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#which puts a whole other rhing in here
greatghuleh · 2 years
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RTD's comments about the doctor not regenerating in thirteen's outfit is such garbage and I hate it.
RTD being RTD again.
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spacyparker · 7 years
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Code Black
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MASTERLIST - PROMPT LIST
Request : “hey! 76 and 200 for Peter please. thanks!!!”
»  “Stop talking about the past, I could be dead in a matter of hours… make me up a future.”
»  “You’re really proposing to me? For real? Now?”
   + “Prompt 25 + 198 with peter”
»  “He was unconscious when I found him”
»  “Promise me you’ll come back… I need you to promise me.”
Characters : Peter Parker x reader
Word count : 1.7k
A/N : I feel like I haven’t posted in forever ! So here’s a lil request, sorry but college takes a lot of time and I can’t really write :((
He looked at his phone, turned pale, then quickly left the room. You watched him, smiling. But if only you knew what was going to happen, you wouldn't have been. Your life was going to change in a few hours, in all the possible ways.
When he came back, something had changed, he wasn't wearing casual clothes but his spider-man suit. You frowned and sighed, understanding that he wouldn't be able to attend your movie night.
“Again... ?” You stepped forward to take his hand, but you would have prefered it to be naked so you could feel his warm skin. “You already had so many missions this week, and it's just thursday. Can't someone else replace you ? I need this movie night, really...”
Peter's hand ran through his hair and he looked directly into your eyes. He was pale, and had a few bruises on his jaw and his eyebrows from his previous fights. But nothing could stop him. “It's more important than the others babe. The... The text said ‘code black’. Everyone's going.”
It was your turn to become paler. The idea of Peter risking his life have always been hard, but the words “code black” seemed too much. You shook your head, Peter hearing your heart beating way faster as the seconds passed. “Don't go..” You begged. And your lips started to shiver, and you tried your best not too cry, and you were too weak to succeed, and the tears fell, and Peter had to look away. “Just stay with me, run away ! You don't have to do this.” Your voice was unsure, and you had trouble not to stutter. “I need you, don't leave me.”
“Y/N !” He tried to reason you. “You know I need to go. We're talking about billions of lives, I can't... I can't... I have to, don't make it harder, please. I need you to support me, you've always supported me before.”
You looked away, you knew you sounded slefish, but you just couldn't live witout this boy, he was your everything, he had been for years now. “But this is a code black, this is more than serious, you could... You could...”
He put his hands on your shoulders, gently rubbing them and forcing you to look in his eyes again. “Hey, Y/N, baby... You trust me, right ?”
You shrugged, your tears have stopped falling but you knew it would be a matter of time before it'd start back. Promise me you’ll come back… I need you to promise me.”
There was a silence before Peter took the talk again, unsure if it was the right rhing to do. “I promise I'll come back.” He nodded. But he knew that promise could be broken anytime soon tonight, he knew what he was getting into, and it was all about death. Of course he'd to the best he could, he didn't want to leave you, he didn't want you to be alone, but he didn't know anything about the future.
You leaned in to kiss him, putting all the love you could as if it was the last time.
You were stuck in your bed, watching the news as mayne journalists were recording the fight out there, risking their lives, but not risking it as much as all the heroes protecting the city. You were afraid, not only afraid for Peter, but also afraid for you, hearing many explosions all around you, trying not to look through the window to not see dirty ruins floating in the air.
“Iron Man's down, I repeat Iron Man's down !” Shouted the reporter trying to avoid wreckage. You could tell there was panick in her eyes, but also in her voice. You weren't surprise though, everyone was terrorized by the abominable giant red alien who wanted to conqueer the city. If he was green, he could have been mistaken for Godzilla, but that would have mean the situation was risible, and it surely was not.
The city was being crashed by both the villains and the heroes, many lives have already been saved but a lot have been taken. It was war, and during war, there was no way not having loss. If Tony Stark was a part of that loss, then how Peter would he end up ? A new tear fell on your cheak and you pulled one of his sweater you carried with you since he left closer to you.
And suddenly the TV wasn't the only sound in the apartment. Glass. Broken glass. A shout got off your throat. That was it, they were there, the aliens were there.
“Y/N ! Y/N !” Someone called your name.Well, not a someone, nor an alien. Peter. It was Peter. You got up faster than you've ever had before and ran to the kitchen, where your super-heroe just got the window broken to get in easier.
He was seriously injured, he had blood everywhere on his face, small and huge wounds, his suit was ripped and you noticed he was limping. How much he might suffer didn't stop you to jump onto his arms. He was alive. “Peter I was so scared ! They... They said Tony is... He is...”
Peter didn't let you the chance to finish your phrase, he leaned in to kiss you, and you didn't mind the taste of iron the blood on his lips had, all you cared about was the fact he was alive, still able to kiss you, or love you, or just breathe.
“Marry me.” He whispered taking his breathe back, his swollen eyes injected of blood looking right through yours which widened. Marry me. Those words got your head spinning. You and Peter had already talked about marriage, but you were both 21 and he said it was too soon. You never understood that, because for you it only meant he didn't think his life would end with you. “Y/N ?” He called your name, you have maybe be thinking for too long.
But this was definitely not something you could not think about at the moment. How dared he ? “Really ? Really Peter ? You’re really proposing to me? For real? Now?” You shook your head, it felt... So selfish from him, he had always say no, he had always refused to. “Why ?!” You shouted with a thrilling voice meanwhile tears were now flooding your face. “You always said we were too young, why are you doing this to me, why now ? You told me you didn't want to, you told me it wasn't a good idea ! You-”
“Y/N !” He shouted back, wanting you to stop talking. Which you did after hearing his tense voice. “Stop talking about the past, I could be dead in a matter of hours… make me up a future.” Your eyes widened and you were too shocked now to keep crying. Your hand hit his chest and Peter coughed, he was already badly injured and it didn't help him.
“Stop talking like this !” You screamed. Dead. This word got your heart to stop beating. Dead. He couldn't. “You promised me you'd come back, fucking alive Peter, fucking A-LIVE !”
He grabbed your wrists in his fists and shook his head. “Y/N ! Be my fiancée. Please I need to go back there now, I can't stay. So tell me you'll marry me, tell me you'll carry my children and help me eat when I won't be able to do it myself because I'd be too old. Tell me you'll be mine forever and never get away. Please, please Y/N I need your answer, will you forgive all my bad behaviours and marry me ?”
His fingers left your wrists and got up right to your cheeks, grabbing your jaw. He was waiting, again, for your answer. And the only reason you took your time to answer wasn't because you were confused anymore, but because you felt like he'd leave just after you would have said him, and you didn't want him too, you needed the time to stop, to live in this exact moment forever. His fingers put more pressure on your bones, hurrying you to respond. “Y-yes...” You looked away. And his lips crushed on yours again, for a more passionate but rushing kiss.
And without a word he left you, and the only thing you could do was watching him getting out through the now broken window. Another promise. A good one, and you didn't even fell good about it.
Crying was tiring, and it wasn't a surprise you have felt asleep with all the crying you have had. It appeared Tony wasn't dead, he had only been beaten up at a point he couldn't get up and he had been taken to the hospital, but not everyone got his chance. You heard Clint Barton, a former agent of the S.H.I.E.L.D had left, like the one and only Captain America whose loss got the country in mourning, and some others you didn't even know about.
But no news from him, you have felt asleep and he was still alive, still fighting to save as many lives as possible, and especially yours. He was a hero, your hero. No. Your fiancé.
Your phone started ringing and that was what woke you up in a leap full of surprise. You grabbed your phone and immediately picked up with a sleepy but caring voice. “Peter ?!” There was a silence, your nose wrinkled. Peter... “Hello ?”
“He was unconscious when I found him.” This was not Peter, this was definitely not Peter. It was Sam, one of his co-worker, well when the didn't fight one against the other in fact.
“What... What are you talking about ?” Your voice was as shaing as your lips, and even all of your body. But you knew what he was talking about, he was talking about him. He was unconscious. “N-No... You... How-how is he now ? Sam where is he, I gotta see him, I got... I gotta see him !” Yyou got up but the whole world seemed to spin way faster than it usually was, and you fell on the ground with your eyes so full of sadness you couldn't see anything.
But you heard one last thing, guessing your phone had fallen not far from you. The impact had put the call on speaker, and the voice echoed in the small bedroom.
“I'm sorry. It's too late.”
But he had promised.
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10-21-19 (Monday)
Had a seizure upon arriving home today. So that was fun.
Also I want to apologize and clarify my behavior.
I am sorry for getting so upset with you. It isn't your fault. But I do feel kinda trapped rn. You're not a bad person or therapist. Your personality isn't... Bad. You are who you are and theres a no changng that. But yeah, sometimes you grate on my nerves. But there really isn't a better option out there for me. I do feel like I've made far more progress with you than any other therapist but I want you to understand that my ability to talk about my gender openly and have it maybe not personally understood but conceptually at least... I've never had that in a therapist and it was pretty well game changing.
So thank you. For putting in the work to understand. It means the world to me both to me personally and for my community. That's something we desperately need. Therapists typically don't understand these things. And yeah, it makes it REALLY hard to deep dive gender related trauma when you have to explain the concept of pronouns to someone several times. So I think a lot of my progress has come from that. And it means a lot to me. But I'm not sure there really is a good solution to this problem. If you can think of one, please by all means suggest it. Maybe write it down and let me think it over between sessions? Because rn I am struggling to maintain composure in some fairly straightforward situations. I have a lot of rage built up and a BUNCH of frustration. I'm still reeling from the loss of Sara from my life and I'm honestly really bitter rn. You are far from the first person I've snapped at but I am desperately trying to keep it under control. Because it's not anyone's fault and no one can change it and I get that. So I just feel worse when I realize what I'm doing. Idk.
This isn't an easy situation to be in and I'm sorry you've gotten caught in the middle of it through no fault of your own just for doing the right thing and learning things for your patients. I do want you to understand how much I appreciate that. It means a lot to me. And I don't want to chase you off from learning more. I just am very very frustrated because there's probably a therapist out there that I'd actually vibe super well with and everything but they won't fucking learn their shit and I won't benefit from it otherwise. Many therapists who have been in the field for a while feel like they know everything. And that's Gabel's biggest issue. She thinks she knows damned everything about trans people but still subscribes to "You have to want surgery, HRT, binary pronouns and designations, and everything must be binary no matter what." As a treatment method. And that's not helpful. That's in fact very very harmful to the vast majority of trans people out there ans hearing a young trans person break down and SOB because Gabel told them they weren't trans because they're nonbinary is heart wrenching and it will literally make you hate her. I didn't hate her for saying it to me. I hated her for saying it to others who cried over it. I hated her for being the trash that tries to strictly control access to our community's most vital methods of dysphoria reduction.
I really do want you to understand that you aren't doing anything really wrong with me. You're doing the best with what you've got. The situation is just kinda fucked. There's a whole lot I need to sift through and I'm not fully convinced that any singular therapist can help me with it all. But rn... My options aren't very expansive and I'd rather not go searching when I could be making small amounts of progress. And yeah I do feel like the progress is still THERE. It's definitely happening more slowly but it's there. Idk what there really is to do in order to speed it up or if there even is anything. Maybe I need a break? I don't know. My brain seems to want to do more fun stuff than productive stuff rn. And like idk. It's weird for me. I never really got into the habit of doing productive stuff. For a good long while there was no action I could take that could truly be productive beyond basic survival. And I was never taught a good many skills most people learn young. I was very VERY fortunate my granny taught me to cook. She taught me the basics and how to eyeball measurements and all that and luckily cooking was something I started to enjoy. Especially making weird stuff. I made this chicken dish several times as a teenager. Basically came of a misunderstanding over the phone between me and my granny. I ended up using a seasoning mix my mom used called "Nature's Seasons." And putting that into some flour, and like putting a fuck ton I mean of that seasoning, and putting some water in it until it was the consistency of runnyish pancake batter. Like, will pour but not super quickly and some will be left behind to scrape out but ultimately you won't have to scrape out the majority. Cut potatoes into irregular fry shapes (like triangles and cubes and thin slices all at once.),put them in a greased pan to about 1/2 - 3/4 of the way up, parted them and put two to three seasoned chicken thighs (bone in) nested into the potatoes and poured the flour, water, sesoning mixture over it and let it bake for about an hour or two (I can't remember how long it took but it was a full pan of raw food so it took a long ass time) at like 375 - 400 degrees and then after I was certain everything was fully cooked through, I would turn it onto broil at 450 and let it set in there for 10 minutes and it'd get nice and crispy and it was FUCKING GOOD. Also forgot to mention to season the potatoes because it tastes way better if you do.
I figured it out. The first time I was intially trying to make something else but when it became clear it wouldn't work, I switched it to something else and it worked and it became really good. I made that like twice a month or more and ate on it for a few days. My parents actually started asking what I was making because it smelled good and they were like "Why has the oven been on for like 11 years?" Which, yeah, fair question. And I let them try it and my granny and they all liked it. It doesn't LOOK appetizing at first. It actually looks gross af. But it's goooooodddd. That last ten minutes makes it look way better though. Crisps it up. Especially the chicken skin.
Idk why I just got onto a tangent about cooking but I said what I said.
I really... I do want to make sure I make it clear though that... I don't really blame you for any of this and actually appreciate what you've done. Just sometimes I feel trapped (and this has happened before) because no one seems to know what the fuck they/them pronouns are. And hell, you still fuck that up sometimes but I can see the effort. The effort is what matters to me. Btw that's not a value judgement. Sara fucked it up sometimes too. Until the very last appointment. But she kept trying. And so did you. That's like the one thing you have in common with her, lol. But yeah, that's something people are gonna fuck up but I can't babysit a therapist and correct them every time they use pronouns for me because magically in the span of five minutes they've forgotten that my pronouns are they/them. There's a difference between you or Sara accidentally using a binary pronoun set for me or someone else who uses they/them like once every few times we see each other. But when it happens mutliple times in every session? That's pretty blatant. They're not trying. And at that point, I cannot trust them. If they cannot self-regulate their use of pronouns, how tf can I trust that they're keeping aware of any other aspect of my recovery? And that's something I do think you struggle with sometimes. There are many layers to me and remembering more than like three of them can be pretty daunting. But I do believe you're giving it your best go. And I'm not just giving you BS credit here. Sara forgot things a lot too. She eventually just said "Please just tell me because my brain isn't cooperating." And she wouldn't apologize. Because she'd done nothing wrong. She would just calmly and patiently direct me on what she needed from me in order to move forward. I don't expect you to remember everything. But please ask directly if you have even the slightest doubt. And yes, often that will frustrate me. But you know why I didn't get like that with Sara? She made it very clear in a very concise way that she just couldn't remember. I don't expect you to just be Sara. That will never happen. But I think there are some skills she's learned that could be useful to you. Just ask. I don't need to know that you're sorry. I know you are without you telling me.
Sara and I came to that understanding fairly early but I think it's because we had this weird mind meld ability to read each other. Like absolutely a fuckin trip because she'd call me out and I'd be like "Damn you're good. Holy shit." And then I'd interpret something in my head and then it'd get brought up in verbal communication and she'd just look at me and be like "How did you know that?" And I explained my reasoning and she would look impressed for a split second before turning away and looking at her computer for a moment and (probably questioning all her skills at hiding her emotions she's ever learned in her life) and do something for a moment. She really met her match with me lol. We're both tough nuts to crack lol. But we cracked each other wide open. And wow the more I say this the more it sounds like sex puns oh god no. Anyway. We can read each other really well, I think partly because we have similar ways of thinking about things. And idk. That helps a LOT.
She did her part though. She got me motivated and mommed me into doing rhings like cleaning. Told me she was proud of me whenever I did something I needed to. Okay, not every time. But it was nice to know that someone was proud of my progress. That there was someone looking at me fumble through life and thinking "God, look at them. They're like a baby but I know why it's like that and I am so proud of them for learning now. Look at them go." and she eventually got me semi-stable and that's when some of the trauma started to come into play and she knew that wasn't something she was equipper to help me with. So she sent me over to you. And that was a wise decision on her part. And I think you've helped me a lot. I'm just... Not sure what my options are moving forward. idk. I'll write more later.
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