, glancing up at the ceiling as if searching for the right words. “But… it doesn’t feel that way. You feel… I don’t know, right?”

The slight flutter in your chest has now swelled into a full-blown hurricane, and you’re not sure if it’s that ninety-nine percent compatibility causing it. But you don’t let yourself think too much, not when you’ve both been inching closer with each word, not when you take a chance and lean in, resting your head against his side. Especially not when his arm settles directly over your shoulder, pulling you a little closer, his other hand finding yours, fingers intertwining just to see how it feels.

“Yeah, it feels right. I really like this.”

As you absently play with his fingers, breathing in his scent for the first time and deciding it’s like heaven, you let yourself trust science. Because this feels like exactly where you’re meant to be.

While the first meeting with Jungkook went better than you’d ever hoped, you’re painfully aware of your overthinking nature. Overthinking in a way that makes it painfully clear there are countless women out there who, on the surface, would seem a better visual match for him than you.

Overthinking to the point where you wonder why Jungkook would even need matchmaking when he could so easily choose a partner on his own. It’s also why staying focused at work isn’t exactly easy today, knowing that soon his label will be sending a car to pick you up for your next meeting with him.

You understand the precautions they’ve taken and completely agree it’s better to meet in a private, safe space rather than making headlines this early on. That’s why, as the tinted car arrives, you feel a bit more at ease than you have all day.

Soon enough, you’re driving down the path to the label’s underground garage, and while you fix your makeup real quick, the car comes to a stop. The driver nods and guides you towards the lift, where the lights are dim and everything has this quiet, professional atmosphere you’ve only seen on screen.

You try to take it all in, letting your thoughts settle just a bit more as you follow through to the hallways upstairs, past doors labelled with room numbers and studios, and then finally, you’re outside the door to Jungkook’s studio, right where you’re supposed to meet.

Your heart beats a little faster as you hear Jungkook’s familiar voice call out, “Come in,” and when you open the door, you find him leaning casually against the chair before his equipment with an easy smile that somehow manages to be both happy and slightly flirty. 

Again, Jungkook’s dressed just like uniquely him, with a few silver rings glinting on his fingers. And while you didn’t think he’d even get up to greet you, he steps forward and embraces you in hug so tight, it leaves you drowning in him. 

“Hey,” he greets with that disarming grin, eyes boring into you, taking in your formal work attire, as he gestures to the coffee set up besides his laptop. “Hope you don’t mind the casual vibe.”

You laugh a little, settling onto the free chair beside him, feeling a bit strange but somehow not. “I think it’s perfect. And to be honest, I don’t think I’d cope well with the whole five-star dining treatment and whatnot.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement, taking your purse from your hands and draping it casually over the back of his chair. The fact that he’s still so attentive, even though he’s clearly in his element here but completely relaxed, is rather fascinating and pulls you in even more.

Like the day before, talking with him comes easy, and while there’s nothing groundbreaking in your conversations, every word feels meaningful in the bigger picture.

Eventually, you feel yourself relaxing like you were at home by your own, getting comfortable enough to let out the thoughts that have been swimming in your head since last night. “I’ve thought a lot about how all of this could play out,” you admit, taking a sip of your coffee, trying to find the right words, though knowing there won’t be any wrong words when talking with Jungkook. “And honestly, I’m not really interested in taking things public if they did work out. I know that’s probably strange to say, but I’m not cut out for the spotlight.”

He tilts his head, watching you thoughtfully. “No, it’s not strange at all. I get it.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you go on, “I just want something real. A partner who’s loyal, someone who’s there because we get each other, not because we’re some public ‘it’ couple, parading around every chance we get. Does that sound crazy?”

He shakes his head, while he swings from one side to the other.  “Not at all. That actually sounds perfect to me.” There’s a sincerity in his tone that makes you feel, for the first time, like there’s some truth to your report. “The whole ‘idol’ thing is just a job. It’s not who I am, not at the core. And having someone who sees it that way, is what I want too.”

It elates you to know that you could have something like this, with him,  someone you could genuinely share your life with.

Then, in a thoughtful voice, he asks, “What do you want for the future? I mean, outside all of this.” 

You take a breath, feeling a little nervous but wanting to be honest. It’s not like it’s news to him, seeing that this information’s written in the report he was handed. “I want something traditional. A home, a family, maybe staying home with kids, having that steady, grounded life. It sounds simple, I know, but it’s what I’ve always pictured.” You look up at him, expecting maybe a hint of judgement, but instead, you find him nodding, his eyes lighting up like a candle in the night.

“I don’t think that sounds simple at all, but meaningful.”

A shy smile forms on your lips as you add, “Sometimes I feel like people don’t see that side of things anymore, you know? Like everyone’s so focused on careers and success and everything else… and I get that, I do, but I’ve always just wanted something steady. Something I can hold on to.”

His hand finds yours, his fingers like second nature intertwine with yours, and the gesture is so simple yet so heartwarming that you feel like squealing out of happiness. “That’s exactly what I want too.” It’s nothing new to you too, but him saying that, seeing the honesty in his eyes, is better than any data shown to you. “I want that sense of home.”

You feel yourself falling a little harder, a little faster, and maybe that scares you a bit. You’ve seen the kind of attention he gets, the kind of girls that throw themselves at him, and it’s hard not to let those doubts creep in. Especially now. “I know this probably sounds insecure,” you start awkwardly, glancing away, “I think, I don’t know, maybe I’m not the kind of person someone like you would go for. I mean, you could have anyone, and not just because you’re an idol.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb tracing soothing circles against your skin. And while his mouth opens to say something, the pull against your hand surprises you as much as him settling you in his lab. “Hey, don’t think like that. I’m here because I want to be. And trust me, I’m not looking for ‘anyone’. I’m looking for someone who gets me. And that someone is you, no?”

The look in his eyes is so genuine, so unguarded, that it’s hard to keep your heart from doing all sorts of stunts. He’s not the polished idol right now; he’s just Jungkook, being flirty, being compassionate, being so him, sitting in a cosy studio with his tattoos, his piercings, his moles, his beautiful smile, his whole presence more comfortable and inviting than you could have imagined.

And as he sits there, looking at you like you’re the only person in the world, you realise that you definitely don’t have to doubt this. Maybe it’s okay to let yourself believe that he’s here because he wants to be, that he’s falling for you irrevocably just as you’re falling for him. 

“Sooo… that means?” You know you need to be brave now, because if this isn’t a dream, you’d never forgive yourself for not taking the leap.

“That means, if you want to, I’d love to have you as my girlfriend.”

“Isn’t it a bit rushed?” You don’t actually think so, but you still need to be sure.

“I’m all in if you are. I don’t want to waste any more time, and even though it’s just a report, I can feel there’s real truth behind it.”

Fast forward seven months, and you find yourself pressed against the shower wall like you do every night. But this time, it’s different, just hours ago, you made your first public appearance on a music show with Jungkook, just because you both felt ready, where he was not only nominated for Best Singer of the Year but won as well.

“Koo, right there, right there.”

It still amazes you how his cock seems to find your g-spot as soon as he enters you, though you wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Yeah? Right there, hm? Or is it…” he trails off, shifting his hips ever so slightly, making you realise he’s actually hit the centre point of your g-spot now, his hard, unrelenting thrusts pushing you over the edge without warning.

“Oh my goooddd,” your eyes roll back, mouth hanging open against the cool shower wall, as your cunt keeps gripping him even though it’s already creaming around his cock.

“Good girl, keep going, love. Show me how many you can take tonight.”

There’s nothing you can do, not that you’d want to do anything other than let him rearrange your insides. Especially not when his tattooed hand finds its way from the back of your hair to your jaw, tilting your head to the side, giving you the perfect view of his upper body, rivulets of water cascading down his chiselled form, lips parted, eyebrows furrowed. 

He’s the epitome of perfection. Not just a ninety-nine percent but a hundred. 

His eyes, though hooded, bore into your soul as his hips pick up the pace. It’s this connection you share with him make being with him feel so special.

“Koo…”

“I know, love, just a bit more. Can you be a good girl?”

“Yes,” you moan, because hell, you can. “Yes, for you…ah, winning the trophy.”

Even though you shouldn’t feel his cock twitch with the pace he’s set, you do, realising instantly what he needs tonight.

“Best singer, Koo…fuck…best boyfriend, only fucking me when, hmm, the whole world wants a piece of you.”

“Only you. Always you, ___, love.” You think you catch him licking a drop of saliva from his lips as he stares down at where your bodies connect, sending another wave of arousal from your stretched-out hole.

“You’re so big.”

“Just for you, fuck, squeeze a bit more.”

It’s not that you did it on purpose, but when his hand shoots down to your clit, circling it just right, your body responds as though it’s never felt this good, soaking him even more and gripping him tight as a vice.

“Like that, love, like that.” Jungkook grunts and pants, holding you harder, tighter as his cock seems to swell even more, pumping frantically in sync with your impending second orgasm.

When Jungkook can’t hold back any longer, it’s all you need to let go too, the rush flowing through your veins just as fiercely as the love you feel for this man.

After some time, Jungkook pulls out, helping you straighten up and lean against his chest under the stream. His veiny hands trail down your body, washing away his release dripping out of you, as he plants kisses along the side of your face.

When he’s had enough, he, like always, turns you, brushing the wet strands of hair from your face. And as you do the same to him, captivated by how content and in love he looks, you can’t help but feel like the luckiest girl in the world when, for the first time, Jungkook declares his feelings.

“I love you, till the day I die, ___.”

“I love you too, and beyond.”

Because this, because having Jungkook calling you his, is beyond probability.

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

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[enderlovez]

No Germs Found

Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: You and the team are back in Arizona on another case, and when an amazing unfortunate mishap takes place at the front desk, everyone is forced to share rooms with each other.

Content Warning: non-sexual nudity, strong language in reference to the temperature, blushy Spence, mentions of heat stroke, pain from the heat, mentions of murder, slightly NSFW at the end, Spencer likes boobs- I MEAN WHO SAID THAT?

A/N This is kind of a continuation of another one of my works called Germs, but they don't necessarily need to be read side by side. There's only one mention of something that happened in the first part, and it's not really that important to the story, so...

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

None of you really anticipated being on another case so soon, at least not in the same place you'd just gotten home from a few days before, and the place you all seemed to... strongly dislike.

Maybe 'dislike' isn't the right word, but one thing is for sure — the moment you step foot off the jet, you feel like you're covered from head to toe in sweat, and your throat dried up like a fish in a desert.

Not to mention how you' were all stuck in a stuffy room all day, with crappy air conditioning that did absolutely nothing for anyone. So far you had practically nothing on the unsub, they were slippery as soap, and that stress — the stress of not knowing who they are, who they are going to kill next — has you in a very grumpy mood.

And despite the inconveniences, the day still somehow finds a way to get worse.

That much is clear as Hotch strolls up to our group of people with an annoyed look on his face — granted he almost always looks like that when we're having a hard time finding anything on the unsub.

"There was a malfunction in their system, and they overbooked their rooms," he says simply, only earning a choir of groans from us, "so we're going to have to double up tonight."

You throw your head back, a heavy sigh escaping your mouth. It's been a long day, and all you want is to lay around without your clothes on and go to sleep — but you can't exactly do that with someone else in there with you.

"You're free to pick your roommate yourself, but please, for the love of God, keep it professional," he finishes as he drops a small pile of numbered keys onto the little table in the reception.

Everyone immediately splits off into pairs, while you make no move to do anything, laying back on the armchair with your neck bent over the top, eyes closed against the white fluorescent lights.

"You know, frequent hyperextension of the neck can have negative effects on its structure and function," a familiar voice says from above you. "Around fifteen to twenty-five percent of North Americans experience lasting effects, such as chronic pain and nerve issues."

You peel your eyes open to find none other than the brilliant Spencer Reid standing over your head, dangling a key over your face, and just like that, all your apprehension melts away.

"Stop flirting with me, Spencer, it's incredibly unprofessional," you joke lightheartedly, a vibrant smile overtaking your face as you pluck the key from his fingers.

He doesn't seem to realize you're joking, though, because he immediately goes to defend himself, stuttering adorably and blushing firetruck red. "No, um, I wasn't — I would never flirt with you!" he tries to defend himself, only realizing a second later how it might've come off. "I-I mean I would, but that's not what I was trying to do."

You shake your head and laugh, standing from the armchair and threading your arm through his so you can lead him down the hallway towards the room you both would be staying in.

The room that was, technically, booked for only one person.

The room that only has one bed.

It's not like you don't want to share a bed with him, you're more worried that he might not want it, with his whole 'germ' thing. Not that he really seemed to care about that the other day, when he drank straight from your water bottle without a care in the world, then proceeded to ask you out on a date.

"I can sleep on the floor, if you'd like," he offers quietly as he shuts the door behind him.

You immediately dismiss that idea, shaking your head before the words are even fully out of his mouth. "You're not sleeping on the floor, Spencer, that's not fair," you say quickly, a sly smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "That is, as long as you're alright with me sleeping in my underwear, because I will be doing that."

Of course you're half-joking — if there's any indication that he's uncomfortable with that idea you'll just sleep in a t-shirt and shorts, it's just that you'd much rather not in this heat.

"N-no, no," he says, his voice pitched just a little too high. He's blushing from head to toe, you know that without even looking at him. "You can s-sleep in whatever you want to, I don't mind."

It's entirely unprofessional, you know that, but you really can't help it as you instantly begin tearing your sweat-drenched clothes from your body, tossing them around haphazardly until you're left in only your bra and underwear. You don't waste another second, flopping onto the bed, briefly stretching your limbs out, then rolling to one side.

It's a relief to be out of those clothes...

Only now do you realize that Spencer has not moved an inch from were he was standing when you initially asked the question, face bright red, breathing uneven as he tries desperately to keep his eyes from dipping from your face.

"Come on, I don't bite," you say quietly, patting the empty space on the other side of the bed, meanly deciding it would be funny to tease him, "not unless you ask very nicely."

Nervously, he drops his stuff beside the door and makes his way towards the bed, siting on the edge of his side. You're sure you can see him sneaking glances down at your chest every now and then, when he thinks you're not paying attention.

Who is he kidding? You're always paying attention to him, clinging onto every word he says like you'll die if you forget a single one.

"Come on, Spencer," you urge, "you've literally shared spit with me, don't get all shy now."

You're phrasing it that way as a joke, and you're sure he knows that.

But the next words that come out of his mouth leave you stunned, mouth dropped open and butterflies stampeding through your stomach, heart beating a million miles an hour.

You're not expecting something like this to come out of his mouth, really, but after his strange confidence the other day in drinking all your water and asking you out, you're not sure what to expect now.

"Can you please bite me, then?"

[inkskinned]

you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.

(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)

but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.

(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)

there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.

(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)

you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.

(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)

you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.

in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.

but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.

they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.

it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.

[writingsonsaturn]

Tim's fiancee gets arrested when a cop (let's say Lucy or someone) (this is after they are rookies) arrests her because she looks like a suspect they already caught, his fiancee told them she was engaged to Tim but they didn't believe her and Tim gets mad at the officer - <3

wrong place, wrong time - tim bradford

{ masterlist }

🪐: very sorry about how long its taken me to write, had a lot of stuff to do this week lol! this ones a little short <333

word count: 850

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Waking up with Tim being gone was normal, even after he had left the military his day continued to start at 6 am sharp. Although on weekends he would cut himself some slack to hold you until you were ready to get out of bed and begin with your various tasks you two needed to get done.

Today didn’t start off any different, waking up only a few hours after Tim had, at a ripe 8:30am.

Rubbing your eyes you flung your legs to your left, your warm feet chilling almost immediately at the cold wooden flooring of you and Tim’s shared bedroom. A shiver shot through your nerves and up your spine, you sighed lightly at the shift in temperature and made your departure to the bathroom.

The spring air seeped into the sunlit room, the fresh morning breeze filling your soul with flowers and bright colors. Music filled the house whilst you finished your morning routine making breakfast and feeding Kojo.

You started out your afternoon deciding to head to the local library, wanting to return a book you had borrowed before you were charged with a late fee. 

The library wasn’t full since it was the afternoon and school was still in session, “hello! i’m here to return a book” you said in a chipper but quiet tone. The librarian smiled and took the book, checking it back into the system and sending you on your way.

Your next stop was a supermarket, you had only a handful of items that were needed. Tim had run out of coffee filters this morning and you needed more shampoo, you also opted to get a new water bowl for Kojo, not that he needed one, you just thought it was cute.

As you walked out to your car you were stopped with a taser pointed directly at your torso, “get on your knees with your hands up!” a woman yelled.

Your confused manor caused your reaction to be delayed, causing the police officer to yell once again. “Get down on the ground with your hands up, now!” you immediately get down to your knees and put your shaking hands up. 

“You got the wrong person, I swear! Call Tim Bradford, he's my Fiancé!” you pleaded, the cop with the name ‘Chen’ on her shirt just scoffed and laughed you off while stuffing you in the back of her squad car.

The ride to the precinct was uncomfortable, the cuffs were digging into the skin of your wrists. “Officer please, I'm not whoever you think I am. All you have to do is call Bradford, he’ll tell you exactly what I'm telling you know” you tried to plead your case once again, but it fell on deaf ears.

“Tim doesn’t have a fiancé, he was my T.O, i think i would know a big detail like him having a girlfriend” she laughed, feeling as though it was ridiculous to even entertain your words.

As you were brought into the station to get your picture taken and be put into holding, Chen passed you onto another officer and went to tell Grey about her catch. 

To Lucy’s surprise everyone had already been packing up the evidence and started paperwork, “what’s going on?” Lucy questioned, “we caught the killer, she was at her parents place shooting up when we got there” Tim explained. Lucy was confused, “so if you caught the killer, who do i have in holding?” the question hung in the air, Tim looking at her with perplexed eyes.

Lucy walked Tim over to holding and that’s where Tim saw you, “oh thank god!” you exclaimed seeing Tim. He hurried over to you taking your cuffs off and waving off the other officers. “Chen, why is my fiancé sitting here in cuffs?” Tim sternly asks, Lucy looks down, stuttering and trying to explain herself.

“Tim it’s fine, she was just doing her job” you did your best to defend Lucy, “No y/n, this is not okay, if it had been anyone else this would be a lawsuit” he turned his body at you but his tone was directed at Lucy.

“Tim i’m sorry, I didn’t know we had already caught the suspect and she looked exactly like our suspect” Lucy tried to explain, stumbling over her words.

“You are going to go to Grey and explain everything, lucky for you, y/n isn’t going to file a report against you” Tim assigned Lucy, to which she scurried away. “Are you okay? oh christ your wrists,” his questions and concerns came at you with speed.

“Tim, baby, I'm okay,” you smiled trying to calm him down. Tim held your wrists in his hands, and kissed them. He hoped his love would be enough to soothe your angry red skin, “i’m sorry, this shouldn’t have happened” he persisted. 

You shut him up with a kiss, “drive me to go pick up my car” your smile made him relax. “Yes ma’am” he laughed, telling Grey where he was going, and walking out hand in hand with you, still profusely apologizing.

[drdemonprince]

ok fine cis men aren't the bad gender it's all men and we're all exactly like that anon who admitted to having abused women even if we don't know it. are you fucking happy now? is this the solidarity you want us to feel with cis men, that we're all just as mich rapists and murderers of women as they are? you have some fucking nerve to be throwing vague jabs while calling an admitted abuser "brave"

Normally I don't platform asks like these, but I'm moved by the genuineness of your emotional reaction here. I think you're hurting, and you've been hurt, and that the belief that abuse and violence are located within one gendered group (to which you don't belong) has felt like a way of organizing your world that has helped you make sense of things, and given you guidelines for how to act and whom to trust that have helped keep you safe. I think a lot of assault survivors feel that way when they're not cis men and their attackers were cis men.

As someone who has experienced a ton of sexual predation at the hands of cis women, cis men, and even other trans people, I don't feel the same way. There is no "bad gender" I can chalk up my abuse to. I find there are no easy means of categorizing entire people as abuser or as victim either -- I have known so, so many people who have occupied both roles depending upon the power they wielded and the social context of the moment. Hell, one cis lesbian that I knew who was infamous in her community for raping trans men would always tell her victims that her acts were those of "trauma recovery," of her "reclaiming" her power after men had stolen it away.

Even she, I don't think, is irredeemable or ontologically evil.

I'm an abolitionist. That's a core value through which a lot of my political action and beliefs flow. If you're not on board with the project of abolitionism, you'll find much to object to here, and most of your objections are things I will refuse to entertain, because I do not believe human beings are disposable no matter what they do, and I don't believe that anyone should have the authority to deem another human being as disposable.

An abolitionist politics is incompatible with the idea that some people or some groups are inherently bad. It's incompatible with the belief that abuse and violence comes from evil. It's a worldview that holds that people do harm because of social structures and networks of power that must be destroyed -- systems like the patriarchy, cissexism, anti-Blackness, ableism, capitalism, and more. And I think one of the ways that we conquer such oppressive systems is by raising the consciousness of all the people trapped under it -- so that we can topple it together. I want trans men and cis men alike to realize they have some skin in the game.

You don't have to associate with the men you don't want to associate with. If, because of repeated abuses at the hands of men, you can't ever trust them, well, those are your feelings, that's your life, that is your business. But when your personal feelings of safety are used as a justification for developing and promoting a worldview with transphobic, transmisogynistic implications, I'm gonna talk shit about that on my stupid little blog. And I'm gonna continue conducting my life in the way I feel I should.

And for me, that means forging common ground between trans men and cis men, and pushing both groups to take women's concerns seriously (especially trans women's concerns) and to stop centering themselves in feminist dialogue. There's a place for both trans men and cis men in the gender revolution, but we gotta do a lot of work on ourselves to stop getting in the way. It's work I'm emotionally equipped to do and find rewarding, and it's fine if you don't. There are lots of other people who need support that you can focus your energies on -- other survivors of abuse and assault that you perhaps find it easier to relate to. That's important work too, and I wish you well in doing it. Just make sure you're not excluding trans women in that work or I'll continue to be annoying about it on my stupid little blog.

[writingoddess1125]

Ive Fallen

The moment they fell in love with you~

Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk x GN Reader

Please support me on Ko-Fi I'd like to pay rent 👍🏽

Luffy

It was the moment you had made him his favorite meal and said the magic words-

"Hey Luffy welcome back!" You say cheerfully as you set down a plate for a customer. Your regular Luffy coming in for his normal mountain of food-

"Hey (Y/N)!" He said cheerfully as he set himself on his normal bench. You already having his glass of milk poured as you set it before him and got his plate consisting of his favorite items you had already made ahead of time.

"I saw you were getting your boat ready to set sail"

"I got to get everything going for when im pirate king!" He said loudly, taking a hefty bite of his food. You smiled, always loving his optimistic ways.

"Well, I believe in you Luffy. If there is anyone who will become king of the pirates its you" You say cheerfully and give him a smile.

Luffy felt his heart beating like a drum and warmth developed his body. Like your words had kicked his heart into action-

"Oop let me go refill Mr. Yamos drinks" You say cheerfully as you go to continue your work, Luffys eyes following you.

Had you always looked this pretty?

Zoro

When he saw you training

Zoro was.. well lost- He had needed to use the restroom when the ship made port and it was like he made one turn and suddently his was in a deep forest.

Fuck-

So Zoro went to make his way back, unknowingly getting himself more and more lost.

Stumbling through a clearing he stopped when he saw you- standing there practicing formation and swings with your sword- So beautiful and powerful, he couldn't help but be mesmerized.

Standing there watching from the trees he couldn't help but feel some warmth come to his cheeks, finally working the will to approach.

"Need a sparing partner?" He offered as he stepped forward.

Sanji

When he saw you baking and trying the food some kids had made for you

They had made port to restock supplies, in his case get more groceries since Luffy ate enough for 5 men. Walking through the streets of the village he smelled the sweets before he saw you- in the window letting out trays of freshly baked treats with a smile on your lips.

Your smile drew him to stop midstep and watch. A few young children running past him to the shop as they held up their treats to you-

He saw the pastry even from here he could see it was burned and most likely raw in the center, the thick layer of flower on the bottom no better then cement. Any person with a pallet wouldn't be able to swallow it- not even Luffy. However you smiled and took a big bite of the pastry and swallowed.

Smiling at the child and praising them on doing so well- Sanji felt his chest tughten and warmth unlike his normal attraction bubble in his system, his feet moving faster then his mind as he approached your bakery.

Buggy

When he saw you perform for the first time

Buggy had stopped by a village during a festival, Normally he would have just raided the place but he had a soft spot for festivals like this- So for now the village was spared.

Especially since they had one hell of a hot dog stand which he gladly took part in. While standing there eating his treat he turned to see the grand bonfire that was being set up as music started to be played, everyone starting to gather and dance- And then he saw you.

Singing and dancing along to the music as you stole the show, twirling around the fire with others as your clothes seemed to highly glow next to the light of the bonfire making you look like a living star.

Buggy felt Hypnotized as he watched you, The way you sang, dance and your overall grace.

He had never wanted to see another person perform so badly in his life, a warmth Flooding his face and chest as he watched you laugh and walk away to get a drink. Standing up to follow and work up the nerve to speak with you.

Shanks

When he heard you singing while gardening

Ah to he back at his favorite bar

He stepped out to get some fresh air, the warmth of the sun hitting his skin and making him feel energized. His train of thought was broken however as he heard singjng?- this wasn't a area that had a choir or anything like that so it caught his interest following the song to behind the bar.

Turning around the corner he spotted you, on your knees in the herb garden thay grew next to the restaurant gathering things needed for drunks and food.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from you as your voice washed through him- you looked so damn cute, paired with your singing it just made his chest squeeze at the sight.

"You have a beautiful voice" He said softly before giving you a sly smile, seeing you turn back to him and blush at being caught.

Mihawk

When you were sitting by the fireplace reading

Mihawk had arrived in a sleepy village, going to the nearest inn for the night to rest. Typically he would have just camped outside but the flash flood pouring over the village said otherwise-

Entering he spotted you right away, seated infront of the fire with a book. Normally he wouldn't bother glancing at such a sight but in truth he couldn't turn away.

You just looked so elegant? Seated so perfectly infront of that grand fireplace in comforble warm clothes, a cup of tea next to you and eyes focused only on the written word.

"Sir would you like a room?" The old women snapping him from his thoughts as he quickly nodded and paid for the room. Deciding it was best to just approach.

"What are you reading?" He asked, watching your eyes travel up to meet his and giving him a gentle smile as you tell him about the book series you were reading and offering him to read the first edition since you'd already completed it.

He accepts and sits at the chair across from you- A comforble relaxes feeling washing through him at this and he couldn't help but let his eyes fall in you.

Lovely

[ponderingmoonlight]

For the surprise fic- Geto answers the door to see the reader covered in blood… that’s not their’s. “Help me”

Suguru sighs to himself, tired legs carrying him to answer the door. Who on earth is this? Did Satoru decide show up again? No, he's on a mission. But who...? He swallows. There's only one person apart from his best friend who visits him this late at night.

He opens the door.

Only to get greeted by you.

You, completely covered in blood.

Geto's eyes widen in sheer horror. This looks bad, absolutely horrible. If half of that blood is yours...

"What happened to you?", he cries out in disbelief, dragging you into his apartment before you're even able to reply.

"Hey, mind to help me out a little?"

He isn't sure what his feelings are trying to tell him. Does he love you, hate you? Oh, at the moment it's definitely both.

"Please tell me this doesn't belong to you-"

"Nah, most of it doesn't", you reply with a slight grin.

Until he grabs your injured arm and sends a wave of scorching pain down your nerve system.

"But some does", you press out.

"I told you over and over to watch out, (y/n)! You could have been killed, why do you have to act so reckless!? Why didn't you see Shoko?"

He grabs a clean towel, soaks it in water and starts cleaning you up like the countless times before.

"Maybe I just need an excuse to show up at your doorstep."

"Come on, you don't need an excuse for that...", he mumbles, brown eyes fixated on the wound covering your arm.

With skilled motions, he frees all visible parts of your skin from crusty blood and inspects your bruises.

"What was it this time?"

"Special grade, had to watch out for the kids."

"Nanami isn't a kid."

"But it annoys the hell out of him when I call him that."

He hates the way a gentle smile creeps up his features, that he isn't even able to stay mad at you for longer than a few minutes.

"Thank you for taking care of me, Suguru", you add so gently that he almost trips over you, heart banging violently against his ribcage.

"Okay, I'm gonna get naked now."

"Naked?"

"Yeah, I mean I have to wash myself."

"Wait, I'll leave WHY DID YOU JUST TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT-"

[prentissluvr]

campus library, 7:00 a.m. — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, stanford!era, unedited, 658 words. requested ! for my 800 followers event [ closed ] .

summary : a nervous first year (sam) asks the cute libary worker (you) for help printing and accidentally develops a crush on the first day of classes.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

it’s a good thing for the library patrons that you’re in a particularly pleasant mood, which is a rare occurrence at seven a.m., especially on the first day of a new semester. the poor first years are stressed. you’re leisurely as you walk behind the circulation desk, setting your bag down by the chair and settling there with your laptop. it only takes about a second for someone to approach, holding his own laptop in nervous hands.

he does a pretty good jop of hiding that he’s nervous, but it’s clear to you that he feels out of place and maybe even a little lost.

“hi,” you greet him with a smile, inviting him closer and encouraging him to ask for whatever help he needs when he hesitates.

“hi.” he gives a tight lipped smile back, relaxing just a touch. “could you maybe help me with printing something, or…?” he’s clearly unsure if you’re the right person to ask. that’s a classic question, and one that further confirms your suspicions that he’s a first year. (though once you helped a junior print for the first time as a first year yourself last spring semester).

“absolutely!” you confirm, keeping the friendly smile on your face to hopefully put him at ease. “have you been able to connect your computer to the printers at all yet?” you’re pretty sure you know the answer, but ask anyway.

the student, who’s taller than he looks, all folded in on himself, shakes his head sheepishly. “i’m stuck there,” he explains.

“that’s alright. here,” you nod your head towards the nearest printer, standing up and leading him over. he follows, laptop cradled in his big hands. “do you mind?” you ask, hands hovering over the touchpad when he sets it down on the table.

“no, no, of course not. go ahead.” he gives you quick permission to touch his computer, and you spend the next minute explaining and showing him how to connect to the printer. in the system settings, you catch his name. maybe you’re a little curious about him. sam winchester.

he makes the attempt to print out the syllabus for a political science class. and, as often happens, it doesn’t work.

“the printers here sort of suck,” you explain quickly, so that he doesn’t feel bad or more nervous. “sometimes it’s because you’re using a personal computer. unfortunately, i don’t know how to fix that issue, but the tech services desk opens at eight and should be able to help you! if you need to print now, you can head to the computer lab, sign in with your stanford email and password, then select the same printer that i showed you.”

“okay,” he sighs out. “thank you so much,” he says sincerely, looking relieved that there’s a second solution. 

“of course,” you smile, then walk off back to your seat as he heads for the computer lab. about a minute later, he returns, looking slightly embarrassed. it turns out that he still can’t quite get it to work. he’s very apologetic for bothering you, but you assure him quickly and easily that it’s no problem at all. he’s so kind and frankly, cute, so you have no qualms with helping him.

the syllabus prints, and he thanks you several times. each time, you assure him that it’s no problem, that you’re happy to help. something about him makes you want to ease his nerves. you hope that your adamant kindness makes a good impression for his first day.

it must have at least a little, because you see him in the library often. then, you see his name in the list of new hires for the library this semester. the next time you meet him is the day that your boss asks you to show him how to shelve books and take inventory. you work together once a week. he’s easily your favorite coworker, and you’re pretty sure that you’re his.

[covid-safer-hotties]

The next pandemic is inevitable. Australia isn’t ready - Published Sept 23, 2024

(Before you Americans yell at me, It's already the 23rd in Australia. This is very late-breaking)

I thought this was a really good breakdown of the current situation given the government-approved covid denial we live in. Long, but worth a read.

By Kate Aubusson and Mary Ward

Top infectious disease and public health veterans at the nerve centre of the state’s war against COVID-19 are sounding the alarm.

NSW is less prepared today to fend off a deadly pandemic despite the lessons of COVID-19, say top infectious disease and public health veterans at the nerve centre of the state’s war against the virus.

And we won’t have another hundred years to wait.

NSW’s gold standard Test-Trace-Isolate-Quarantine and vaccination strategies will be useless if a distrusting population rejects directives, refuses to give up its freedoms again, and the goodwill of shell-shocked public health workers dries up.

A panel of experts convened by The Sydney Morning Herald called for a pandemic combat agency akin to the armed forces or fire brigades to commit to greater transparency or risk being caught off guard by the next virulent pathogen and misinformation with the potential to spread faster than any virus.

“It’s inevitable,” says Professor Eddie Holmes of the next pandemic. A world-leading authority on the emergence of infectious diseases at the University of Sydney, Holmes predicts: “We’ll have less than 100 years [before the next pandemic].

“We’re seeing a lot of new coronaviruses that are spilling over into animals that humans are interacting with,” said Holmes, the first person to publish the coronavirus genome sequence for the world to see.

“People are exposed all the time, and each time we are rolling the dice.”

The independent review of NSW Health’s response to COVID-19 opened with the same warning: “No health system or community will have the luxury of 100 years of downtime.”

Pandemic preparedness needs to be a “permanent priority”, wrote the report’s author, Robyn Kruk, a former NSW Health secretary, “rather than following the path of those that have adopted a ‘panic and forget strategy,’ allowing system preparedness to wane”.

Why we don’t have 100 years to wait for the next pandemic The World Health Organisation has declared seven public health emergencies of international concern since 2014, including the current mpox outbreak.

Climate change is turbocharging the factors that coalesce to create the perfect breeding ground for a pandemic-causing virus, including population increases, bigger cities, and better-connected global markets and migration.

“Animals will be forced into more constrained environments, and humans that rely on those environments will be again constrained in the same environments. There will be more wet markets, more live animal trade that will just increase exposure,” Holmes said.

“It was clear that we weren’t ready [for COVID],” said Jennie Musto, who, after seven years working for the World Health Organisation overseas, became NSW Health’s operations manager for the Public Health Emergency Operations Centre, the team responsible for NSW’s COVID-19 contact tracing and containment.

“Everyone had preparedness plans gathering dust on a shelf, but no one was actually ready to respond, and so everyone was on the back foot,” Musto said. “Perhaps none of us really thought this was going to happen. We were waiting 500 years.”

Who would willingly become the next doomed whistleblower? Eddie Holmes, known for his repeated assertion that SARS-CoV-2 did not come from a lab, is deeply concerned that when the next pandemic-causing virus emerges, chances are it will be covered up.

“My worry is that if the virus appeared in a small population, say, somewhere in Southeast Asia, the people involved wouldn’t blow the whistle now, given the fact that you would get blamed,” he said.

Li Wenliang, the Wuhan doctor who tried to raise the alarm about a virulent new virus, was reportedly reprimanded by police for spreading rumours and later died of COVID-19.

The global blame game, culminating in a deep distrust of China and accusations that the virus was grown in a Wuhan lab, is why Holmes believes “we’re in no better place than we were before COVID started, if not worse”.

“I work with a lot of people in China trying to keep the lines of communication open, and they’re scared, I think, or nervous about saying things that are perceived to counter national interest.”

From a vaccine perspective, our defences look strong. There have been monumental advancements in vaccine development globally, driven by mRNA technology. In Sydney this month, construction began on an RNA vaccine research and manufacturing facility.

“But the way I see it is that nothing has been done in terms of animal surveillance of outbreaks or data sharing. The [global] politics has got much, much worse,” Holmes said.

Combat force Conjoint Associate Professor Craig Dalton, a leading public health physician and clinical epidemiologist, called for a dramatic expansion of the public health workforce and the establishment of a pandemic combat force that would routinely run real-time pandemic simulations during “peacetime”.

“No one is upset with fire brigades spending most of the time not fighting fires. They train. A lot. And that’s probably how we need to move,” he said.

“We need exercise training units so that every major player in pandemic response is involved in a real-time, three to four-day pandemic response every three to five years at national, state and local [levels].”

The federal Department of Health and Aged Care recently ran a health emergency exercise focused on governance arrangements involving chief health officers and senior health emergency management officials, a spokeswoman for Health Minister Mark Butler said. The outcomes of this exercise will be tested later this year.

Dalton said desktop simulations and high-level exercises involving a handful of chiefs didn’t cut it, considering the thousands of people working across regions and states. He instead suggested an intensive training program run in the Hunter New England region before the 2009 H1N1 pandemic provided a good model.

“We were ringing people, actors were getting injections, just like a real pandemic,” said Dalton, who once ordered a burrito in a last-ditch effort to contact a restaurant exposed to COVID-19.

Our heroes have had it The expert panel was emphatic that our pandemic response cannot once again rely on the goodwill of the public health and healthcare workforce.

According to the Kruk review, what began as an emergency response ultimately morphed from a sprint into an ultra marathon and “an admirable (yet unsustainable) ‘whatever it takes’ mindset”.

They were hailed as heroes, but the toll of COVID-19 on healthcare workers was brutal. Workloads were untenable, the risk of transmission was constant, and the risk of violence and aggression (for simply wearing their scrubs on public transport in some cases) was terrifying.

“We got through this pandemic through a lot of people working ridiculous hours,” Dalton said.

“You talk to a lot of people who did that and say they could not do it again.”

Tellingly, several expert personnel who worked at the front lines or in the control centre of NSW’s pandemic defences were invited to join the Herald’s forum but declined. Revisiting this period of intense public scrutiny, culminating in online attacks and physical threats, was just too painful.

So long, solidarity Arguably, the biggest threat to our pandemic defences will be the absence of our greatest strength during COVID: the population’s solidarity and willingness to follow public health orders even when it meant forfeiting fundamental freedoms.

The public largely complied with statewide public health orders, including the stay-at-home directive that became the 107-day Delta lockdown, and other severe restrictions prevented many from being at the bedside of their dying loved ones, visiting relatives in aged care homes and attending funerals.

“My worry is that next time around when those sorts of rules come out, people may say, ‘Well, don’t worry about it.’ They relax it in the future. Why don’t we just not stick to the rules?” said Professor Nicholas Wood, associate director of clinical research and services at the National Centre for Immunisation Research and Surveillance.

“I’m not sure we quite understand whether people [will be] happy with those rules again,” he said.

Dalton was more strident.

“I tend to agree with Michael Osterholm … an eminent US epidemiologist [who] recently said the US is probably less prepared for a pandemic now than it was in 2019, mostly because the learnings by health departments in the COVID pandemic may not make a material difference if faced with a community that distrusts its public health agencies,” he said.

“If H1N1 or something else were to spill over in the next couple of years, things like masks, social distancing and lockdowns would not be acceptable. Vaccination would be rejected by a huge part of the population, and politicians might be shy about putting mandates in.”

As for the total shutdown of major industries, people will struggle to accept it unless the next pandemic poses a greater threat than COVID, said UNSW applied mathematician Professor James Wood.

The risk of the virus to individuals and their families will be weighed against the negative effects of restrictions, which are much better understood today, said Wood, whose modelling of the impact of cases and vaccination rates was used by NSW Health.

“Something like school closure would be a much tougher argument with a similar pathogen,” he said.

A previous panel of education experts convened by the Herald to interrogate pandemic decision-making in that sector was highly critical of the decision to close schools for months during NSW’s Delta lockdown.

Greg Dore, professor of infectious diseases and epidemiology at the Kirby Institute, said the public’s reluctance to adhere to restrictions again may, in part, be appropriate.

“Some of the restrictions on people leaving the country were a bit feudal and too punitive,” he said. “Other restrictions were plain stupid, [for instance] limitations on time exercising outside.”

Meanwhile, the delays to publicly recognise the benefits of face masks and the threat of airborne transmission “ate away at trust”, Dalton said.

“We shouldn’t make those mistakes again,” he said.

Transparent transgressions Uncertainty is not something politicians are adept at communicating, but uncertainty is the only constant during a pandemic of a novel virus.

Vaccines that offered potent protection against early iterations of the COVID virus were less effective against Omicron variants.

“[The public], unfortunately, got hit by a rapid sequence of changes of what was ‘true’ in the pandemic,” James Wood said.

Political distrust can be deadly if governments give the public reason to suspect they are obfuscating.

The expert panel urged NSW’s political leaders to be far more transparent about the public health advice they were given before unilaterally enforcing restrictions.

There was a clear line between public health advice and political decision-making in Victoria. The Victorian chief health officer’s written advice was routinely published online.

In NSW, that line was blurred as Chief Health Officer Kerry Chant stood beside political leaders, most notably former premier Gladys Berejiklian, at the daily press conferences.

Public health experts said that they looked for subtle cues to determine the distinction between the expert advice and the political messaging during press conferences, paying attention to body language, who spoke when and who stayed silent.

“It is fine for public health personnel to have a different view to politicians. They have different jobs. What is not OK is to have politicians saying they are acting on public health advice [when they are not],” he said.

The ‘whys’ behind the decisions being made were missing from the daily press conferences, which created “a vacuum for misinformation”, said social scientist and public health expert Professor Julie Leask at the University of Sydney.

“The communication about what you need to do came out, and it was pretty good … but the ‘why we’re doing this’ and ‘what trade-offs we’ve considered’ and ‘what dilemmas we’ve faced in making this decision’; that was not shared,” Leask said.

The infodemic In the absence of transparency, misinformation and disinformation fill the vacuum.

“We had an ‘infodemic’ during the pandemic,” said Dr Jocelyne Basseal, who worked on the COVID-19 response for WHO in the Western Pacific and leads strategic development at the Sydney Infectious Diseases Institute, University of Sydney.

“The public has been so confused. Where do we go for trusted information [when] everyone can now write absolutely anything, whether on Twitter [now called X] or [elsewhere] on the web?” Basseal said.

A systematic review conducted by WHO found misinformation on social media accounted for up to 51 per cent of posts about vaccines, 29 per cent of posts about COVID-19 and 60 per cent of posts about pandemics.

Basseal’s teenage children recently asked whether they were going into lockdown after TikTok videos about the mpox outbreak.

“There is a lot of work to be done now, in ‘peacetime’ … to get ahead of misinformation,” Basseal said, including fortifying relationships with community groups and teaching scientists – trusted and credible sources of information – how to work with media.

In addition to the Kruk review’s six recommendations to improve its pandemic preparedness, NSW Health undertook a second inquiry into its public health response to COVID-19, which made 104 recommendations.

NSW Health Minister Ryan Park said: “We are working hard to ensure the findings and recommendations from those reports are being implemented as quickly as possible.”

The expert panellists spoke in their capacity as academics and not on behalf of NSW Health or WHO.

The ‘As One System’ review into NSW Health’s COVID-19 response made six recommendations 1. Make governance and decision-making structures clearer, inclusive, and more widely understood 2. Strengthen co-ordination, communication, engagement, and collaboration 3. Enhance the speed, transparency, accuracy, and practicality of data and information sharing 4. Prioritise the needs of vulnerable people and communities most at risk, impacted and in need from day one 5. Put communities at the centre of emergency governance, planning, preparedness, and response 6. Recognise, develop and sustain workforce health, wellbeing, capability and agility.

[mozzaicynth]

one thought everyday and its just the amazing world of gumball especially these three freaks (doodles + some headcanons below :3)

mr small -

my interpretation of small becoming more mellowed out in the future seasons as opposed to season 1 is him managing his anger in a more healthier way (meditation, etc) (plus i think all those herbal infusions are incredibly effective on the nerves) . that being said i think he still has underlying anger issues and lashes out if prompted too much . another reason hes nicer and more of a pushover in the later seasons is because i like to think hes guilty of his plethora of outbursts earlier on, especially towards students (unwarranted shouting which as a school counsellor he should know is pretty harmful on younger kids) . the fact that he tries to offer his help when its absolutely not needed so many times later on in the show further makes me like to think he’s making up for it all

hes also so autistic to me hes on the spectrum you cant tell me otherwise and i think hes pretty awkward and considered strange by the whole town (which is saying a lot for elmore standards) . still super friendly and approachable but he also cant take hints and he definitely stims (and has special interests, alternative medicine are you kidding)

his music taste i love to think is all over the place … i get the general consensus is he listens to mystic chants and sitar music but he definitely listens to more, ranging from pop to indie to rock to metal (this may or may not have become an idea when i was listening to ‘darts by soad and associated it with him,) . also what with his stupid little self funded album that is such a jarring listen ‘cause of all the ridiculous genre changes

i think he crochets/macrames as a hobby along with other diy stuff (most of the decorative items in his home crafted by him) making him, surprisingly considering how incompetent he is sometimes, super crafty/handy .

larry -

larry is a great person: incredibly intelligent, he’s very knowledgable on a plethora of subjects and he has a big heart, holding little to no virtriol against the people of elmore (except the wattersons but that is SO warranted) . thus i like to imagine he did great in school, moved on to do so wonderfully in uni whilst juggling jobs and his studies but after graduation was left stuck (alike so many people nowadays) . neither small or larry came from well off families but i think for larry he didn’t have much of a support system anyway so currently he overworks and works and works just to catch up on the student debt whilst simultaneously paying his taxes (i still think about that episode all the time fuck the police . big pink son of a bitch), loans and not to mention the bare minimum to keep himself alive

he’s a very sweet and kind person but anyone under the immense stress that he’s under would be irritable and temperate (he deserves to be more angry imo) and i whilst he has so many jobs he always aims to excel at all of them, having an incredibly particular way that tasks must be done and having them organised . because of this, he can be a lot more temperate when interacting with coworkers, especially those who don’t do their job as well, having to take matters into his own hands . as he and karen (his girlfriend throughout the series) share some jobs it puts a strain on their relationship (which was built off of the mutual ‘having several jobs’) and they break up .

even so, though larry consistently tries to propose to her in the show, in “the laziest” he doesn’t seem to be happy nor comfortable at all with the prospects of marrying her . in fact, even when he’s achieved the ‘american dream’ (properties like a house and car and a family (his girlfriend soon to be wife)) he’s unhappy . personally i don’t think he knows what he wants to do with himself ; he works all day and night and has little to no time for himself to even think in peace that the only purpose he knows is work .

i like to think he used to be an artist; self taught, it was a hobby and an enjoyment but his studies and his work took over so his one form of self expression was squeezed out of his life .. (i like making their lives as bleak as possible soz ! 🙏) he still admires the arts and i think that’s another reason he likes steve so much; his handcrafts and mini projects .

steve and larry are two opposites that are similar in ways .. but i love their dynamic so much . my interpretation of them is that steve will help larry balance out his life slightly better to leave room for himself instead of working 24/7 . steve has his head in the clouds and larry grounds him, and larry is so stuck in his ways with work that steve pulls him out of it slightly, lifting him up a little higher (AUGHHHGHH I HATE THEM I HATE THEM

as for their relationship with rob, im very much a stevelmeyer adoption truther !! both larry and steve coming from dysfunctional families, they aim to help rob and take care of him to the best of their abilities . further, larry taking on taking care of rob gives him direction in his life again . 😁😁😁😁😁😁

this isnt gonna be the last post headcanon/idea wise i still think of them 24/7 but heres jus SOME things .. (im such a yapper sprry not sorry !) :3c

[gghostwriter]

I feel terrible for asking when your requests are closed bur Holy shit this is my real life and I need some loving.

I have a court case soon about putting a p*do in jail that I dobbed in, I'd live to have the team with me in court. I don't have to talk on the stand since he's already pled guilty but if we don't have a hang judge he'll most likely get home detention and on the Registry. My friends and I are hoping for jail bur yeah, I'd love to have the team soothing my anxieties as he doesn't know it was me that dobbed him in (I met him once) I need some loving and reassurance. Like I'm glad I got him done in but still seeing it go down I'm just messed up

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff and comfort Word Count: 0.9k A/N: Anon, I hope this brings you comfort! I also want to personally say that you did the right thing and I know it took a lot of courage to report that sick sick man to the authorities and I’m so proud of you. Do let me know the outcome of the trial and I’m hoping the case was assigned to a hang judge for harsh punishment. Main masterlist

Sentencing. // Spencer Reid

You dreaded to be here. Here being standing outside the judiciary building as the reason why burdened your chest like a twenty tonne weight making it hard to breathe. The anxiety was wafting out of you in waves—you wanted to vomit or pass out or both from the idea that there’s a fifty percent chance of justice not being serve. The numbers were wrong, you knew, but you were not your genius boyfriend who can chatter off the correct statistics based on government reports. You were just you—a regular civilian who took the courage to report a crime and do stand up for the victim. Spencer was proud of you and the grit it took to stand up for another specially for the young but here, right now, you felt anything but brave. 

A hand slid into yours, making you jump in fright.

“Spence?” You questioned your sanity then. It was a weekend and although that meant no work for him, his phone had rang and the both of you parted ways at the subway, him going to Quantico and you going to the court trial. So the idea that he was here, standing beside you seemed too ludicrous. A figment of your strained imagination possibly before his cedar wood perfume registered in your mind. “Are you real—I mean, what are you doing here?” 

He squeezed your hand. “I called back Hotch and he convinced Strauss to give the case to the other team. You’ve been nervous for the past few days, picking on your nails—” bringing up your hand to see the nail beds dry and pink “—biting on your lips—” touching them as he observed the faint teeth marks “—and not being able to focus—” pushing away a stray lock of hair that escaped your haphazardly tied bun. “—I want to be here for you and remind you that you did the right thing.”

“I know that. It’s just—what if the judge assigned to the case doesn’t give a harsh sentence? What if he just gets registered as a sex offender and walks?” 

“According to the statistics, 87% of convicted rapists are incarcerated while 13% receive a probation sentence. Pedophilia is also widely considered as one of the most egregious crimes by the system and the fact that he has already pled guilty gives a higher chance of imprisonment,” he rattled off as his own way of comfort. 

For some, the daunting two digit number minority seemed big, and it is, but you trusted his insight especially knowing his own experiences in the field of protecting the weak and capturing the sick.

The numbers had it’s desired effect, lifting a bit off the weight dragging you down. You pressed your lips together and took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go.” 

He squeezed your hand three more times—a silent communication between you two that meant I love you as he pulled you in the assigned court room. 

You occupied the last few rows, noting the family members of the victim also in attendance and although Spencer had calmed a bit of your nerves, each tick of the clock mixed with the palpable tension in the confined space had you shaking your knee in agitation. All of this combined made you unaware of the multiple presences that slid behind your bench. It took Spencer letting go of your hand and turning his head to bring you back to the present.

You swiveled, curious as to what had caught his attention, and breathed a sigh of relief.

It was the rest of the team.

Hotch reached out to squeeze your shoulder while Dave did the same on the other. Derek and Emily gave you a nod of encouragement and sweet smiles from JJ and Penelope.  It made you want to tear up to feel such love, support, and reassurance from Spencer’s chosen family. 

Unsure on how to put your gratitude into words, you gave a brief smile before turning back to the front as the judge entered the bench.

Bang.

Bang. 

The gavel echoed, effectively silencing any chatter of the audience.

Court was officially in session. 

———

The twenty tonne weight that sat on your chest lifted as the judge sentenced the accused to fourteen years in prison with no chance of parole. The scene of each family members of the victim crying and hugging each other in elation and relief made the steps you took worth it. Children deserved to hold on to their innocence for as long as they could and they warrant the protection from any concerned adult and the system.

Stray tears escaped the confines of your eyes as Spencer placed a kiss on your forehead before leading you out of the building, all decorated agents in tow.

“Hey Rossi, we should have dinner at your house to celebrate,” Emily cheekily suggested once everyone was out on the steps. The same steps you were hyperventilating on a few hours ago.

Dave scoffed. “Fist of all, it’s a mansion and second of all, what is it with this team inviting themselves over?” 

Derek laughed. “Aw c’mon man, we know you’d love to host us. JJ can bring Will and the kids and Hotch can bring Jack. It’ll be fun plus Y/N—” nodding in your direction “—deserves a good Italian dinner after all of this, don’t you think?”

Dave took note off all the members nodding their heads in agreement before sighing. “Fine, I’ll whip us up some Bolognese pasta, our Bambina’s favorite over here. Come by at 7pm sharp or else I’m locking the gates.” 

Everyone cheered and soon parted ways, promising to see each other later on, leaving you and Spencer leisurely walking to the subway station.

He squeezed your hand again three times and smiled. “You make me so proud of you. So so proud.” 

“Thank you for being there with me Spencer,” you squeeze in return. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anything for you, love. Anything at all.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[pinkchrissysposts]

VOID CHALLENGE ᥫ᭡

(This challenge will take atleast 2 weeks don't walk away just because it's two week 2,I have got alot of asks from anons who want to enter void or manifest but have adhd let's start~~)

🧁The challenge>>

•. Regulating nervous system aka your vagus nerves.

So what is vagus nerves??? It is the parasympathetic nerves that is longest nerves in our body. It through our brain to large intestine,they carry out messages to our brain so to calm to thoughts that give us anxiety we have to regulate them.

My favorite way regulate to regulate is massaging my thorax point because my chest hurts alot when I get anxious and anxiety.

This video really helped me because I never really got this type of relief from chest pain when u used to get anxiety.

Another way to regulate is humming,or gargling,cold exposure like,ice bath,cold shower.

So guys when ever you get anxiety do once of these exercise atleast 4 times if possible or if you are a very anxious person.

•. Pink noises:

Ofc couldn't forget this one you have to use it after a proper nervous system regulation before bed before going to bed while affirming.

•. Self concept:

For this challenge I really REALLY RECCOMEND self concept,yes you don't need it but if you're getting anxiety even after seeing or manifested many things before I really recommend working on self concept.

•. Robotic Affirming:

I really recommend it for people with ADHD like me,the repetition really help chase away those unwanted negative thoughts,you can do it while doing anything basically but affirming while doing crochetingor qalking is my favvvv!!.

•. Saturating sessions:

Here you can use a counter app put a particular number like for example 500 or 600,it's all upto you.

If you want to affirm for an hour or two,set timer and affirm while tapping.

Or you can set a goal like for a day you'll affirm 1000 or 2000 times and while day when ever you get time you can use the counter app.

Or you can use affirmation tape whatever resonates with you.

🧸.WEEK ONE.

This week is all about your self concept.

•. Start your day with NO phone,if you read a lot of SATS guide uou probably read that we are in SATS right when we wake up,so yes use this hour to affirm in your favour SELF CONCEPT,every morning.

•. Now It's upto you you can do saturating sessions anytime of your day and robotically affirming.

Tip: if you lose focus while robotically affirming try doing repetitive activity like for me walking or crocheting or tapping on my thigh while watching movie.

•. Now if you catch yourself over thinking and feeling nervous and wavering do one of the vagus nerves exercises really quick and along with pink noises.

•. As for night before bed,I personally really prefer a cold shower and then listening to pink noises while robotically affirming but shower isn't necessary you can do what you like to regulate your nervous system.

So you have to do all this for a week remember it's self concept week whenever thought like "should I just into entering void/manifesting" a big fat NO, instead start telling yourself it's done if you feel like working on self concept is wasting your time,but don't get too lost on affirming "it's done" remember just regulate and affirm it's done few times before going back to how amazing you are in manifesting or entering void.

🧸. WEEK TWO~

•. Now this week you will do the same but not work on your self concept,you will start affirming that YOU ARE THE VESRION OF YOURSELF WHO CAN MANIFEST/ENTER VOID.

•. Also THIS WEEK you will use EFT tapping around 6 rounds not a specific time you can do EFT tapping while robotically affirming taht you can manifest /enter void.

•. On second week I want you guys to start practicing meditation before bed instead of putting pink noises and affirming like first week now I know it's hard to meditate for someone with ADHD but here is the thing,you will observe those thought which means you will no longer try to identify with those thoughts. Monitor those thoughts like you are in someone else's body,you'll realize the thought are coming in by itself,ok just assume you're a soul trapped in a vessel and this vessel is trying to fool you into thinking you're the vessel and slowly your thoughts will start to decrease it just need some practice.

And if you're just wanting to manifest something it's fine no need to do the meditation part.

🧁. This challenge DOES NOT hold the power but you does,don't get discourage if you had hard time with meditation or it took you longer then 2 weeks it DOES NOT MATTER,what matter is you KNOWING that you are MASTER AT ENTER VOID/ MANIFESTING!! You must realize that you hold the power to shape your reality, and just a negative thought can't ruin your day. Discipline is ALSO needed here babes I know ADHD can be pretty annoying when we get distracted or get too focus on useless things,that's why I recommend robotic affirming alot like ALOT.

[pastel-peach-writes]

Caitvi x reader who just goes along with things and doesn't state their opinion or how they feel,but they do get quiet or tense when they're uncomfortable or pick their nails. But if your alright with angst maybe they get overwhelmed or hurt or both,but still refuse,so they force it out of them,and they're hurt like "why didn't you tell us?.." or something,it's comfort.if it's a little to dark I'll ask something else😭 sorry if it is

Hi! It's not too dark at all. To let it be known, I'm fine with writing angst! If you're curious about how much is too much, you can simply message me! I hope y'all enjoy the fic.

"You Can Tell Us." | CaitVi x Reader

╰┈➤ PLOT: In the household where you grew up, expressing your opinion wasn't tolerated. Hell, expressing your emotions wasn't tolerated either. To keep the peace, you learned to not say anything in stressful situations, even if that means sacrificing your well-being.

╰┈➤ WARNINGS: Yelling, Co-Workers Being Assholes, Name Calling, Hurt/Comfort(?), Pet Names, Cursing, Not Proofread

⍣ ೋ Enjoy!⍣ ೋ

A/N: I HOPE THIS IS WHAT YOU ASKED FOR. THIS KINDA GOT AWAY FROM ME LMAO

Your whole life you were the person who kept the peace. You were someone who bit their tongue to avoid getting yelled at or offered solutions to problems that had nothing to do with you. If there was a solution to a problem or a way to avoid conflict, you were the person who chose those options.

So, why did this have to happen to you?

At your place of work, you were minding your business. You finished some paperwork earlier than planned and decided to take an early break. Then, four of your team members rushed into the break room.

"Do you think you can sit here and have us do all the work?" "You have some nerve making us look like the bad guys." "You're a lazy piece of shit. I don't know how you even made it this far."

The words pierced your skin and heart like darts to a board. You didn't dare to say anything back. Stunned in the moment, you took a sip of your water. Your eyes focused on the plain wall behind your teammates.

"And look, now they're spacing out like we're not even here," a co-worker buzzed. He scoffed. He leaned down in front of you and waved his hand in your face. "Hello? Anyone home?"

When he didn't get a response, he knocked on your skull.

You gave them nothing. Tears stung in your eyes.

"Wow, shocker! No one's home," he laughed. The rest of the team followed. Fulfilled, the man hummed. "Guess that's what happens when you hire an airhead who's probably having relations with the boss." the man put his hand on the table, cornering you in.

Your eyes remained on the wall. You weren't having an affair with the boss, but you didn't feel the need to say anything.

He shifted himself into your eyesight. A sinister smirk tugged on the corner of his lips. He took the tip of his finger and tipped the bottom of your cup. The cup fell over, the clear liquid soaking through your shirt and lap.

The laughter roared.

"Oops!" he feigned a gasp. He pulled away from you, his hand on his chest. "Guess you should've been more careful. It's okay," the man gave a fake smile, "holding cups is hard."

A cackle ripped through him as he leaned his head back. He shoved his hands in his pockets then turned around and left. The others flocked after him like ducklings to a parent.

Hot tears ran down your cheeks when they were out of sight. You forced yourself out of your chair and dragged your feet towards the paper towels.

Sobs scratched your throat at your pathetic attempt to dry your shirt. You were drenched through and it was cold out. Only six more hours left.

-

Home and on the couch, you stared at the wall to calm yourself down. With your nervous system still on the rocks, chews on your lips and nails, and an unfocused gaze, the attempt was a failure.

"Vi, that was completely inappropriate and not needed!" Caitlyn scolded as the two of them walked into the house. In the right mindset, you would greet them and ask how their day was, but because of today's earlier events, you didn't hear them come in.

"Oh, come on, Cupcake," Vi spoke. A chuckle followed her sentence. "All I did was curse him out a little and threaten him." the pinkette threw off her boots. Caitlyn carefully slipped her feet out of her own. "Don't act like you didn't like it," her tone was sing-songy.

The bluenette's cheeks were dusted pink. She put her hands on her hips, watching Vi's smirk grow as they kept eye contact. "I-It... It was fine, but it wasn't needed."

"Come on!" Vi threw her hands up. She hopped and spun on the balls of her feet as she entered the living room. "Muffin," Vi gave you a playful pout. She sat beside you on the couch, her arm resting on your shoulder. She gave you her signature puppy eyes. "Am I the bad guy for telling one of Caitlyn's employees to get their shit together or else their job is on the line?"

"That is not what you said," Caitlyn rebutted. She found her place on your other side.

Vi hummed, shrugging. "So, maybe I paraphrased a lil'. What's the harm?"

"The harm is you're trying to sweeten up your side of the story to be more appealing," Caitlyn narrowed her eyes toward Vi. Vi only grinned in response.

Vi put her gaze back on you. "Is it workin', Muffin?"

You're far gone. You haven't moved and the chewing on your nails got worse. You haven't blinked in so long, your eyes were producing tears to regain moisture.

"Muffin?" Vi leaned closer to your face. The tears now slid down your cheeks and your chest heaved up and down. Vi glanced to Caitlyn who was already scanning you to see if there was something physically wrong.

When she couldn't find anything, Caitlyn shook her head to reassure Vi of your physical safety.

Nothing was wrong physically which meant something emotionally or mentally was bothering you. Vi frowned. She placed a hand on your shoulder. "Muffin. Hey." Her voice was clear and firm. She was sure her voice had no hint of sadness to not push you over the edge. However, if you looked into her eyes, you would find them glassy with dilated pupils.

Caitlyn's eyes were similar. Her blue irises darkened in concern, fear, and anxiety; all the words she could use to describe how disheveled she was feeling.

Not seeing you move, Vi shook your shoulder. "Muffin. Snap out of it. What's going on?"

Caitlyn brought a hand to your thigh. She gave your thigh a gentle squeeze.

With another squeeze to your thigh from Caitlyn and a squeeze on your shoulder from Vi, you finally blinked. The moisture in your eyes made a reappearance. You looked between the two of them, pulling your nail out of your mouth. "Huh?"

"You've been staring at the wall. Cait and I came home a while ago and you haven't said a word," Vi whispered. Her grip on your shoulder turned into comforting rubs.

"Oh, I'm fine," you force a smile. Caitlyn deadpanned. She pulled her gaze to Vi who wore the same unphased face.

"You're not fine. It's okay to not be fine, dear," Caitlyn stroked your thigh. Her eyes were filled with sadness, the same with Vi's grey eyes.

"I promise, I'm fine."

"Bullshit!" scoffed Vi.

"Violet."

"No, they're not fine. That's obvious!" Vi removed her hand from your shoulder. Instead, she got up from the couch to resume her sentence. "I should've known you weren't okay. You didn't do that cute greeting of yours when your face lights up and you squeeze us like you haven't seen us in years."

You shifted in your seat, a frog in your throat. Tears well up in your eyes again, but this time, these tears are from sadness. You scratched your palm with your nails.

Caitlyn sighed. "I, too, should've noticed the change in your behavior. I guess we were too wrapped up in our own drama to notice," Caitlyn took a glimpse of Vi's expression.

Her eyebrows were furrowed, the skin between them creased. She'd squeeze her hands into fists and then let go repeatedly as a fidget.

Caitlyn took Vi's anger as a sign she should resume speaking. "We're not trying to force you into telling us, but if you're not okay, you can. We're here to comfort you, be your rock when you can't be your own." Caitlyn shuffled to squat in front of you. She doesn't force you to look at her, but you can see her worried eyes in your peripheral vision.

"Being with the two of you taught me it's okay to depend on others," Caitlyn admitted. "I want to be the person who can have anything under control and can come off as collected, but keeping all my frustrations inside or innermost thoughts can be challenging."

Vi calmed herself down enough to sit on the floor. She rested her head on your knee and put a hand on Caitlyn's leg.

Gaining comfortability, you slid down the couch. You sat between them with your back resting on the couch's edge. Vi's head repositioned itself to your shoulder and Caitlyn's moved to your other knee.

With her sitting adjustment, Caitlyn continued. "I don't want you to feel like you have to be the strong one. I don't want you to feel like you can't be vulnerable with us or even disagree with us."

"Yeah, Muffin," Vi's voice broke as she spoke. "Disagree or angry, we're going to love you the same. Confrontation comes with life." Vi dragged her hand down her face. "It's shit sometimes, but you gotta work your way through it, yanno?"

A heavy sigh escaped your body. You threw your head back onto the cushions and covered your face. You sobbed behind your hands. Your heart sank; your chest tightened. That frog in your throat grew into a toad. You babbled about this morning's events and how helpless you felt.

Anyone who wasn't familiar with you wouldn't be able to decipher what you muttered behind your hands. Luckily for you, your girlfriends know you inside and out. Even if it takes them a bit to notice when something's off.

The two of them pulled you in a tight embrace. They didn't speak or make efforts to shush you as you spilled your guts to them. Vi made a conscious decision not to let her anger get the best of her.

Although, those guys had no clue what was in store for them tomorrow morning.

Caitlyn also thought about making a visit to the office, but to complain to HR about the events. Not to find the culprits and make them pay. She was sure Vi had that handled. (Caitlyn would also have to handle her later.)

When your sobs calmed and your breathing evened, Vi spoke first. "They're a couple of dicks."

Caitlyn didn't feel the need to scold her.

"They should know how to treat a human being. Guess you can't do that when you're a shitty human, huh?" Vi chuckled to lighten the mood, but there was no joy behind her laugh. Only pure rage. "I'll fuck them up for you, don't worry." Vi placed a tender kiss on the side of your head. "I'll run you a bath, mkay? You should wash the day off of you."

"What about you and Cait's argument or whatever?" You peeled your head off the cushion to look at them. Everything was blurry behind your tears, but you could make out their frames and silhouettes. "Don't you need help?"

"Taking care of you is much more important than some silly fight," Caitlyn whispered. She smoothed the area on top of your head. Her delicate fingers brushed against your ear lobe as she brought them down. Her polished fingernails carefully traced the outside of your lobe. "Vi and I are big girls. I'm sure we can figure it out."

Vi grinned. "Hey, what fight?" she winked at the both of you.

A sad chuckle left your body. For a moment, relief washed over you. Once your chuckle finished though, the heaviness came back.

"Hey," Caitlyn's hand ran down your cheek. She wiped your tears with her thumb, Vi copied. "How about we get food from your favorite restaurant? I can go pick it up while Vi prepares your bath."

"I think that's a great idea," Vi used the back of her hand to soothe the skin on your cheek. "What do you think? Does that sound good, Muffin?"

You gave them a meek shrug.

"That looks like a maybe." Caitlyn giggled. "What if I add in dessert? would it be a yes then?"

"Oh, Muffin, say yes! Say yes! She's offering dessert!" Vi grabbed onto your arm. She shook you like a kid begging their parent for ice cream.

A genuine laugh came from your throat. Finally, all the pain is released from you. You don't know what made it leave. Maybe the sound of dessert or Vi's childlike begging. Or maybe it was the fact that Caitlyn and Vi cared for you enough to sit down and work through whatever problem you were facing.

For the first time in your life, you felt safe. Truly safe. You felt as if you could freely speak your mind without the underlying fear of rejection. You could say what you want.

"Okay," you gave the both of them a slight smile. "I think that sounds nice."

"Oh, yes! I love you, I love you, I love you!" Vi wrapped her arms around your body and pulled you on top of her. She gave you a bone-crushing squeeze.

"Vi!" you laughed.

Caitlyn laughed as well. She stood up and went to put her shoes and coat on. "Don't hurt them, Vi."

"Could never, Cupcake," Vi said from under you. "Now, hurry on and fetch us our dinner, woman! Mama's hungry."

Caitlyn scoffed, smiling. "Mama? Woman? Who are you talking to right now?"

"Oop," you muttered, grinning at Vi. "You're in trouble," you taunted in a whisper.

Vi playfully narrowed her eyes at you. She glanced at Caitlyn with an innocent and playful grin. "The tallest, cutest Cupcake in the world?"

"Right," Caitlyn dragged out the word. She opened the door. "I'll be back soon. You two stay out of trouble." and with another laugh, Caitlyn left the house.

Vi hummed. "I think she secretly liked being called 'Mama'."

You perked a brow. "Sure, she did, babe... Can we go draw my bath now?"

"Can I join you?"

WC: 2,285

[inklore]

sending a little commander mills thot 💖 stopping for the night in a dark, deep cave. sharing a bed roll quickly turning into something more, as you end up on your hands and knees beneath him. there’s a rattle of stones near the entrance and his large hand is pressing over your mouth to keep you quiet - his senses on high alert for danger. but even then, mills can’t help the shallow rock of his hips - unable to resist how good you feel

warning signs

pairing: commander mills x (f)reader

word count: 1.1k+

contents: unprotected p in v, creampie, small amount of dirty talk, i didn't classify what planet they were on but threats are occurring, slight enemies to lovers, rough.

note: i'd let this man have his way with me in an open warzone and i have no shame about it because this idea has me insane.

You should have known. 

You should have known this planet would be nothing but a bad omen when you had to emergency land on it. When you lost contact, your ship deciding to stop working properly. When the only way of getting out a signal was to rig the system built within the interface of the hunk of metal. Ultimately destroying any chance of getting out of here on it but allowing you to get out a weakened signal, you hoped your home planet would come and swiftly send someone to you before this planet showed just why it was inhabitable by those who walked on two legs and didn’t prefer the taste of game. 

You should have known that Mills would be the worst person to crash land with.

Should have known he’d only raise your blood pressure and have a permanent scowl curve your brows until it gave you a headache. 

And you really should have known that he’d be this big. 

His stature alone suggesting that was more to him than broad deltoids beneath those clothes. More than just deadpan looks and side eyes of scolds and warnings behind those iris’s. Behind the moments and trips the two of you have taken together over the years. 

You should have known that his cock would stretch you like this. Making your insides burn when he thrusts inside of you. Your walls accommodating something that’s bringing you pleasure at the same time it has you mewling in pain—something big and hot and heady that’s making your fingers dig into the dirt. 

Your back arched at an angle that has your body scraping forward against the ground every time Mills snaps his hips against your ass. His cock going deeper and deeper—the tip hitting that spot inside of you that makes your body want to run from him, want to escape the pleasure and the sting of him going past what your bodies used to—his nails digging into your hips. Moonshaped marks embossed in your skin as he holds your ass in place. As he refuses to let you squirm away from him.

Because you wanted this, didn’t you?

“You’ve been begging for it.” He says with a heavy breath. A groan mixed somewhere in there, you’re sure of it but can’t decipher it fully with how you sound. How the back of your hand is covered in your own drool and bite marks from trying to muffle the moans and whines coming from your mouth. 

There’s a rock under your knee that has left an imprint into your bone, has cut the skin with how your body is moving. If you focus on it hard enough, you may even feel a trickle of blood. Or the indents of stone and caked on dirt on your elbows. 

But all you can feel—all you can hear, sense, smell—is Mills and what he’s doing to you. What he’s doing to your body and how you never want him to stop. Never want to go back to the time when the two of you pretended there was nothing there. 

The thrusting of his hips imprinted on your nerve endings, and you can’t imagine a time, a moment, or a place where you don’t want him to bend you over something and take you. Have you. 

“Who knew all you needed was my cock to have you so compliant.” Mills grabs the back of your neck. His grip just as rough and embossed as the fingers at your hips. The weight of his chest drapes over you in a way that has you pushed further into the ground and your ass higher in the air, shoving his cock to the hilt, a cry falling from your lips. His name coated in a pleading whimper. 

“Next time you’re not listening to me, all I’ll have to do is fuck you, huh? Bend you over and fuck you until you’re ready to admit who’s in charge here.” 

There’s some part of your psyche that wants to fight against this. That wants to throw his words back in his face with something snide and angry, but you’re fucking pudy between his fingers, and he’s molding you into a perfect compliant hole for him. 

Into someone who wants to follow his orders just as long as they get his cock in return. 

But you still open your mouth to try to tell him just as much. To ask him to fuck you harder or agree with him, you’re not sure because it dies in your throat.

The words fall to the pit of your stomach as the both of you stop in place as your body feels the soft rumble of something moving outside of the cave. The rustling of trees, rocks, and branches being stepped on. 

“Mills,” you murmur his name. Soft enough for him to hear but apparently too loud for his liking as he shushes you. His hot breath against your ear, his hands maneuvering your legs so they’re underneath him now as he lays on top of you. The massive width of his chest makes you feel engulfed in him. 

His hair against your cheek, his breath held in his lungs just like your own. 

You try to listen. Try to hear anything approaching, growing closer to your indisposed state. The two of you not in a position to move as quickly as you should to protect yourselves. Mills not seeming to be as on edge as you are, the faith he has in himself to grab his gun quickly enough if whatever is outside moves in closer, is almost aggravating. 

Your mouth parts to tell him this, to push him off of you so the both of you won’t die while he’s still hard inside of you. 

But instead of an argument, a gasp falls from your lips as you feel Mills rock his hips against you. The tip of his cock pulled back to your entrance only to be thrust back in slow, and agonizingly sharp all in one quick rock. 

“Mi-” his palm presses against your mouth, silencing you.

“Shhh,” he whispers against your ear. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been needing this, to fuck you.” His heavy breath and the deep timber of his tone as he tries to keep quiet, as he speaks the words for only you to hear, to know, and to feel, wash over your spine and lay achinly between your thighs where the shallow rock of his hips against your ass has your nailbeds housing rockbed as you try not to become a sobbing mess behind his hand. “You feel s’fucking good.”

And if the two of you were to die like this; with Mills rutting against you, his cock stretching you, his deep breaths and praises against your ear, your slick coating his length as you come, and his come leaking from you—leaving your pussy a warm and sticky mess as he continues to thrust inside of you even after the fact, as if he’s trying to keep all he can inside of you—then so be it. 

You’d die happy.