#non-binary simon

[beastwhimsy]

this would happen

[sky-is-the-limit]

I'm a Gazhoe, Gazslut, Gazwhore.

Gaz nation ain't enough anymore, I need to be put down permanently. Or be his personal sperm bank idk.

(2nd is art by @ave661)

[lake-cosay]

greetings queers i have headcanons

[xxfaggatronxx]

Mmmmmm Price-

But this time it’s Father’s Day related.

(Update: felt there wasn’t enough Gaz, so I added a few more blurbs of text.)

Price had a semi-normal upbringing. His parents were strict Catholics, everyone was hetero, cis, and white. He was always a little nervous talking about Father’s Day with his team though, as no one else had a Dad, or at least a good one, in Simon’s case.

Johnny’s dad walked out on them, the Scot growling whenever someone asked, but then he would proudly go on about how he helped his six younger sisters and what they were all doing now, or blab about how he didn’t need a father, he was the man of the household. But Price sometimes saw the hurt in his eyes, how Johnny would never talk about why his dad left. He explained one night, after a few beers, that he came out as transgender, female to male, and his sisters soon came out afterwards, seeing that their mother was accepting.

Johnny blamed himself for their father leaving, as the man was homophobic and transphobic, it seemed.

Simon’s father was a work all on its own; a druggie with a want for living in the past, ignoring the needs of his children just to get another quick fix, achieve a high that was as impossible as touching the stars with both feet planted firmly on the ground. Simon wasn’t closed off about this, gruffly and almost openly talking about their experiences with their shit father, how the man had turned its younger brother against them, made their job seem like it was criminal and bloodthirsty. Sometimes, if they were in the right mood, with a book in their hands and the worn baclava, it would quietly talk about their deceased nephew, Joseph.

How they would help the boy make Father’s Day cards. And near invisible tears would fill its eyes as they explained the first time Joseph was old enough to make a card on his own, he gave it to Simon instead of his father. No one mentioned how that same card was framed in their office.

Kyle. Kyle, Kyle, Kyle. Kyle didn’t have a father. Well, he did, but his father was a literal sperm donor. He was raised by his two moms, lovely women who had come to drop off brownies and other treats, how they found the secretive 141 base made Price turn to Kyle, who blushed when he asked, making a meek noise. “…My Mums track my phone,” Price was amused, his sergeant who dealt with life-or-death situations, was timid when it came to his Mums, and it was no wonder, as it seemed they put the Fear of God in that boy whenever he was slightly rude to anyone.

Price had asked about his father one time, trying to seek someone who had one, and Kyle’s nose had wrinkled, confusing Price. He had talked about two parents. The sergeant had laughed: “Mate, I grew up with my Mums, not a bloke in sight,” Price was immediately shot down, apparently having the only Non-shitty, present father figure in his life.

Gaz being anxious around two of Price’s other favorites, a certain….. couple. A couple who was looking for a third. Farah and Alex. Price could see the way Kyle near fell over his own feet in his haste to get either of their attentions, Price…. Nudging him along sometimes. Giving him pep-talks and little quizzes.

“Just talk to them! Remember, Alex likes….”

Gaz would pipe up. “Specifically rainbow-dyed Daisies, the band Green Day and Nirvana or anything considered Classic Rock, but he prefers to call it just Rock, and he takes his favorite drink, green tea, with four sugars and a spoon of cream, with Jaffa cakes!”

“Good. Farah prefers…”

Gaz would smirk, and expert in this particular subject, as he and Farah were so similar. “Farah likes daffodils, any Lofi hip-hop station, but she likes the one where the girl is writing in a book and an orange cat is on the windowsill, and she only drinks espresso on Thursdays, every other day is raspberry tea, nothing else.”

“Atta boy! Now…. Do you want a smoke?” And Kyle, he would smile at the fact Price shared his very expensive, Cuban cigars with just him. They would both watch a game of Futbol, new or old, and yell profanities at the opposing team until Soap, drowsy and pissed that they were screaming at two in the morning, with his partner Simon sleepily holding his hand, would yell. “Stop yelling at the damn box! Some of us sleep, ye ken?!”

Price fixed his boys’ views on fathers, and Father’s Day.

Fixing everyone tea in the mornings, coffee for a certain Scot who grimaced at the ‘Warm Leaf Water’ served to him. It also included going out for brunch, taking the boys to a brunch at Waffle House, Kyle grinning and going on about the waffles, and Simon who would order their single cup of coffee and too much creamer as Kyle looked on in horror at the lack of waffles. Then there was Johnny, who would steal bites from Kyle’s plate, even with his own breakfast. Price would end up apologizing to the waiter, at the end of it all, leaving a big tip.

What with Simon’s near refusal to speak to strangers, Price would order for them as they glared at the poor Waffle House server, Johnny changing the song on the old jukebox in the corner to anything Scottish, making the Brits in the Manchester Waffle House curl their lips in annoyance, to Kyle’s oddly specific order about how he wanted the eggs done a certain way and the amount of sugar in the waffles and how they needed to use oat milk in the waffle and-

“Sorry my boys are being so rowdy,” Price had sighed one day, and Kyle and Johnny had beamed, Simon blinking in surprise. Price brushed it off.

Price got used to leaving fifty dollar tips.

Then there was shopping. Simon liked the clothes at Hot Topic and Spencer’s the best, as it was mostly black. Kyle and Johnny could also find shirts they liked there too. Sometimes it was chaos, Johnny trying on the most outrageous outfits, asking if the thong he was modeling looked good or made his ass look fat, always joking. Kyle would wolf whistle and Simon would grip their knees with wide eyes, Price sighing and shaking his head.

Kyle would then follow after Johnny, putting on the crop tops and near panty-like shorts, asking if he looked gay, as Kyle himself was bisexual. Johnny would howl with laughter, “Not gay enough! I can’t see your dick-print, lose the underwear!” Simon looked horrified and would blush as people turned to stare in the dressing rooms.

Often times, Simon would follow after Price, dead eyed stare and built like a brick shithouse, and Price would have to ask for double XL shirts for his…

“Excuse me, do you have any XXL shirts? It’s for my… kid,” Price settled so it wasn’t as awkward for the employee. He didn’t notice Simon stiffen, and the employee walked away to find the requested shirt in the required size. Price turned and noticed their stared, grumbling about how they acted like kids anyways, so he might as well address them as such. He saw Simon tear up and quickly wipe their tears away, and could see a faint smile beneath their mask.

Johnny took the most of these to heart, and it wasn’t long until Price sought Johnny out, hearing soft sniffling from his room. “Son, you alright in there?” Price asked with a gentle voice each time, knowing exactly what was wrong, what was happening behind the closed door. Price would open the door, seeing Johnny in his boxers, binder off and too-big shirt, that was most definitely one of Simon’s, draped over his form.

“It’s stupid, Sir, I ken it’s just mah’ head and dumb hormones…” Johnny would mutter with grit teeth, testosterone bottle and a needle in hand, the syringe not even filled. It was a weekly dance, every Saturday like clockwork, if it could be helped. Sometimes missions got in the way though, and it was now three weeks deep, and Johnny hadn’t had his shot.

Price sat beside him, rubbing his back until Johnny handed over the needle. And they would go through the motions. He would insert the needle into the vial and draw up the thick, syrupy medication. Flick the end to get the air bubbles out, then pinch, insert, press, remove, massage. Then it was about reassuring and making sure Johnny was in a good headspace, letting him know that the team didn’t care about his body, only that he was happy.

And on Father’s Day, if he took after Simon and hung up the three handmade cards in his office, proudly displayed for all to see: rookies and bosses alike, who cared? Specially if all of them said:

‘To the Best Father I’ve had,’ From Simon

‘For my Dad,’ From John

‘To my Third Parent,’ From Kyle

[eternal-moss]

When people continually whitewash my favourite characters.

[ID: A black and white, rough digital drawing of someone sitting at a desk and clutching their head in their hands. End ID.]

^thank you @describe-things

[danobaggins]

they're actually the first T4T couple in the history of television if you even care

[dancingcatsta]

HIYAAAAAA Just wanna pop in here cuz Rasta and Thor being pretty princesses off the pitch and also at home is so right of you and now I’m going insane/j

Cuz Rasta seems the type to love self care days (not to El Matador’s extreme tho) and often does it alone or with his spouse cuz as much as he loves the guys and the fans, he needs his well-deserved break

Thor however has to go through Batman levels of security checks to make sure that not a peep of his extracurriculars make it out to his team or the public cuz he’s supposed to be training on and off the pitch like bruh let my man wear his rose water face mask and listen to yoga music like he’s not hurting anyone (AHEMAHEMCrunchAHEMAHEM)

Also a fandom question if you wanna answer: Favourite SS Headcanon? It can also be multiple if you like!

-S Stan

Hello! I’m currently on the train back home and it’s going to be a long journey. Your ask made my evening. Thank you so much!

Dancing Rasta is a though man and we’ve excepted it many times. He’s harsh and he shouts experienced it many times. Just like a captain would. He’s too hard on his team sometimes and I think he’s just anxious about something not going the way he wants. I believe he is just simply afraid of things getting out of hand and when they do, everything happens just like in „Training Daze.”

I believe Rasta does love having self care days but it definitely took a lot of effort, both from his spouse and him. I think it actually could have taken even years for him to feel like he deserves to take care of himself! It’s not always a SPA day. Sometimes he is in the need of undoing his locs or maybe just mosturize his skin.

In my mind, you’re correct. He loves to have a good self-care day with his loved one, although it took a lot of effort too. He still don’t feel always comfortable while doing it. Dancing Rasta is an extremely awkward man with such an awkward energy. Sometimes he needs to be completely on his own and his spouse respects it too.

About Thor: Yes, until he’s done with the research, he won’t feel comfortable taking care of himself around his significant other. He is afraid of people judging him and it will take a lot of time for him to open up.

Time for questions? Time for questions! So here’s 13 of my favourite headcanons. Keep in mind? I love hurt/comfort.

Von Push Up has three daughters and eleven men-children

Rasta is insomniac with caffeine addiction even though he won’t admit it

Thor calls Rasta sometimes so does Uber. He is relatively close with the Tanks and every time Coach and Von Push Up talk, the other always ask him about DR

Thor uses „Noir de Noir” by Tom Ford

Dancing Rasta feels homesick even if he never talks about that. Once he retires, he’d live in his beloved Swiss Alps until the end of his days

„To be love is to be accepted” is Skarra. „To be love is to be considered” is Klaus. „To be loved is to be known” is Shakes. „To be loved is to be seen” is Thor. „To be loved is to be listened to” is Rasta.

„If life is a never ending loop of dirty dishes and laundry then that means life is a never ending loop of home cooked meals and comfy clean clothes” - makes me always think of Thor. I think of him warmly and I think sometimes he daydreams of having a safe space where he could safely spend his retirement, maybe by assembling models and solving puzzles; He wants to heal from the War Trauma and someone to drink tea with.

„Personalize everything or die with nothing to your name” Somehow reminds me of Dancing Rasta. He is the kind of person who wears knitted Bob Marley keychain with his keys. He wears colorful gems bracelets. All of his backpacks, tote bags are full of enamel pins and plush keychains. If something is owned by DR, it is known by everyone.

„No Surprises” by Radiohead is the Rasta Song for me. All he wants is peace, the inner peace too. He wants to take care of his garden, bake his pastries. Tender love, hand to hand. To have someone who could just accept his solitude but still be there.

Rasta is a high-functioning person on autism spectrum. I’d believe you faster if you told me Hydra’s trio is not a polycue than DR is completely neurotypical. He finds it difficult to regulate his body temperature and once the season ends, he goes completely non-verbal.

Dancing Rasta hates physical contact. He is never the one to initiate it, unless a teammate needs it really bad. If someone acts too loud, move to fast, raise their hand, Dancing Rasta is going to flinch. Always.

Acts of intimacy (not nfsw) for Thor

Puzzle putting

Forehead kisses

Models assembling together

Have a dinner date

SPA day

If their S/O is lucky enough, he’s going to let them put not only a face/lip mask on but also a whole face makeup/paint his nails

Acts of intimacy (Dancing Rasta)

It’s hard to be intimate with someone who is scared both of physical and emotional intimacy. After years of being together, his spouse just accepted it

Picking and putting his jewelry on

Gently brushing and washing his hair: touching Dancing Rasta’s hair is the highest form of intimacy between him and his partner. Only they are allowed of doing it and not always. For Rastas, their hair is something very important.

The last one, one of the most rare and most wanted ones - bathing together. Preparing him a bath.

[britishtophatwithlondon]

Hehehe,Simon Raveson's evolution!(James Raveson's brother)

(He/Them)

[insiemes]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56024617

Roads Lead Back to You

Three weeks after he woke up in the hospital, he found himself in a nightclub.

He wasn’t really sure what motivated him to enter the club, and if someone asked him he wouldn’t have an answer. He’d been walking by and the music, the lights and the strong beat of the bass had pulled him in like a wave to shore, like a magnet was drawing him close. The club, something seedy and dark, had no bouncer. He didn’t think too long about what that said about the establishment, instead thanking small victories. He’d walked inside no problem, no one telling him to leave and no one asking him his name. For that he was grateful, for if he’d been asked to show any piece of ID he wouldn’t have been able to provide it.

He had no idea who he was.

or

Simon Eriksson wakes up from a coma after six months, with no idea who he was in his past life.

[sagealexander]

Dust Magzine July 2024 / Ned Sims

By Adam Peter Johnson

https://dustmagazine.com/

[lakeadora]

I am so fucking neurodivergent that during my breakup and the process of grappling with it to myself days prior I made about a million Petrigrof and Hamilton references that I said to my ex boyfriend’s face “you were a wonderful experience” and he knew the context. Our relationship was too upsettingly similar to Simon and Betty that I couldn’t help myself.

[oohbrother]

simon and betty are sooooo t4t lesbians

[xxfaggatronxx]

A bit of angst warning ‼️

I want Ghoap content but in an angsty, healing way after Johnny got shot, but…

Realistically.

I want the journey of Johnny waking up only to find his speech stuttered and hearing practically gone, Simon desperate to communicate, Johnny taking it in stride, if he can’t use his mouth, he’ll use his hands.

Learning BSL like he was born for it, and if he gets a little too animated, he reverts back to military hand signals. Simple words change until he can mutter or speak a little more, but he can’t fully recover. It hurts Simon the most that he can’t call into their house and have Johnny come tumbling out of their room like an overeager puppy to greet them.

Months of therapy and yet Soap can only mutter stuttered, soft words. It takes three years before Soap grunts one morning “Bonn-ie yoo a-wa—ke?”

Simon shoots up and Johnny looks surprised too, but he just grins and signs sadly ‘*Dunno if I can do that again soon, love,*’ Simon nods, and its only a few days later when he finds out Johnny was practicing his name, a stuttered “Si-mo—n,” as Johnny smiles and Simon tears up. ‘*I told you I would practice,*’ he signs.

I want the doctor to ask him to wriggle the toes in his left leg, and have the description of his face falling and Simon’s eyes widen some more: more problems to deal with, to live with, to overcome. Johnny refusing to have his left leg removed, the right one already in a brace from a previous injury. Simon pleads him to at least get a wheelchair, and he does.

Stuttered, scratchy, raspy cackles as he uses his arms to race through the hallways, pushing the wheels to see how fast and far he can go… until Simon races after him, a smiling yet scolding tone as they wheels Johnny back to his hospital room, even athoughs he pouts and his hands fly up in messy signs.

“Runnin’ from me, Johnny?”

‘*Wouldn’t have to if let leave*’ The Scot’s fingers a blur.

A few weeks later crutches become the more permanent option, and Soap limps around with a big grin on his face, acting like a cat as he bats at Gaz’s ankles with the end of a crutch. Teasingly taps Simon’s ass with the end of the pole until the Lieutenant, smiling and teasing, threatens to take them away.

He knocks Price’s papers off the table, getting a scowl, and then a small chuckle from the older man who mutters: ‘Gettin’ too good at using those, considered a weapon in your hands, MacTavish,”

I want Johnny waking up…. Different. Same Johnny, thank god, remembers them, but he forgot things. Some important things. What was he doing in the train tunnel?

‘On a mission’ Johnny scrawls with shaking hands

What was the goal of the mission? Johnny pauses and thinks, but the doctor shushes him, and leaves Johnny and Simon alone. Two weeks later, Johnny signs ‘Who’ and the sign for a question. Gaz is sitting with him, Price too. Simon was out getting lunch.

“Who what, mate?” Gaz asks, confused.

‘Who’ Johnny gives a questioning look, then makes the sign a moment later. Price frowns with Gaz, and Johnny looks frustrated, signing ‘who’ a couple more times, and pointing to his head.

“Oh… who shot you?” Price is quiet when Gaz speaks. Johnny nods, then does the sign. It was painful, reminding Johnny of Makarov. He had also forgotten who Laswell, Graves, and a few other people in his life were. He had even forgot that Price was his boss, had forgotten he had tattoos, forgotten he had been called ‘Soap’ once. He remembered serving, but not much else on the SAS track. He never really got his memory back, but he remembered the little things.

He even remembered Simon liked baby’s breath flowers. Johnny being wheeled past a window and making a loud ‘AH!’ Noise, waving his hand to get Simon’s attention as he clumsily pointed with a smile to the flowers outside. ‘*Your favorite*’ Johnny smiled, making Simon’s heart flutter.

And who cares if it’s five years down the line? When Johnny shows up to the award ceremony to promote Simon to Captain. He rolls in through the front doors, in a kilt and suit top. He stops his chair by the door, and Simon’s heart clenched: using the chair meant Johnny was having a really bad day with his legs.

And then he stands. No crutches, no wheels. Grinning as he limps up to Simon, their mouth open as their boyfriend limps forwards, and pins the new rank to his chest, smoothing his hand over their suit to wipe off the dust, then, wobbling, Johnny sinks to one knee, and speaks.

“Would-ould you ma-ke me the happ-iest m-man in the world-ld, and be my per-menen-t partner…,” Johnny paused and smiled, wobbling in his knee with happiness in his eyes, meeting Simon’s wide, disbelieving ones. “Simon…. Riley,” no stutter.

He really had been practicing.

[this--is-serious-business]

Baz 7th year: What is non-binary? Like if your gay your gay, why all these terms.

Baz 20: Yea this friend from uni uses they/them pronouns, it is proper grammar in vernacular English so I don’t fuss about it.

Baz 23: gender is fake and no one may refer to me ever

[makedonsgriva]

bringing back this non-binary! Baz fic in honour of pride month.

[kipskiptrip]

Rindo Kanade William Wisp trans in the same exact way I cannot explain it just accept it