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#i tried the positivity coping day by day shit and it does not work when im like this

chuuyascumsock · 7 months

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I am NOT a Sadist (I am) || Minors DNI

Summary; Sorry, not sorry. I love when there’s hurt feelings with emotional make-up sex :)

Tags; Chuuya Nakahara/Reader, Afab reader, Angst, Mentions Of Depression, Hurt/Comfort, I Totally Projected My Poor Communication Skills Onto The MC, Also Self Sabotaging, But She Gets Better I Swear, I Project A Lot Actually Lmao, Sounds Kind Of Like An Unhealthy Relationship At First But They Fix It, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, They Do Hurt Each Other’s Feelings A Little, Obviously There’s Crying, Pet Names (Baby, Doll, Sweetheart, Sweet Girl, etc.), Mention Of Phone Sex, Handjob, Fingering, Emotional Sex, Make-Up Sex, Creampie, Lowkey Breeding Kink If You Squint, Actually Pretty Vanilla For Once, Pussy Is Chuuya’s Therapy, Classic Missionary, Missionary Accomplished, Why Does No One Talk About Chuuya Going On His Overseas Trips And Leaving His S/O For Months At A Time, I Feel Like It’s Such A Good Angst Idea, My Longest Oneshot Yet Btw At A 5k Wordcount.

The honeymoon phase of your relationship with Chuuya ended quicker than you had anticipated. It felt like a slap in the face in all honesty, unexpecting of what you were really getting into as a normal civilian. Being married to an executive of the port mafia had its many upsides, yet no one really seemed to talk about the downsides and struggles of the mental toll that weighed on your conscience that came with the title as Chuuya’s wife.

Chuuya had always been there when you needed him, and you were grateful that even with his rough exterior and conflict with opening up emotionally he could empathize with your varying issues and emotional outbursts. You tried not to be emotionally high maintenance for the sake of Chuuya already having so much on his plate, and things had seemed to be going well for the time being.

Until he went away for his first overseas trip during your marriage.

It was normal for Chuuya to take overseas trips while you were dating, some lasting a few days to a few weeks at most and during those times you often texted him throughout the day about how much you missed him before calling later on when he was lying exhausted in a hotel room to talk about how both of your days had gone. Of course, it had often led to phone sex, ending with the camera angled against a pillow while your fingers worked in and out of your neglected, needy pussy– your face buried into his pillow and smothering your senses with what was left of his presence in your apartment. And Chuuya would stroke his throbbing length at the sight with languid motions, thumb swiping over his leaking tip as he murmured through the speaker about how he wished he could be there to feel you split open on his cock and fill you up with his cum. And every time he came back from his trips, your relationship seemingly grew stronger from the distance, spending all his free time with you whenever he got the chance.

And then Mori sent him away on a half year mission to Europe and everything seemed to go to shit.

It was different when you had been dating as it was for a few days to some weeks at most, but a six-month excursion made your throat clench and your heart ache with saudade. You tried to keep a positive mindset, yet it was harder as each day had passed and Chuuya grew too tired from the days’ events to even call anymore. Messages on his side grew shorter and dull by the end of the third month, only sending a small good morning and good night text with the occasional ‘I love you’.

Instead of bringing it up or attempting to fix it, you felt a sense of hopelessness and withdrew from him as well, not wanting to burden him with your spamming messages or feelings that could hinder him while dealing with an important mission. You spent the next three months stewing in a depressive state, loneliness eating away at you as you went day to day going to your job and coming back to an empty apartment. You stopped going out with your friends, stopped bothering to take care of yourself– completely ruining your sleeping and eating schedule in the process– leaving you with dark bags under your eyes and slightly paler looking complexion. You had grown so comfortable in Chuuya’s love and had no idea how to handle the situation you were in, fearing of saying something that would upset him.

When Chuuya had come back, he hadn’t noticed the change in your behavior– too tired himself to see the toll his absence had taken on you. But to you, your straining relationship was apparent, and it only fueled your depression as Chuuya spent less time with you when he got back home than he used to when you were dating. He was either working on other missions given by Mori within the area or spent his free time sleeping. You barely felt as if you were married anymore, your relationship seeming more like roommates who rarely ever interacted every passing day.

Your deteriorating mental health was beginning to wear your mind and patience thin, leading to a series of outbursts and fights between the two of you. You’d snap at him with an antagonizing start, and he’d finish with a frustrating end, either leaving to cool off or going to sleep on the couch. You could tell it was getting to him because he confronted you one day after he had mentioned that Mori was thinking about sending him on another grueling months-long overseas mission in America and you gave him the cold shoulder, closing yourself off from him.

“What the hell has been your problem lately, huh? You’ve been acting shitty for the last few weeks and it’s really starting to get on my nerves,” He gripes, crossing his arms over his chest defensively as he leans against the kitchen counter.

“I don’t have a problem, you’re the one starting things,” You tiredly glare at the words in your novel, wanting to read and forget everything falling apart around you, but it’s hard when Chuuya persists.

Chuuya scoffs, “Bullshit, you have this nasty attitude and it's been bothering the hell out of me– so what the hell is your problem?” He repeats, his eyes burning holes into the side of your apathetic expression from across the room.

“Good thing you won’t have to deal with it for long, huh?” You respond flatly, avoiding his question once again. You and Chuuya have always had an issue with things like this due to him being blunt when he was upset about something while you tended to dance around it and drawl the problem on longer than it had to be than if you were to talk about your problems from the start.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” His jaw sets, teeth clenching behind his scowl, “You know it annoys the hell out of me when you say cryptic shit like that— answer my question.” Chuuya’s temper was something no one enjoyed testing and you once feared setting him off, but now you couldn’t find it in you to care whether he blew up on you or not.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your next mission?” You’re metaphorically poking more than just a bear at this point; this is an entire fucking lion you’re sticking your hand into the mouth of– waiting for it to rip you apart.

Chuuya’s steps are heavy as he approaches you with a stern glare, “I’m not leaving until you tell me, I’m tired of these games, [name].”

His words make you snort bitterly as you mock, “Yeah, okay– like you’re not just Mori’s lapdog– at his every beck and call.” You know he’d leave the minute Mori sent a text or called asking where he was.

Chuuya’s face contorts in mild surprise and slight hurt at your words, not expecting you to stoop so low as to refer to him as a lapdog for Mori. “I really don’t know why the fuck you’re acting like this, but it’s seriously pissin’ me off. Can you just tell me what I supposedly did wrong to make you treat me like this? Because last time I checked, I didn’t fuckin’ do anything,” His statement was ironic in the sense that him not doing anything was the problem.

Your nostrils flare with a deep exhale in spiteful amusement, though nothing was amusing about it, because you knew you were going to regret everything you said after the fight was over.

“Of course, you didn’t,” There’s clear sarcasm in your tone, your hands now messing with the pages of your novel mindlessly.

“Why won’t you just talk to me!? I can’t read your mind– how can I fix a problem when you won’t tell me what I did wrong?” He starts to raise his voice in frustration. You can see his fists clenching from the corners of your eyes.

You only remove yourself further emotionally by shutting down completely. It was common for you to go completely non-verbal in any argument, the stress of the conflict physically affecting you in ways that kept you from speaking– like your throat tightening and tongue growing heavy in your mouth. This was another issue between you and Chuuya as he was the type to raise his voice whilst arguing to make himself and his feelings known, the complete opposite of yourself.

An inkling of doubt buries in your chest as you begin to think that maybe you’re not as compatible with Chuuya as you thought you were.

Chuuya notices your silence and he feels his impatience growing, his foot starting to tap against the floor with agitation as his hands fall to rest on his hips, “God dammit, [name], can you just tell me? I’m not in the mood to play detective and try to figure out why you’re playing your fucking games, I have shit to do.”

You find it in you to respond, though it’s weak and filled with animosity, “You always have shit to do.”

An exasperated sigh leaves Chuuya as he stands in front of you, “Is that what this is about? Because I have work? A job? Believe it or not, the mafia isn’t as lenient as to give me a day off, sweetheart,” He says sarcastically, throwing his hands up for emphasis. “Sorry that I have to serve an organization that will literally have my head if god forbid, I even thought about leaving!”

“You don’t even spend time with me anymore when you do have time off,” You rasp, your eyes set on the crumbling pages underneath your fingertips.

“I’m exhausted because I’m constantly working my ass off! Sorry that I can’t do fuck whatever and whenever like you can! Unlike you, I actually work for the things I want instead of sitting around and waiting for it to just fall into my lap!” Your brows furrow at his words, knowing it’s utter bullshit. But it still gets under your skin.

You could easily quit your job and live off of the makings of what Chuuya has— he’s even offered the idea before— but you wanted to keep a sense of independence and to continue to be productive instead of a burden that burns cash. Your conclusion is that it was to get back at your lapdog comment.

“And you know what? You have nothing to fuckin’ complain about because you get everything you want. Are you just bored? Is that why you’re starting shit? Or is it those friends of yours filling your head with bullshit?” He leans over to your eye level, his hands resting above his knees for support with a firm stare into the side of your face as you refuse to make eye contact with him.

You were over this. All of it. You were tired of the tension, the fighting, feeling the way you were.

Which led the next words to slip out from your mouth without a second thought, “I want a break.”

Chuuya’s scowl quickly shifted to a look of pure bewilderment, to immense hurt and slight panic, then to anger, “A break? You can’t just take a break whenever something doesn’t go your way, that’s not how this works.”

“I don’t care, I want a break,” It’s getting difficult to talk again as you feel your eyes begin to water.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me that,” He demands, almost hesitantly.

It takes minutes for you to finally look into his piercing gray eyes without crying and repeat your words, “I want a break.”

His body straightens and he brings a hand to rub at his eyes, his other hand on his hip. He seems disappointed and a whole lot of other emotions, but mostly frustrated at this whole ordeal. There’s a deafening silence before he drags his hand down his face and lets it fall to his side, “You want a break? Fine, I’ll tell Mori I’m going on the mission then and be gone by tomorrow morning— you’ll get your break.” He then storms off to finish getting ready for work, leaving you to sit alone on the couch, regretting everything that just happened.

And even when you still have the chance to stop him from walking out the door and just talk to him, you don’t. Instead, you stare down at the ring on your finger numbly, listening to his heavy footfalls as they move towards the front door and then the slamming that follows when he leaves.

You soon break down crying after, feeling as if you’ve lost everything. You know you could easily fix it with a simple text of wanting to talk things out, but the self-sabotaging nature in you refused to move a muscle. You cry for hours until your body grows exhausted, and you fall asleep on the couch in a tangled mess of some throw blankets and decorative pillows.

Hours later, Chuuya enters your shared apartment quietly, taking his hat off as he runs a hand through his hair. He’s tired just as much as you are with how things are going in your relationship, and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s lost and trying so desperately to figure out how to fix it, but he can’t when you won’t tell him what the problem is. He knows you struggle deep down with telling others about how you feel, and it makes him feel hopeless at times when you won’t even tell him how you feel.

His eyes trail over the living room before they fall on you and the blankets your body is buried under, your sleeping face peeking through. Chuuya takes light steps over to the couch before crouching in front of you and taking off one of his gloves, his hand slowly reaching out to move a few baby hairs away from your face. His eyes soften when he rubs away the tear stains on your cheeks with his thumb.

There’s a small ache in his chest from the events and words exchanged earlier, feeling a growing tightness in his throat. He didn’t mean it when he said those things and he knows you didn’t mean what you said. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t hurt any less.

He begins to feel guilt weighing on his consciousness. He replays all your expressions and words in his mind and starts to think about your reaction to the whole reason the fight started in the first place. It takes a few moments of him silently sitting next to the couch and caressing your face mindlessly until he finally realizes what’s been wrong the whole time.

When you wake up hours later, you’re no longer on the couch, but placed comfortably in your bed. You rub the crust from your eyes and feel a heavy weight in your chest like a bag of stones when the spot next to you is void of Chuuya. ‘He actually left,’ You thought, but you knew you had no one to blame but yourself— even if you had hoped that he would stay. Now fully awake, you slip out of bed sluggishly and shuffle out your bedroom.

A faint voice from the living room catches your attention and you notice that it’s the TV. There’s a small spark of hope that flickers in your stomach as you slowly creep into the living room. Relief settles in your heart to see the back of Chuuya’s head peeking from the couch. You make your way around the couch timidly until you’re in Chuuya’s sights. He stares tiredly at the TV before he sees you move into his view from the corner of his eye and looks over to you.

“I… thought you were going to go on the mission…” You whisper, anxiously twisting and fidgeting with the end of your oversized shirt that slightly hangs off your shoulders.

“I had Mori get someone else to do it,” Chuuya responds quietly, his eyes traveling your figure from top to bottom before propping an arm on the backrest of the couch as a silent invitation for you to sit next to him.

As soon as you sit next to him, his arm shifts until his callous hand rests on the nape of your neck, rubbing at your skin in a soothing manner. He pulls you into his side after a few moments and turns his face slightly to press a soft kiss against your hairline.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” He starts off, sincere in each word as he continues, “Why didn’t you say anything?” It sounds almost rhetorical because you know he knows why on a surface level, but he doesn’t know why.

You’re silent for a bit before hesitantly answering, “I didn’t want to stress you out by making you feel like you had to constantly tend to me.”

“You’re my wife, not a burden. No matter how stressed out I am, I don’t want you to ever think that you can’t come to me with your feelings or just to bother me. I know I was gone for a long time, and I shouldn’t’ve become as distant as I had, but–” He sighs out in exasperation, “–Baby, you’ve gotta communicate with me. I don’t wanna fight like this and worry about our marriage. I want us to work out– I need us to work out because…” Chuuya trails off before moving his body to turn towards you and tilt your chin up with his other hand to look you in the eyes.

“I need you, [name]. You’re my person. Okay?”

Your chest throbs and aches at his words as his slate gray eyes flicker over your face and then meet your now watering eyes, “You’re my person too, Chuuya. I’m sorry…” You croak out through quivering lips and break down into tears, leaning forward to bury your face into his chest. “M’sorry– didn’t mean anything I said last night– won’t do it again,” You stumble over your words through muffled sobs.

Chuuya moves his hand from your chin to hold the back of your head, pressing you into his chest as he kisses the top of your head, “I know you didn’t, sweetheart. I didn’t mean what I said either. You know I love you, right?”

You nod, your small sobs and hiccups muted by his loose tank top as you hug your arms around his torso to pull him to you as close as possible, “I love you too…”

He pulls you back reluctantly from your embrace and cups your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, “I promise that I’ll make an effort to be a better husband, I don’t want you to feel like that ever again. I shouldn’t have neglected you like that and made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me. That’s the last thing that I want.”

“I’m gonna do better too, promise,” You sniffle, trying to hold back from anymore tears falling down your face, “Wanna be better for you.”

“I wanna be better for you too, doll,” He murmurs before his face grows closer to yours to place a soft, innocent kiss against your lips.

Your hands come to clasp over his own that cup your face and your eyes lull into his fond gaze, “I missed you,” You whisper with longing.

“I missed you too, baby. It killed me not being able to wake up next to you every morning n’see your pretty face,” He exhales gently, kissing you again.

Your heart stutters at his words and you reciprocate the kiss, refusing to pull away as quickly as before. When your lashes flutter open, you lean your face into his touch, “I need you, Chuuya,” And it’s clear to him that it wasn’t meant in just an innocent manner.

“Yeah? Missed me that much, sweet girl?” His nose nudges against yours affectionately before capturing your lips into a sensual kiss. Feeling his lips smother against yours and the ring on his finger to remind you of his undying love and devotion to you only encourages the simmering heat in your chest and lower stomach. And when he mumbles a muffled, “C’mere,” against your lips, you’re quick to climb into his lap and thread a hand into his ginger hair. He hums in amusement at your eagerness and moves his lips to trail pecks along your jaw and down your throat, “Always were so needy f’me and I fuckin’ love it– love everything about you, doll.” He groans under his breath, hands heavily groping at any part of your plush body to keep you against him.

“Only for you, it’s always been you,” You breathe out with a shaky exhale and Chuuya is unable to hide the small whimper that escapes the back of his throat.

“Fuck, it’s always been you too, doll. I love you so much it hurts,” He pulls you back down into a desperate and hungry open-mouthed kiss, his tongue seeking out until his muscle is entangling with yours.

Your face flushes with warmth as you mold your lips against his feverishly, head tilting to deepen the kiss until you’re both panting for air into each other’s mouths, “Please…” You plead, squirming in his lap.

“I know, babydoll, I feel it too,” Chuuya groans quietly, feeling your thinly clothed pussy skim over the bulge in his gym shorts. “Wanna take this slow though, need to feel all of you, okay?” His hands cup the bottom of your thighs as he moves off the couch to stand up, your lips not parting for even a second as he makes his way to your bedroom and over to the bed. When his shins bump against the bottom frame of the bed, he leans over to lay you down on the mattress gently, lips leaving yours to move back down the expanse of your neck. You shiver, fingers messily tangling into his locks of hair whilst your other hand finds its way in between your bodies to run your hand over his erection. “F-Fuck,” Chuuya breathes out against the skin of your throat, hips jerking forward into your touch. “God, it’s been so long, I almost came,” He admits with embarrassment before latching onto a small patch of your skin to suckle at, pressing kisses to the spot occasionally.

“Baby, please— wanna touch you so bad,” Was all you had to whine before he slips his baggy gym shorts off to reveal his stiff, throbbing cock. Your hand wraps around him, thumb pressing to his leaking slit to swipe at the precum dribbling out to spread it along his length with a few pumps of your hand. There’s a quiet “schlick” each time your wrist flicks to draw your hand back up to his angry mushroom tip before moving back down to the base of his shaft.

Chuuya is unashamed when he lets out airy moans against your neck that’s now littered with his love marks, “Shit, you’re s’fuckin’ good, baby— just like that.” His right hand finds its way under your large shirt to grab at your underwear and pull at it until it tears off you.

“Chuuya,” You whine in complaint, watching him toss the now torn fabric onto the floor, “I liked those.”

“S’okay, I’ll get you more, sweetheart, promise,” His teeth dig into his bottom lip as he slips his middle and ring finger through your folds to spread your glistening sex open. “Look at how fucking wet you are, you like jerkin’ me off that much, pretty girl?” He groans, eyes glued to your hole clenching around nothing.

You bury your face into the crook of his neck timidly as your hand pumping around his cock falters slightly from the way he talks, “C-Chuuya…”

Chuuya chuckles before softly moaning into the side of your head, face nuzzling affectionately into your hair, “C’mon, doll, don’t be shy, look at how your sweet little cunt takes my fingers.”

Flustered, you peek from his neck to watch his digits dip into your arousal, dragging them up to circle over your clit a few times and then slipping down to sink into your pulsing walls. Whilst his fingers weren’t considered long, they have you twitching from pleasure with how thick they are. “Feels good,” You slur out as your hand squeezes around the base of his cock.

“Yeah? You love it when I stretch this pussy out with my fat fingers, huh?” He sucks in a short breath as he tries not to come right then and there in your hand as he fingers his digits in and out of your squelching pussy. “My sweet girl likes having her hole stuffed by her husband, hm,” His fingers work faster in and out of your cunt as he angles his thumb to draw rough circles into your needy clit.

Your grip and stroking around his length only continues to falter as your thighs spasm softly, “M’gonna come— fuck— Chuu, noo, no, no…” You squirm, your other hand tugs his hair.

“What’s wrong, doll?” Chuuya’s fingers slow to a stop, causing you to whimper from the ebbing buildup of your orgasm. He’s the same as you when he feels your hand come to a stop around his shaft.

“Wanna come on your cock,” You mumble into him, “Want you to fill me up with your cum.”

Chuuya feels his heart thrum in his throat wildly as he hears you speak before making quick work of your shirt and his tank top until you're both as bare as you were when you were brought into the world. “Yeah? Need me to fill your cute pussy up until my cum is spilling outta ya?” He hovers over you between your spread thighs as he hooks your legs over his hips.

“Just wanna feel you close to me,” You admit with a sweet and quiet voice, your legs drawing him in until his throbbing cock is rubbing between your pussy lips with his tip nudging at your puffy clit.

His eyes widen barely before softening, his movements becoming less erratic and eager as he leans down to place a gentle kiss against your lips. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head, doll, m’gonna take care of ya like I always do.” He whispers, his right hand moving to guide the tip of his cock against the entrance of your core. Much like his fingers, his thick length bullies into your warm pussy slowly, stretching and splitting you open on his cock. “Fuuuuck, baby, you take me so well. Can’t get enough of seeing you stretch open on me.”

Your legs tighten around him as you feel his hips press against yours until his balls are flush with your ass, “You’re s’big— it hurts every time, but it hurts good,” A small whimper leaves you as your hands grip at the bedsheets.

When Chuuya pulls away, he watches his cock twitch from the loss of warmth your tight hole provided before seeing it stretch you back open to fill you. “God, I’ll never get over you,” He hisses through his teeth, pistoning his cock in and out of you at an agonizing pace, “Your pussy was made for me.”

Chuuya’s gaze isn’t on where your bodies connect for long before he’s back to hovering over you, pinning your hands above your head. They’re placed palm up on top of one another before being locked in place with his left hand interlocking your fingers. The action makes your heart tighten with affection as well as your fingers when you squeeze his hand. The subtle noise of metal clinking from your wedding bands only makes your heart swell with pure unadulterated love for him further. Your eyes start to water again from the overwhelming emotions and love you feel for him.

He squeezes your hand back in comfort, eyes studying your teary face, “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that, doll?” He says out of nowhere, “M’so lucky to have you.”

You clench around him as you stare back through blurry eyes back into his focused ones, moaning from the way his tip kisses at your g-spot with each thrust. “Mm— Lucky to have you too— you’re so good to me, Chuu,” You mewl out, feeling your stomach twist and coil with intensity.

“Want you to come for me, please, baby— wanna make you come,” Chuuya’s words grow more pitchy and airier as he reaches his right hand down to rub at your throbbing clit with vigor.

“A-Ah, fuck—“ Your body arches, hips erratically bucking into his, “C-Coming..! Shit, s’too much.” You sob, tears slipping down your temples and into the mattress. Your cries are soon silenced by Chuuya’s lips swallowing your noises in a passionate, yet sloppy kiss. You muffle incoherently against his lips, but he knows it’s a repeated line of I love you’s as your nails dig into the back of his hand and you cream around his length.

As your walls spasm around his twitching cock, a guttural groan leaves his throat and he spills his hot, viscous cum deep into your starving pussy until it’s leaking out of your tight hole and down his balls. “Atta girl…” He murmurs through pants, kissing your sweaty forehead lovingly.

“I love you,” You repeat gently one last time as you both relish in the softness of your afterglow.

“I love you too,” Chuuya sighs with a ghost of a smile on his face as he admires you underneath him, hand coming down from your hands to wipe away your stray tears, “Promise me you won’t go anywhere, doll? Cause I’ve still got years of loving you left to go.”

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya smut #chuuya nakahara smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #devious dambi smuts

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hyukaslvr · 2 months

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strong enough | J. Jungkook (2)

<series masterlist

pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader

genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut

warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds

w.c: aproxx 10.2k

series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.

a/n at very bottom!

the mirrors of your practice room were foggy, the heat radiating off of your whole groups bodies as you worked your hardest to perfect all the choreographies to your newest album. you worked especially hard since last week, you took a long time to really think about what happened.

“we both know you’re just as messy,” Jungkook spat at you, you bit back your tears and fought your conscience screaming at you to walk away. this isn’t something you would just walk away from, not with your boosting ego.

“this is why we won’t work out, Jungkook, you’re acting like a bitch. fix yourself, i’ll fix me. i thought you were doing better, but it seems like you’re still the dick you were during all our fucking arguments,” you grabbed your belongings and starting walking away from his frozen figure, his words hitting him like a brick in the face. you came out here with him hoping you could talk to him, make him remember the reason why you weren’t communicating things or in contact, but he just proved to you why you shouldn’t have came.

Jungkook sat back down, right where you sat, thinking over things. anytime he would see you, he felt this rage build up inside of him. the rage coming from nowhere, yet appearing whenever your pretty face shows up in his sight. he hates it. he swore to control his anger, the way he acted when things didn’t go his way, but apparently anger management isn’t enough for him.

it’s not that he hates you, he adores you, he loves you. but sometimes, he feels like he can’t stand you. you act like you have everything in your life sorted out, when you don’t, not without him. it might be toxic of him to think of you that way, but it’s true. you know it’s true, deep inside and past your wall that you’ve built up for no one to see behind your cute personality set for the stage. only he knows the real you, at least he thinks, and he knows you have a shit ton of problems just like him.

Jungkook clenches his fists, his knuckles turning white at the thought of how he spoke to you. you don’t deserve that, but at the same time, he rightfully believes you need someone to put you in your place sometimes. but at the same time, you wish someone would knock some sense into Jungkook and make him grow up, even if he grew up way to fast, he still is childish as ever when it comes to talking about things.

you snapped out of your state of thought as one of your members patted your back, telling you to drink up some water before starting again. you wiped your face with a towel before gulping down half of your bottle, tossing it on the floor, and starting up again. thank god that you have therapy tomorrow, you thought as you stand in position once again, waiting for the music to start up.

“he said that to you?” your therapist questioned, jotting down notes quickly so you can speak more about how you felt during that moment. you felt angry, sad, all of the above. out of all people you thought would understand, Jungkook was the one you felt would. yet, he opens his mouth and speaks mean words towards you like he always did when he was struggling, never able to control what he says. but who were you to talk, you did the same things, but you were for sure better at controlling it.

“i thought we were ready to talk about why we actually broke up, i thought i was to say at the least, he for sure wasn’t,” you sighed, picking at your skin around your fresh pedicured nails out of habit. it breaks your heart, seeing him that way, he only acts like that when he’s in a deep place. you can visualize him going home, and immediately changing into work out clothes, beating on his punching back until the chain gives out, his knuckles bleeding with open wounds.

but then again, who’s ever ready to talk about a long relationship ending? at the time, walking to the park in the freezing cold, you felt ready. you walked high and proud as you were side by side with the man whose heart you constantly break. maybe he did have the right to act that way, but it still hurts coming from him. yeah, you had to figure out your shit, but so did he, so him acting like that felt hypocritical.

“darling, no one is ever ready to talk about why relationships end the way they end,” she starts again, it’s was like she was reading your mind as you sat there quietly in thought, “maybe you should of waited, but know you know for sure that now isn’t the right time to get back together, no matter how much you both want and crave it,”

“we’re like the same person, at least i like to think so. i just want him to understand why i do what i do,” it makes your head hurt thinking about reasons why he couldn’t try to understand you at the least, it was the least he could do along with loving you. he was always so unreasonable with mental health.

“just give him some time to think about what he said and how he can fix things over time, time heals everything,” bullshit.

you felt like a mess, sitting in front of the vanity mirror as you get your hair fixed by your stylist, her sweet smile as your eyes reached hers in the mirror comforted you in the slightest, you just had to get through tonight and then you’ll be able to be alone in your dorm room, in the comfort of your own bed.

“feeling anxious?” your leader lets her head fall on your shoulder, smiling at the glitter in your inner corners and poking your cheek in awe, “you’ll be okay, at least you’re pretty and have curly hair,” her finger twirls the curl resting in the small ponytail in your hair, letting it boing back to place.

once your stylist was done, she spun your chair to face your leader, who bent down to fix the curls in your face, cupping your cheeks once she was done and smiling down at you, “i just wish to be home right now,” you sigh, practically melting into her hold and she squishes your cheeks in response. you wanted to cry, the amount of promotions you had this week drained every last bit of emotion out of you.

“just put a smile on that frowny face of yours, get out there and look as cute as you always do during fansigning, we’re gonna have a party tonight!” you groan in response, she lets go of your face to cross her arms across her chest, noticing your negative response to the idea of partying, “what’s wrong with getting wasted after all these promotions? it’s not like anyone else will be there,”

that was a lie, you sat in a corner of your shared house with group after group showing up and partying, while you just wanted to be in your bed. maybe if you get drunk enough, you can dance with a random and have some fun tonight, you thought while staring at your other members already claiming other males to dance with. the lights flashing making your head hurt, as you stood up to get another glass of your drink.

there was yelling going on around you, but you chose to ignore it and downed half of your cup before heading towards your room, planning on locking your door and drowning all the noise of the party out with music. but your heart and feet stopped when hollers from the front door caught your attention. the person who took feet away from you, you wished to disappear out of his sight. no, it wasn’t Jungkook, right about now you wished it was instead of the monster who stood close in front of you, but far away at the same time

Choi Jaehyun, also known as the dick that cheated on you, also known as the abusive alcoholic you had dated, also known as the reason for the way you were now. one little glance towards his way made you gag, in shock and disbelief that he would dare to even show up here. the first thing he did was grab a beer, like he always did at his house after hitting you like you were the cause of all his problems.

it makes you ache, your heart especially knowing you loved his shit ass self at one point, thinking that he would change if you just covered up all the marks he would leave on you. after that relationship was over, your leader swore at you to never get back into another relationship until you got over him. you were over him, to say the least, but not over the way he made you feel. he made you feel worthless, ungrateful, unworthy, like a weakling.

“you think you deserve to be out there in the spotlight, like the bitch you are?” he spat in your face, his hands close to your face making you feel like something was coming towards you.

“baby, please just sit down and listen to me-” another smack hit your cheek, the tingling burned and made you call out in a cry, “jaehyun! please, stop and just have a drink-” you gasped out, the tears burned your eyes but slightly cooled the heat of your cheek.

“drink some more, is that what you fucking what? you want me more drunk so you can run away again?” he grabs your cheek hard, pulling it as he backed you against the cold of the refrigerator. you tried to focus on the loud humming coming from the damn thing, instead of the burning sensation of his hand pinching at the same place he just whacked you, “you’ll never be able to get away from me, not again, baby,”

the tears flowed from your cheeks, his body now facing you as your memory fades away to a new one standing infront of you currently. the look of his face, like he didn’t expect you to be at your own groups party, what a fucking idiot. before he could walk towards you, you grabbed your drink and stormed past him, ignoring the ringing affect his call of your name had to your ears. you told yourself, that where ever he was, you weren’t going to be, never, ever again.

you left the house in nothing but a thin jacket, you walked until your legs gave up on you. once you sat down, not knowing where you were or where your legs were walking you to, you looked up at the dark sky. the lights of the stars twinkling above you, giving you some comfort of the unbearable memories you had. you wished you could just deleted everything, every moment you had that with sick man. but it stays with you, like a parasite eating away at your skin.

you sniffled as you calmed down, whipped out your phone to dial someone, anyone to come get you and to be in the comfort of someone’s arms. you scrolled and scrolled, hoping to see someone’s name that warmed your heart at the sight of it. your eyes scoped around your contacts, hoping for anyone’s name to pop up.

Park Jimin. you quickly dialed his number, knowing he would pick up in a heart beat, like he always did for you.

“are you sure you’ll be okay on the couch? my bed is just as comfortable, even more at that,” he spoke as softly as you remembered, he tucked you into the couch and making sure you were comfortable enough to sleep away your puffy eyes.

“i’ll be okay out here, Jimin, i promise,” Jimin was the only other member, besides Hoseok, who knew about you and Jungkook. he allowed you to come over time to time when ever you and Jungkook would have problems, problems that were always better than what Jaehyun ever put you through. you believe that why you always went back to him, back to the comfort of his aura because he truly loved you. he loved every bit of you, but he couldn’t handle every bit of you.

Jungkook would never, you thought as you rolled over, facing the back of the couch as Jimin accepted the fact you chose the couch over his bed and went upstairs to get some sleep for himself. Jungkook had his angry issues, but he would never show abusive tendencies towards you, no matter how mad he was. he never raised a hand towards your way, he never laid a finger on you. it took you awhile to trust him, but that trust never once left even after you left him multiple times. but, to never bring up the memories that made you feel like a burden, you never once mentioned your past relationship, no matter how many times Jungkook would beg to talk about your exes.

“you should start writing in your journal again, _____” Jimin spoke over his shoulder, his hands working on making your eggs the way you loved them, “i know that helped you at times like this, even if i don’t know what actually happened for you to end up 10 minutes away from my place,”

“it’s better not to talk about it, for my sake,” he nodded in agreement, letting you know he won’t budge any information out of you since he knows the way you looked when he picked you up from the random street you sat at. you always wanted to tell him about your past, what changed you into the mess you are now and why you can’t seem to stay stable at any current time of the year. just because it happened years ago, doesn’t mean it doesn’t affect you to talk about it, even if you trusted someone with your life, “you know what? that might be a good idea,” you spoke up after the minute of slience between you both.

you’ll write about everything bothering you, maybe you’ll be able to pick at the pieces broken inside of you to figure out how to handle all of your problems with Jungkook, but mainly yourself. you always need to put yourself first, your therapist would tell you, no matter how badly the other person is struggling, and you stood by that.

you never wanted to leave Jungkook, you never wanted him to feel like he wasn’t good enough for you love. you wanted him to feel like he was on the top of the world with you, to make him feel important and loved the way he should. what he doesn’t know, is that he was the reason you wanted to get better. he always told you, that you deserved everything heading towards you that was good. if the good was getting better and becoming healthy, hell yeah, you deserved that shit like it was a grammy.

so once you got back to the dorms, letting all your members and your worried leader know that you were at a good friends house after the party, you headed to your room with a fresh new notebook, ready to jot down all your feelings and thoughts that you let eat you alive everyday.

to my past, fuck you, sincerely. you deserve nothing, you don’t deserve to take over my life. i will get rid of you, i will get better, i deserve to be happy, i deserve to become a butterfly instead of moth. moths are pretty, but trust, i will be a beautiful monarch.

cheesy, you know that, but it’s true. so true that you continue to write until your hand cramps around your pen. you will get better, it just takes time, but time definitely does not heal everything.

a/n: i low-key hate writing angst, but here we are! this is a reminder that you are not alone if you’ve ever went through abuse or trauma with abuse, you will always have people out there for you and you have help too. there are hotlines on top of hotlines, please don’t be afraid to speak up about it, no matter what. i love you all, and never feel like you can’t reach out to talk to me, dm me about anything! you are all worthy and beautiful and deserve the best🩷. here are some hotlines: 1, 2, 3

taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @joonsproperty @jk97bam @dna-black-and-blue

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callsign-bunnie · 8 months

Text

Old Habits Die Hard

Ghost is discharged from the SAS after a pretty severe suicide attempt. Now he's forced to live life as a civilian which is... pretty fucking boring. Hence why he jumps at the opportunity to beat the shit out of two punks who come in the rob the store. However, when it turns out they're part of an actual gang who has decided he needs to die... well, things get a hell of a lot less boring. Oh yeah, and he needs to talk to Soap, apparently.

Tap.

Price would have had a fit if he saw the habit that Ghost had picked up. Well, less a fit. Would have told him to knock it the fuck off, but… Well, fuck that old man. He’s the one who put Ghost in this stupid fucking position and Ghost had to cope somehow.

Ghost went back to tapping his fingers on the glass of the cigarette counter, grateful but bored with the lack of customers at the drugstore he now worked at. Why did he work at a drugstore? His stipend didn’t cover rent anywhere in his Province and he didn’t really want to go anywhere else. Plus, a job would “give him something to do”, according to Alex, who was the only fucker he still talked to.

Well, that was a lie. Okay, really, he just didn’t talk to Soap, Price, and Gaz. The latter because he didn’t talk to Ghost and… well, Soap and Price had both advocated for his discharge. Maybe he was being petty with being mad at them. Maybe he did need to be discharged but… well maybe Ghost wasn’t one to forgive easy. Not yet. One day, he would. But… Not yet.

Actually, working where he did wasn’t too bad. His boss was gone most of the time and there really weren't too many customers, so he was mostly left alone. Thankfully, too, because he’d rather be bored than dealing with people.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and for a moment he considered just ignoring it but… no. He got it out, unsurprised to see Unknown Caller. Alex. He had to use secure phones to make sure no one could track him using their phone calls.

Sighing softly, he answered the phone, leaning against the counter. “Alex.”

“ Hey, man! It’s been a couple weeks since we talked. How are you doing?”

“I’m okay.” Ghost lied. He knew Alex would know it was a lie, but he never called him on it. Alejandro would say it was bullshit to Ghost’s face which… Ghost would reluctantly admit he appreciated it. Sometimes, he needed someone to take him at his word, sometimes he needed someone to call him out.

Now, he really didn’t want anyone to call him out. “How are you?” He asked, genuinely caring about the answer. Alex and Alejandro had become Ghost’s only friends. So, he wanted to know how they were doing.

“ Good! Really good. I uh… got to see Gaz, again. He and Price were out here helping Farah find me when I had, you know, gone missing again. They just left.”

Ghost barely resisted teasing him about Gaz. “That’s good. I’m glad they still help you.”

“ Have you uh… talked to Soap, lately?”

Ghost just snorted and then sighed. “I’ll talk to Mactavish one day, but… not for now, no. I tried.” Once. “All he did was apologize.”

“ He does feel bad.”

“Did you call me just to convince me to talk to him?”

“... maybe. I may have promised Gaz that I’d try to talk to you. Soap is, apparently, really torn up about it. Price sent him to Las Almas while he and Gaz were helping us so Alejandro and Rodolfo could babysit him. ”

Ghost wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t feel bad. But… when Soap had agreed and pushed for Ghost to be discharged… Ghost had felt betrayed. Soap had claimed it was for Ghost’s own good, but Ghost had, only a week before, confided in Soap and told him how badly he needed the military to stay sane. How he had nowhere else to go if he wasn’t there.

“ Ghost. You almost fucking killed yourself because of a PTSD episode. ”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Ghost defended. Hey, he hadn’t said it wasn’t justified. It just… made him feel betrayed.

Alex sighed. “ You don’t need to, Ghost. I know how you are. We’ve been friends for a while now. Since Verdansk. ” Honestly, even before Verdansk. They’d worked a few missions before, though Ghost had been freshly traumatized and hadn’t wanted to admit he still needed friends.

Ghost grumbled under his breath before just sighing. “You’re right.” He admitted. One thing he’d been working on was not sabotaging his friendships. “Thanks for calling, Alex.”

“ Of course, Ghost. You’re my friend, I want you to be okay. Just… look, the old man says you don’t have to talk to him, but… talk to Soap. At least tell him you’re not mad at him.”

Ghost huffed. “I am mad-”

“ Lie! ” Alex almost sounded like he was snapping at Ghost, but Ghost knew what Alex snapping sounded like. “ Lie, like everyone does to make you feel better. ”

“Ouch. Low blow.” Ghost mumbled, just hearing Alex hum in response. “Alright, alright. I’ll… think about it.”

“ I guess that’s really the best I can ask for. ”

“It is.” Ghost agreed and then frowned when he heard the bell for the door chime. “I have to go. Bye.”

“ Alright. Talk to Soap! Bye. ” Alex hung up and Ghost shoved his phone back in his pocket, shaking his head.

He really did appreciate him, even if his correct advice irritated Ghost sometimes. Ghost went back to tapping on the glass of the cigarette counter, watching some young teenager walk around the store. He didn’t look like a delinquent, so Ghost didn’t bother to keep that close of an eye on him.

He did, however, keep a very close eye on the two new customers that had walked in. Both were dressed in dark clothing with their hoods up and Ghost could see tattoos peeking out of their hoods, on their necks. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Wannabe gangsters who, if faced with even the slightest bit of actual organized crime, would likely end up pissing their trousers.

Snot nosed little prats, essentially.

God, he hoped they’d do it. He hoped they’d try to make a few hundred off of that store. Do it, please.

The first one to enter finally came up to the counter with some sodas and a few candy bars. A bag of Malteasers, too. Ghost, occasionally continuing to glance to the other two, rang up the items, unable to help noticing how the kid shrank away from him. “What’s your name?” Ghost asked, though he didn’t honestly care.

“Dean…” The kid answered, avoiding Ghost’s eyes. “I just got off school.”

Ghost had been like that, once. Felt the need to over explain so no one would think he was trying to cause trouble. He’d more than outgrown that, since he couldn’t care less what anyone thought he was doing.

He continued to ring up the items, about to tell him the total, when one of the two delinquents came up to the counter. “Hey, my mate needs help.” They said, not at all looking urgent. Ghost noted that they had a tattoo that looked like a dragon coiled in a spiral. He kind of liked it, actually. May get something similar.

“I’ll help in a moment.” Ghost said, trying not to roll his eyes. His boss had mentioned him being nicer to the customers, so he decided to make an effort. “Let me finish ringing this customer up.”

“No, he needs help, now .” A gun was pulled and pointed directly at Ghost. Ghost, however, just stared down the barrel.

The kid immediately backed up, but the gun moved and pointed at him instead. “Don’t fucking move, or I’ll blast your head off.”

Ghost felt giddy. He felt excited. “Let him go-” He stopped and raised his hands as the gun moved to be pointed at him, instead, and he sighed. “Look, I’ll comply with whatever you ask. I’ll empty the till, hell I’ll get in the safe, just let the kid go.”

“You’ll comply with whatever I ask, regardless,” The delinquent all but growled, shoving the barrel of the gun into Ghost’s shoulder, “but uh… fine. The kid can go.” He gestured and Ghost handed the kid his bag, before the kid immediately ran off.

“Ethan!” The other called, coming up to the counter right as the kid was running off. “Why the fuck did you do that?! He’s seen our faces!”

“Yeah, as if that will matter. He’s a kid, he probably forgot.” Ethan muttered and then shook his head. “Alright, old man, open the till.”

Ghost had to resist grabbing the delinquent's face and slamming it into the glass counter, just turning and putting his keycode in to open the register. He had to fight not to get over excited and just beating the shit out of them. He was fairly certain that gun wasn’t loaded, but smart enough to avoid risking it.

He took his time, however, watching them eye him as he got out the bills and laid them on the counter. “Your bracelet,” The unnamed one said. “I like it, I want it.”

“Too fucking bad.” Ghost refused to give them that. Maybe he was mad at Soap, but it’d been a gift. One he deeply appreciated and didn’t want to lose.

“Give him the fucking bracelet!” Ethan cursed and pointed the gun right at Ghost’s head, shaking it as if to punctuate his point.

Ghost stared down the barrel, knowing exactly what type of gun it was. .22, no modifications. Of course not, why would it have any? Ghost leaned forward and put his forehead on the gun. “Do it. Because you’re not getting that bracelet.”

Ethan looked in his eyes and for a moment, Ghost thought he saw his finger tighten around the trigger, but then he saw it. Hesitation. He didn’t want to kill anyone.

Ghost immediately took advantage of that, reaching up and yanking the gun out of Ethan’s hand, moving his head to the side as the movement caused Ethan to flinch and pull the trigger. Glancing behind himself, he saw a bullet hole in the wall. So it was loaded.

Huh.

He released the magazine, seeing it indeed was loaded and just dropped it, shaking his head and slamming the gun onto the counter. “Idiots.”

“Who are you?” The unnamed one immediately asked, his eyes widened.

“A ghost.” Ghost simply answered before reaching over, grabbing the back of his head, and slamming his face into the counter, grateful when it didn’t break. He then used his elbow to hit Ethan full force in the face, leaping over the counter as Ethan stumbled.

He took said bracelet, which was a very thick steel chained bracelet, and slid it up and over his hand, wrapping his arm around the unnamed one’s neck and starting to slam the side of his now chain wrapped fist into the unnamed one's face after maneuvering so he could.

However, before he could do any real damage, something was slamming into his side, sending him into a shelf, causing it to topple over with him on top of it. The air was knocked out of his lungs and he coughed, slowly rolling over so he could push himself to stand back up.

“Are you okay?” He heard Ethan ask the other and he glanced back, seeing Ethan was touching the other’s nose. “Dan, are you okay?”

“Oh, piss off. Let’s just fuck this asshole up and go. Fuck the cash.” Dan’s nose was bleeding heavily and it dripped down his face and his neck. He looked pissed, but Ghost didn’t fucking care, finishing rising to his feet and rolling his shoulders.

He watched Dan and Ethan both prepare themselves, before Dan was running at Ghost, who punched him as soon as he got close and shoved him to the side, catching Ethan mid air as he launched at Ghost and using the momentum to send him into the shelf he’d just shoved Ghost into.

Dan was up almost immediately, and he grabbed a bottle of something, a glass bottle, and hit it over Ghost’s head, which disoriented him. But only for a moment, as he immediately punched Dan again.

He grabbed Dan’s arm and was halfway to snapping his elbow when Ethan launched at him, again. Christ, he only had one move, but it was effective that time as Ghost toppled over, Ethan on top of him.

Impact after impact hit Ghost’s face, only making him angry and he felt beside him, throwing up his arm to block the punches before his hand was wrapping around a broken piece of glass and he slashed up, cutting across Ethan’s face.

Ethan flinched and Ghost used that to his advantage, shoving him off and standing before cursing as something sharp stabbed into his side, jerking back and feeling his side where a knife now stuck out of it.

He looked at the knife and then made eye contact with Dan, who was watching him with his eyes wide, as he yanked the knife out of his side. Ghost couldn’t help laughing, since they looked so terrified. Good.

Maybe Alex had a point about him being a bit edgy. Regardless, Ghost flipped the knife so he was holding it correctly and stepped forward, slashing across Dan’s face and giving him a matching cut to Ethan’s.

He then kicked Dan in the stomach, sending him flying back, and he elbowed Ethan before Ethan could even really do anything, before grabbing his shoulder and shoving him so he landed on top of Dan.

He went over to Ethan, kicking him off of Dan, and grabbed Dan’s collar, using the hand who held the knife to pull his face mask down and spit out blood to the side. “I won’t fault you two idiots for picking the wrong fucking shop to sack, but if I ever see your faces again, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Dan’s eye was already swollen and he just quickly nodded, so Ghost dropped him. “Get the fuck out of my shop.” Ghost growled and they both were immediately up and practically sprinting out of the store, tripping over themselves in their attempt to get out.

Finally, the pain slammed into Ghost and he cursed loudly, looking down at where blood was now staining his black hoodie. Bastards. He shook his head and then cursed again as his phone rang, shaking his head.

Jason showed on the caller ID and Ghost rolled his eyes, knowing he needed to answer or Jason would refuse to give him what he needed. So, he did. “Jason.”

“ Bloody hell, you sound even more irritated than normal.”

“What do you want?” Ghost spit out more blood and put the phone between his cheek and shoulder, going to the shelf and lifting it so it was back upright, glad to see none of the shelves looked bent.

Jason chuckled, softly, which just irritated Ghost more. “ Am I still coming by, after your shift, to give you that shit?”

“It’d be nice.” Ghost grunted, putting all of the snacks back on the shelf, though he didn’t do it very neatly. Fuck that. He noticed that most of the money was still on the counter, so he shrugged and went to it, putting it all back in the till.

“ See you then. ”

“Wait. Grab a first aid kit.”

“... Why?”

Ghost resisted growling in pain, having had to walk through Jason cauterizing the stab wound, since it was in too odd of an angle for Ghost to do it himself. “Christ, Simon. How did you manage this?”

“Two idiots sacked the shop.” Ghost muttered, gritting his teeth as Jason cleaned the fresh burn before finally bandaging it. “I defended it.”

“You could have just rang the police.” Jason rolled his eyes.

Ghost shrugged and rolled his shirt back down, only having raised enough of it for Jason to bandage him. “Did you bring my shit?”

“Your shit?? You haven’t even paid me, yet. You’re lucky I’m bringing it at all, since it’ll practically take a fortnight for you to pay me for it.”

“You still bring it.” Ghost reminded, taking a paper bag as it was handed to him. Self medicating, another cope with the perpetual boredness.

“You’re welcome.” Jason grumbled before hopping up and sitting on the wooden pallets beside Ghost, getting out a cigarette and lighting it. Ghost took it before he could start to smoke it and Jason just sighed and lit another. “You’re a prick.”

Ghost grunted in response, lifting his mask to take a long drag from the cigarette and watching some stray cats run across the street. “There was a kid there. Before they started to rob the store. He looked scared shitless.”

“Yeah, no wonder.” Jason agreed and then sighed. “Well, did you get all of the aggression out of your system?”

“Sure.” Ghost lied. No, no he hadn’t. He probably never would. Knocking punching bags down from the ceiling didn’t help, and neither had this. “Feel better.” That wasn’t a complete lie, he did feel… almost lighter.

“I saw that sergeant the other day. The one you guys call Soap? Asked me about you.”

“What did you say?” Ghost asked, though he honestly doubted Jason had said anything. Jason hardly knew anything.

Jason went quiet before sighing. “Just told him the truth. You hardly talk to me, either. All he really did was ask how you are, anyway. Mentioned worrying you’d do something drastic to yourself.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I will.” Ghost shrugged, again. “Maybe I’ll jump off a bridge or-”

“Don’t joke like that.” Jason sighed, sounding exhausted. “Simon, you’d do it. We all know you would.”

Ghost went silent and continued to watch the cats. “Maybe.” He finally said before taking another drag from the cigarette and shaking his hand out as it started to hurt, again. “You can tell him where I work if he comes to you, again.”

Jason simply nodded, Ghost could see it out of the corner of his eye, and Ghost finished off his cigarette before stomping it out and discarding the butt of it. “Thanks for my shit. I’ll get you the money later.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jason just snorted before getting up as well. However, before he even really got a distance away, he glanced back before turning around. “That kid. Did you make them let him go?”

Ghost sighed but nodded. “I did.” He knew what Jason’s next question would be.

“Why?”

Hesitantly, Ghost looked at Jason before sighing again and shaking his head. “He reminded me of Tommy.”

Jason’s eyes immediately moved away from Ghost and he turned back around. “Try to get some sleep, Ghost.” He mumbled before finally heading off.

Ghost furrowed his brows for a few small moments before shaking it off and heading back to his flat, which was… empty. It was an open floor plan and Alex and Alejandro had both came and helped him move in.

Entirely independent of each other, too, apparently.

Rodolfo had been there, though he’d mostly just sat with Ghost while Alex and Alejandro did most of the work and then he’d used Ghost’s kitchen to cook a decently sized dinner. If they hadn’t done that, Ghost was fairly positive he’d have killed himself.

Ghost shook his head and pulled off his clothing before falling into bed. He kept the curtains closed and no one ever came by, so he was comfortable enough to show his body. “Show” being used lightly, since again. No one was seeing it.

He’d let Soap see it… once…

For weeks afterward, Ghost had considered that shower to be one of the better moments of his life. It had been after they’d gotten trapped in Las Almas and Rodolfo had told them to shower and clean up before heading out.

There’d been a lot of feelings that Ghost was maybe not ready to confront, and maybe he still wasn’t ready. No, he definitely wasn’t ready now. But, Ghost had hardly even thought about it when Soap had asked him to join.

That was a lie, he’d thought very hard about it. His hands had shaken the entire time as Soap had helped him discard his clothing, but Soap hadn’t said a word. Just smiled as he washed Simon’s hair. Not Ghost’s, Simon’s hair.

Asked if he bleached it, which Simon had nodded and said he did. I’m naturally a ginger. But, hard to keep it well taken care of under the mask. So, I bleach it. Considered shaving it all off a few times.

Don’t you dare, LT.

No. Don’t call me that right now. Just… Just use Simon. That’s who I am.

Alright… Simon.

Ghost rolled onto his back and shook his head. Even now, he didn’t feel like Simon. Simon had been a weak tether… He knew people probably considered Simon the weak scared little Sergeant that Ghost kept locked away, but Simon wasn’t afraid to show his face.

Simon didn’t need the military, Ghost did.

Simon had slept around and laughed at dumbass jokes from pretty Sergeants with a bit too much confidence. Simon purred when fingers ran through hair as Soap dripped down his skin. Simon loved and could be loved.

Ghost wasn’t that. Ghost was broken and harsh and liked beating the shit out of people who annoyed him. Ghost growled at everything and tore skin.

Simon would have forgiven Johnny. Simon would have smiled and touched his face as he forgave him. Said he knew Johnny meant no harm by it.

Ghost couldn’t forgive. He’d lost that ability. He’d lost it when he was angry, digging himself out of a grave he had no right to be in. When all he had wanted to do was burn the world to the ground and settled on systematically ending every single person who had ever participated in his torture, who had ever hurt him.

All Ghost knew how to do, anymore, was be angry.

“I am begging you to go fuck yourself.” Ghost cursed into the phone, trying very hard to multitask while he bought a meager amount of groceries for the week. Alex was, again, doing his best to convince Ghost to… live. Or something.

“ Ghost, don’t be like that. When was the last time you… went to the gym or something?”

Actually, Ghost went fairly frequently. It was the only thing that kept the overwhelming anger at bay, sometimes. “Yesterday.”

“ Of course you go to the gym but do nothing else. ”

“I feel like this was a trap question.” Ghost huffed, tossing his items onto the belt. He just pointed at the paper bags before the cashier could ask and turned around, touching his forehead. “I am living. I’m still here.”

“ No. You’re surviving, that’s different. Farah has said she can get a helo to pick you up and you can come here for a few days.”

Actually… that didn’t sound too awful. Ghost considered it.

“ She has ulterior motives, of course. You could help her get rid of a few thorns…”

It was so incredibly tempting, but Ghost knew Alex. He gave an inch and Alex would immediately take a mile, because he knew he could get away with it and Ghost would barely fight him. “I don’t think Price will be happy with that.”

“ Fuck the old man, I’m worried about you. ”

“I can’t.” Ghost nodded to the cashier when they gestured to the card reader, getting out his card. “I think I’m getting used to civilian life.”

“ Yeah, that’s what worries me. Alright, Ghost, just… fuck, man, just talk to someone.”

Ghost just laughed. He said his goodbyes to Alex before shoving the phone back in his pocket, taking his bags and the receipt, pausing as he realized he recognized the cashier. “Dean?” He asked before he could really stop himself.

The cashier, or Dean, the kid from the shop, looked startled before his eyes went wide. “Oh! It’s you! You made them let me go.”

“Yeah.” Ghost frowned and then shook his head. He hoped the kid wouldn’t try to give him the whole “Thanks for saving my life” spiel. He didn’t honestly need or want it.

“I was, uh… Going to come by the shop, but… Well, since you’re here.” Dean got into his pocket before digging out a black box. “I remembered you had one on.”

Ghost tilted his head, hating how curious he immediately was. Okay, he could accept a gift as thanks. He took the box and opened it, seeing a thin silver bracelet, which kind of matched his other. “Thanks…” He said, kind of dumbly, and put the bracelet on, handing the box back. “It’s uh… nice.”

“My mum wants me to invite you to dinner as thanks-”

Ghost just laughed and took his bags. “Yeah, no thanks kid. Stay out of trouble.” He left before the kid could say anything else, not wanting to listen to any attempts to convince him. He was not interested in going to dinner with anyone as thanks for saving their life.

He shook his head as he left the store, shifting both paper bags to one arm so he could check his phone, pausing on the sidewalk for a moment. When he lifted his eyes, he met bright blue ones, and he backed up as he recognized them.

Of course he would, he’d recognize them anywhere.

Soap stood across the street, looking as startled as Ghost felt. Then, Soap started to cross the street, so Ghost turned and immediately started down the sidewalk, back to his flat, hoping if he entirely ignored Soap, that he might just go away.

“Ghost-” Soap called behind him, but Ghost just kept walking, ducking down an alley when he passed by a crowd, and ducking down behind a trash can, watching Soap rush past the opening of the alley.

Ghost rolled his eyes and shook his head, turning around and going out the other side of the alley, just taking the long way home.

He still wasn’t ready to confront Soap. Maybe he never would be.

Simon, I- It’s for your own good.

Ghost. It’s Ghost. That’s who I am.

I-

Goodbye, Soap.

His phone buzzed. He checked it, again shifting the bags, and saw it was his boss. I need you to work a late shift.

Yeah, sure. When?

Tomorrow night, until 2 in the morning.

Ghost sent a thumbs up. He didn’t really care about the money, but he also didn’t have anything better to do, so he’d just take the shift.

Really, it’d just be cutting into his “get high and mope” time.

God, the great and legendary Ghost, who the mere thought of had had people shaking, had had them terrified. Recruits watched him with awe. Hell, people would whisper his name even when they were countries apart because they were terrified of invoking his wrath.

And every night between 11 and 3, he would get absurdly fucking high and desperately fight to be able to produce just one fucking tear.

How the mighty fall.

Ghost shook it off and finally made it to his apartment, going up to his door, and then immediately turning around as he heard footsteps approach, growling in frustration as he saw Soap. “Fuck, you’re stubborn.”

“You used to like that about me.” Soap answered before putting his hands up. “I just want to talk, Ghost.”

“I don’t.” Ghost muttered, unlocking his door and going inside. “I don’t ever want to.”

“Ghost, please…” Soap pleaded, putting his hand on the door before Ghost could shut it. Ghost had enough strength he could just slam it, anyway, but… he didn’t and just looked away from Soap. “Ghost…”

“Fine.” Ghost rolled his eyes and backed away from the door, gesturing for Soap to come in. He shut the door behind him and Ghost went to go put his groceries away. “What do you want?”

“To talk, like I said.”

“Fine. What about?”

“I… I’m sorry-”

“No.” Ghost shook his head. “I do not want to hear your apologies, I do not forgive you. So…” He waved his hand a little. “Pick something else.” He looked up, seeing Soap looked almost startled.

Soap almost looked unsure what else to do and his eyes moved to look around the apartment. “It’s… nice.”

“Yeah, sure.” Ghost shook his head, again, and wondered if people could hear his brain rattle when he did that. “Alex and Alejandro helped me set it up.”

“I like it.” Soap moved and sat at a small kitchen table that Ghost had. Reluctantly, Ghost moved and sat across from him, watching Soap think. He was very expressive when he thought, his eyes would shift around, his jaw would clench and unclench, his hands would flex. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” Ghost asked, leaning back in his chair. “You wouldn’t have to if you didn’t… you know, sign off that you thought I needed to be discharged.”

Soap flinched and Ghost almost felt bad. Almost. “Ghost… I’m sorry. ”

“If it happened again, would you do it again?”

Soap didn’t answer before he was nodding. “I would.”

“Then you’re not sorry. Sorry is a synonym for remorseful.” Ghost got up and went to a bookshelf he had, getting out a dictionary. “Remorse, defined as deep regret or guilt for a wrong committed. You don’t think you were wrong and I doubt you regret it.” He moved and dropped the book on the table, watching Soap jump again. “So, you’re not sorry.”

Soap watched him, his eyes wide, and Ghost went to his bed, dropping onto it and covering his eyes with his arm. “I’m done entertaining guests. Goodbye, Soap.”

“Ghost-”

“ Goodbye , Soap.” Ghost reiterated. He peeked out from under his arm when he heard Soap move, and Soap seemed to hesitate before getting up.

Soap, however, then picked up the dictionary, flipping through the pages. “Sorry. Define, feeling distress, especially through sympathy with someone else's misfortune. So, I am sorry.” Soap sighed and then put the dictionary down.

“Goodbye, Soap.”

Soap looked at Ghost before his shoulders dropped and he nodded. “Alright. Goodbye, Ghost.” Then, Soap left, and Ghost rolled onto his stomach, glaring at a wall.

Fuck Soap.

He didn’t get much time to wallow, though. God, it was like everyone had some sort of bullshit sensor that sensed when Ghost wanted to be fucking left alone. Jason.

Groaning, he grabbed his phone and put it to his ear. “What?”

“ Don’t snap at me. I’ll stop giving you that shit. Anyway, one of those guys that robbed you… did they have a dragon tattoo?”

Ghost had to think about it before frowning. “Yeah… one of those punks, Ethan, did. It was coiled in a spiral.”

“ Fuck! Look, they’re part of a real gang… And they’re angry. They want to kill you.”

“Let them try.” Ghost put his phone between his cheek and ear, sitting up and grabbing his laptop. “What are they even going to do? I’ve wiped out worse than gangs.”

“ Yeah, when you had John Price and the fucking British military behind your ass. You just barely even have yourself! What are you going to do if 30-40 gang members come after you?”

Ghost chuckled. Jason didn’t really know about Roba or his cartel. He didn’t know what Ghost had done. “I can handle it.”

“ Simon. Please.”

“I’m not going to get killed, Jason. I’ll be fine.” Ghost sighed and picked up his phone again, putting it on speaker. “What’s the gang’s name?”

“ Why would I tell you?! You’re just going to do something stupid!! Simon, please just lay low.”

“I’m not going to do that.” Ghost shook his head, laying back in the bed. “If they want to kill me, they can take their best shot.”

“ I’ll call Price. ”

“You don’t have his number.”

“ Simon, please.”

Ghost sighed and closed his eyes. “Fine. I won’t… seek them out. But I’m not laying low. I’ll just continue life as normal and then… if they come for me, I’ll defend myself. Anyway, I have to go to bed, so…” He pulled away his phone to hang up.

“ Simon, Simon!”

Ghost hung up, anyway, and sighed softly. He searched the internet for the spiraled dragon tattoo, but after about twenty minutes of searching, he’d found only a tattoo shop that had a neck tattoo with the same coiled dragon.

Open all night. Perfect.

So, he got back up, grabbed his keys again as well as his phone and wallet and headed down the stairs. The tattoo shop was one he sort of knew. Rather, he knew of, as a couple of Jason’s mates had gotten tattoos there. But, he’d never personally been.

When he got there, he rolled his shoulders before going in, trying to look as big and imposing as possible. He went up to the counter, where a man sat, looking bored. He could hear the buzzing of tattoo needles as he walked, the murmuring of artists making chit chat with their clients.

It was surprisingly busy, considering it was close to 1:30 AM. However, he ignored that, tapping on the counter when he got up there, watching the man look at him. Ghost looked on the wall and got down the coiled dragon tattoo.

“Sorry, mate, we don’t do repeat tattoos. You thinking of something similar?” He asked, and his shirt said Michael. So, that’s what Ghost decided to call him.

“No, Michael, I am not.” Ghost laid the photo out on the counter, tapping it. “I want to know who got that tattoo and what gang they belong to.”

Michael looked at him and then he chuckled, whistling. Ghost raised an eyebrow and looked around, seeing that most of the artists had stopped tattooing, now looking at him. His eyes did pick up a few weapons here and there.

So, he sighed, straightened, and rolled his shoulders. “I’m not afraid of a fight.” He informed Michael, who laughed. “I just want to know.”

Michael shook his head. “Are you afraid of death? Maybe you ought to turn back around and leave. Nice and easy like, yes?”

Ghost narrowed his eyes and he slammed his hands on the glass counter, leaning in real close to Michael. “My name is Simon Riley. No, I’m not afraid of death, however you very much should be because if you don’t give me the information I want, that pen,” he gestured to a pen very close to his hand, “is going to lodge directly into your trachea.”

Michael squinted and looked about ready to fire off before one of the older artists came over, his face pale. “Did you say… Simon Riley?”

Ghost straightened and frowned, turning to the old man. “I did.” He nodded, glancing over the others and seeing a few other confused faces.

The old man immediately shoved his weapon, a pole, into Ghost’s hands and backed up, putting his hands up. “I… I… I want no hand in fighting phantoms.” He turned and rushed to what looked like the back and Ghost raised an eyebrow as he heard a couple locks click.

He turned back to Michael, who now looked very apprehensive and concerned. “Let me try this again-”

He barely had to finish the threat as Michael was immediately spilling everything, complete with pictures and a home address. Ghost laughed victoriously as he exited the tattoo shop, shaking his head. No hand in fighting phantoms. He liked that one.

Ethan Kurt… Ethan had shoved his hand into fighting the wrong phantom.

No, that line sucked.

Tap.

Ghost was so fucking bored. With the threat of being attacked being supposed to be hanging over his head, this was dull. He was starting to think Jason was entirely full of shit, but… he decided he would remain vigilant regardless.

Oh well.

Tap.

Was it really still only 11:00PM? Granted, he only had three hours left but… fuck. Maybe after this, he would call Alex. He knew it would shock the hell out of him, maybe that’d be hilarious. Listen to him stammer and try not to say anything about it.

No, because then he’d feel bad and feel like a bad friend and that was bullshit. Ghost didn’t want to be pathetic, wondering if he was a “bad friend.” He was a horrible friend, probably one of the worst, he knew that. He was a grown, almost 30 year old man. Of course he knew that.

Of course.

Tap.

Lights.

Ghost perked up, seeing what looked like flashlights shining around outside. He ducked down just a little, going to the side window and peeking out, seeing a group of people start to go around to the outside of the building. He could make out 4 which…

If this was the gang supposedly attacking him, he would barely have to do anything. Knock some heads together, break some limbs, done. That was… almost disappointing.

He returned back to the counter and decided to play nonchalant, sitting on a stool and getting out his phone to play on it. Actually, he’d found some pretty interesting phone games. Card games, those match three games. Some military games which he liked to critique and laugh at.

They were good to pass the time with and usually didn’t require much thinking, so he kept them around. Currently, he was playing a word game with Rodolfo. Both actually had a fairly high vocabulary in American English, all points considering, so it could get fun. Rodolfo had actually switched the game’s language to Spanish a few times to help Ghost practice.

However, he didn’t go easy on him or help, either, so Ghost lost at an… honestly embarrassing ratio. Alejandro had just told him to take it in stride, that Rodolfo doesn’t really think of those things. Which… Ghost knew that. He knew Rodolfo was similar to him. Sure, he could blame most of it on the trauma but… some of it was genetic. He knew that. Rodolfo was the same.

Besides, it had helped a little. Just a little.

Actually, he missed Alejandro and Rodolfo. He’d never say it to their faces, but it’d been a while since he saw them. It was nearing Christmas, so he knew they’d be taking their forced leave. He also knew if he even hinted at the idea, Alejandro would have a helo down the next day. So, maybe he could go for a couple days. He’d love Rodolfo’s cooking again, and going to bars with Alejandro sounded really nice.

God, fuck, Alex was rubbing off on him or something. What was this… hope?? Disgusting.

Ghost immediately shook it off, just playing a random word against Rudy, laughing softly when he saw two little ?? back because Ghost usually played big words that had Rodolfo cussing him out. Then, he stuck his phone back in his pocket, hearing the bell of the door chime.

He stood, going back to the register, before raising an eyebrow as he didn’t see anyone there. Hmm, he knew the obvious answer would be that they’d changed their mind and left, but… Ghost didn’t trust like that.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he realized that he was being taunted. Lured. They wanted him to go outside. Carefully, he felt under the counter where he’d stuck a shotgun, as well as several shells, and then he leaned against the counter, waiting. He wasn’t prey, and he wanted them to know that.

Ghost checked the time, seeing it was now midnight, and he took a breath, reluctantly leaving the counter to check everything he’d set up. The back door had a nailbomb set just right for when it was opened, the side door had a packet of noisemakers so he’d hear if it opened.

And, the front door had a bell. Everything else was in a duffel bag behind the counter. He would… admit that he may have had small kleptomanic tendencies and had maybe stolen a few things when he was being discharged.

Obviously things like semtex and frags would not be good to use in the store, but hey, flashes and stuns were free game. No, he didn’t care if he ended up blinding a few punks, he had plans to do more than blind them.

And then all of his copious amounts of knives. So many knives.

Tap.

More lights. It seemed they had noticed he wasn’t biting the bait, as several of the lights had started to surround the small building. And finally, someone came in. Dan. He recognized him fairly easily, even though his hood was down now.

“Hello, old man.” Dan said, in a tone clearly meant to be taunting. He had a gun, something a bit heavier than the .22 they’d had before.

“I’m 30.” Ghost sighed, shaking his head. “I turned 30 last month.”

Dan paused, clearly started. “You’re only thirty?” He blinked before immediately shaking it off. “Whatever. You know why I’m here.”

“Maybe.” Ghost acknowledged, moving to sit on the stool again. “I’m confused why you decided you needed to bring… 30? 30 other prats with you.”

Dan glared at him, before shaking his head. “Nobody fucks with me and gets away with it.”

“I’m confused, mate, you tried to rob me.” Ghost laughed, crossing his arms. “You came into my work and had your mate put a gun to my head. Then you tried to rob me.”

“You could have just given us the money and we would have left!” Dan snapped. Ghost could see a bandage on his cheek, which appeared to be in need of changing. “So, now, we’re going to bloody kill you.”

“Sure.” Ghost laughed, nodding. “Go ahead. Take your best shot.” He hummed, standing and leaning against the counter. “Maybe you want to go and reconvene with your buddies. If you leave, I won’t do anything. I won’t seek you. I won’t hunt you down. But… if you stay, well… you’ve been warned.”

Dan’s glare only deepened. “You’re quite cocky.”

“I think I’ve earned it.” Ghost said. “Like I said. You have one chance.”

Dan appeared about to answer, likely to make some stupid quip, but then Ghost heard a small explosion from the back and some screaming, and he chuckled. “Too late.”

Dan stared behind Ghost into the back, clearly stunned, and Ghost ducked down, grabbing the shotgun and shooting at Dan. Dan was quick to duck out of the way, barely managing to be missed by any spray.

Then, Ghost was having to duck down to avoid gun spray, rummaging in the bag for a smoke and tossing it into the back, before grabbing a knife and ducking through the doorway. He followed the sound of coughing, able to make out five distinct individual coughs.

The first was fairly close to the doorway that led to the front of the store, so he swept their legs and slit their throat, not wasting time to look at their face or even really wait for them to die. He just shoved them directly in the path of another, who stumbled backwards over them.

They hit the ground rather hard and Ghost pounced on the opportunity, stabbing them through the eye and directly into their brain. He backed up as he noticed two figures come towards him, watching them stumble through the smoke.

One tripped on his friend’s body and they landed right on top of the pair, and Ghost could just make out their eyes widening, before he threw the knife through their temple. The second spotted him right as he did that, and he rolled to the side to avoid being shot, throwing the smoke canister at them.

It hit them square in the stomach and they doubled over, coughing, so Ghost lunged forward and yanked the gun out of their hands. He stuck it right into their chest and shot through, sending them backwards.

Footsteps.

He whipped around and shot who had just tried to sneak up on him through the head, right as the smoke started to clear. Rushing, he slid to shut the door before sprinting back out to the front, narrowly ducking in time to avoid being hit in the head by the butt of a gun.

He slammed the butt of his own gun into the person who tried to attack him, recognizing Ethan who hit the ground with a snarl. “Fuck.” Ghost growled. “It’s clear you don’t want to be doing this, why are you?”

Ethan paused, clearly surprised, and then he glared. “Dan’s like my brother. Wherever he goes, I go.”

“Say hello to him in hell, then, I guess.” Ghost muttered, and went to shoot him, before crying out in surprise as something tore through his side. He looked down at his side, seeing a gun shot wound.

Being smart, though, he still shot Ethan through the head, cursing, and ignoring yelling behind him. He ducked back through the doorway of the back, checking how many bullets were left in the magazine of his gun. Enough, but he didn’t really want to use it, anyway.

So, he tossed it to the side and yanked the knife out of that temple he’d thrown it through, patting the dead body and having to resist the knee jerk reaction to thank it. Instead, he crouched low and stayed close to the wall and the doorway, listening and hearing several footsteps near.

He could see his duffel bag just a small distance away and now he had to consider if it was worth diving for it to retrieve another smoke grenade, before ducking again as more gun spray came. He winced as he saw if he’d stayed where he was, several bullets would have landed directly in his body.

Bollocks.

He shook his head and stayed as low as possible, ducking through the doorway and sliding to his bag, very glad to see a flash was sitting at the top. Turning, he depinned and tossed it right in the middle of a group coming towards him, before covering his eyes.

When he opened them, he saw they were stumbling over themselves, which almost had him laughing softly, but he resisted and took a very small moment to check the wound on his side, cursing as he saw it was an all the way through gunshot.

However, the placement of it made him think that whoever shot him really didn’t know what they were doing.

He grabbed the shotgun, and turned, blasting the small group of four he’d flashed, before panting and peeking over the counter to see how many were in the store, glad to see that so far there was none.

Carefully inching to the group of four, he growled as he saw none of them were Dan. “Where’s Dan?” He asked one, which was wheezing and holding a hole in his stomach. He seemed to be hit with the majority of the blast.

“Fuck you.” They coughed, blood coming up with it. “They’re gonna fucking kill you.”

“I’ve gotten ten of you.” Ghost rolled his eyes, ignoring a pulse of pain from his side. He killed them with his knife, swiftly, and went to the next one, which was holding his leg. “Where’s Dan?”

“I’m not telling you-” He killed them, too. Fuck them.

Of course, the other two had to be just as stubborn, and they went just as fast. It seemed his enemies were reconvening, so he took the opportunity to as well, very shittily bandaging up his side. Another scar to add to the pile.

God, he was having so much fun. He felt like he was back on a mission, again, clearing out some enemy encampment. Adrenaline coursed through every vein in his body and he loved the feeling of it. He missed this so fucking much.

Carefully, he peeked over the counter again, frowning as he saw nothing. No lights, no people. Nothing… Well, he still saw the dead bodies, so he knew this wasn’t a case of him losing his mind. He narrowed his eyes and slowly stood, ready to duck down at the slightest hint of gun fire, but… he saw nothing.

Even still, he grabbed a smoke grenade out of the duffel bag, only having another flash and two stuns. He uh… hadn’t been able to grab much.

He also put new shells into the shotgun, keeping both close as he carefully inched out from behind the counter, peeking around the shelves and seeing that there was no one. Nothing. Considering, he ducked into the back, checking the security cameras.

Technically, he wasn’t supposed to have the code, but he could fucking care less. He watched the footage and saw… they were all gone. No one was around the building.

Had they gotten freaked out and left?? No… He seriously doubted that.

But if they hadn’t left, what the fuck was this? Did they plan to come back at a later day and try to surprise him? Maybe. That made the most sense. Whatever, he’d be ready. He did have to figure out how he’d explain the bullet holes and dead bodies but… eh, he doubted Price would let him take the fall for it.

Plus, he’d disappeared once, he could do it again.

So, he went out to the front, planning to drag each body to the back and stack them in a pile. A neat little pile. Then, he’d finish out his shift by mopping up all of the blood and go the fuck home.

Sleep sounded very nice, he wouldn’t lie. For once, it sounded fantastic.

So, once he’d made his little pile, he went back out to the front and grabbed the mop, starting to clean up the blood. Maybe if Price did take care of this, he’d go ahead and talk to Soap. This adrenaline had him feeling all warm and fuzzy inside. Warm and fuzzy enough to consider trying to talk to Soap.

He didn’t hear the car in time.

Crash.

The impact sent him flying across the shop and he hit a shelf hard, the air knocked completely out of his lungs. He fell to the ground, coughing and rolling onto his back. Fuck, something was broken.

He had no hope of dragging himself to his feet, he was far too stunned, and he coughed again, closing his eyes, before opening them to someone crouching down and getting in his face. Dan sneered at him, “I outsmarted you.”

Ghost laughed, tasting blood, and he managed to reach up to yank down his mask and spit the blood on Dan’s face, seeing him splutter and jerk back. He then snarled and raised a fist to punch Ghost.

Ghost closed his eyes, preparing for the impact, but it never came. Instead, he felt weight land on his body, and when he opened his eyes, Dan was slumped over, a gaping hope splurting blood from his head.

Making a face, he shoved Dan off to the best of his ability, before someone was grabbing his hand and yanking him to his feet. “Dude. You just had to bring shit to yourself.”

Ghost immediately jerked to look at the person, recognizing Alex’s voice and his face immediately. “Alex?? Bloody hell, what the fuck are you doing here?” He didn’t think about it, limping forward and hugging his friend.

Alex was clearly shocked, but he hugged back and chuckled. “Your friend, Jason, called me. Apparently, he got one of my phone numbers from your phone. I think he thought he would be calling Price, but I came out all the same.”

Ghost would have been mad at Jason, but he was honestly glad to see Alex. “I had it on my own,” he joked, before wincing at a lot of pain in his sides. “Sort of.” He mumbled.

“Oh yeah, I can see that.” Alex snorted before nudging his head in the direction of the vehicle. Ghost looked over, recognizing Farah as she cleared out several more of the gang members, a young woman with her.

“I thought she didn’t leave Urzikstan.” Ghost frowned, raising an eyebrow as she and the young woman finally came over.

“I do not attack on the offense.” Farah stated, smiling as she came over. “But, I’m always willing to help out a friend if they need it.” She held out her hand and Ghost gladly shook it, before shaking his head. “Alex was going to come alone. This is Malika, my love.”

Malika smiled and also shook Ghost’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Alex and Farah have said a lot.”

Ghost took a breath before shaking his head. “I thought I had it.” He admitted, grunting. “I didn’t expect to be hit by a car.” The pain was almost overwhelming but… he’d again had worse. However, he did allow himself to pant a little. “Thank you.”

“Dude. What’s up with you? You’re never this sappy.” Alex joked and punched Ghost’s shoulder, before wincing as blue and red lights appeared, as well as sirens. “Fuck.”

“Get out of here.” Ghost said, gesturing to the back. “Alex, you’re still a traitor to the United States and I don’t think Farah will be treated too kindly.”

Alex appeared to hesitate before nodding. “I’ll find you tomorrow and we can talk, alright?”

“Alright.” Ghost nodded. He went to the cigarette case and got a box and a lighter, nodding a bye as all three left, almost as fast as they came, and he chuckled softly, going back to Dan’s dead body. “You still lost. Cheers, you slag.” He muttered, before standing and waiting to be arrested.

He didn’t fight his arrest, he didn’t fight being put into cuffs. When he was stuck at a table, he didn’t say anything, just wrestled a cigarette out of the box and pushed his mask up with both hands before fighting to light a cigarette one handed.

“You killed twenty people.” The officer stated. “Twenty gang members. They were heavily armed.”

“You know, that’s a good point. How did they even have weapons? Aren’t you guys supposed to be stopping that?” Ghost leaned back in his seat, blowing out the smoke he’d taken in.

The officer rolled her eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

Ghost took another long drag from the cigarette before slowly letting it out, seeing her phone ring. As she got it out, he chuckled. “I’m a ghost.”

She gave him a look before answering the phone. Within seconds, her face had paled, and he was let go hardly minutes later, with a half mumble to stay out of trouble.

He walked home with a grin on his face.

Alex had just left. While he was there, he and Ghost had discussed him going to Urzikstan, and Ghost had reluctantly promised to consider it. Already, he was thinking of just saying yes, disappearing to Urzikstan and running missions for Farah.

For now, though, he was sipping tea and eating lunch. Outside, too, at a little restaurant he knew and liked. He even hummed a bit as he ate, watching some birds fight over a piece of bread. What a fitting metaphor.

Soap came and sat in the chair across from him, at first silent. Ghost turned to look at him, sighing. “The charm of your tenacity has worn off, Johnny.”

“I think what I did for you will bring it back.” Soap chuckled. “After your… encounter, I talked to Price. I told him that I was wrong. I was stupid. I talked to Alex and Alejandro and both of them… agreed that you’ve been worse as a civilian. I even tracked down your friend, Jason. He uh… tore me a new one.”

“Oh?” Ghost had to admit, he was a bit shocked by that. “Over?”

“Agreeing with Price that you needed to be discharged.” Soap mumbled and then sighed. “So, I told Price that.. You’re just going to keep getting in trouble if you’re out here. He’s agreed to let you back into the SAS. He’s already pulling strings.”

Ghost blinked at Soap, quite surprised. “You’re bloody joking.”

“I wouldn’t joke about that, Ghost.” Soap winced. “He thinks you’re less of a problem in the SAS. In… the 141. He can keep an eye on you and you can’t end up antagonizing another gang.”

Ghost barely resisted exclaiming that they had tried to rob him, just sighing instead. “I don’t know. What if I have another episode again?” He snarked, feeling slightly bad when Soap winced.

“He’s prepared to deal with it.” Soap mumbled.

Ghost considered before shrugging. “I’ll think about it. I have a lot of offers, need to consider my options.”

Soap looked startled before laughing softly. “Alright. Consider it.”

Ghost hesitated before sighing. “Come back to my place… Johnny?”

Soap again looked startled and this time, he took a moment before relaxing.

“Of course, Simon.”

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

@thegodofsleep @the-pluto-828 @sinclairbrosbathmat @wittymanatee @vergilnelosparda @roachboy @del79jji @thisisthedarknessofmymind @thatnerdnamedtj

#simon ghost riley #lieutenant simon riley #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #cod mw ghost #cod ghost #call of duty modern warfare ii #soapghost mention #alex keller #john soap mactavish #canon universe #oneshot

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alexxncl · 1 year

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obey me hcs (mainly the brothers)

masterlist | more drabbles/hcs | pt 2

keep in mind my mc is black lol

slight nsfw warning ?? it's just asmo shape-shifting

also this is so long i apologize

first and foremost, SIMEON AND DIA AFROLATINO KINGS

the two of them and mams always help mc with wash day

barbatos also does bc he helps dia with his hair and will silk press the FUCK out your hair

mams can do locs and helped the angels in the celestial realm who had them with their retwists and detox

mc convinced him to start a business on the side bc they could tell how much he loved doing their hair

beel loves kids and they love him, he's a jungle gym

levi used to (and still does) go mute when he's overwhelmed, luci and mammon taught themselves sign language in case they need to communicate with him

luci was ridiculously overprotective of the brothers when they fell, but the longer they stayed in the devildom, it was less obvious bc his pride didn't allow him to show those emotions outright

asmo can change his genitalia at will depending on his partner's needs/desires

all the brothers are some sort of neurodivergent, and so is (my) mc

this is kinda canon but all of them are queer and luci is the only cis one out of all the brothers

mc helped them become more comfortable with stimming both in the main tl and in nb bc they do it a lot themself

mams, barbatos, and luci are the best to go to when your anxiety gets bad bc they all have it and know how to handle it best/take your mind off of it

idk if this is canon or not but luci advocated for a hybrid-like rad so levi would be able to take some of his classes virtual when his anxiety gets too bad

mc has touched everyone's tails/wings out of pure curiosity once everyone was comfortable enough around them

mams always carries around crow food and birds are almost always following him around bc of it

luci and dia fucked before the fall.

mc started singing wade in the water whenever luci made them do shit and now mams does it too

mc rarely left their room after the lesson 16 incident and everyone but belphie checked up on them

lucifer forbade him from going anywhere near them but he still tried to at least see if they were ok

lucifer is *almost* physically incapable of apologizing bc of his sin

mams rarely uses his powers to their fullest extent, he did it once not too long after they fell and vowed to never do it again out of fear of hurting the people he cared about

satan's powers are equally fueled by wrath and grief

satan was with lucifer from his creation, god didn't wanna make both of them bc he knew satan would be the catalyst for a war

asmo and solomon almost dated but asmo pushed himself away bc he's scared of committment

levi had to physically hold mammon back from *seriously* hurting belphie after the lesson 16 incident

solomon is lilith's son

solomon is actually a decent cook when he doesnt try to experiment...but he always tries to experiment

magic can't even fix whatever he makes when he cooks

simeon can't see for shit but never wears his glasses

beel had and still has a lot of body image issues, his gluttony worsened them and he works out nonstop to cope

belphie listens to white noise on the rare occasion of him not being able to sleep

simeon would've fallen with luci if he found out what was happening and had more time to think, part of the reason why he was so ok with being demoted

dia wanted to be the closest to belphie when they first fell bc of their shared interest in humans and was hurt when belphie was standoffish

luke will be one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful, angels in history

i feel like he was a human and he died when he was really young and became an angel after

mephisto is a kpop stan and ults stayc

he compensates for his low self esteem and jealousy of luci and dia's friendship with the newspaper position

he also has a crush on both of them but wont admit it to himself

raph scolded the brothers so much bc they were his favorites, he didn't want them getting caught by god

felt guilty for letting the brothers fall alone, but not nearly as guilty as simeon

thirteen is a lesbian and i love her and we're married <333333

she hates solomon bc he was one of her assignments and she failed bc he's immortal

familial issues bc of the failure, she's the baby of the family but was still outcast

mc taught mams how to play spades and he's terrible at it

i'm so sorry 😭

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lastoneout · 23 days

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It really is wild to tell a doctor to their face that I have tried to "push myself" to regain my mobility and it put me on bedrest for like three fucking months only for them to be like "well have you tried pushing yourself to regain your mobility??" like bro going on a 15 minute slow-ass walk around my neighborhood once a day for a month took away what was left of my mobility for THREE months and my knee STILL hurts more now than it did before. Pushing myself lead to me permanently making my pain worse, not better.

I also wasn't kidding about the cooking thing, I broke down about not being able to cook because I love cooking so much and eating take out and boxed/frozen food all the time SUCKS so my fiancé helped me make just spaghetti one night, just sauce, cheese, and noodles, it took 45 minutes, I was wearing my knee brace, and I sat down as much as possible, and I was in so much pain by the end that I could barely stand. How do I "push myself" in this situation?? I can't even make a basic dinner for myself and my fiancé without having to give up doing anything else including showering and giving my cat her meds and shit like that for the entire rest of the day. How do I push from here??

Like I just genuinely don't know how you can hear all that and then say to my face that continually injuring myself in this way is going to yield positive results. Every time I have pushed I have limited my mobility further. My PT even TOLD me I shouldn't reach the point of being in actual pain while exercising, if I'm hurting really bad I need to stop so I don't injure myself. How does my PT know that when my fucking rhumatologist doesn't??? How does it not make sense for me even just stay mobile until I hit my limit and then use the wheelchair so hitting my limit doesn't mean "not being able to do anything for the next two days"?????

It's like they think I just started hurting and fucking gave up immediately. I was forced to quit my job THAT I LOVED SO MUCH because even when I hit the point where I could barely walk or sit without pain I didn't want to give it up, I kept pushing myself until my fiancé would have to practically carry my ass to the car at the end of my shifts, and it ended with me so disabled I still can't work. My fiancé legit has to constantly step in to stop me from pushing myself too far because I just want to do the things I want to do and I will hurt myself because of it!! I'm independent to a fault, I hate nothing more than admitting that I can't do something I want to do. Every shred of mobility I have sacrificed has been torn from my very unwilling hands, I haven't given up, I've had it taken from me. I never stopped trying to keep walking, keep working, keep cooking, keep going places, I had to stop because I had no other alternative. It was that or destroy my body. And tbh overall I still chose "destroy my body" more often than I should have.

But they still act like I'm giving up. Like it's me being lazy and stupid that got me here. Like if I was willing to just cope with the pain and not give up it would fix everything even though I already tried that.

I dont hate being disabled, I really don't, even though I've had to give up so much stuff. I grew up with a disabled mother, she's used a wheelchair my entire life and tbh I'm thankful because it seems to have spared me the all too familiar abled worldview that disability is something tragic and shameful and horrifying. It's just life, it's always just been my life, and becoming disabled was pretty easy to accept because I never saw it as a tragic fate to be avoided at all costs. This is the body I have, this is what it can and can't do, my life isn't over it's just different now, I'm allowed to mourn what I used to be able to do while recognizing that I can still live a full life with the right kind of medical care. Most of my frustration comes from people projecting their ableist feelings about disability onto me! It's why "oh but you're so young" comments make me want to deck people.

The only thing I hate about being disabled is other people and all their fucking issues that they keep projecting onto me. The way doctors act like it's better for me to give up everything I do just so I can eventually maybe regain some of my mobility rather than give me the help that would ACTUALLY make that possible. And I cannot stand the way I'm treated like some sort of stupid infant who doesn't have any idea what's best for her because I recognize my own limitations and ask for help. The pain isn't even the worst part, it's the dehumanization and infantilization. The insistence that suffering is better than "giving up" and using a mobility aid. The idea that something happening to someone like me is a tragedy and not just part of life. And the way it constantly makes me feel like I'm the problem when I fucking KNOW I'm not.

Every issue I have faced has been a result of the way other people have treated me. My mobility probably wouldn't even be as bad as it is now if my doctors had Fucking Listened To Me when I first brought up my chronic pain as a teenager, because if they had they would have figured out that I have EDS and will always be damaging my joints and thus need braces NOW to prevent that damage from progressing. I hate thinking about how not being taken seriously by doctors is what got me here in the first place. I'm so fucking tired of my fate being in the hands of people who won't help me and then blame ME for how bad I'm doing and insist I have no idea what I'm talking about and helping me would make things worse actually and have you tried just suffering more.

It's legit inhumane. I just want to be treated like a person, and maybe have some recognition for the way other people constantly make my life hell rather than people acting like I got myself into this situation when I fucking didn't, they did.

I was never the problem.

#personal #negative #vent #actually disabled #cpunk

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helpwerami · 1 year

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Osomatsusan headcanons cause I’m bored

This is more on a take on them in a more psychological/meta pov on them.

Osomatsu

-He’s still irresponsible as the show states repetitively, but I think there’s a deep under layered of anger issues. Maybe feeling like he’s stuck being unemployed and can’t change his life, or feels like his feelings are put on the sidelines.

-oso secretly very stressed but hides it by playing it down. Being the oldest but not the most matured may be a result of him trying to get some control of himself or over small things.

-He acts sexist and pervs on girls on the regular. I like incorporating the old show to the new one, specifically we’re oso was a ballerina,and wore womens swimsuits. So I like to think he secretly wants to be more feminine and dress feminine, but fears the shame or backlash of his family. He Avoids and projects his wants and desires in a more “masculine” manner instead.

-The problem with him at the root of it all is that he doesn’t want to change. He’s comfortable, he’s unfamiliar to change. Therefore he sees change as a threat.

-Oso’s anger makes him go quiet and visibly irritated. Storming off out of the house for a few hours before coming right back.

-He’s an alcoholic,smokes,gambles,unemployed,lives with his parents guy. He doesn’t want to change.

Karamatsu

-The most confident in himself. His fashion is questionable ofc but it shows how willing he his to present himself. Albeit his made up persona of himself.

-Closeted. His brothers have made comments of his clothes looking gay and how he acts is gay as-well, but he can take that. He thinks if he actually comes out he thinks he’s giving more ammo for his brothers to put him down

-Kara is secretly the most matured. He uses his persona as a shield to deflect his brothers judgement. Later in more recent seasons you see him start to not use his persona less and less, and his brothers caught on it even,but when faced with the confrontation he gets aggravated and even intimidates his brothers when he gets mad.

-On a more positive note I would like to think he got his jacket from

-Kara’s more of a job hopper. Never keeping one and doing small gigs like street shows or helping Chibita with his business.

Choromatsu

-he tries to act better or more mature than he really is. Helps his mother with taxes and some small chores but he uses this to put himself on a higher horse in comparison to his brothers.

-wares a collared shirt under his hoodie kind of shit.

-he gets very defensive about very small things. Considered being more short tempered than the sophisticated role he tries to put up.

- he hides his love for anime and idols away from his brothers because he’s ashamed of himself for liking it. Although most already know because he buys copious amounts of merch and tickets for idol shows.

-though he does look after his brothers in a more keeping tabs sort of way than a mom would. Comment or would ask if they’d showered or brush their teeth that day then lecture them to do so. This does help some of them positively to keep somewhat of a schedule.

-I want to say he’d might want to work at a manga/anime shop or something, but I’d doubt it. he’d be too ashamed to work at one. He feels like degenerates or creeps work at manga stores. (Even though that’s verbatim what he is.) would maybe end up in a book/convince store ran by an old lady.

Ichimatsu

-he’s my favorite so take some of this with a grain of salt.

-he hides how he feels. His antisocial behavior and dislike of the general public is why he turned to cats.

-uses cats as a coping mechanism and hyper fixation. Shows some signs of being on the spectrum be he doesn’t want to know the diagnosis/ answer to what specifically he has. He feels like it’s searching for an excuse for the way he is. (Not in a ableist way but more in a learned helplessness way.)

-low hygiene. Either Smells like cat piss or just body odor. His depression not helping him at that, choro runs his mouth at him on the regular for this. But instead of picking up that he’s maybe depressed, he calls him lazy and gross for ‘sulking in his filth’.

- oso and ichi are more closer in a bond because of their similar nature. The only difference between them is that oso is more accepting and chill about his current state. While ichi is more pessimistic and hopeless in his. Giving each other nicknames to show there on good terms.

-gets small jobs at local restaurants. working at the back cleaning dishes and taking out the trash.

-looks after jyushi. Finding solace in his more cheerful enthusiastic nature to his pessimistic one.

Jyushimatsu

-autistic with adhd. dresses more for comfort than to present himself. Highly energetic with not much sense of social cues or sarcasm.

-he’s more of a good influence on the brothers by bringing them outside when he wants to go out, instead of being shut-ins. He helps them have more to do than gamble or drink.

-i like to think he’d have a long distance relationship with him and Homura. Like todo got him a Nokia so he wouldn’t break it and to call her now and then. It would give him some one positive to talk to and she’d have him to talk to.

-he likes to hang out with ichi on the regular. Help ichi get out of the house, and then go feed stray cats in ally’s.

-maybe he’d volunteer at daycare’s or babysit if he needed to work. Showing in some episodes that he’s good with kids.

Todomatsu

-The most put together. Has his job at a cafe in the city and usually has good luck when gambling on pachinko.

-Openly gay with his family. They weren’t too surprised and he wasn’t to scared about it either since he already dressed in more pink and flamboyant clothing,and having friends that are mostly girls.or fuck it he had friends period.

-The most social brother. He tried to bring some of his brothers to mixers but it didn’t end up too well. Either in their brothers getting them kicked out or in other times or his own exclusion.

-I feel like he could move out if he wanted he makes his own income to have a phone and can walk or take a bus to his job. Maybe own an apartment of some kind.

-this might also go hand in hand with the fact he’s scared to be alone. He’s never not been alone for so long that when he finally is, it scares him. It’s unfamiliar to him.

-in the episode were they all got tortured in hell we saw the demon read his dairy. It said he wanted to dress like a girl and be like a girl, then you see him almost cry from the embarrassment.

-I think he’s questioning in his gender,but is to scared to explore that part of himself yet.

I do feel like As much as they hate or irritate each other, a key reason they don’t move out minus the money or occupation, is that their all unconsciously codependent on each other. If they even wanted to move out, the thought/feeling of being alone is so out their comfort zone and unfamiliar they’d rather spend their lives with familiarity.

#osomatsu matsuno #osomatsusan #mr. osomatsu #osomatsu au #osomatsu san #karamatsu #choromatsu matsuno #choromatsu #karamatsu matsuno #ichimatsu matsuno #ichimatsu #jyushimatsu matsuno #jyushimatsu #jyushimura #todomatsu #todomatsu matsuno #osomatsu san headcanons #osomatsu headcanon

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alexdelray1 · 8 months

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Hobie Brown x Reader

-Did you know there is a universe where Mary Jane died because she slept with Peter?- I tried to say it quietly to Hobie.

-What the hell?- Miles said. Most people in the room looked at me like I was a fish with legs except Miguel. He got used to my strange texts.

-Why are you staring at me like celebrity children at paparazzi? Do you know how many documents I see here every day about strange deaths of Spider-men and girls? You don't know how to joke. - I said and sipped my coffee. I sat down at my desk.

I'm Reader Acker. I have no powers and I am not the mastermind behind the operation. I'm Miguel's secretary. And you will think. Why does Miguel need a secretary when he has Layla? All things, documents and morning coffee for Miguel are not just about technology. I had a shitty life without a job, so when I discovered that our dear hero needed a secretary who would keep the secrets of the multiverse and other boring things, I immediately agreed. And you will once again ask how such a great mind as me got into such a position. Others did not see my genius in sarcasm, shit talking and gossip, but for our Migueś it was enough that I would work here for a long time and that I did not want to open up to people.

My desk is so comfortable. Ahhh. If I stay sober for a few more days, maybe I'll get a raise. I will buy a new expansion pack for The Sims 4.

-Reader!- Miles ran to my desk.

-Hello, Miles. What do you want? Love advice or a book called 'How to cope with Uncle Ben's death'? - I asked, smiling.

-I need documents about my earth.- he said, shaking.

-Relax. And what number is it? - I asked, looking for documents in the locker.

-1610. Thank you for your help.- he said. I slowly handed him his documents and took them at the last second.

-Hahaha! I was just making fun of you! Do you seriously think I'll give you these important documents for any reason? Haha! - I laughed and he crossed his arms.

-Please, Reader. I need it! - he begged me.

-And I need Pedro Pascal in my bed. We both can't have what we want. - I said, raising my arms.

-I'll get you a date with Hobie. - Desperate Miles suggested it to me.

-Yeah! Now we're talking seriously! Tell Hobie that there's a horny, sexy chick with big bimbos sitting at my desk who was asking about him. - I said and gave him these documents.

-But that would be a bit untrue.- said Miles, holding the briefcase. I stood up and put my finger to his mouth.

-Shhhhhh. You have a briefcase, so I have a figurine of Hobie's ex-girlfriend. Only better. Now go tell the news! - I almost slapped him on the butt, pushing him to the door.

-It's illegal!- he said, walking to the door.

-And what happened when your mother did that to you? Exactly. You see, I'm not getting any younger. Poor old Reader wants to know what it's like to experience another tsunami of excitement! - I said.

-You're 19 years old, Miles commented.

-So, go grab your pacifier and tell Hobie that I'm waiting for him here. - I looked in the mirror.

-But should I tell him that this sexy girl with bimbos is waiting for him, or are you? Because, you know, they're completely different people. - Miles joked.

-You know what? It's obvious that you have some kind of ADHD if you can't handle such an easy task. Just tell him I'm waiting for him here. - I said, waving my hand.

-But you can call him here yourself.- he said.

-Miles. Tell me. What's the point of me taking the first step into something that doesn't have a bed scene in it? Exactly. And now I say goodbye! - I said and Miles ran out of my office.

Where is Hobie? It's already been 10 minutes and he can come here in 2 seconds. What if he doesn't think I'm interesting enough for him? Or maybe that damn Miles didn't tell him? I will kill and crush! Wait! My watch, I forgot about it.

-Reader! 5 minutes ago there was a call for all Spider-men and women to catch Miles! - said Layla as I turned on the watch and put it on my wrist.

-That's bad…- I commented.

-Miles somehow found the code from the machine and is now in another universe! And you are the only person who knows and has all these codes… - said Layla suspiciously.

-Oh shit.- I said. I took a rope from the ceiling with a 'people holder' (I don't know how to spell it) and attached myself to it.

-Reader what are you doing?- Layla asked.

-Layla I knew it would come one day so this is my little insurance policy against such an event. I'm going on vacation until Miguel calms down and stops thinking that his canon moment is to kill me.- I said. I jumped out the window and started climbing down the building, attached to a rope.

-I'm sorry, Reader. We've got your locatio-- before Layla could finish, I took off my watch and thrown it off.

-I'm sorry, Layla.- I said and started lowering myself on the rope.

Suddenly the rope stopped working.

-What is it?- I looked up. Oh fuck. Pissed off, Miguel started pulling the rope up with me without trying too hard.

-Oh shit.- I said to myself. I looked down. I saw a portal opening several meters below me.

I looked up at the angry Miguel who had the usual 'Don't even think about it' written in his eyes.

-Adios tio!- I shouted and unfastened myself from the rope. I landed in another universe, or rather in someone's arms. I opened my eyes and…

-Hobie!- I shouted with joy.

-I wouldn't leave you to your fate for this fascist.-

Sorry, I haven't checked it, so there may be some mistakes or something.

#spider verse #x reader #across the spiderverse #fem reader #spiderman #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobie x y/n #hobie x you

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rockinhamburger · 2 years

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Nathan Shelley: A Defense

Who deserves empathy? Who deserves judgement?

I am not surprised but still disappointed by how much people seem to be really missing one of the central themes of Ted Lasso. It is not as bad as it was back in October when the finale aired, but god, there are still so many people that seem to want Nate to get no redemption and, in various ways, continually express no interest in seeing him become the best version of himself. A lot of people seem to want Nate to get his comeuppance, to see him suffer, ironically behaving a lot like Nate when he got to see the people who had wronged him suffer and receive their comeuppance.

For a show about the healing, transformative power of forgiveness, love and empathy, dang do some people stop short when it comes to Nate, arguably the most demeaned, bullied, downtrodden character in the entire show. Redemption and forgiveness for Rebecca, who tried to destroy dozens of careers and lives, and Jamie, who behaved like shit to the people he saw as beneath him, but none for Nate? So, we have three characters who have used their power incorrectly, but only one of them is the outlier who deserves judgement and retribution?

Alright, got that rant out of the way. Now I want to specifically address a thing I’ve seen that is utterly baffling. I’ve seen people argue that Jamie’s and Rebecca’s respective journeys are different than Nate’s because we saw them get better, whereas we saw Nate get worse. We didn’t see Rebecca and Jamie getting to the dark place they were in by S1; we landed on the start of their positive trajectory. The difference is that we are watching the entirety of that story play out with Nate.

Another argument I’ve seen is that the show hinted at Jamie’s and Rebecca’s good natures in S1, whereas we apparently saw the opposite with Nate. So, basically, Nate doesn’t deserve redemption because he got worse and his truly bad nature was hinted at early on. This implies something utterly ridiculous: that he was always bad, that Nate did not actually have positive traits to begin with. And that’s just… I can’t even cope with how wrong that is.

Selective memory for sure, so let’s go back to season 1 and remember why we love Nate and why his turn is so devastating.

In 1x01, Nate defends Roy’s great legacy as a footballer when Beard suggests his star years might be behind him. He gives Ted and Beard a lift to their places. Nate is loyal and generous with his time. He is also clearly self-conscious and lacks confidence, but he works hard and takes pride in his job.

In 1x02, Nate is still showing surprise that Ted is even deigning to notice him, let alone asking after his opinion. Nate says Sam has been ‘underperforming’ since he arrived from Nigeria. That’s a very generous thing to say; it’s clear he knows Sam has potential, but something is getting in the way of his success. This helps Ted make some great coaching decisions. Nate is smart and good at reading people. He also makes adorable boxes with his niece. A few of the players laugh at him for having done this. Jamie also calls him “bitch boy” to ringing laughter, and it doesn’t seem like it’s remotely the first time.

In 1x03, Nate nervously but bravely shares his idea for a strategy. He is speechless with joy when he gets to see it in action. He also shows that he cares whether the pitch is properly taken care of. He’s the kit man; presumably, he is not responsible for clearing shit off the field, but he does it anyway. We also see tinges of that in his first scene - caring about the field the players use. In the midst of all this, we also see that Nate is being bullied and harassed by Jamie, Colin and Isaac every day, and that no one has intervened, even Ted, who has decided Roy has to be the one to intervene.

In 1x04, when Ted invites Nate to be his plus one to the gala, Nate says, “I’m free every night.” As Jason has said, jokes on this show have consequences. This illuminates for us that Nate spends a lot of time on his own and even suggests Nate may not have many friends. We also learn that Nate can’t afford to buy a new suit. He later shows some gaining confidence when he says hello to Rebecca and a marked amount of grace considering she doesn’t appear to recognize him or realize he works for her. Later, Nate thanks Roy for talking to Colin and Isaac.

In 1x05, Nate encourages Ted to open up about the problems in his marriage by asking about the distance, but he does so in a very gentle way, asking if he can ask something first. He’s also self-aware enough to notice and apologize when he inadvertently provided unsolicited feedback on something with which he doesn’t have experience: “Marriage. Just so, you know, so complicated. So many different challenges and... I think. I don't know. Sorry.” Then he makes a smart conversational move to bring Beard into the discussion. “You ever been married?” After they win the match, Nate also walks Henry on to the pitch to see Ted after the game, reuniting father and son.

In 1x06, Nate participates in the ritual with the team, sacrificing sunglasses that made him feel perceived in a positive way. He is honest and contributes positively to the group.

In 1x07, Nate says he believes Richmond can do anything; he believes in the team and their ability to succeed. He has thoughts about the team, but he is scared to share them because he believes it could lead to losing his job and having to move back in with his parents. He also instantly accepts Ted’s apology, and once he’s finished the roast portion of his pre-game speech (which Ted encourages him to give), he provides Roy with genuinely good advice, not just on the field but in life, to make sure he isn’t keeping his anger inside because of what it might do to him as a person if he holds it in. He cares about Roy and his well-being.

In 1x08, Nate is supportive of Ted’s one night stand, like Beard and Higgins. And when Beard asks if Ted had fun, Nate immediately follows up to ask if *she* had fun. He also comes up with the name for the Diamond Dogs.

In 1x09, Nate apologizes for walking away from Ted over the Roy situation and for his dream self.

In 1x10, he believes he has been fired and lashes out. He is surprised Rebecca even knows his name, an echo of the first episode, and it turns out he has been promoted. He is so excited about this that he keeps blowing his whistle at inopportune times out of zeal. Later, he mourns the loss with the team.

I just have no patience for people suggesting Nate isn’t the wonderful character we saw so many hints of in S1, alongside the signs that Nate might lose his way for a minute. All of us have the capacity to hurt and help within us; we are all struggling with the tug between ego and soul. The idea that Rebecca and Jamie deserved redemption but Nate doesn't is not only a terrible message for the show to end on, it’s also a bleak way to look at the world. Either we all deserve redemption, or no one does - or more accurately, it's not about deserving redemption but about earning it. That is what Rebecca and Jamie have been doing along the way, so it’s not too late for Nathan Shelley. He can, as Rebecca said in 1x09, get on the road back.

We are all worthy of love and empathy because we are human and make mistakes. We hurt people because we are damaged by interacting with a broken, human world. This show presents the central thesis that kindness and empathy is transformative, and that wanting violent revenge and retribution is an ego-driven desire borne out by pain and suffering.

We need to appeal to our best selves, always, by returning to our greatest strength: love.

#nate shelley #ted lasso #tl meta #another nate post because i love him #character growth is positive even when the character's actions aren't

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consumed-by-fandom · 7 months

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DIDude ramblings warning im being silly again.

P2’s a bit of an unwilling participant when it comes to the events of Postal 1. For most of their life all he’s tried to do is help P1, whether thats protecting him, standing up for him, getting him to socialise and making friends, the usual stuff you’d do as a kid/teen. And later on in the years he helps get them a job etc. it’s never fully clear to P1 what P2 is so he always gets confused on how he’s suddenly able to function without having to stammer his way through apology after apology for things that weren’t his fault. P2 tries to let him know he’s doing it all, but he’s never fully listened to because P1 still thinks he’s a demon.

He doesn’t care at first, he even finds it funny. But when it starts getting in the way of being listened to, and he’s never really thanked for what he does, it gets to him and he acts out in retaliation. Cuz to him P1’s just ignoring him and pretending he doesn’t exist and refusing to accept him despite him trying to help, so he instead goes along with the title of being some malevolent force. Lots of nasty arguments, judgement and picking apart every single flaw P1 has. Because that gets him to listen, when he’s not being nice. That has an effect.

When 1997 comes around and P1’s at his worst, he doesn’t try to talk him out of his mental spiral into paranoia and what his brain is tricking him into seeing. He just keeps taunting and pushing him, and when the massacre does happen he sees it as a confirmation that he was right and P1 was wrong. And it makes him feel good.

What doesn’t make him feel good is seeing the person he cares for most slowly degrade and become a former shell of himself. That scares him to his core, and what makes him try to get P1 to realise that what they’re doing isn’t right and that they’re heading towards a very bad end. He doesn’t succeed, of course, and so his only option left is to just keep him safe at any cost and try to enjoy the remaining few days they have left. Forces himself to enjoy it, even if he really doesn’t.

When he’s eventually left alone and forced to live as himself he just represses everything he went through, and even when P1 comes back years later they never really talk about it. It makes him feel awful thinking back because he was so immature to P1 that he only made things worse instead of just trying to get through to him. They do talk it out at some point but even then its something that hangs around in the back of his mind as something he’s still capable of falling back into, just how flawed he truly is.

I like to think his “regret nothing” mindset is just a positive mantra that gets him through each day and allows him to see the joy in a world full of shit, but I also like to see it as a rule of sorts he has to follow. Because if he did have regrets (and he DEFINITELY does) they would eat him alive. His definition of acceptance is never actually what acceptance is. He thinks its “this exists/happened and I’m acknowledging it” and not “this exists/happened and thats okay, I’m willing to use this as a way to become a better person and heal”

Dude’s system basically works as both a way to survive and cope with their trauma, but also as a way to accept everything the Dudes are without shame or hatred. Yeah, they’re violent assholes with a lot of issues, but they’ll never be able to improve themselves if they don’t accept that’s who they are and learn to love the good parts of themselves too.

#i wrote this a few months ago but I need to clear out my drafts so. enjoy #insane ramblings #DIDude #headcanons #postal #postal dude #correction one month ago but im too lazy to fix the tags lol #i have so many drafts for didude but i wrote them ages ago so its a case of knowing what i still agree with and what ive changed #AND THEN ordering which ones to post #fuck #anyway

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insidereagan · 2 years

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Hi there, how are you doing? I was hoping we could please have some headcanons for Reagan, Brett, Gigi, Myc, and Glenn helping the reader recover from psychological/emotional abuse dealt by a relative that seriously damaged the reader’s self esteem.

hello! I’m good thank you, and of course you can!

sfw although mentions of @buse, trauma, panics attacks and that kind of thing

Reagan

she’s in the same position tbh, so she knows how it feels.

therefore she worries about you a shit ton.

once you open up to her about your trauma, she acts surprisingly clingy around you.

she is constantly checking on you, asking if you need a break etc

you reply with “i’ll only take a break if you do, hun,”

you two would most likely get therapy together, despite how hesitant reagan is at first it helps!

but that does mean she’s even more clingy/touchy around you now she’s feeling better. she just craved the touch and love she never got as a kid, but you’re okay with that.

she totally invents stuff to help you

if your ever getting a panic attack, flashback etc etc she’ll always ask if you need a cuddle, and if you!re comfortable with that, you’ll snuggle together and if not, she’ll try and comfort you in other ways.

if you’re both at work, and you need to go home, she’ll drive you home.

overall just really anxious, but grateful to have someone with the same experience, and loves to help you and care for you.

Brett:

same with reagan, he totally understands how you feel.

but holy shit he’s so doting and loving <33

he LOVES to compliment you, hold you, cuddle you and comfort you in any means possible.

he tries to cook after you’ve had a bad day. he’s not very good at first but then he slowly gets better!

I feel like you two would take cooking lessons so you can learn to cook for each other after the other ones had a hard day.

sweet baby brett just wants to give you the love you possibly never received.

he LOVES to tell you you did a good job. and he will.

like you could literally just do the smallest thing, and brett would be so proud of you, hype you up, and tell you how well you did.

he 100% would post pictures of you on social media, and brag about you and make a long ass paragraph about how lovely you are and how grateful he is for you.

your cuddle sessions last over an hour mostly (unless your not comfortable with touch!! then he’d find some other way for you two to connect)

he lets you be as vulnerable as you want around him, and if you ever want to cry into his shoulder, then let him know!

in conclusion, he loves to make you feel loved, because he knows how it feels to be unloved. lots of cuddles, kisses, smiles etc he’s just so caring!

Gigi:

so basically the entirety of the inside job tumblr fandom has decided her love language is gift giving (which it is)

she loves to gift you with things after a bad day (or just gift you on general)

she cares so much and is so worried about you

massive pda fan lol

like when you’re having a hard time, if you’re comfortable (she always asks first) she’ll bring you into the hallways and make out with you <33

she also loved to cuddle with you in bed!

she has literally the comfiest, biggest, fluffiest bed, and she will let you use it anytime.

if your ever having a panic attack, she’s not that experienced but she tries so damn hard!

i feel like she’d do a course or something on how to help you cope with your trauma. and before you know it, she’s a natural!

I feel like she’s the only character in inside job without parent issues, so she’d take you to see her family (if you’re comfortable) and they love you like their own <333

she’d order you sm takeover like <33 you two just slump on the sofa after maybe a flashback, panic attack, or just because and eat and watch tv together

literally just ask her for smth and sje’ll find it somehow

she will reassure you, give you compliments, literally any boost 24/7

she’s just such a supportive and lovely girlfriend, she loves you so much and is so sad for you. although she does worry quite a bit

Myc:

myc tries, he really does

he’s obviously not very good at reassuring so I feel like he’d get you a therapist.

, he’d never joke about your trauma. that’s just a step too far for him.

he never banters you unless you give him permission to!! he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

whenever your feeling bad, he’d try telling jokes to lighten the mood, or telling secrets about ppl at cognito.

he tries to comfort you! even if he’s not that good at first

he wouldn’t tell you this but sometimes he stays up at night thinking about how he doesn’t understand how some parents are allowed to have kids.

Glenn:

like myc, he’s not the most experienced but he tries!

he really loves yoy and is extremely overprotective.

if someone even dares come near you, they’ll regret it.

he’s so scary when he wants to be.

like Gigi, I think he’d do a course to help.

and he’s actually so caring! <33

he helps you calm down so well

he wants to come to your old house and k1ll whoever hurt you, but you stop him

thank you for the request hun! hope you enjoy :)

#inside job #reagan ridley #brett hand #andre lee #gigi thompson #magic myc #glenn dolphman #inside job reagan #inside job brett #autistic reagan ridley #x reader #self insert #adult animation #jr scheimpough

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my-mt-heart · 1 year

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Ok im gonna try to bring a bit of positivity here even if it might not seem like it at first lol. U might have seen (but i think u avoid twitter right?) Carol being attacked these last few hours/days regarding Sophia/Ed. How she supposedly let Sophia being sexually abused by Ed without doing nothing. How she screamed to Shane "stop!" and cried when he beat up Ed. Meaning she was weak and ridiculous, again.

First of all i think (correct me if im wrong) that its considered canon that Ed didnt abuse (sexually, that is) Sophia... yet, because he died, but he would have had tried to had he lived because he saw her "growing up" and was a sick psycho. And Carol acted on it by having Sophia taken physically far away from her father if i recall well (dont have the exact scene in mind hence why im vague).

Second of all, this is bullshit obviously. Those people have never been abused and it shows. How its hard to leave, because you still love him and actually believe him when he says he wont hurt u again. Because he's a "great father" and "only" hit you and not ur children (its stastically rare i think but it does happen). I've worked with a lot of women beaten up by their husbands (and believe it or not, a few man with their wives too. Even husbands with husbands or wives with wives. Again, more rare but still here) and all combinations exist: women dont give a shit anymore, wont forgive, and only wants to leave and/or ptotect their children, woman who cant leave because they still see the "amazing" man he was for the first 10 years, or the first 3 years. Or says things like "he was beaten up when he was a child by his dad so its not his fault. "

ALL combinations exist, no one knows what its like to be in the head or the heart of a beaten 's wife/person, and no one should judge someone's way of coping with it, dealing with it, reacting to it. It is NEVER the victims fault, even if in the case of a beaten's wife, she stays with the husband.

Sorry, so, this disgression to say that Carol was insulted yesterday and so on for staying with Ed and not protecting Sophia.

The goods news (and here comes the positive part lol) is that for once, everyone was coming at these assholes (who, yes, happened to be Richonners, but NO, not all Richonners are this way, absolutely NOT).

And when i mean everyone, i mean even those who usually dont say shit when Carol (and therefore Melissa) is called ugly and/or too old for Daryl. Even those who dont ship caryl and/ or dont particularly like Carol are saying "ohh hell noo, too far, u re not victim blaming Carol here, absolutely not". Even the "kind of official fan accounts" followed by stars of the show.

So, while i wish she was defended more often already for the ageist and sexist part of the attacks she suffers, its still comforting to see that this time, everybody or almost see how too far they have gone and reacted accordingly.

Sorry if im clumsy in my way of writing or presenting things, english is not my native language, hope i did ok.

First of all, thank you for all you've done for survivors of domestic abuse and for sharing your insight. I heard about the incident through the grapevine and it was nice to go back and see all the support Carol was getting from all sides :)

Even though we have to be responsible for what we say on SM, I don't think it should just be left up to the fans to create a safer environment for them (and even cast and crew) to interact with each other. We should also put pressure on AMC to stop fueling the sexism, ageism, racism, etc. seen not just in one particular subset of the fanbase, but across the board. For example, how about making Carol the same size as Daryl in the key art so people can literally see her as a lead character? How about abandoning the ambiguous language around Caryl's relationship so people can understand that, yes, a middle-aged woman with gray hair can be the middle-aged male lead's love interest and vice versa? How about hiring someone who actually supports their characters and their relationship to run the official SM accounts? That's the kind of change I'd love to see.

#caryl #caryl spinoff #carol peletier #melissa mcbride #darylneedscarol

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vampstel · 1 year

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I fell asleep. Anyway, here’s an infodump about my two boys (Lawrence + Rei) and their experiences with being neurodivergent. I’ll talk about my other neurodivergent characters a different day :P

Lawrence

He’s autistic. He was diagnosed in his late 20s. He was evaluated once in the late 90s as a preteen but all his behaviours either flew under the radar or were dismissed as quirks.

Sadly got bullied a lot in his school years due to being different but his parents were very supportive (his mother being autistic herself but not being diagnosed either). Thus, he has a lot of trust issues and some trauma he still needs to process.

He’s very blunt and can’t lie to save his life. This has gotten him in trouble many times and most people keep their distance away from him since they deem him rude and intimidating (“but he’s a sweetheart he really is please trust me” - Rei, probably)

He’s absolutely oblivious to nonverbal cues and social cues. Doesn’t understand societal norms and thinks they’re ridiculous. Also, he takes things too literally.

Used to mask as a child to try to fit in but stopped once he got older. He doesn’t give a shit anymore what people think and that’s very cool of him

His special interests are history, music, and cats. He only infodumps when people ask him to but BOY is he passionate when he does. That’s probably the only time you’ll get to see him being expressive otherwise his tone is flat and he looks either bored or angry.

He has sensory issues, has misophonia and can’t handle staying in crowded places. He absolutely despises when people talk too loudly or when voices overlap one another. He gets headaches because of this. He also can’t stand certain tactile textures and food textures. Shoutout to overly crispy food, he hates them with a burning passion.

He regularly stims and isn’t ashamed of it. He mostly stims due to boredom and stress, but occasionally does it when he feels extremely positive emotions. Twirling his hair, drumming his fingers, and spinning anything in his hands are his most common stims. You often see him doing them while he works. I think I mentioned this before but he’s skilled at spinning his conductor’s baton because of this

He’s touch averse but also touch starved which is a great combination that I personally suffer from myself. He gets uncomfortable when strangers touch him but he’s fine with family members and close friends touching him. He is particularly very touchy with Rei and basically makes the raven his weighted blanket or teddy bear at night

When he gets overstimulated, he often leaves the room and isolates himself to try to calm down. If he’s burntout, he takes a few days off work just to indulge in his interests and relax.

Rei

He has ADHD, was diagnosed in his early to mid 20s but is unmedicated because the medications he tried didn’t help him and negatively affected his health. His father, Yuuma, also has ADHD and was diagnosed late in his life. Yuuma is very supportive and helps Rei as much as he can.

He struggled a lot in school, mostly due to deadlines and his workload. He would’ve been top of his class hadn’t it been for the fact he often doesn’t do his homework or projects (and he was a literal delinquent when he was 14 so…)

He had a lot of peculiar hyperfixations and did a lot of hobbies before sticking to art and music. Due to this, he’s got a lot of skills most people don’t know about. Did I ever mention this man was good at fencing?

He suffers a lot with executive dysfunction and burnout. There are days, sometimes even months where he can’t work or do anything and the only thing he can do to cope is to gradually get back into things or just do nothing at all.

He has sensory issues. He has misophonia and gets really bad migraines when it gets triggered. He often has his noise cancelling headphones because of this.

He’s always in a state of overstimulation or understimulation. No inbetween. He’s gotten so used to it that he just rolls with it. Oh yeah, and he forgets to take care of himself. He’s just like me fr fr

He has insomnia because he overthinks a lot. He used to have meds but grew tolerance to it and the other meds he tried only made him oversleep. His current medication is Lawrence. I’m not joking. His brain turns off once he cuddles with his husband at night.

His main hyperfixations are art, music, and the occult. This man can talk about his fixations unprompted and won’t shut up about them at all. He gets really embarrassed about it afterwards and apologizes

He stims a lot to stay focused or grounded. Often pacing around the room (only when he’s alone), bouncing his leg, or spinning/clicking his pens (which pisses Lawrence off to no end which makes Rei do it even more LMAO)

He can’t and never has a schedule. He has a general idea of things he wants to do on a day to day basis, but never sticks to it completely and prefers to have a flexible schedule.

And there you have it. Both my faves are neurodivergent, who would’ve guessed. I don’t talk about them being nd a lot cause it isn’t a big focus in the story but it IS integral to them since you can see their traits and how it affects them. Especially with Lawrence. That poor man can’t take a break.

#꒰ v’s rambling ꒱#• character: lawrence winters #• character: rei miyazaki #I was gonna add Allen to this infodump but it would’ve gotten too lpng #long* anyway just know Al is my most chaotic nd character #Btw just a little bonus…#Rei and Lawrence help eachother out and bond together over their shared struggles #Like with misophonia for example. They know what ticks the other off and tries to help when the other is clearly overstimulated #They both nag eachother to take breaks from work #And Lawrence scolds Rei to take care of himself #I love they… so #so much

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aceinspaces · 2 years

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oh I have a positive update since I sorta left this blog by the wayside for a bit. But I have some happy stories from the last months

but I have the BEST nurse practitioner now from a pelvic pain specialist clinic. She is truly an Angel and I want to be her when I grow up even though I’m 25. I wanna brag on this woman. When my insurance didn’t approve my endo medication to relieve my pain she stomped down the hall and returned to me with a brown paper sack with a FOUR MONTH SUPPLY said it was a “free sample” and then within two days had my insurance rep meekly agreeing that the drug should be covered haha and found a local pharmacy in my area that had it for me. She apparently reamed them out over the phone that she is an expert in treating pelvic abdominal pain and their approval computer is not and does this on the regular for her patients. Holy shit.

when I had bladder pain she was on top of it figuring out if it was an adhesion, inflammation, or what and giving me treatment to relieve my pain. Holy shit, it worked!?

she referred me to a pelvic physical therapist who took me from “I’m in pain whenever my body decides to be aroused, and I can’t pee.” To being able to actually masturbate without any discomfort. Yo for two years orgasms made me feel like I had been punched in the stomach and put me in so much pain I would be nauseous. I’m ace af but I got a real swell sleep aid back and that’s great. Plus I can pee again. Miracles. I can use the biggest dilator now. That’s huge. I was struggling with number 3 last time I posted here my dudes.

recently I told her I was terrified my treatment options would be impacted by roe, and she said she would lawyer up or drive across state lines to refer me to a surgeon if anyone tried to tell her not to make her patients a priority or how to treat them. She knows I’m not interested in children and despite my age she promises the second my less invasive medications don’t work she will start working on a plan to remove the affected tissue even if they need to remove structures like Fallopian tubes or one of my very cyst-ridden ovaries because I know who I am and can decide my reproductive future obviously. (A really rare point of view in a lot of folks in the gyno setting tbh). ((I don’t want to recover from a surgery rn and the medicines have been effective so I’m ok))

I would cry and remember being physically hurt during exams by other doctors and nurses before going to appointments. I have trauma surrounding medical situations due to the neglect I faced in the past. This past august for the first time in a good while I went into her office and had full faith she would care about my concerns and hold my interests as a priority in my treatment. I have NEVER had a provider like this before. I’ve gained my functional daily life back enough to go back to uni, I’m in nursing school.

I genuinely want to be someone like her who makes people who have been vulnerable and ignored in the healthcare setting feel seen. Even if I could only become a fourth the nurse she is it would be an honor. My life has been measurably improved because I finally have a provider who listens to me. I still got endo, I still have bad days when I flare up, but I have tools to cope with it now and the flares have been less severe and less frequent. Surgery in the future when my insurance stabilizes will be the ideal way to reduce the pain long term but until then… I’m doing better than I have in years with her.

#endometriosis #pelvic floor dysfunction #pelvic pain #positive story #medical #Shout out to my np Melissa for real I love her #she’s very funny too honestly and very frank #also in nursing school rn every time my textbook says to watch out for something I swear I’ve seen her like do everything RIGHT #Like every example I get of how you should be ideally? I can think of an example #I have Bad examples from ex docs I’ve fired too lmao

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ultravioletrayz · 3 months

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HIT SO HARD

Pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, ANGST, break up, mommy issues, mental health issues, mental breakdown, violence/mild physical abuse, slight allusion to suicide, hurt no comfort

Summary: miguel has a breakdown and decides to push you away

A/N: first attempt at angst, kinda nervous 😝

Word Count: 1.3K

Miguel grits his teeth and takes deep, shaky breaths as he tries to resist the urge to punch a hole through the flimsy desk of his home office. You’re in the next room over, and you’ve already dealt with enough of his shit, let alone another meltdown. His fists are clenched as tears well up in his sharp red eyes, which dart over to the piles upon piles of paperwork and reports on the status of several anomalies captured by Spider-People within the past month he needed to assess. It’s not the most stressful part of Miguel’s job, but it was the most draining. Especially since he’s home with you. At least when he’s at HQ, he’s in an environment where he can either work or do nothing, and he always opts to work. When working from home, he only wants to forget about leading the Society and spend time with his favourite girl. But somehow, his responsibilities always make you out of reach.

He needs a break.

As Miguel struggles to get through a few more papers, the stress of always being relied upon, always having others expecting things from him never giving anything back, and punishing him for being anything but the best accumulates. In a fit of rage and helplessness, Miguel’s claws emerge from his fingertips and he rips apart the arms of his desk chair. Unsatisfied, he stands up and kicks the innocent chair into the wall, causing photo frames to fall and shatter, only adding to the guilt he feels for not being able to cope with his privilege as a leader.

His claws retract as his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath, and he immediately breaks down into tears, hiding his face in his hand as he spots the ruined photo of you and him. He’s so selfish. He should be happy he has control over the safety and well-being of every being in the multiverse, and that he has the honour to protect and serve the people. But he just yearns for a normal life. A life he could be spending with the beautiful girl he neglects because she makes him feel vulnerable, and without that control, he’s worthless. He’s just an angry, resentful piece of shit who happens to have powers that make him obligated to be in a position of power and control. God, what he’d do to just-

“Miguel?” You whisper, reaching out to console Miguel. All the noise had caused you to end the FaceTime call you were having with a friend, startling you greatly. But you had to push your own feelings aside for now to help your boyfriend.

“Don’t. Don’t come near me.” Miguel hisses, eyes wide in surprise due to your sudden presence as tears stream down his face. He sighs and tries to soften his tone, his voice cracking as his hands tremble. “Por favor. Vete, cariño. I hate it when you see me like this.”

Miguel stumbles away from you, turning around so that the pure concern in your eyes can really sink in. He feels like a monster, having caused a pretty girl like you so much pain and uncertainty in his pathetic attempts at being a good man for your sake. Every time he makes the slightest mistake, says or does something so subtly wrong, it’s as if he can feel his mother breathing down his neck, telling him how lazy and useless and selfish he is. How awful of a man he is. And every time he breaks down and you, his angel, comes to his rescue despite it being his goddamn job to protect others, he dreads the day that you’ll think the same thing of him. That he’s a no-good freak. He wouldn’t be able to live if you viewed him the same way Conchata did.

“Stop it. Let me hug you, let me help you.” You plead, taking another step towards Miguel with outstretched arms, only to be met with more tears and another shaky step away from your offer of comfort.

He can’t keep making you do this. You’re too good for him. Miguel needs to set you free, even if it kills him.

“Leave,” Miguel whispers, staring down at the floor to avoid your gaze, his fists clenched and his claws threatening to pierce his palms.

“You can’t expect me to just go back to the couch and-”

“No. I mean leave for good. Leave and don’t come back. I’m done with you.” Miguel utters, his words blunt and cruel as he turns his back to you and assesses the damage he’s caused to his belongings, rather than having to see how much damage he just caused you.

You feel your heart sink, a lightheadedness overcoming your body and causing you to tremble ever so slightly. He can’t be serious. Miguel loves you, he ensures to tell you every time you two are together. What changed? What did you do wrong? Was he just hurting and trying to push you away, or did he really mean it?

“Don’t… Don’t say that. We love each other.” You whisper, lips quivering as you hesitantly reach out to rest your hand on Miguel’s back in a feeble attempt to calm him down.

The sudden contact alarms Miguel. He’s in such a vulnerable and unstable state, that he isn’t able to control himself, or act rationally. He swore that he’d never do anything to hurt you, you were the light of his life. But he’s losing his mind, and gradually becoming everything he swore he’d never become. Maybe he is a bad guy. A bad guy who hit his girlfriend.

You almost fall to the ground at the sharp contact Miguel’s fist makes with your cheek. You lean against the doorframe, looking up at Miguel with a terrified look on your pretty face, which is already turning a deep shade of purple. Miguel is completely appalled with what he’s just done, his whole body being overcome with shame and guilt as he rushes over to help you. He feels like he could vomit, the way you’re looking at him makes him want to die. Before Miguel can reach out to soothe the wound on your face with his touch, you swat his hand away, completely and utterly terrified of the man who’s supposed to love and protect you. Haphazardly, you run out of the room and gather your favourite handbag, which you always leave packed with your essentials. You rush to grab your phone and make your way to the front door, not wanting to be in the presence of Miguel after he just punched you in the face during his meltdown.

“¡No, no, no, no, no, cariño, espera! Baby, please. I swear, I didn’t mean to. You know I didn’t mean to. Please, don’t leave. You can’t leave. I need you, I can’t do this without you, mi vida. I love you. Please, just listen to me!” Miguel begs, sobbing as he follows you around the apartment. He desperately wants to reach out and grab your wrist when you start turning the doorknob to leave, but he doesn’t want to hurt you more than he already has.

You turn around to face him, and Miguel winces at the sight of your black eye already starting to poison your flawless features. All you can do is cry and glare at him as you adjust your bag on your shoulders. Miguel wasn’t the man you thought he was. You knew from the start he was broken, plagued with the trauma of his past. But you never expected him to become physical with you. You’d never be able to look at him the same.

You take a deep breath, stepping out of the apartment while keeping your eyes locked onto Miguel’s sharp, red ones. As you start to walk down the hall towards the elevator, Miguel feels his world ending as he hears you mutter to him.

“You’re not a good guy, Miguel.”

this killed me. poor baby :(

#ultravioletrayz #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara #miguel x you #spider man 2099 #spider man 2099 x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel 2099 #miguel atsv #miguel angst #miguel spiderman

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apatheticveil · 1 year

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Here we go again...

I want to meet the person that decided to make a large change in their life, stuck to it first time and succeeded. Is this a thing? I'm not talking about those that needed to quickly otherwise their lives were on the line. I mean habits or lifestyle changes that were going to increase the quality of life (but not necessarily kill it if you didn't do it)

I won't lie and say that I've ever been good at taking care of myself. Any aspect of self-care seems to have a wavering success rate. Skin, weight, food, health, hair, mental stability, everything.

The want to change and improve has been there for years. The actual motivation hasn't. Many attempts have fallen through.

I think the straw that broke the camel's back was bursting into tears when a colleague that I barely knew passed away. I was at my heaviest weight with terrible skin, drinking copious amounts of alcohol every day and eating whatever I could get my hands on. I had mood swings like a motherfucker and seemed to be stressed after the smallest inconvenience. Not only that but every 2 weeks, I seemed to get sick.

What does that have to do with crying over someone dying?

I cried 2x while at work and even though it was a sad event, I seemed to have taken it super hard. Even though I didn't know him well or spent much time with him. Queue to 3 hours later when I burst into tears 2 more times over my employee review. It was positive with one minor thing I needed to watch out for. I even knew it was something I wasn't good at. But apparently it upset me beyond belief.

I came home that night, drunk, swollen from crying and feeling sick wondering why the fuck I had cried so much. I think this is where I had finally hit the last of my tolerance. Guess what. I had to call in sick the next day too as whatever happened caused my body not to cope.

Now you would think I would resolve to make a change then and there. But nope. Took me another 3 months afterward to actually make the first step. That day was just when I knew that I wasn't in a good space. Mentally or physically.

Over those 3 months, my attention, stamina and energy got lower and lower and all parts of my personal and professional life suffered. I turned into the surly girl who couldn't hold a conversation (because I simply stopped caring what was being said) I would forget almost everything. My empathy was completely gone. And I started getting sick more and more.

I had to wait 6 weeks to have my anxiety medication balance my chemicals again (of course, I just had forgotten to take it for nearly 6 months). This seemed to be the one thing that gave me enough focus to look into a resolution.

I joined the weight loss challenge at my work. Not because I thought I could win. But because I wanted the humiliation of people knowing my weight. And being forced every week to stand up and have people watch the number on the scales. I'm a manager at my work. The only manager participating. In fact, I'm in the competition against one of my employees. I needed that level of embarrassment to show that maybe something isn't right here.

I joined the gym. Only because a handful of people in my life wanted to as well and I needed them to keep me accountable. This is going to come up again later. Also the fact I would now have to spend $90 a month (in a shit ass economy) so the want to exercise will be balanced with the fact I don't wanna waste money right now.

I spoke with a close friend (shout out Jamie) who also wanted to make changes in her life. Just knowing someone else was looking into self improvement made the thought not so daunting. Being asked how my progress was going made the answer of "not well, haven't done anything" more motivating. I hate seeing those words.

We had all these goals and I had shared them with a couple of other people. And I tried believe me I did.

But this is where things began to change for the better. And trust me, this is going to sound incredibly stupid. After looking at my list, i realised that in order for me to achieve anything, I need to actually heal myself. I was nowhere close to be able to physically or mentally do it. I would fail constantly. I don't have it in me to make these big changes and that's okay. I need to work on being okay enough so I can.

Lose weight? Sure. But maybe getting up in the morning without feeling like death would be a better start. Work on skin routine so that I have a perfect complexion? Not insane. But maybe look into eating a decent meal that doesn't make me nauseas would be a little better. Work out 5x a week? Maybe not snapping at everyone because I don't care what they're talking about is a little more important.

That is what clicked in my head. I'm not going to achieve anything if I can't function like a basic human being. I need to get through a month without feeling sick. I need to wake up feeling okay. I need to eat a meal and feel my body actually accept instead of reject. I need to go into a day with a positive outlook, not instantly a negative one.

The shift mentally seemed to have opened up my eyes. And this shift was only able to happen with having the positivity of the people around me and being very strict with my anti-depressants.

So with this in mind, I took awhile to process. What can I do to achieve this. I need to be healthier. Just so I have the strength to change. Have I tried being healthier in the past? Sure, and it fucking failed. Why? And that's where all of this really changed.

Psychologically, how do I work? What things work for me? How do I respond? I'm stubborn. Stubborn as fuck. I can use the "salesperson" gift and talk and manipulate. I need to be told. I need rules and I need to be held accountable. Being a strong, independent woman with no sense of what is good for you has fucked me up big time.

So I talked to the doctor. These are my issues. Do I need to be concerned? From a medical stand point, i'm okay for now but heading down a bad path. Great! Tell me the truth. Make me scared.

Next, I searched for a nutritionist. I hate food. I hate cooking. I hate shopping for food and meals and everything. I hate it with every fibre. But this is how we survive as a species. Fuck it alright. Tell me in plain terms what I need to eat. Stay on my ass. Keep an eye on me. If you let me wander, I will. If you give me any slack, i'll take it. I'm undisciplined with a strong head. Give me an inch, i'll fucking make a gigantic valley. The nutritionist I found offered all of the above. A 12 week plan where I have to check in with her. Meal plans, recipes, tests. A fucking app where I can message her. An app where I have to upload a food diary and she reads it every week. That there is what works for me. I need someone to watch over my shoulder but for my own good. Now for someone to surview me this close mustn't be cheap. And you're right. Just for the consults alone, i'm looking at close the $1k. Thats not including supplements, extra testing and oh yeah....THE FOOD. But like the gym. I'm paying money i dont really have to spare for this to happen. I'm guilted into making this work.

She works with gut health. An issue I've had since 5 mins into my life. Constant tummy aches, nausea, bloating, vomiting, food intolerances. Everything. On and off for my entire life. This isn't about losing weight. This is about health. I need to feel okay to make a change.

And here we are. I've been working with her for a month now and already i'm way better. She listens so intently and creates a personalised plan. This means I know that all the effort is for things specific for me. Not for the masses. I'm working on gut health, heart health and skin. Luckily, these seem to be very cohesive with one another.

So now that we are at this point, I finally feel like I have the energy to start looking forward at goals. Realistic goals.

The next 30 days, i'm about to enter into a plan to address some of these health issues. I have SIBO. You should have seen me when I found out. I was so happy. Finally something to grasp onto. A strict eating plan and an in depth supplement regimen. It's going to be hard but I maybe able to finally feel okay. This is where it all turns around. I can feel it. I'm so positive that this is a turning point. I want this blog to show and reflect my life changing (for the better).

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