If you want a woman to have fat titties and a fat ass but can't handle the accompanying fat tummy, arms, and legs, then you are a coward and your bloodline will not survive the winter.
his father tried to beat it out of him and the army took care of what was left; now it only shows up when he's emotionally charged
soap making a risky decision in the field, going against ghost's orders because he doesn't have time to explain himself before it'll be too late, and it nearly gets him killed
he's standing at attention, ready for ghost to read him the riot act, and he does; screaming at him for his recklessness, his stupidity, dressing him down in a way he hasn’t in years
but then his rampage slows down
he starts stumbling over his words, like he can't get them out fast enough before another's stepping on its heels, and soap frowns, equal parts confused and worried. he's never heard ghost like this before, not even when he's been swaying with blood loss
"for f-fuck’s sake, johnny, don't y-y-you know how t-to fuckin’ th-th-think!" ghost rages, spinning back on him where he's been pacing
and it takes a single look at soap's concerned face for him to register that in his fearful anger, his voice's been skipping
been failing
he grits his teeth so hard they ache, his jaw popping, and turns his back on soap before he can make an even bigger fool of himself
"d-d-dis- dism- d-" he shakes his head with a hateful growl, his fingers digging into his palms. "fuck off!"
ghost stalks away, his cowardly tail tucked between his legs, and feels soap's lost eyes on his back the whole way
whump is such a strange thing for me. ‘oh im having trouble shouldering the burdens of daily life, let me play scenes in my head of someone getting the shit kicked out of them (fictionally), that’ll make me feel better’ and it DOES
Ghost who doesn't kill roba before the man can escape and dissappear off the face of the earth?
Ghost who wears scars from his time captive, each one painful and distinct, a horrible memory that makes itself known on bad days tucked under blankets. His lower back is burned with Roba's brand, a mark made to never let ghost forget exactly who owns his life.
Ghost who loses a young recruit on an op, assumed KIA. It's unfortunate, but that is the price of war. People die, even the young ones with bright eyes and a happy laugh for each of his shitty jokes.
Ghost who is sent with the task force to clear out a drug smuggling base, only to find it full of corpses. Disfigured, brutalized. The sort of gore that's personal, feral and righteous in its execution.
Ghost who nearly loses a hand when he's ambushed by you, the very same recruit lost weeks ago. You're covered in blood, eyes wide and snarling as if you are no more than a beast.
Ghost who sees the still healing burn on you shoulder, the one that mirrors his own long-healed scars. The one that claims you as roba's property.
Ghost who realizes with horror that you probably spent all those weeks since being "KIA" as a prisoner of Roba. He freezes for the first time ever, and it's only Kyle and Price holding you down that he isn't killed on the spot.
Ghost who watches you struggle on the floor, sees himself in your place. Blames himself for not saving you, for not searching. He could have prevented this.
I can't speak for veterinary school, but vet techs learn anatomy, diseases, anesthesiology, surgical assisting, pharmacology, emergency medicine, husbandry, radiology, diagnostic testing, parasitology, nutrition, preventative medicine, and behavior for cats and dogs. Then we do it all again for large animals and exotics.
Nearly all of us experience compassion fatigue at least once.
Please be kind to veterinary staff. We're not in it for the money. We love your animals and want the best for them.
Pt.3 of touch repulsed!simon riley x touch!starved reader
18+ Very angsty, emotionally unavailable and kinda toxic Simon, some gaslighting vibes from Simon in this part, hints of potential Soap x reader
Pt. 1 | Pt.2
There are two things you’ve known about Simon since you met him that night almost a year ago. First, he doesn’t like to be touched. Second, he’s very, very good at following orders. So he doesn’t call, and he doesn’t text— just like you said— but what he does do is let himself into your apartment the morning after you sent that fateful breakup text.
Malicious compliance, is what comes to mind as you scrutinise the towering figure taking up space in your kitchen like an omen of death.
Should’ve sent the text after you changed the locks. Oh well…
Well there he is, all mile-long legs and burning dark eyes that drag over your figure like molten glass over your skin. It burns terribly, and you can’t tell if the scorching heat pooling in his bottomless irises is rage or desire. Maybe it’s both.
He’s leaning almost casually against the kitchen countertop that he had bent you over not even 24 hours ago. You cringe at the memory of scrubbing the resulting mess off of the marble, and then cringe even harder when you remember that his handprints from that ordeal are still branded across the skin stretched over your hips.
Distantly, you wonder what kind of sight you make with mascara still smeared across your cheeks from last night’s tears, still in your sleep rumpled clothes, and your hair a wreck atop your head.
Simon just looks… the same as ever. Distant, nonchalant and carefully blank in the face, almost statuesque with how stoically and still he stands there with his thick arms crossed over his chest, but there’s a line of tension thrumming through his powerful body that you can clock even from across the room. You’ve lovingly massaged that live wire of tension from his body many times before, pressed kisses to the freckled line of his sore shoulders, and the tenderness of those memories makes something in your eyes sting.
Never again.
There are too many things to say, too much weighing on your mind and on the tip of your tongue, things like I think I’ll never love again like I did with you and I don’t know how I’m going to live without you haunting me and I’m just now realising you gave me nothing in return, and most self-deprecatingly did I do something wrong to deserve this?
The woman you were a day ago would’ve been asking Simon how to fix this, would’ve seen him standing there and run into his arms like a rabbit into a hunter’s snare believing that the fact he showed up at all meant he loved you, that his presence alone was a good enough apology.
The woman you used to be would’ve said and done so many different things, but now you simply settle for a quiet “Leave, Ghost.”
Simon doesn’t startle, but he does narrow those dark eyes when he hears his callsign instead of his name, his spine visibly coiling with tension as he draws himself to his full height.
“Saw yer text,” he begins, and you clench your jaw.
“I don’t wanna hear it Ghost—”
“I ain’t here ta talk, birdie.” His face is carefully neutral as he says it, but his tone indicates that a sneer would be marring his face if he allowed it. “Jus’ wanted to know if you were sure—”
You snarl, flushing hotly with sudden impatience at the doubt in his tone. “I am—”
“—‘Cause we both know you’ll be back.” He says it evenly, surely, like it’s the simple conclusion waiting at the end of this story, eyes boring steadily into your own and stripping you layer by layer to your core insecurity.
The anger drains from you in an instant, mouth hanging open with shock. There’s a battle raging in your mind and a growing hole in your gut because you’re actually not sure if he’s wrong.
“Fuck you Simon,” and you hate the way your voice wavers. You point a trembling finger at the door. “Leave.”
“It’s been the other way round this whole time, swee’heart.” A smirk flits across his scarred lips as he moves to follow your command, maliciously compliant once more, his eyes glinting smugly like polished obsidian as he sees how you fall apart bit by bit.
He slinks out your front door and strides into the hallway with the grace of a cat, while you feel like you’re going to shake out of your skin. You follow on instinct, only coming to a stop when you see that Scottish bastard standing in the hallway, one of the boxes of Simon’s clothes in his arms.
Those blue eyes flit over you, a brief recon, lingering just a touch too long on the streaks of mascara on your face, careful consideration in his gaze, before darting to Simon for orders. A loyal fucking mutt if you ever saw one. “We set LT?”
“Solid, Johnny.” Johnny, you scoff.
Simon is the first to disappear round the corner but Johnny pauses there, meeting your eyes with careful consideration and something startlingly like concern in his gaze, before he too vanishes from view.
Fuck you, Simon.
You slam your door closed, something symbolic settling within you as you turn the lock with finality. It takes a few minutes for your brain to process what just happened, for the rage to settle in, simmering lowly in your blood. This anger is going to make you do something stupid, you just know it.
They say the best way to get over your ex is to get under someone else… and with icy blue eyes lingering in your mind, you think you have a more than suitable candidate.
A/N: sorry this next part took so long 😭 life has been hectic lately and I didn't have time to write a lot
Please let me know if you'd like to be added/removed from the taglist. Kindly note that I will not add you if you are an ageless blog.
Taglist: @succulambb , @simonghostrileysbalaclava, @lahniii, @fertilise-me, @whore-for-viktor, @little-mini-me-world, @pistachioslife, @maybe-not-this, @jayc515, @fae-dreamer-99, @ghostlypineappl, @dillybuggg, @pastawench, @hungyfish, @cobyjackkkkk, @sevikasblackgf, @dreamingoftomorrow, @thriving-n-jiving, @lovely-giggles, @mims900, @503delilahh, @unethicalhellhole, @diseasedclitoris, @shinjiwinjisworld, @mushr90, @callsignbumblebee, @creydelune, @strawberrygato, @gojoswaterbottle, @fandomsinthegalaxies, @nisyi, @preeyas-world, @wolfofluna, @lilynotdilly, @iheartsturniolotriplets, @darling006, @xstrostxrgirl, @0lives10, @livingdeadgrl996, @melllzz, @tati-na, @luvdollyy, @annoyinglysweetobject, @400badrequest, @noonespecial2347, @moth-murdock, @bloomom, @buttercup337, @maybe-a-bi-witch, @s-a-v-a-n-a-34, @backtotheintro, @stillcantfindausername, @haven-1307, @ilovehyperfixating, @flamehero-phoenix, @lettucel0ver, @hunter-hearz-all, @kiwibao, @thedollmakerkai, @avgdestitute, @barcelonaaababe, @thewyrmsbrine, @jazlinda, @creepytoes88,
germansingergirl
annaxmalina
ellievsbear
2087
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
