#and look where that got you simon!

[bcwblade]

what tragic greek figure are you?

Odysseus.

you are that which men dream to be: strong, courageous, and noble, with more intelligence than you know what to do with. and, like all men, you do not account for your overabundance of pride. you long for your name to be wrapped in glory and honor, and your journey home is only made longer by your search for fights to win and monsters to trick.

tagged by: no one, i think? it was too long ago

tagging: @austerulous @vulpesse @yellowfingcr @yeleltaan @of-forossa @goodhunting and anyone who’s feeling it!

[bertoyana]

something something when your best friend, your wife, and your daughter take the killing shot that was meant for you

X-Men: First Class | X-Men: Apocalypse

[r0semultiverse]

well, this all looks rather familiar...

[ghostaholics]

no but ghost with a guardian angel who’s been protecting him all this time, and the only reason why he can see her now is because she lost her wings and was expelled from heaven for falling in love with him

it's the golden rule: don't harbor romantic feelings for your human charge

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

the first of them had two natures. doubled, mirrored, inexplicably connected to one another. on one side, a plague. infected with paranoia, with hubris, with arrogance. a plague that poisoned all who came into contact until only he was left, untouched by the rot around him. on the other, a crusader. born of blood and battle and brutality, hefting a blade that none were able (or willing) to touch. a conqueror. a false memory of a white knight. and the first rode in on a white horse, bearing the name pestilence conquest - price.

the second was a fighter to his core. wanting nothing more than to tear through the world, bringing with him the fires of judgement. sulfur and ash in his wake. unwilling and unable to accept inaction. the take the gloves off and fight. cry havoc and release the hounds. a blade, shining in the light of day. a gun, bathed in darkness. and the second rode in on a red horse, bearing the name war - gaz.

the third was a starving dog, snapping his frothing maw. gnawing at sun bleached bones, wanting to crack the calcium and suck the marrow dry. hungry, hungry, always hungry. starved for knowledge. starved for attention. starved for recognition. hungry for justice - revenge. hungry for victory - vengeance. hungry, hungry, hungry for more. and the third rode in on a black horse, bearing the name famine - soap.

the fourth was relentless. a force of nature. the inevitable end of all things. the last chapter, the whimper and the bang. the bringer of closure, wearing the mantle of a reaper. bearing the bones of his sins and the chains of his past. neither evil nor good - simply entropy. the only thing certain in this world. he comes for everything in the end. and the fourth rode in on a pale horse, bearing the name death - ghost.

[p2iimon]

drawing more furry fnaf art. yknow just to keep you posted. i love posting in the tags sorry these ones got away from me

[feenmies]

Ask game uh. Idk these either. What's your top 3 favourite simarkus moments. Go

leto you can't ask me this and expect me not to write an essaANYWAY.

number one best simarkus moment known to man is the like 20 second hug in freedom march where you can hardly see what's going on because they're just so.. so fucking tender dude.... SO tender.... simon's little nod... markus' tiny pats.... they r so in love i hate it

compatible hearts scene would be first if that hug scene wasn't so good. but probably the first scene in the game i sat down and tried to dissect in a fit of homosex it drove me Crazy like.... is it gay to hold your boy best friend's wrist. is it gay to gently caress your boy best friend's chest. is it gay to hold your boy best friend's hand while he shuts down and dies. i think so.

also that scene in battle for detroit (seeing a pattern with where all the gayass scenes are. interesting) where simon gets shot and the moment he gets saved he goes on some homosexual monologue about how his life wasn't worth saving in comparison to everyone else's and yet his relationship with markus goes up tremendously anyway. yeah. i know what you are simon. i know what you are.

[hungersauce]

i joked about simon plural but i feel like if i think about it for more than like five minutes we may very well split one

[katyahina]

the unholy amount of details in your art is impressive :o how do you keep it up? are your eyes ok? is there a secret? are you a wizard? im just jealous bc i have eyesight issues lmao

Oh, well, this is hard to explain actually... The main reason is that Bloodborne has very detailed designs as is, and my brain will not let me rest well at nights until I got every little thing JUST right! xD It takes a lot of time to ensure I got details right, but that's just how I roll.

So yeah, my secret is just perfectionism </3 I presume you sent anon after that Rom drawing display or so? She has many branches with glowbuds on them and is COVERED in eyes and has grass at the tips of her tails, so I was just... repeating this. In drawings, I tend to appreciate every single detail about character there is, no matter how minor or at times maybe not very pretty. I also have this WIP with the faces of like 130-something Bloodborne characters' faces drawn that started as self-reference - and I try to factor every face "imperfection" they have (if shown in canon) or add some fitting ones (if never shown).

And I do not know how alright my eyes are? I've got strange eye issue back in early 2020, weird 'grey' spots in my eyes around which details ALSO 'distort' - it was very hard to read through this at first, plus I still see some numbers and letters wrong (usually numbers next to each other switching places and I realize too late). Doctor outright said there was irreversable damage by some infection that 'burned' places in my retinas and that it "isn't clear whether you go blind in 2 months of 2 years or in 20 years or never". Well... Clearly, 2 months and 2 years predictions failed yet, so hopefully there will be other 18 years. x)

It is very hard to explain what exactly I did, but I was training myself to tilt my head in a specific way to still see the details I needed, and over time I could more or less look through these 'spots' - as you've noticed, detalization in my drawings didn't suffer! The spots are more blurried than grey either now... Either 1) the 'irreversable' was doctor's mistake or...... 2) I was blessed with eyes but OUTSIDE of my brain to draw my stuff, LOL!

[themyscirah]

Does anyone know if there was simonjess crumbs in the justice league book at the time or is it like just in their solo (meaning I need to reread that book again which I was already planning on doing but like still)

[absentlyabbie]

on the cat post: barn cat thoughts?

i understand the rationale and practical applications, and i grind my teeth about it less if they're at least spayed/neutered and given proper, regular vet care, but if that cat is just allowed/able to wander freely it's gonna have a shitty and likely very short life, on top of the negative impact it will have on the local environment beyond the barn's pest control issue.

i'm in no way an expert, but it's hard to imagine there's not some alternative that, while it may not seem cheaper, doesn't cost a life.

[gouldblogger]

Pictures of some concerts by the Italian musical group Nuova Compagnia di Canto Popolare (trans. The New Company of Folk Song) in 1975

[readwritealldayallnight]

“Since you’re always stealing my water bottle, I got you your own. Look, even got it in your favourite colour!” You announce proudly, setting his new bottle down on the counter.

“S’not my favourite…” he murmurs barely loud enough for you to hear, almost like he doesn’t realize he’s saying it aloud.

“What’s that, Si?”

“Black’s not my favourite colour.” He replies more steadily this time, surprising you with his answer.

“Oh. Really?” You clarify, to which he gives you a single curt nod. “I just thought- I mean everything you wear is black.”

“S’true.” He agrees, tilting his head to one side, as though he’s considering this for the first time himself. “Never really thought ‘bout it, but suppose it was, ‘til recently.”

“Why? What’s your favourite colour now?” You ask, curious to know what changed for him to have a new favourite colour all of a sudden.

Simon comes around closer to where you’re standing, leaning down enough to be face to face, gazing straight into your eyes as he holds a single finger up and points towards your eyes saying:

“Those right there, love. Most beautiful colour there is.”

“Also I’m probably still jus’ gonna drink from your bottle.”

“Simon, NO.”

[maskedbyghost]

when simon wakes up in a hospital, the last thing you expect is for him to grab your hand, pull you close, and say, “hey, there you are, love.” his voice is so soft, so sure, it leaves you speechless. you stare at him, half in shock, because this is ghost—simon riley, the one person who’s kept every feeling locked up.

“simon, do you… do you remember anything?” you ask, testing the waters.

he blinks, looking at you with confidence. “of course, i remember. you’re my wife.”

you freeze. his wife? this is new, and you’re not sure where he got the idea, but before you can correct him, johnny walks in, taking one look at the two of you and biting back a grin. he leans in, whispering to you, “maybe just… go with it for now, eh?” he’s got that teasing glint in his eye, and something tells you there’s no harm in humoring simon for a bit, if it can be helpful for his recovery.

so, you go along with it. and to your surprise, simon doesn’t act confused—in fact, he’s more open with you than he’s ever been. suddenly, he’s holding your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, always looking for you, keeping you close, calling you “love” or “darlin’” in front of everyone. he’s even got that soft smile every time you catch his eye, one that makes it hard to remember this isn’t real.

the team’s amused but supportive, playing along with the whole story. simon keeps asking you little things, like what your favorite meal is, or how you usually spend your days when he’s away, as if filling in gaps in a life he believes you share. you find yourself answering with things that feel so genuine, and the way he listens—focused, attentive—feels more intimate than anything you’ve shared before.

one day, you’re patching up a minor scrape on his hand, and he just watches you, eyes soft, like he’s memorizing every detail. “i don’t know what i’d do without you,” he murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. it’s so genuine, so open, that for a second, you forget it’s all just part of his memory loss.

then, one night, he pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours, eyes serious. “do you ever think about us?” he asks softly, like he’s trying to get at something just out of reach. “how we’d be if things were… different?”

you’re not sure how to answer because there’s no script for this. “sometimes,” you admit, feeling a pang of something deep and unspoken. and for the first time, you’re almost grateful he can’t remember—because maybe, just maybe, it’s the only reason he’s letting himself be this vulnerable with you.

as the days pass, you start catching little glimpses, small things that make you wonder if he knows more than he’s letting on. he catches you watching him once, and instead of asking why, he just gives you this little smile, one that feels like he’s in on the secret. and just when you’re starting to think this is all some kind of twisted dream, he pulls you aside.

“i know i’m supposed to remember,” he whispers, “but i don’t want this to end. not yet.”

it’s in that moment you realize the truth. he’s been aware all along—he’s been pretending just as much as you, holding on to this fragile, temporary illusion because, maybe, he needs it just as much as you do.

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hii!! i'm backkk!! send some requests plsss, byee <333

@daydreamerwoah @spicyspicyliving

[whateveriwant]

I know I’ve already gone on and on about what it’s like to have a size difference with Simon Riley, but I’m sorry, I just will never get over how big and strong this man is.

Like I feel like sometimes his size gets lost on us since he’s surrounded by other tall, buff military guys all the time. But y’all, I’m telling you, this man is big. Like 6’4, 250+ pounds, big enough to eclipse the sun big.

With a man that big, it honestly doesn’t even matter what size you are because he’s always going to be bigger and stronger than you anyway. You can be tall, short, stocky, thin, whatever, and this man is still fully capable (and willing? 👀) of snapping you in half like a twig.

Are you worried about potential home invaders? Well, you shouldn’t be. One quick flick of his wrist and he’s breaking the neck of anyone who tries to threaten you. Did you accidentally lock yourself out of the house? Well, don’t bother calling a locksmith. There’s no lock left to pick after he’s just caved the door in with his foot. Do you have a really stubborn jar you’re struggling to open? Well, hand it over, love. He can crack that sucker open in half a second flat.

But Lord, don’t even get me started when it comes to all the ways Simon uses that strength of his in the bedroom.

Like when he tells you to sit on his face so he can eat you out. Don’t even try it with that nervous, hovering, “I’m too heavy, Si,” bullshit. You better sit your ass down right when and where he tells you to or he’ll hold you down by the hips until he’s had his fill.

Or when, after a night of heavy flirting and teasing, he’s got that look in his eye as he corners you against your entryway wall. Don’t be surprised when one moment your feet are firmly planted on the ground, and the next you’re lifted into the air, your legs slung over his arms as he drills into you like you’re his own little fuck puppet.

Or when he’s got you spread out on his bed, got your knees up by your ears, got the backs of your thighs burning in a way that’s matched only by how your walls have to stretch to take his thick cock. Don’t think he’s being mean or malicious when he sees your eyes well with tears but does nothing to change the way he’s fucking down into you. It’s not that Simon doesn’t care whenever you cry and quiver and plead with him to go easier on you, it’s that he knows the truth. He knows that, deep down, you love when he handles you like he isn’t afraid to break you.

[euno11a]

it is proven that majority of women can’t orgasm from intercourse alone. So imagine reader who can’t make herself cum, no matter how she touches her swollen little bud.

it’s becoming more annoying as you keep trying, different speeds, pressures, and angles, but nothing seems to work for you! It’s gotten to the point where you’ve quite frankly given up on even touching yourself. You’ve tried for so long, yet always get nothing.

so imagine telling Simon when he asks you, oh so kindly when on deployment, to touch yourself with him to make you both feel good. The silence over the phone when you say you can’t.

“What?”

“I just can’t. I’ve tried, but it just doesn’t work for me.”

“‘Ave ya-?”

“I’ve done everything, Simon! I can’t, okay?”

it was clear that this was something that you weren’t comfortable with talking about. It made you upset that you didn’t “function correctly” like other women. So the night Simon came home, he greeted you with a soft kiss. There wasn’t any harsh underlying emotion, just soft and sweet love. His large and calloused hands would cup your cheeks and look at your eyes, watching the slight confusion slip into your gaze.

now laying against his sturdier chest, looking at yourself in the mirror with him behind you, you knew what was happening. He gently pulled down your sleeping pants, taking his time to let his fingertips brush against every inch of your thighs, all the way down to your ankles. And soon enough, off came your panties too. He started by admiring the slight glistening of your slick right by your entrance, using his fingers to gently dip into the fluid that he loved. Dragging his fingers upwards, he brought his fingertips to the side of your clit, letting your slick be the lube for his fingers.

Simon looked at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact as his fingers pressed onto your clit. The gasp that left your lips was sudden, almost reaching down to grab his wrist, but stopping when he gave you a stern warning look. Everything felt different - his touch felt electrifying, while yours felt like watching paint dry. Why was it so different? Your eyes fluttered shut, head resting on his shoulder when he started speeding up his small circular motion. Your thighs spread a little more, shuddering when you felt a build up in your lower tummy. That burn you never felt unless you used a toy, the burn you got before you were clouded with euphoria; it was coming. You let out small squeaks and whimpers as your hips lifted and you came undone. Usually that’s when you’d stop, let your body just relax, but Simon kept a firm hand across your torso, using his leg to keep yours pinned down so he could still rub you till complete satisfaction.

once his movements slowed and he was panting along with you slightly, he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, looking at your eyes through the mirror again.

“I don’t care what time of day it is, if ye need t’cum, y’tell me and I’ll help, love. Alrigh’?”

you mustered a small nod, droopy eyes falling to the wet and sticky mess between your thighs, and the lovely hands that helped you along the way.