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#doctors HATE them but like in a 'what the fuck are you' way
redflagshipwriter · 21 hours
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Hot Ghouls in your Area ch 9 PREVIEW
In which Jason makes not a single good judgement call.
“Good morning!”
Jason winced and moved the phone a little further from his face. “Is this Doctor Fenton?”
“It's one of them! What can I do ya for?” Jack Fenton boomed, just as bombastic as his newsletter made him seem. Jason knew, deep in his heart, that Jack Fenton was indeed the one who had selected green neon bold for his headings and borders.
Angels wept. Jason scrubbed his palm over his eye. This man had no poetry in his soul. “I, uh, had some questions about a ghost. I've read some of your articles and your most recent published paper on the topic.”
“We love ghosts!” Fenton bellowed. “Ask away!”
“Do you know a ghost called Phantom?” Jason tried.
“...Sure do,” Jack Fenton said. “Whatcha need?”
Jason cleared his throat. “It's somewhat complicated,” he said evasively, because he didn't need these people to know he was the Red Hood. Fuck. He should have either gotten his helmet stored away or not given his real name. Phantom knew his face and that his name was Jason. Any information that got around via Phantom might tie his face to his alter ego. If Phantom said he got married to Jason, the Red Hood, that could lead to the end of the Bat family vigilantism.
“...He cause you trouble, sport?”
Jason let out a slight laugh. “You could say that, though it wasn't really his fault,” he admitted. He cast a paranoid eye out the window to be sure no siblings were creeping on him. “No, it's really more that…” Fuck, he should have planned this better. “Is there any information you can give me about how a human could contact him?”
Not that Jason didn't have a phone number for the guy. But it made him very uncomfortable to have any basic knowledge or way to track Phantom down if he decided to leave Jason to whatever was going on.
“I could probably do that,” Jack Fenton said slowly, now sounding like an entirely different human being. “Say, you wouldn't be Jeremy, would you?”
Jason blinked. “...How did you know?” He went with. Phantom had contact with a human guy named Jeremy? That might be his in.
“Oh, well then, you've definitely got to come over,” Dr. Fenton wheedled. It somehow came across as shifty. “You'll be wanting a whole primer on how the Ghost Zone works, won't ya?”
“That would be immensely helpful,” Jason agreed. “But I'd hate to take up your valuable time.”
“Nonsense!” Fenton bellowed. Jason nearly lost his grip on his phone in surprise. “Come over Jeremy, I'm dying to meetcha!”
So, there was a plan. Jason packed for a day trip and dialed up his travel agent.
“Fuck off,” said Tim. “I'm busy. Christ.”
“I need an airplane ticket and a rental bike,” Jason continued. He tossed his mostly full bag on the sofa and went digging for the socks he knew he had washed the other night. “I'm going to go see some nerds about my impromptu adventure the other day.”
Tim groaned. That was the first Jason had given any hint at all about what had happened to him when he'd been ‘sacrificed.’ “What nerds?” He asked wearily.
Jason grinned into his sock drawer. Gottem. “Why, do you all know each other?” He asked blithely.
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wishful-seeker · 2 days
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I have 0% tolerance for doctors anymore, if they treat me shitty once they will again, thus I'll either drop them or file a complaint.
Before my CRPS was diagnosed i was too scared to stand up to doctors. The pain made me SO DESPERATE i was willing to deal with anything. Now that i have this new undiagnosed illness i realized my body and mind PHYSICALLY cannot do that anymore.
The second to last time i didn't stand up for myself with a doctor i punched the medical bed as soon as she left the room, the last time i couldn't even hear what he said because i was busy restraining myself from punching HIM. i was seeing red, face twitching and everything. My body literally cannot take being quiet anymore. I do not care if i make things more difficult. I don't care if it takes longer to get diagnosed because im pushing for better treatment. I would rather stand up for myself and physically suffer more than let these doctors believe they are allowed to treat me like a dog. They don't treat me like a HUMAN, they don't see us as HUMAN. They see us as pests. A burden, a problem to solve. And if they can't solve you THEY FUCKING HATE YOU. but i think i hate them more.
Doctors are in a gross position of power over their patients, they decide if you live or die, your existence is in their hands, you beg them for help because they are your God and they spit in your face. Even if you literally cry and beg them to help they will give you NOTHING and i know this because thats what i did. I literally BEGGED these people sobbing to help my pain and they did nothing. They do not care about you. They never will. We are not people to them. Nurses are often the same way. I've had nurses and doctors lie straight to my face, make faces when i tell them my story, and do other horrible things.
I can't do it. I can't deal with it anymore. I will fight tooth and nail and be the biggest Karen in existence to these doctors the SECOND they treat me wrong.
I have found two. TWO doctors out of over 50 that i actually like. 2 that treat me appropriately and not like im a bug. 2 that treat me like a human being.
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t0ast-ghost · 3 days
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S2 episode 25 (Bread And Circuses) oh goodness oh my. I’m not ready. I’m so ready.
Okay get ready:
- They’re all standing on the enterprise bridge completely still. As if in tableau.
- Of course they’re beaming down to a dangerous planet with only the top three officers. Why even use reason at this point.
- Kirk outside the ship in his green shirt <3 (I keep thinking of it as his pjs)
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- McCoy is very hostile towards Spock today. Hope they don’t get put in a situation with sharp objects…
- “Once, just once, I’d like to land someplace and say, ‘behold, I am the archangel Gabriel.’” “I fail to see the humour in that situation, Doctor.” “Naturally. You could hardly claim to be an angel with those point ears, Mr. Spock. But say you landed someplace with a pitchfork.” This is proving my theory that they’re the angel and devil on Kirk’s shoulders
- “We come from another… province.” Canadian moment
- “What do you call those?” “I call them ears.” There is no end to Spock’s audacity
- “Captain, I thought you might find this interesting.” Spock hands Kirk a newspaper with a shirtless man on the cover
- “Will you help us?” No one can outright deny this twunk
- Spock in a hat
- McCoy in a regular short sleeve shirt and bell bottom pants is <3
- no words for this one
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- it’s like this episodes message is mirroring our own world or something… nah
- McCoy is already picking fights. Spock is indulging him. They’re not enemies to lovers. They’re enemies AND lovers.
- McCoy not afraid to slap a bitch
- So Merrick killed all of his crew… right?
- McCoy and Spock just flirting (debating) in public
- AND they threatened McCoy and Spock
- As Jim takes the communicator to assumedly order the crew down he has a shit eating grin… so it’s safe to assume he’s not gonna do that
- “Must you always be so blasted honest?!”
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- He’s just talking on his cellphone
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- Scotty is talking to his diary, Uhura is listening
- Jim is so scared for what’s about to happen
- McCoy and Spock about to face off against two shirtless men
- “I don’t mind fighting but… why you?” That gladiator took one look at them and went, ‘why are they making us fight these two nerds?’
- Camera goes to McCoy -> sound guy ups the catcalls
- I love Spock fighting really hard in the background and McCoy just.. he don’t want to
- “Do you need any help, Doctor?” “What ever gave you that idea?” “[random gladiator]Fight, you pointed eared freak!” “You tell him, buster! Of all the completely… ridiculous, illogical questions I ever heard in my life!” Then Bones falls on his ass and Spock comes to his rescue, happily ever after
- Those pants make Kirk’s ass look flat… unfair
- Spock trying to break the bars while McCoy sits in the most strange way possible
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- Spock has tried to get them out the same way fifteen times. He wants his boyfriends safe.
- Me: awww McCoy and Spock having a genuine moment… nope they can’t last ten seconds (maybe they are divorced)
- McCoy pins Spock against the wall of the cell to make his point
- Spock’s pouty expression…
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- “Why you wouldn’t know what to do with a genuine warm decent feeling.” “Really doctor?” They’re giving each other ‘fuck me’ eyes
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- Their fight ended with “I’m worried about Jim too” like McCoy knows Spock feels emotions but represses them and is ‘trying’ to understand him
- Kirk, I implore you not to kiss this woman- that went out the window so fast
- Never mind what I said about the pants making his ass flat. I was severely wrong. Forgive me.
- KIRK STRAIGHT UP KILLED THOSE GUYS
- Ohhh Merrick stole the communicator
- Kirk giving commendation to Scotty for not breaking the prime directive is priceless. ‘Good self control, Mr Scott.’
- I love how Spock and McCoy are both saying things about Flavius (agreeing with each other)and as soon as Spock speaks about studying the sun religion, McCoy looks like he’s going to explode
I both like and hate the relationship they have with Spock and McCoy in this one cause it’s so magnetic but I don’t know if it’ll ever be evolved past this and that makes me sad.
Masterpost
Episode written by Gene Roddenberry and Gene L. Coon
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 5 hours
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Can you make some sad libby headcanons? I swear all your other sad headcanons made me cry😭
sad libby head canons
YES! libby is literally the fucking best and she's so underrated. trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal thoughts/attempts, eating disorders, and sexual assault. hope you like them <3.
she used to apologize to her mother after she would hit her (in tig she says her mother used to hit her when she was stressed)
she's been self-harming since she was like 12. she used the blade in her pencil sharpener and cut the tops of her thighs (you can't see them even when she wears shorts)
drake convinced her that him SAing her was out of love, and that he knew she 'wanted' it so she should stop complaining. she'd be the one who ended up apologizing to him after he'd assault her
in high school, because of how tough things were at home, she used to do drugs (she had this really bad group of friends that sort of influenced her) (she didn't get addicted to the drugs though, if was more of a once in a while thing when she couldn't handle her life anymore)
at some point, her mom was doing really badly financially, and they were forced to move into a smaller one bedroom apartment. libby thought her mom deserved the bed bc she worked so hard so she slept on the floor.
she's so used to people hitting her that it doesn't even hurt anymore. when someone does, she sort of dissociates in order to not feel anything.
her mom used to tell her she was overweight (she was literally underweight, her mom was just jealous). libby then developed an eating disorder (bulimia)
the ED was sort of an on and off thing for her. every once in a while, she'd get the idea in her head that she was overweight and ugly and should do smth about it, but, then, avery or one of her friends would help her get better.
the reason she's drawn to men like drake is bc it's the only thing she's familiar with. her mom was a piece of shit too, so for her its what's normal/what she deserves (this is less of a head canon and more psychology but eh)
she'll do anything anyone asks of her. she can't say no even if it makes her uncomfortable/she doesn't have the time/doesn't like that person.
she sometimes gets so mad at the world that she punches walls until her bones almost break.
she hates getting mad at people bc she reminds herself of her mother.
she's terrified of becoming a mother (even though she wants to be one) bc she's convinced herself that she'll be like her mom, if not worse.
her mom used to get mad at her for ricky (her father) leaving. so much so that libby started blaming herself for it
drake used to tell libby that if she didn't let him have his way with her, he'd hurt avery. libby, of course, didn't want that so she would let him do awful things to her.
she hates taking baths bc drake used to waterboard her (if you don't know what that is, search it up)
when libby used to do things her mom didn't approve of/like (mistakes all children make and learn from like spilling a glass of milk), she would deny libby basic needs like food, water, a bed to sleep in etc.
idk if this one will make sense (it makes sense to me but idk), but libby dyes her hair a new color very often bc its a way for her to start anew. like lets say she breaks up with drake again and she hates herself for getting back together with him in the first place, she dyes her hair a new color to signify the beginning of a new era.
she will literally break her back to please people/be the person they want her to be. if they think she talks to much, she'll stop talking, etc (people's opinions of her matter a lot to her)
tw prob one of the darkest hcs i've ever written: libby ended up in the hospital once bc she slit her wrists trying to off herself. this happened right before she took avery in. the doctors didn't think she'd make it.
she'd considered offing herself multiple times before and after the last hc, but she doesn't bc just the thought of it makes her feel guilty. she doesn't want people to cry over her bc she thinks she doesn't deserve their tears, and she doesn't want to leave people she wants to help
she insists everyone get therapy but herself bc, to her, other people matter more
the only thing that brought her comfort as a child was this stuffed bunny. she used to press it to her wounds bc it would dull the pain (this might not make sense but whenever i get hurt (cause im ass clumsy bitch), putting pressure on the wound dulls the pain). she also found comfort in how soft it was.
drake threw that bunny away cause he thought it was worthless. libby told nash about this and he searched the entire fucking country until he found that damn stuffed bunny (idk how he did but he's a hawthorne so...)
when she has panic attacks, she'll either be very silent/still in a corner or she'll be clawing/pulling at anything around her (including herself)
she didn't do well in school not bc she wasn't smart but bc the students and teachers were so creepy towards her (would harass her constantly) that she felt uncomfortable even stepping into the school
absolutely hates it when drunk people interact with her/get too close to her bc whenever drake got drunk, he'd hit her
hannah's death hit her hard too. they were actually much closer than people thought they were. hannah helped her through a lot of shitty things that happened in her life. she would visit her grave every once in a while to tell her she wished she was still here bc her life (and avery's) was absolutely shit without her. she would breakdown in the middle of the graveyard every time
whenever she felt like hurting herself but didn't have a blade nearby, she would dig her fingernails into the already existing wounds to make them bleed again.
drake once beat her up so bad she ended up in the hospital with brain swelling and a fractured arm. the swelling in her brain was so bad they didn't know if she'd make it out alive.
here's a happy libby head canon to (hopefully) make it all better:
she used to be this supervisor at a daycare when she was younger (that's probably not even a thing but lets pretend it is). the kid would make her drawings all of the time with hearts and proposals and stuff. she loved the kids so much, she would hug every single one of them and bake them cupcakes. they were literally her best friends, and some of them still send her messages through their mom/dad (she would befriend their parents and give them her number/email)
not proof read bc i'm a lazy ass bitch. i say this in every post, but pls talk to someone if you need help (if there's no one in your life you can talk to, contact a helpline). sending lots of love to everyone <3.
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Tomura: After a thorough medical assessment, the doctors have described me as 'a lot. just like a lot to deal with'
Dabi: I go in for a stomach ache, and the doctors are all like 'i think we should just pull the plug now'.
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andromedasummer · 7 months
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i ended up having a like. 30 minute conversation with some of those "freedom convoy" people. was at the bus stop. they were wearing trump hats. i ended up roped into the conversation because i was so taken aback at seeing one in public i was just. staring at it. ive never felt more depressed about someone elses life and beliefs than when i talked to them.
#they fucking. tokd me about the litterboxes in schools for kids identifying as cats and i had to#break it to them that that wasnt true and explained that. also explained. what its like yo be autistic. how i find it joyful#and also discussed how they believe trump has been spoken to by god and chosen to lead and how they arent christians or catholics like they#used to be but instead talk directly to him and have him inside them#and also apparently how 15 minute cities in china are used to keep people imprisoned where they are#and we arent a democracy anymore. which was so funny considering. they are participating for a party#running in the election#i gave them my perspective on being transgender and gay and watched them have like. 3 or 4 ''are we the baddies'' moments#explained what puberty blockers actually do. that surgery is paid out of peoples own pockets. that we literally only have#one doctor who can perform these surgeries and hes abt to retire#and at the end of the convo they were like ''youre so pleasant. youre really smart young lady'' and i was like ''ty? i just. read a lot'#god i hope they learned. something. or i changed some opinion. they seemed to have a more positive view of autistic people at least#i just like. fuck dude. these fuckin right wing grifters are ruining these peoples lives.#the lady has been unemployeed since covid cos she got sucked into this antivax stuff and now theyre both financially unstable#perfect targets for tamaki and the freedoms people who were known for squeezing money out of people through bogus religious stuff#those two have been twisted into just. hateful and scared and are saying the most. insane shit and they dont even realize it.#and the worst part of it was the amount of young people there. so many people my age just deluded into this nonsense.#and kids JESUS CHRIST so many kids holding signs about ''protecting the kiwi way of life'' like bro every single thing#you are getting upset about an imported culture war. you arent threatened by this shit.#youve latched onto american culture war stuff because youre insecure in your whiteness and existence in a colonial country#its so fucking evil.
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batboybisexualism · 1 year
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I may be stupid (I'm definitely stupid) but if you're a doctor's office and you're sending a patient to get labs please remind them a day or so before the appointment that it's supposed to happen at a separate location, especially if you're making them go in for labs on a day when your office is closed and they can't get in touch with you to ask where they're supposed to go. also please tell them whether or not they need to fast for the blood tests, for the love of fucking god
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(D0nt r3/bl0g, I might change my mind and let people reblog this later but I need to read over it when I’m less emotional and see if I still agree with it)
I understand why chronically ill people are at such a high risk for falling for dangerous pseudoscience, because people like pretending that science has already figured everything out, and then acting like people who talk about the things science hasn’t figured out like we’re fucking idiots.
“You don’t need to ‘heal your gut,’ you don’t need to ‘cleanse’ your insides, your body literally already does does if you just leave it alone.” Cool, awesome. So tell me, when I’ve been going to the doctor for like almost ten years for unbearable stomach pain, and all of them have told me “yeah no your stomach is normal” and I am still in undeniable excruciating pain that I can feel, am I insane for looking at shit like herbal remedies??? Which like,,,literally can have a basis in science because like, it’s not like we Spawned medicine out of computers one day with the Power of Science, we like ?? Use things ?? That are natural ?? And make them into medicine??????
Wow, maybe when I drink broth with some herbs and it helps and the Science Believers tell me that that’s Utter Nonsense and Garbage and I Should Feel Bad For Believing It, and when the Community That Also Pedals Super Dangerous And Harmful Things As “Cures” actually fucking believes me and validates me, perhaps I’ll slowly begin to trust one of those groups more and one of them less!!! Wow!!! Crazy thought!!!!!!
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tardis--dreams · 13 days
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I wish i could get buproprion without a prescription this shit is way too good to give up ㅠㅠ
#damn it#i stopped my meds for a week and it didn't change a thing#but i took them again just to see if that would make a difference and holy shit#i was thinking about pausing taking them for a while now because i wanted to have the side effects back#like when i first started taking them 2020#and i never did because i thought I'd be miserable due to withdrawal and also it would take longer than a week to 'reset' my...#body? brain? idk. whatever. it actually makes a huge difference for me though#i hate how you have to get insulted by doctors in order to get these meds#I'd even pay for it myself fuck health insurance coverage#but noooo#can't have shit#sooooo#i gotta think about a way to continue to get them#it shouldn't be as hard as adhd meds to get it from my family doctor but I've been thinking it probably would be better#to not bring them up with her and instead suffer from my ps*chiatrist's insults for some more time#because so far there is no mention of mental illness in my file at my family doctor's office despite mentioning the ADs#if I'd get them prescribed there they would absolutely add depression and i do not want that#maybe my ps*chiatrist retires or dies soon then I'll never talk to one ever again but while she's there i may as well use her#as my drug supplier#(she's probably 52 but we've had two (2!) psychiatrists under the age of 50 die within the last 6 months in this tiny town#which has caused quite some issues because we have like 4 in total lmao#(so it wasn't a joke saying maybe she'll die soon. anyone could die anytime is the point. i think about people dying a lot and what would#change in my life then. (idk just felt like the phrasing was weird and wanted to elaborate but it whatever) )#void screams
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zoekrystall · 2 months
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Zero idea if it'll help or fade into the background but I downloaded stuff to track things and smacked widgets onto my homescreen to not forget. Initially searched for pain ones (where I downloaded two just for good measure ig) but saw that one is customizable for like anything you want and no purchase stuff for me bc included in that one pass and said sure fuck it. I think at the min I need to track pain bc by my memory do I go mental thinking if it just feels frequent n all or if it actually is and mind goes blank when at the doc (will just be fun translating to ger OTL I learn sm to describe stuff in eng but then it lacks in first language). Alas for whatever reason lil me never thought abt actually writing these things down (prob bc every adult anyways dismissed them to the point of not being sure if the pain was actually there so what was the point. but now. now I'm the adult in my life who calls the shots for their own life even if anxiety makes it hard).
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#a wild lux appears#randomly downloaded stuff when my headache almost made me want to cry again thank fuck for that binaural vid#Btw I will not tackle both languages full on at once they're just both there to not forget either#The group goal will prob be the hardest but at least I now realize I instead of beating myself up I just become avoidant#Which isn't good either but at least knowing what I do helps tackling it ykno#Btw the apps I got are dailyio. manage my pain. and. chronic insights (which is specifically for pain my recommendation since it's made by#one w it and completely free of ads n all. got a lot you can add n visually really nice. just fancy stuff behind paywall)#Zero idea if my stuff is chronic maybe I am since years in my denialism era either way pain is pain and I learned more online from disabled#ppl than from doctors which is just oh so great. but after learning not suprising yikes.#Also reg every adult I remember school trips being nightmares bc I ran out of energy and breath fast and the stops were not even close to#what I needed to recover.#Safe to say I became a v seething child who w reasons hated forced outdoors stuff#Got lots of fun stories which totally don't make me want to combust#This one is like. The tamest I think. Got literally locked out of my room to be foces to go outside#But all that is more stories abt one specific horrendous place I wish(ed) to burn to the ground than physical pain focused talk.#So gon cut it here#Need to shower anyways I just woke up I need v quickly food after it so cya#(just woke up I say. As if I'm not since like three hours awake but just since shortly out of my bed. anyways-)#Also last thing even if a child fakes pain to get out of stuff maybe talk w them as to why they feel the need to do that#Believe kids they know their body etc etc or I will hit you cartoon style w a piano over your head#Fuck wrote one app wrong I meant *daylio
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criminalamnesia · 2 months
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that 141 x reader you just did was so good! i need to know what happens next. like after reader is better, do they stay in the military? stay in 141? or do they take a discharge? I’m not the original ask but it was just so good.
love your writing btw!
thank you! here’s part two :)
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
you were beginning to hate the infirmary.
the white walls. the moans of pain. the smell of bleach and blood.
the reminder of why you were here. of who put you here.
your friends. your family. your team. john. johnny. kyle. simon.
you’d told the doctor to not let your teammates in, and she had tried, but there was only so much she could do. she couldn’t monitor the door all the time, and so a week after waking up from your coma, john price is sitting at your beside once again.
his hands are clasped together, knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. he’s leaning forward, elbows resting on the bed, hands under his chin. his position conveys his regret and worry. he looks like he should be in church, knelt between the pews and spewing silent prayers to a god that isn’t listening.
you haven’t spoken to him since he sat down ten minutes ago. the second you saw him step inside the infirmary, you knew he was there for you. there to try and speak to you, to apologize.
fuck him and his apologies.
you turned your head to the side, eyes staring at the white curtain separating your bed from the next. you studied the stitching while you listened to him breathe next to you. he hadn’t spoken either— just sat down and watched you.
it made your skin crawl, how he thought this was okay. how he thought this would be the way to get back into your good graces.
he clears his throat then, a sound you’ve heard a million times before. it makes you want to gag now.
“love,” his voice is soft, caring. you want to hit him in the jaw.
“can we talk? please?”
you don’t turn over, don’t even spare him a glance. you keep your gaze trained on the curtain. the only giveaway that he has your attention is the fists you clench at your sides.
he takes the silence as an invitation, that bastard.
“what happened—” he begins, then grunts. stops. takes a second, then begins again.
“what we did,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “it wasn’t right. the intel was from a trusted source. we—” he sighs then, and you can tell he’s rubbing his temple. he did that when he was stressed. when he was anxious.
“we were wrong to believe them over you, love. and im— im sorry.”
silence ensues. you don’t give him any indication that you’ve heard what he said. he sighs again, inhaling deeply.
“you’re still part of this team. johnny and gaz, they’ve been sitting outside this damn room like sentries. can barely pry ‘em away for drills.” he chuckles then, but it’s sad. pitiful. mournful.
“there’s nothing we can do to make this right,” he tells you. you’re still mulling over what he said about johnny and gaz. still hung up on the fact that he didn’t mention simon at all.
simon, who did the most damage to you, both psychologically and physically. simon, who shared your bed. simon.
simon, who is too much of a coward to face you for his crimes.
“but we want to try,” price is speaking again. “if you’ll let us.”
he stops talking. waits a beat, then two. then, you hear his chair scrape. he’s getting up, and that’s when you turn your head to face him.
he looks bad. bags under the eyes, skin pale, beard overgrown. you think he deserves this. deserves worse than this. his eyes meet yours, and they widen the tiniest bit at the attention you’re showing him.
your voice is full of venom as you speak.
“nothing,” you seethe, angry tears blurring your vision. “will ever undo what you did to me. what he did to me.”
price knows you’re talking about simon. the whole team knew you were a thing. hell, when they’d strapped you to that chair and debated who would ‘interrogate’ you, they hadn’t even thought to include simon. why would he want to torture the person he loved?
to their surprise, he had volunteered to take point.
“when i get out of this bed,” you continue. “im gone. and i never, never, want to see any of you again, or else im putting a fucking bullet between your eyes.”
the captain doesn’t speak. you can see the remorse on his face. you couldn’t care less about his feelings.
he gives a short nod, and without another word, he turns and leaves the room.
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after john’s visit, no one else tries to visit you. you no longer catch glimpses of kyle or johnny outside the infirmary door. you’re glad they’re starting to get the hint.
but you’re still getting flowers. you don’t know where they’re coming from. sometimes they’re dropped off by a nurse, other times they appear in the morning after a restless sleep. there’s never a note. never anything to suggest who would be leaving them.
you know it’s one of the 141, but you don’t know exactly who. you feel certain it’s not simon.
but, unbeknownst to you, it is him. he knows you don’t want to see him— to see any of them. price had told them all about what you’d said to him during your talk.
price had also told them that he’d already started preparing your transfer papers. that had caused an uproar from soap, who’d quickly been quieted by a saddened price.
simon had expected it. expected worse, actually. he knew that if the roles had been reversed, he wouldn’t have been as merciful as you. it made him hate what they’d done to you so much more.
there had been the tiniest doubt in his mind when all the evidence pointed to you. he hadn’t believed it at first— and then things became damning. everything pointed to you. trusted sources were pointing their fingers at you, and everyone listened. he had listened.
he had volunteered to torture you because he’d been angry. rage he hadn’t felt in years bubbled to the surface of his skin, and he wanted to tear you limb from limb. how dare you come into their lives— his life— and betray them so substantially?
simon didn’t trust easily. he was battered and broken and scarred. shattered and malformed pieces hastily glued back together. he let the team in. let you in. let you see his face. let you into his bed. let you into his fucking heart.
and you turned around and drove a dagger into him. or so he thought.
he thought his anger and actions had been justified. thought he was doing the world a favor by butchering you. but he was wrong. the team was wrong.
he finds himself regretting how he hadn’t listened to your pleas, but there’s nothing he can do about it now.
he knows the chances of you forgiving him, of letting him back into your life, are slim to none. but how could he not at least try?
you’d know each other for years. been together for years. all of it thrown away because he still knew the hurt of betrayal all too well. because it was too easy to fall back into the mindset that it was him against everyone. that the only person he knew, the only one he could rely on, was himself.
so he left flowers. your favorite ones. and he did so without making you face him, without apologizing or groveling. it was the least he owed you.
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a month after your coma, you were finally allowed out of the infirmary. you were still healing, skin still tender and bruised. pink, jagged scars lining your skin; eternal reminders of the pain you’d been subjected to.
you’d been given a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which you’d pulled on with much fuss. every time you struggled or stumbled, you found yourself getting angry. angry at the men who did this to you.
the anger was going to eat you alive, at least that’s what the psychologist that had been dropping by to see you had said. she’d told you you need to let it go, and you’d laughed in her face.
how do you let something like this go?
you didn’t know. you didn’t think you were strong enough to do that. not a good enough person to forgive the men that had carved into you.
once you had dressed, you shuffled out into the hallway. you’d profusely denied an escort, and the doctor had reluctantly acquiesced. she’d let you go, with just the promise that you’d keep your iv hooked in.
so here you were, trudging down the halls of the base, iv pole rattling along behind you.
you could feel eyes on you, but no one dared to get too close. you were glad. you didn’t want more empty apologies and sympathetic words.
you still remembered the way to price’s office like the back of your hand. you doubted you’d ever forget it.
time and time again you’d found yourself here. sometimes, getting reprimanded. others, congratulated. a few times you’d shown up in tears, and price had let you in without a word.
now you were standing outside his door, trying to contain the rage in your veins.
you raised a hand. knocked once, firm and loud.
“come in!” price called from inside.
you were already twisting the door knob, pushing into the room.
your eyes found price first. he was leaning against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. his hat was absent from his head, instead resting beside him on the desk.
and then you noticed simon.
he was wearing all black. his hands were covered, bones decorating the black gloves. gloves you’d seen many times before. gloves that had been pressed to gunshots, trying to stop the bleeding.
the lower half of his face was covered, allowing you to see from his eyes up. his sandy blonde hair was ruffled.
you quickly turned your attention back to price.
“love, what are you doin’ here? you should be in bed—” he began, but you waved a hand as you stepped further into the room. you pulled your iv pole in behind you, then kicked the door shut.
“don’t talk, just listen. i still mean what i said when you came to visit. the only reason im here right now is because you haven’t put in for my fucking transfer.” you hissed.
the captain’s eyes widened, his face taking on a sheepish expression at the revelation that he’d been caught. simon stood quietly beside him, eyes trained on you. you ignored him.
“love, i didn’t want to do anything before you were ready—” he began. you cut him off.
“bullshit! you didn’t want to do anything because you don’t want me to leave. you want me to forgive you, right? hear you all out? come back and be a happy little family again?”
the room fell eerily silent as you stared at the captain. your heart was roaring in your ears.
“put in the fucking transfer, john.” you finished.
he reluctantly nodded. he inhaled, his eyes glancing at his lieutenant briefly, before he spoke again.
“of course, love. ‘m sorry.”
you didn’t say anything else. you turned to go, your back to the men, when simon’s voice cut through the air.
“you should be respectful to your captain, sergeant.”
you froze as you took in his words. was he fucking serious?
you didn’t turn around. you trained your eyes on the door as you spoke words through gritted teeth.
“you should watch your tongue, lieutenant, before I fucking cut it off.”
with that, you pulled open the door and stepped into the hallway, slamming it loudly behind you.
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author’s note:
apologies for the wait! I hope everyone enjoyed! (this is being posted before proofreading, so I hope it’s okay— I’ll read through it later, it’s just late and im tired lol)
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lewishamil10n · 1 year
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working in a people-facing job has taught me i hate working in people-facing job
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irndad · 21 days
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a/n: continuation to this, but you don't necessarily have to read it first! all you need to know is reader got shot protecting maeve, and both survived. spencer has been in love with her the entire time.
“Have you called Maeve?” 
She asks it on a beautiful, rainy day, about five weeks after the event in question. She’s a little too nonchalant about the whole thing, has been from the start- Spencer’s been correcting for that. He’s been treating her like something fragile, a beautiful glass figure that was almost shattered. This is something he knows irritates her, but how can he not?
He tries not to think of it, but the memory of her in a hospital bed, bandages over her abdomen, the wooziness of giving her blood. He can’t help his caution, now. People assume, quite often that Spencer was unaware of the fact he’s in love with his best friend. Like it was something he didn’t know, didn’t have to live with. 
Spencer can be oblivious about a lot of things, but being in love with the person he’s shared a desk with for 4 years is not among them. 
“No,” he replies, looking up at her as she sits down, handing him the cup of tea she made him. They’re at his apartment. She’s been cleared for desk work, but Spencer had been nervous about the whole thing. They’ve fallen into a rhythm of her going to his apartment after work, and for how determined he is to tell her how he feels, he’s not really able to pluck up the courage.
“Spence,” she sighs, “You have to call her.”
“I did! When it happened, I called her. We talked. We just don’t talk anymore.”
She furrows her brow in an adorable way, and Spencer’s heart threatens to fall out of his chest. He’s been playing a game of she loves me, she loves me not in his mind for the. Past few weeks. 
Took a bullet to see me happy. She loves me. 
She stirs her ceramic spoon, the clink of it against the mug fills the silence. She bites her lip, clearly disappointed with his response. 
Wants me to call my not but kind-of ex. She loves me not.
She’s wearing this blue floral dress, and he is trying not to stare at where the fabric has ridden up, kissing the skin above her knee. She’s got lipstick on, and he tries not to read into how she’s sitting so close to him. Except he is kind of reading into it. 
Before she got hurt, he had tried to shove this feeling down- tried to ignore the swoop of his stomach when she walked by, or when she gave him a compliment, or when she let him do a card trick for her. He tried to shove down how much he fucking hated it the one time she had a date pick her up at the office. 
She’s just easy to be in love with. She writes little smiley faces on post-it notes and leaves them on his desk, and when the whole Emily thing had gone down, she’d spent weeks taking care of him through her own grief. 
She’s sitting on his couch. Five weeks ago, she was half-dead in a hospital bed, and now she is on his couch, in a beautiful dress after returning from the job they both share. 
He does not want to call Maeve. 
The comfortable silence turns tense as the episode of Doctor Who plays in the background, and he’s still a little gunshy- she’s breathing, she’s okay. He feels creepy, but he lets his eyes close for a moment so he can hear the sound of her breath, to know it’s still there.
“Spencer,” she says, after she pauses the show, and he turns fully to face her, “I am okay.” She grabs his hand, and he takes a couple of seconds to process the touch as she places it over her own wrist. ‘I am fine. They fixed me up. You are allowed to stop worrying.”
Her tone is even, but intentional. She’s giving him permission, as if his presence is some guilt-driven notion that’s stopping him from getting what he really wants. It’s true, though, that he doesn’t always believe she’s okay. Notices how she’ll wince when she bends a certain way, and the scar by her eyebrow is healing well, but he still searches for it in her face.
He savors the feeling of the soft skin of her wrist under his touch, running his fingers over the junction of her hand and wrist with delicate affection. How she hasn’t figured out he’s in love with her is anyone’s guess. 
He wonders what it would feel like to kiss her there.
“I know I can call her,” he manages to say back, meeting her warm gaze in a maybe too honestly in love glance, “I’m where I want to be.”
“Before I got hurt, you picked out an outfit, you asked for advice on dating, Spencer. You did that. I just-“ she sighs, moving her hand from his grasp and pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “The piece of you that wanted that is obviously still there. You don’t have to spend a Friday night with me in your apartment because you feel guilty that I got shot.”
“You’re not here because I’m guilty-“
“Then why-“
“You’re in my apartment right now because I am in love with you, and if you’re out of my sight for more than twelve hours than it’s like I forget that you’re still alive. That you didn’t get yourself killed before I ever got the chance to actually tell you.”
He’s not yelling. Well, he’s kind of yelling. Talking loudly, anyway. Her eyes widened and he’s hyperaware of how close she already was, is. She smells like lilies and her, and it’s all so present. She could have died. She might have never heard it. 
She’s heard it now, he supposes. All the weeks of agonizing, notebooks he’s managed to fill in the last few weeks trying to figure out a way to say it to her that could charm her into loving him back- all gone. He’s told her, now. 
All the cards are in her hands.
Her doe eyes almost sparkle at him, her head tipped to the side in a fond, loving gesture, and he wants to kiss her, wants to feel her faded-lipstick pout against his mouth. He wants his I love you to turn into I can have this. 
“Spence,” her voice is a trembling, insecure thing. One half of his mind wants to rage at him- there’s no way she’s going to tell him she loves him back, that someone like her could ever want someone like him. But the other half, one that seems dangerously like hope- she took a bullet for him. She didn’t even think twice. “You’re in love with me?”
It’s like it’s not even him who replies. Some bitter thing takes over his voice and speaks for him. 
“How could I not be? It’s you.”
It’s then he notices, that oh, she’s tearing up. 
A beat passes, and Spencer sucks in a deep breath before rambling an absurd amount. 
“You don’t have to- We can still be friends, obviously, you know that. But we can, I just- I needed to tell you because when you were in that hospital bed and you’d never heard me say it, I just couldn’t live with you never knowing. But now you do, and you don’t feel the same, and that’s okay-“
He doesn’t get to keep talking, because she grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him. She’s warm and beautiful and her hair brushes up against his cheek and there’s something in him that takes over when he moves to  cradle her head between his hands, both desperate to keep her in his grasp and savor the moments he gets to hold her. She tastes like cherry chapstick and something completely undefinable. 
When she pulls away after a moment that feels entirely too short, heavy lidded eyes meeting his in affection, and Spencer thinks he’d like to do that for the rest of his life. 
“I love you too,” she says back, and he commits it to memory, the sound of her so-sweet voice wrapping around the words he’s fantasized about hearing since the first time she smiled at his joke about philosophy. “I’ve loved you a really, really long time, Spence. I just thought I lost my chance, you know with- with everything. I never really thought I had one.”
He can’t even speak, really. He doesn’t think he can wrap his head around the fact that she felt like he wouldn’t like her back. 
It doesn’t feel like a concern, now, when he leans in to kiss her again. She smiles into him, and Spencer memorizes the feel of her waist encircled in his arms, when he realizes that this is the heart he is able to hold without limits. 
She loves me too, he thinks. She is safe, she is okay, and she loves me back. 
On the following Monday, when Morgan sees the two of them with linked hands before Hotch gets to the office, he doesn’t say anything. 
He does hand Emily 20 dollars, though. 
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thepromptswhisperer · 16 days
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"Is that a smile I spy?" Prompts
“Oh my god. You’re smiling!” “No, I’m not. Fuck off.”
“What? What’s with that smile?”
Try hard not to stare at the stunning (first) smile they see blossoming on the other’s lips.
“Why did they smile at you?”
“I can’t just smile on command.”
“Remember to smile every now and then, yeah? (We don’t want you to scare them all away.)”
“You’re so bad at this.” “I don’t know what you mean.” “The corners of your mouth. They are twitching.”
“You have the most beautiful smile, you know that?”
“I can’t stop smiling.”
Think their smile is ugly and try to hide it. The other is having none of it. 
“I hate when you smile like that.”
“A smile a day keeps the doctor away.” “Yeah… I don’t think that’s how the saying goes.”
“Is that a smile I spy?” 
Take on the (almost) impossible task to not break into a smile. 
“Say cheese!”
“I just want(ed) to make you smile.”
Cover their emotions with a smile, hoping nobody will notice. The other, however, catches on (almost) immediately.
“You can’t even hide your smile. So, spill. Who is this mysterious person that makes you all giddy and insufferable?”
“Uh-oh.” “What’s wrong?” “That’s their ‘oh, you messed with the wrong bitch, bitch’ face.”
“Stop smiling.”
“A smile could go a long way.” (“Well, mine went all the way to [country] and is currently enjoying its vacation there. So, you’ll have to come up with a better plan/idea.”)
“One smile from them and they’ll be putty in their hands. Watch.”
Their fingers tenderly pull up the corners of the mouth of the other. 
“It’s almost like you don’t know how to smile.”
As soon as the other leaves, their smile drops. 
“You look like an idiot.” “You know, other people would say it’s nice to see me so happy. Or that I have a beautiful smile.”
“My face hurts.”
"That should wipe the smile off their face."
"Uh-oh. I know that smile."
“So you can smile!”
Cannot help but smile in response to the one already on the other’s lips. 
“There it is, just the smile I was looking for.”
“Your smile is a knockout, baby!” “Why are you still standing then?”
“You look like you’re going to your doom instead of to a celebration/etc. Smile, for goodness sake.”
"You know very well what that smile of yours does to me."
“You just had to smile back at them, didn’t you?” “What else was I supposed to do? Ignore them?”
Feel the other smile against their lips/skin.
“I don’t like that smile.” “Then I doubt you’ll like what’s coming next.”
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tteokdoroki · 2 months
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⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — KATSUKU BAKUGOU. setting powder.
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about. whilst getting ready to meet your new boyfriend’s extended family — you learn that he knows a thing or two about doing makeup.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters aged up to 20s, enemies to lovers, meeting the family, new relationships, brief mention of injury and hospitals, reader wears makeup and dresses, pro hero!bakugou, nurse/doctor!reader.
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“we’re gonna be late, sweetheart.”
leaning against the door frame, bakugou crosses his arms over his chest — his perfect lips pulled into a suave smirk as he watches you finish your makeup for tonight.
“wha…huh? you said i had twenty minutes?” you’re still half dressed, your boyfriend’s baggy hoodie from an old merch collection draped over your sweet little dress to protect it from your foundation, your hair is tied back and away from your face so it doesn’t get in the way and though you’re still trying to blend your cream blush in with one of those sponge things — katsuki thinks you’re the most adorable thing in the entire world.
pushing himself off the door frame, he sits behind you on the bed — still watching you work at the vanity whilst he fixes the cuffs of his dress shirt. “that was twenty minutes ago,” the blonde rasps affectionately and grasps your at your jewellery laid out on the bed. the rough pad of his thumb traces over the ‘K’ on the silver heart locket he’d gotten you for your birthday before he undoes the clasp and places the chain around your neck — being mindful of your hair in the process. “y’said you’d be done by then.”
you catch your boyfriend’s vermillion stare in the reflection of your mirror — his subtle smile when he sees his initials dangling from your neck. it feels you with warmth to know that no matter what, katsuki will always find you beautiful and will always love you. even with how chaotic your makeup looks when half done. “i think i spent too long in the shower ‘n underestimated how long this look would take,” you sigh, reaching for your lip gloss next. you’ll have to put it in your purse, do your lips in the car. “do you think they’ll mind if we’re any later than this?”
“my parents won’t. neither will inko. deku — i mean — izuku will, but he’ll pretend he ain’t bothered,” bakugou prattles down the list, making a note of tonight’s attendees. it was tradition that the bakugous and the midoriyas had a monthly dinner together, it had been going on since the two pro heroes were children. only now, their partners were invited since they were family too. family included you.
you hadn’t gone to U.A and you certainly didn’t know katsuki until he became an up and coming pro hero. the first time he’d saved you, by the sidewalk of the hospital you worked at, you thought he was brutish and stuck up. you’d hated him and he’d hated you. but over time, and more frequent trips to A&E after saving civilians or sometimes after being wounded in villain attacks — you’d come to appreciate bakugou’s brooding personality and observant nature.
he’d come to like you too. how much you cared for others and wanted to make the world a better place. you reminded him a little bit of izuku, in a strange way.
so one night when you were on call, katsuki brought you flowers instead of a stomach wound that needed stitches and you’d given him a kiss instead of berating him about being careful, over vanilla and chocolate pudding cups from the hospital cafeteria.
signing impatiently, you bring katsuki back to present day. “i wanted to make a good impression on your aunty and on your best friend,” rubbing your arm nervously, you cast your gaze over the mess on your vanity — expensive products splayed across them in organised chaos.
“you will. they’re gonna love you. they already do,” bakugou stands behind you now, rough palms smoothing over your shoulders. “izuku says you’ve made me less bitchy at work. whatever the fuck that means.”
you giggle, eyes sparkling in delight as you look at the blonde in the mirror. “really?”
“really,” he nods sheepishly. the way you look at him makes him feel so loved. it’s new to him. nice to him. “now, whaddya need help with s’we can hurry up ‘n hit the road.”
you begin to ramble on, perking up at the idea of katsuki helping with the rest of your routine.“well… i’ve done my lashes, my eyes, my base and blush… i can do lips in the car. aside from putting on earrings and fixing my hair all i need is to set my face with—“
“settin’ powder,” bakugou grabs the little pot from your vanity as if he knew where it was all along, picking up a little face cushion as well as he prepares to get to work. “got it.” he dips the cushion into the translucent powder, rubbing the excess off on the back of his hand before leaning in real close to dab at the areas he thinks you need it. like your t-zone.
your boyfriend’s touch is like magic on your face, perfectly setting your makeup while making you feel like a pampered princess. “who taught you how to do this?” comes your shy mumble, his proximity to your face causing you to grow flustered and squirm in your seat. “h-how are you so good at it?”
“keep still, i’ll be finished faster if y’stop squirmin’ sweetheart. don’t wanna mess up what you’ve done already,” pausing his actions, katsuki gives you a toothy smirk — revelling in how bashful you’ve become under his touch while he helps you with your makeup. “…grew up behind the scenes of fashion shows ‘n shoots. so i picked up a thing or two i wanted to make sure i could still do it so i watched a couple of videos on it too. ‘n i noticed…you always put so much time ‘n effort into your makeup. wanted to help make the process easier for you.”
you feel as though you could melt at katsuki’s kind words and gesture as he dabs at your face a little more — tongue caught between the toes of his pew rlly white teeth as he sticks it out in concentration. he’s so cute it makes you want to scream. “you’re sweet,” you coo appreciatively, stilling yourself to let him finish before he pulls back — satisfied with his work. “i love you.”
it’s not the first time you’ve said it to one another, but the three words are still new to the both of you. “i uh…i love you more,” a pink, rosey hue rises on the surface of bakugou’s tanned skin and his red, loving eyes dart away from your face bashfully. “‘m gonna get your shoes ‘n jacket ready by the door while that sits. don’t forget your settin’ spray after you brush that shit off — oh ‘n don’t take my hoodie off until you’ve done that. don’t wanna ruin your dress, kay?”
“okay,” you respond fondly, hiding your smile at his very specific instructions. “i’ll be down in a minute.”
katsuki nods hesitantly, standing up as he gathers your belongings and outerwear — ready to load them up in the car, when he suddenly pauses in place. “you look beautiful tonight, sweetness. you always do.” he adds as one last parting message, before disappearing down the hall.
leaving you wondering how you ever lucked out with such a man. one who’s not only kind and gentle and loving, but a pro hero and a makeup artist at that.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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schrodingerscougar · 2 months
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Note: the 2nd part for this. fem!reader. cheating. i didn’t think you would like it so much, but since you did, here’s part two.
•••
Maybe if he watched you close enough, if he kept an eye on you while he was near, Simon would get the answers he was looking for. All he wanted was a glimpse into your mind, a glint in your eyes that would give away why you’d spent those nights by his side without saying anything about it.
The mission was slowly coming to an end, and he had overheard you and Johnny talk about your plans for your time home. The Scotsman offered to go on a short trip with you to Rome, visiting the city you’d read so much about in the past year or so. Going there was a promise you made to yourself on New Year’s Day and he was more than happy to help make it happen.
“Have you introduced her to your family?” Simon asked Johnny one evening when they went out for a drink.
The younger man gave him a confused look, but once the lieutenant motioned towards the corner of the bar where you were deep in a conversation with Laswell, his lips formed a flat line and he nodded a few times. “Yeah, well, I mentioned her once to my sister, and the next thing I know, my mother’s blowing up my phone. I’d rather keep her away from this insanity,” he explained.
“Wise choice.”
He hated this. He hated to know that Johnny was dating you, he hated to keep up this nice conversation with him, all while he was struggling to find out why you cared about him back then. His mind was full of stupid ideas again, that maybe you weren’t that deeply in love with the fellow sergeant. What if he was just your backup plan? What if the one you truly wanted was him?
Fucking hell. He was truly losing his grip.
“I’m going back to the base.”
Simon looked to the side, only to find you standing there with this adorable warm smile on your perfect, kissable lips. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Johnny taking your hand, his fingers lacing with yours before he raised it to his mouth to place a soft kiss on it.
He definitely didn’t have the right to be upset about it. Yet, he felt a pang of jealousy, and he was maybe even offended by the way Johnny’s blue eyes shined when he looked at you. His mind was telling him it should be him, even though he knew it was against the regulations.
“Let me finish my drink and I’ll walk you back,” Johnny said, but you just shook your head and told him he should take his time, have fun, and maybe he should talk to the others too. “You think I’m ignoring them? Well, I do spend a lot of time in the Lt’s company, that’s true,” he mused.
After he took a glance at the empty glass next to him, Simon had an idea. “I’m done for today anyway, I can go with her if you don’t want her to go alone,” he offered.
While Johnny seemed happy that he was kind enough to go with you, you looked hesitant. Unsure. Damn, if he didn’t know any better he would’ve said you looked scared for a moment. But why would you be scared? He didn’t do anything that could scare you.
In the end you agreed, so the two of you were soon out on the street, walking side by side. The need to reach out and take your hand poisoned Simon’s mind, and he decided to stuff his hands into the pockets of his jacket instead. He glanced over at you every so often, enjoying the view that he wouldn’t see for a few weeks at least.
“Why did you stay by my side in the infirmary while I was recovering?” he suddenly asked, his eyes fixed on you to see your facial expression.
And sure enough, at first you looked shocked. “What do you mean?” you inquired innocently.
With a sigh, Simon came to a halt and grabbed your wrist to make you stop as well. “I saw you there. And the doctor confirmed that you spent every night there with me while I was knocked out.”
“Look, it’s—”
“Why? I need to know,” he pressed on.
You buried your fingers into your hair as you spinned on your heels to turn away from him. “I don’t know, I just didn’t want you to be alone,” you admitted.
Once he took a deep breath, he was quick to blow it out. “So you stayed out of pity?”
“No! I mean… God, Ghost, I don’t know, okay? It just didn’t feel right to let you lie there on your own, I didn’t want you to wake up alone, and—”
He shouldn’t have done it, but it felt so good. Because Simon launched forward, his big palm placed on the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. At first you were frozen from surprise, but then you returned his kiss, lips moving against each other in perfect sync. He had been waiting for this for so long that he couldn’t even believe it was happening.
He was only pulled back to reality by your voice after you pulled away and took a few steps away from him. “What the hell are you doing?” you asked. “Fuck, what the hell am I doing?”
“It’s okay, we can always pretend it never happened,” he said with an aching heart.
“You don’t get it, do you?” When Simon shrugged and shook his head, you walked back to him and poked his chest with your index finger. “I’m with Johnny, this is totally against the rules, and no matter how badly I always wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you, this can’t happen again. But I know it happened and it’s going to torture me now.”
With a gulp, Simon nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me,” he said with a sigh.
To his surprise, you put a hand on his now masked cheek, a move so gentle that he was beginning to get very confused. And when you pulled down his mask, things got even more confusing, because you stood on your toes and kissed him again. This time you let yourself go, your fingers grabbing a fistful of his hair as you moaned against his lips.
“We should get going,” you said once you let him go and pulled his mask back to its place.
“I don’t understand what’s going on.”
Instead of answering, you flashed a smile at him, making his life a living hell by playing an innocent angel. But then you curled your finger to make him come a little closer. “Neither do I. But we will have to figure it out.”
(part 3)
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