#oh its the simon edition

[thanatoseyes]

I just bought the necronomicon.

[yi3248]

bonk

[wakinguponsaturday]

"I don't know where to begin in telling people what we've been up to. I suspect they won't believe me." "You've spent every moment not with me in your library, Gale. I suspect they'll believe you."

Bonus!

my first attempt at gifs! wows me to this day the number of details that I came up with during early access about Terragon than ended up fitting perfectly with Gale upon full release. and after years of dreaming up a happy ending for her, the epilogue got me a little emotional. if you're so inclined check out heylifeitsemily and waxing poetic, you and i

[lxvvie]

Couples Shit with Simon Riley, Stay at Home Missus Edition:

Simon Riley is a SAHM (stay-at-home missus). Yes, he's fine with it. Yes, you're fine with it. No, taking care of Beanie and the house is not bloody hard. Yes, he enjoys it, even when Beanie wakes him up at the asscrack of dawn to play Princess Daddy Bandit Heeler. No, it's not babysitting, it's called being her FATHER, and no, it's not emasculating what Simon does, it's called being a MISSUS and taking care of his family. What the fuck?

You and Simon are a team, a well-oiled machine playing the game of life on your own terms, and while what you do may not work for others, it works for you two and you're all the happier for it. Plus, it's adorable how much Beanie has Simon wrapped around her finger.

Simon's an organized fellow. Keeps a checklist of things to do around the house, things pertaining to Beanie, etc. Nothing he can't handle. He likes working with his hands.

And speaking of Beanie, she is your alarm clock. Once she's up, the whole house is up preparing for the day. You're usually sleepily trailing behind Simon into the kitchen. At the same time, Beanie sits comfortably on Simon's shoulders and lives her best Queen Bean life like she should, happily talking your ears off about everything on her mind.

Beanie turns getting ready for the day into a family affair, especially when she goes to nursery (she doesn't go all week, only a couple days to get her acclimated to a school setting and to socialize), and she wants to look her absolute best. You two help her get ready and all's well until you and Beanie decide that Daddy should be twinsies with his baby girl. Oh... bloody fuckin' hell. And so he does—matching shirts—and he's on official Princess Daddy Security duty.

Lunch? Already packed and ready to go. And like clockwork, you forget yours. And like clockwork, Simon has to drop it off to you after he drops Beanie off.

Though Simon in general doesn't have two fucks to give, he's all too aware of the stares he gets when he's with Beanie. Some wariness, a little bit of fear, and some... interest? When he drops her off at daycare, takes her to the playground, takes her on playdates with her friends, or is at the store getting groceries, he gets stares. What, they've never seen a man on Princess Daddy security duty before? The shock value and looks on their faces are worth it all, especially when Beanie is screaming-laughing "Daddy!" as Simon hoists her over his shoulders.

But if he isn't getting stares when he's out with Beanie, he gets stares from your co-workers. Your co-workers who STILL can't believe he's the missus. Your co-workers who can't believe he's the one who keeps the house while you work. You make it a point to kiss him every time he drops your lunch off, right in front of your co-workers, before staring at them pointedly. And Simon, your MISSUS, chuckles every time.

Grocery runs with Beanie is an adventure all its own. The Queen has to give her approval and it's his daughter's world after all. "What do you think, Beanie?" She contemplates a little before nodding and going, "That one!" 'cause Rileyland has to have the best food after all. And then they go to the bakery. They keep it a secret—"Pinky promise, Beanie." "Pinky promise!"—from you. Rileyland has to have the best sweets after all.

When you come home, you're greeted by the Queen Bean herself who's helping Daddy make dinner. Your usual greeting is to hug him from behind and just hold him. Your husband, your missus, the bedrock who gets shit done, and supports you and your daughter with everything in him. You couldn't ask for a better partner.

After a hearty dinner complete with Beanie talking about her day, cleaning up, packing your lunch for tomorrow, and taking your evening bath, you three usually wind up on the couch. Everyone is pilled on Simon and just... being. Relaxing. Well, you and Simon are relaxing and Beanie is fighting sleep and trying to convince you both to get a dog because her friends have dogs. Yeah. Just another day in the Riley household.

[skyburger]

okay the good news is i found the post its real i remembered it correctly and everything. a christmas miracle! the bad news is half an hour ago i was trying to get a screenshot of the post and it was a bit too long to get in one screenshot and i thought ughhhh i dont want to stitch together two screenshots. i have learned a lesson today and that is "don't use the full-screen screenshot on ios safari it's not even a fucking picture its a pdf you have to make INTO a png if you want to crop it and the full fucking image is so stupidly long (its a bit over 14 megabytes) it will be a hassle to crop and when you crop it oh its still gonna be like 1500 pixels wide so you think oh ill scale it down but if you scale it down in ibis the quality goes to shit even if i change the method and im Not manually dragging the corner to size it down and then cropping the canvas (this was a better idea i shouldve listened) so you have this low res screenshot of this post youve been trying to get for half an hour and after all that you think Oh my fucking god i shouldve just stitched two screenshots together."

anyway shoutsout to op of the post... hi 👋

does anyone have the post about someone convincing their friend (possibly op's boyfriend?) that there was a real matt damon movie with some dumbass name and they edited the cover of "the bourne identity" (see image #1) to have the fake title but all i can think of is "the turgle" but im pretty sure im mixing it up with the "who turgled" comic (see image #2). Help!!!!

[salemlinnet]

hey everyone!

a few news items right before we start up chapter 5. firstly i just wanna say thanks to everyone who follows my comics, it's been a pleasure as always. i've been keeping a longer buffer on patreon than usual, mostly for my mental health. publishing takes a lot of energy and i've really felt it necessary to just focus on production for a few weeks. at this point, patrons have seen most of chapter 5, there's only one more scene and about a page to be drawn. the quiet has been nice, i've caught up on a lot of house keeping, though i'm obviously very excited to present it! and on house keeping,

DOMESTICATED IS NOW LIVE AT IT'S NEW HOME!

to not go into the boring details (the old domain got trapped between to hosting sites in the middle of a buyout), it's not hosted at cod-domesticated.com (rip custom url you will be missed) it will instead be hosted at salemlinnet.com/domesticated (now you live at my house like you're my son why didn't i think of this sooner). if you find any errors in the pages i am so sorry i just formatted so many buttons TTuTT it would be super helpful to me if folks could report any specific buttons that don't work if it's convenient, it's been beta tested by the discord (thank you guys so much) but i'm just a dunce and i can't be trusted so there might be errors.

the simons are all wearing a little beret this chapter is my third point of business, i am losing it over the ghost beret. oh and the devil may care is up to chapter 18, will be chapter 19 within a few days. page 21 is out for patrons.

finally, to the people lurking for thistle and spade. i've wanted to say for some time, i'm really grateful that you've stuck around while i've been too sick to work on a bigger project. if you were here to see me start production for and then pull ghost #1, the story behind it is that i sort of suddenly learned i wouldn't always be as sick as i was, that i didn't have to rush anything, and that i could produce thistle and spade in chronological order with a bit of patience. that left me with no smaller project to draw and release in the mean time, except, see, i really like this game, call of duty. i was still on bed rest when i started domesticated, and with a ton of physical therapy i've been able to draw longer and longer hours. it's trained me up to be a better comic artist than i ever was before. it's grown into a sturdier project at the same pace. it's so unlike thistle and spade, whose chapters were written and edited over years and planned to every gesture and expression. i'm just winging it with domesticated, i'm usually rewriting massive swaths of dialogue as i sketch the scenes out, i just keep throwing out ideas until it's something i'm excited to draw and present as my imaginary "what happened outside of the games" day dream land. it's reminded me what i love so much about story telling and comics. it's made me excited to see thistle and spade go live again down the road. but first i have to rebuild its website too TTuTT

all right i'll see everyone pretty soon! thanks for hanging around as usual!

[velvetures]

Simon is def the type of boyfriend/ husband to adopt a big dog for your anniversary present (even though it's so self serving, he just wants you to have extra protection). He even puts a little bow on the pups collar when he's presenting you with the new edition to the family. (I can see him with a Belgian/ German shepherd, doberman or even a pit mix breed)

Good Boy

Oh my god, there is no way Simon isn't insisting his S/O doesn't have a dog once you've become an established couple.

I think the only difference I have from your HC is that he'd already have the pup trained and nearly at full size when he brings it home for the first time.

Naturally, he's got plenty of experience after having Riley for years. And spent a lot of time sneaking some of your dirty clothes out of the house to put in the dog's kennel while it's being trained. Accustomating it with your scent and connecting your smell with something that isn't used in training unless it's a drill relating your scent to an object needing protection.

Simon isn't particularly attached to the dog emotionally in the way you're going to be. But he's adamant that other than himself, you're the only other person who will know how to command the dog. It's a safety measure that you're going to be a little resistant to at first, but once he explains that it's so you're always safe -even when he's away- you understand that it's for the best. Simon wants a loyal protector for you, and he's not risking you for anything.

In addition to that, Simon really understands and employs "scary dog privilege" tactics often. Even using himself as the warden who follows you around in public and keeps too many eyes from lingering. The dog he brings home is most certainly intimidating, yet impossibly patient and gentle with you. It's designed that way though. Simon trained the pup to think of you as mom essentially, and his only role is to always protect mom.

When he brought your cane corso home, Simon had nothing but pride for the stoic and well-trained guard dog.

The only problem with this is, you're too damn loving for your own good.

Where Simon won't let the dog on the couch, you put your foot down and demand it gets to sleep at the foot of the bed where you can tuck your feet under it to keep warm. He refuses to feed it anything other than its regimental diet, where you love making lick-mats and trialing a bunch of different dog-safe foods almost like your own little cooking show. Simon refuses to pet the dog all the time, but it's almost given he's going to come home and find you curled up with the massive beast on the couch. You -dead asleep- and the guard dog looming over your curled-up form and giving a low, malicious, growl.

Until it realizes Daddy has come home.

Then the big bastard won't leave Simon alone long enough to take his boots off without getting covered in drool and enough hair to make a fur coat.

These are the kinds of pictures you send Simon, utterly destroying his own mental image of the terrifying dog charged with keeping you safe. You're quite amused when he demands you stop making the dog look so pathetic.

[simp-ly-writes]

Safehouse

Pairing: Platonic!Task Force 141 x Reader

Summary: When a mission goes south, the team is looking for a safehouse to keep their heads down but little do they know of the small family you keep hidden away from the world.

Warnings: some light swearing and depictions of blood.

A/N: Inspired by the Avengers: Age of Ultron - Safehouse Scene.

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

The night mission had gone terribly. You had been deployed for over six months now and for all that stress to amount for nothing had a new rage encompassing your mind- distracting you from the bullet wound you sustained while trying to escape from a collapsing building. The intelligence your team was meant to collect falling down with it.

Shaking your head at the back of the SUV, you grasped your thigh tight- doing your best to hold the bleeding. Gaz was doing is best to help aid your wound as Johnny fished around in the trunk- throwing medical supplies over the seats as he let out a string of curse words and unknown English.

"Fucking-hell Johnny- you curse more than I do- and I am the one bleeding!" You croak out, sweat dripping down your forehead as Kyle fishes out the bullet. John is doing his best to keep the car ride smooth as Simon tries to radio Laswell to only receive silence in return.

Communications were down, Simon is now telling Price off for driving shit as you were about to lose your shit if Kyle did not get this bullet out of you sooner and Soap stopped sounding like a chicken with its head chopped off while flinging himself around in the trunk.

"Hows it going back there Gaz?" Price asks while gripping the steering wheel- your sharp breath intakes of pain are sending guilt flooding down his spine. He should have accounted for the possibility of more hostiles being at the location.

"Oh you know Captain, its going swell- blood and all sorts," Kyle retorts, his hands shaking as he finally gets ahold of the bullet and starts to carefully remove it from your body. The car runs over a hole in the road causing his hand to waver significantly as he apologizes to your groan of pain. The metal tools digging into your skin again.

"Any pain receivers back there Soap- booze... anything?" You ask as your vision turns slightly blurry, your head swimming side to side as the car turns from the ever-growing pressure in your thigh.

"Negative. Can't find anything back here- Simon, you have a torch up there in the glovebox?" Johnny calls out before swearing once more as a piece of gear slams on to his hand. Shaking out the pain a flashlight hits him square in the head- "thanks-mate, much appreciated."

"No problem," Simon replies calmly before testing the radio once more, looking in the rear view mirror in pity as he witnesses your pain without being able to do anything about it.

Kyle fishes the bullet out of your thigh, dropping it into a clear plastic bag before temporarily dressing your wound as you whisper out your thanks, your voice gone horse as the need for sleep overtakes your body.

"Hey, hey, hey. Gotta stay awake for now. Your wound will soon become infected if I can't dress it properly. We haven't got enough supplies in here-" Kyle starts to say before Price cuts him off- taking another sharp turn as you make your way out of the city.

"Anyone know of any places we can stand down for awhile, get their leg done-up?"

The car is met by silence as you groan out, closing your eyes harshly before cursing. Simon turns to look back at you- he knows what you are planning to say before he tilts his head to your opening eyes. Asking if this is really what you were going to do.

You only nod once before looking through the rear-view mirror at Price, "I know a place..."

"Tell me which turn to take next." And before you know it, the last of your secrets withheld from the group are about to fall like a house made of cards.

--

The sun had began to rise as Price pulls into the dirt driveway. A dull-yellow farmhouse sits atop a hill with a wrap-around porch to add to its charm. Gaz looks out the window and back at you, confused as to why you know of this place- seemingly off-the-grid. You only offer a small bittersweet smile in return before asking him to help you out of the car and to the front door.

Johnny stumbles out of the trunk as Simon pulls him aside, warning his best-mate to keep his outbursts and comments to a lesser state before walking up the front stairs. Soap looks around with squinted eyes, the garden is well-kept as is the exterrior of the home. The lawn freshly mowed as a swing drifts lightly in the wind from under an oak tree just down the hill. A few sets of bikes sit by the garage- painted a farmhouse red as he hears you fumble through your keys kept within your tactical vest.

Swearing out, Simon shoves him once in warning before the door is opneing and the boys soon follow you inside. Dusting off their boots while staring into the space in awe.

"This is not the usual safehouse- what is this place?" Gaz asks you while stepping into the living room and picking up a picture frame from a side-table. He looks at the image intently before turning it to the Captain who clutches the frame in his hands, a softness coating his eyes as he stares at your back.

You are unknowing of their stares as you walk into the kitchen. The sink is flowing as dishes are being stacked on the countertop. A radio plays a distant tune from the sunroom as you wrap your arms around your partner who looks up quickly. Viewing your reflection with theirs as they scream out in suprize. Dropping the plate while drying off their hands- they give you a large hug and kiss on the cheek, you feel as their hands shake against your form.

Price, Johnny, and Kyle all race over to the commotion as Simon leans against the archway to the living-room, his eyes crinkled as he hears feet stirring from up the stairs.

Wrapping your arm around your partners waist, they lean their head on your shoulder before narrowing their eyes playfully at all the new bodies in the home, "And who might these people be, luv?"

"Hmmm, just a couple of strangers from work" you say in a teasing tone before kissing their forehead and casting a smile at Johnny who stands with his mouth-agape.

Price steps forward, your wedding-day picture found back on the table as he extends his hand towards your partner- giving it a light shake while introducing himself. His brain still firing on how you managed to hide this all from him for years. His eyes shift over to your own, his head with a slight tilt as you mouth, not now at the sounds of little feet running down the stairs- calling out your name.

"Mom/dad! you're back-you're back!" they call out, clashing into your legs as you wince out slightly- your wound still open as your partners eyes fall to it in shock before removing the children from you.

Kissing the tops of their heads and giving their hair a slight ruffle. You look over at Simon who stands with his arms crossed by the stairs- someone is a bit disappointed. "I think you forgot to hug Uncle Simon back as well," you tease out as the children jump up and down before tackling the man to the ground.

Shaking your head at the scene as your partner laughs beside you, Kyles cough breaks your focus as he points to your leg, "ah-yes, sweetheart? do you know where the medical kit is?"

"by the sink dear... I will... leave you both to that one," they say with a slight wince escaping their mouth at their ends yet their eyes hold determination- you will be getting an earful of it tonight in bed.

Giving them a wide smile, you crack Gaz one on the back before hobbling over to the kitchen sink once more.

--

As you exit the room, Kyle following in tow. John speaks to your partner, "Had I have known- I would have never came here. I apologize for barging in on your family."

Your partner looks as the men, throwing a waving hand in their face, "My love did their best to keep this place off the files and databases- that could only last for so long- I suppose. Laswell did her fair-share to help us as well- she knows of our situation all too well..." they trail off- staring at Johnny's freshly inked tattoo with a smile.

"You know- I was very confused when they wanted to get new ink done. Good to see the reason why now- I was always happy to know they had more partners out there. Thank you for making sure they come home to me every time... I-I would never know what to do without them- the kids would say the same."

"It's an honour truly, ma'am/sir, serving by your partners side. Seeing what you both have made here... it only pushes me to work harder in order to obtain the same," Johnny says, a blush coating his cheeks as he feels Simon staring him down from building legos with the kids on the rug. The masked-man gives Soap a nod in gratitude before introducing the kids as your partner moves to clean the upstairs guest rooms.

--

John exits the house, seemingly overwhelmed by the images and nature of the estate. Looking at the various rolling hills, the flowers drifting in the morning breeze as birds sing in the air. He closes his eyes, standing on the porch- letting off a sigh.

"Everything al'right, John?" Gaz says from the doorway, drying off his hands with a hand-made hand towel. The Captain closes his eyes before turning around to answer, "I think that an old man like me is discovering everything that this job hasn't allowed me to do."

"Cap-" Gaz begins to reply, his eyes falling in worry as he walks over to Price.

"No, no. Its what must be done so others can have lives like this," Price says while shaking his heads and looking off to the side. You yell lunchtime from the kitchen as every flocks to the sunroom overlooking the farm-grounds.

╰┈➤ A/N: hope you enjoyed this!

[blingblong55]

Now that we don't talk- Simon 'Ghost' Riley

A/N: funny enough...these two drivers are no longer with the girls in these pictures. also, this is not me telling you how reader looks like

--- F!Reader, angst, established!relationship, F1 au, F1 driver!Simon, cheating ---

A/N: watched the Las Vagas shit show of a race and then got inspired....so here's this shit mess of a fic

He was the guy every girl wanted, from the teens to the older women, yet he held your hand on the red carpet at that award show. He kissed you in yachts and danced with you in galas and ballrooms. Paraded your name when he won races. You were everywhere, from tea pages, to fan-made edits and now you're here, stuck in a hotel room, waiting for him. For the past seven months, he's kept you hidden, like you were some kind of repunzel. Never to be let out of the tower unless it was by him. He had what every driver and fan wanted in their lives, fame, wealth, social status, a gorgeous and supportive girlfriend and the way he was the best at his job. 

They always say to look for the smallest of clues, that's why, all the tabloids talked about how he 'had it all'. Now, he took out the girlfriend part and added Playboy to the list. 

Three months before you and him announced your split, he sat down with you. Told you all the truths he kept from you. Your tears well up in that pretty face of yours. "I started to see other women, that was nine months ago, in Spain, that's why I told you to stay at the hotel," his eyes too teared up. It took a lot to not slap him, scream and yell at him for being such a man slut, but you needed to hear it, needed to know the truth before the internet did. He took a deep breath, "I...there's been at least ten different women, I've slept with more but...only those ten did I take to race weekends instead of you." His eyes, full of regret look at you. "When did you stop loving me?" Your question caught him off guard. "I...I think it was a year ago but I thought it was me being anxious over that whole contract thing and having to move and...I'm sorry, I shouldn't make excuses for my actions," he looks down. 

You nod, not daring to look at him anymore. "I'm sorry, R/N," his voice small. "No, I'm sorry," you respond and he looks at you confused. "What do you mean by that?" He questions you. "I'm sorry for falling in love, for being a fool and seeing myself with you for the rest of my life. I'm sorry for trusting you were sleeping alone when I wasn't there...I'm sorry I wasn't enough to make you stay...or to be patient enough and end it like a real man would," you play with your phone's edge. You look at him, finally. "Why did you keep me hidden?" He shakes his head at that question. "The times you were there, the other women were there too," he confesses and your heart stops. "...oh," your voice is small, so soft and filled with so much woe. 

"I...I guess I should go," You stand up. "I'm sorry I wasn't what you deserved, I hope you find a man who treats you like you are the universe to him, I hope he kisses you in public and I wish you happiness, I'm sorry." He stands up too and walks you to the door. 

A month later, you and him confirmed the rumour. "Formula 1 driver Simon Riley and long-time girlfriend [R/N], have announced their split on a joint social media statement." The article read. Your phone is on silent as you reread the message you put out to the world. "To the fans, it is time we confirm that we are no longer together. We have grown apart and it's time we grow up and move on to new parts of our lives. We will always love each other, together or not but our relationship has run its course. All our gratitude for the six years of acceptance, Simon and [R/N]." Your eyes glistened with sorrow as you shook your head. 

For days, you stayed indoors. Cried, looked through memories, private ones the world never saw. What did he do? He was photographed in clubs, hand on a woman's waist, drunk kisses, alcohol, tight dresses and that new title, "F1's playboy." He kept winning, getting more fame and having his name all over the world. Meanwhile, you walk the streets alone. You were there for when he was accepted in F3 and when he moved to F2, even were the shoulder he leaned on all the years he waited to become an F1 driver.  

His bed was never the same, neither was his flat. It was no longer cosy, no longer comforting after a bad or long day. His bed missed the warmth of it. His lips missed the consistent pecks after he gave you a pouty lip when you denied staying up late on race day. What did he miss the most? You, all of you and that was soon to be shown. That Playboy facade was for show, inside, all he wanted was to stop being seen with so many women. He wanted one and quickly, his team noticed. He stopped showing up at parties, and clubs and stopped talking to all the women who weren't there for official business or if they weren't a fan who asked for an autograph or picture. 

That mask only stayed on for eight months, thirteen days and four hours. He stopped showing off his wealth, dressed in only team attire, comfy clothes, or in suits and ties. His bed was empty most nights, his right cheek was no longer stained with the red lipstick you left at every little accomplishment he made. He fixed his image and unfollowed any woman who wasn't important in his career, except one, you. 

And as he did this, all you saw were the old tabloids. Him all over women. You dated off the light the media gave you, you kept your nights away from sight, fixed and resolved all your problems and then, by some cruel mistake, you saw him. Jogging by your place. For some twisted way, your heartbeat fastened. It brought you back to when you'd time him before the season started. That's where the kiss on the right cheek came from. A towel-dried that side of his face, just so you could kiss it. This happened all through your relationship. And, on some Wednesday, a friend invited you to attend the last race of the season. 

You attended, not just because of the invite but because it was a promise. "When I win most if not all races I want you to go, be waiting for me, look up to the podium because my love, that entire season will be yours," he, one night whispered to you. And there you were, in that garage, wearing a hat, his number on it as you watched the qualification. The cameras awaited to capture you and him kissing, but none of that happened, not even a glance from you to him. 

"Riley takes pole, all eyes on him to see if he breaks yet another record," the commentator said. And as he sat there, he thought of you. The good luck kiss, the pat on his helmet before any race. And holding hands when walking to the paddock. It was a ritual, something he held holy to him. If only he could prove he is the man you now deserve if he could get out of his car, run to you and confess a speech he memorised. The one that said all the truth, the one in which he tells you that just in your first year being together, he had a ring picked out, the same one he kept in every coat for when the time was right. And there was that mistake, one fatal one that cost him his Mrs. Riley. Every single second was the right time, every stare, every kiss, every laugh, the whispers, the running from the cameras, it was always you, it was always the right time when with you. 

Simon Riley, world champion, world record breaker, the man every driver wants to be this year, now claiming every single race of that season as he walked to that podium. And, in a crowd of friends, teammates, fans and cameras, he looked for you. National anthems played and as he was about to lose hope, he saw you there, the spot he told you to stand in for when the day came. You look up, and the cameras pan to you and him. That stare, oh that stare that spoke the romance no other book or poet could explain. His smile widened, gaze softened when he noticed you cried. Proud of the man who made his dreams come true. 

Maybe you weren't there for all the days he drove but that engagement ring, that symbolised you, was there for all of them. You give him a nod and his smile widens.

"I'll do it, I swear one day, I'll be added to the list of legends who came before me and when I do, I need you there, my love," he kissed you. "And when I do, you nod at me, that's how I'll know you are proud of me," he whispered. 

As the night came to an end, the photos, flashes, and signatures, all rushed to come and find you. He needed his right cheek kissed and maybe this time it wouldn't be his lips but to just feel you next to him, that fed him enough. He spotted you and as he ran to you, he stopped in his tracks. 

One month, two days and three hours. That is how late he was to you. His gaze was now filled with tears as he saw you hold another hand. A woman, looking for nothing but sex approached him and he declined. "Why not?" She questioned him. "I have a fiancé," he said coldly and moved away from her. He looked down, at a paper, written by his poetic hand, a small box, made by him with the help of some carpenter, all gripped as he swore he would not give up. Not ever, especially when he knows that in this life, he was meant for one woman. Maybe he did fuck up, maybe he will be forever alone but to know that for one second he held you in his arms, that was enough. 

He nodded and sighed, "Is it over now?" he thought. "No," your heart would've responded for you. As he turns and walks away, you look back and you notice that box. Your heart...oh that tingle that makes you feel alive. Maybe it was all in his head, maybe he wasn't late...maybe. "Simon!" you called out, the crowd too loud for him to hear you. Your friend lets go of your hand. "Simon!" you move through the crowds. "Simon, stop!" You push and run. Adrenaline, maybe not like the one he has after every race but it's still something. He walks away, getting into a car and looking at that piece of paper. 

No one heard of him for months. No one heard of you for months. 

My love, my R/N, I made a mistake. Not cheating but one that is worse, pretending I didn't call you my wife to everyone else. A vow I made in my head, a wedding night I planned one night as we made love. Truth is, no, I didn't cheat. No, I didn't sleep with anyone when I was with you. What happened was, I noticed it. I noticed how you paused your life for mine, how you took care of me, how you made sure I ate healthy, slept enough, and got used to different time zones, all whilst giving your life no attention. I was 17 when we first met, you and I, an accidental 'Hi' one that gave me the privilege of falling in love with the woman who knows me better than anyone else. I've known you for a decade now, loved you for nine of those years, and made you my girlfriend for five of them. I wore that title with pride. By the way, didn't you ever question why everyone called you my wife or Mrs. Riley? Funny how you didn't even ask me about it. I admit, I was only at those clubs looking for you, I didn't drink but pretended to, I kissed their cheeks, made it look like I kissed their lips. In my head, I was married. I am married. Called you my little wife when you patted my helmet to the mechanics, they laughed. I did sleep with other women, I confess to that but I didn't kiss them, didn't care for their pleasure, not when I promised it was your pleasure...just yours that mattered to me. Did you keep my locket? I hope you did, if not...it's fine, we'll find a new one and start fresh. I know you are wondering, why I can't let you talk as I give this speech and I know you are crying, your lips quiver as I confess. It's a reason why I haven't looked up from this piece of paper. I can't see you cry, you know that. I am begging, begging as an imbecile, to have you again. To prove that I never cheated, I lied about doing it but never did. You'd think I'd be crazy to cheat on a crazy girl like you? Baby, that was a joke, although...you are a little crazy but I still love you. I love you...yeah...yeah, I do. I know you are asking, when will this stupid man stop talking and it's now. Well, wait...just let me say this. Marry me, marry me so I don't have to pretend anymore. So...please, be kind to my bastard heart and marry me.

A/N: you know well a Kasper fic isn't a Kasper angst fic if it doesn't end in a 'but are they together? did he die? did she die?' way

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Tags:

@liyanahelena @actuallyhiswife @sexuallyfrustatedbitch @rosecastiello @ghostslillady @urmom-747 @aethelwyneleigh27 @girl-of-multi-fandoms @tomiesdiet @graesage @chasreads @asteria1103 @tgirljeep388 @call-me-a-fool

[tojisun]

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C0c8qJLp7Wd/?igshid=ODhhZWM5NmIwOQ==

This reminded me of biker!simon 😭❤️

DOESNT EVEN HAVE TO BE BIKER!SIMON BECAUSE THATS JUST SIMON FOR SURE <3 (dying at the idea that this is bimbo!reader making a tiktok video with simmy <33)

im droooolin thinking about simon doing this omg :((

“baby?” you ask, walking up to him. your phone’s already filming—just your camera app, to ensure that it doesn’t shut close on you—and you smile when simon instantly stops what he’s doing to turn his full attention to you.

“yeah?”

“you think you can bench me?”

simon blinks, the question taking him by surprise. then, with not a single hesitation, he says, “of course.” he reaches his hand out to hold yours, and tugs you to his lap. you clamber with ease, giggling at the ticklish feeling of his other hand holding you by your waist. “why? you want us to try?”

you hum, hooking your chin on his shoulder. “yes, please.”

simon rubs his palm all over your back, gently easing you into a sleepy sigh. “this for your lil tiktok?”

“mhm. s’that fine?”

“of course.” you feel him kiss the top of your head. “sounds fun.”

it takes a while before you two are able to sort out the logistics—his confused, “where exactly do i hold on?” receiving a confident, “well. here and here!”—before you two are finally in position.

“c’mere, darlin’,” he says and you round to his side, beaming down at him as he beckons you by lifting his arms up.

before you can give much thought to the sudden self-consciousness that’s clawing its way into your chest, simon’s already folding his arms down towards himself before pumping them up, lifting all that you are in the air.

you squeal, still taken by surprise, but the sound is devoured by simon’s laugh as he continues to lift you up and tug you down—consistent with the pace, his breath stable and not bearing any sign of being winded, and his arms flexing naturally instead of straining.

you’re not even any slimmer or petite, but there your big, muscular, and god of a man is, benching you with ease.

“oh my god!” you giggle, giddiness returning. “this is so-o cool, si!”

“yeah?” he says from underneath you, grinning so boyishly, it makes him look so much younger. “s’good to hear, baby. because this is fun f’r me too.”

“really?” you murmur, cheeks filling with warmth as the anxiousness returns.

“really,” simon replies, resolute. “i promise.”

he pumps his arms a few more times before finally resting them, with you collapsing on his chest in a heap of laughter. simon gathers you in his arms—thick and robust—and peppers kisses all over your face, making you laugh even harder.

(you edit the video and post bits and pieces—from the way simon tugged you to his lap and later when he bench-pressed you. it was only supposed to gain the traction of your followers, but it had blown up, racking hundreds of thousands of likes and views.

you even receive a, “??????” private message from johnny who sent you back your own post.)

[cutiecusp]

Edge of Heaven.

i literally wrote this in 10 minutes before i lost the idea, inspired by the Song Edge of Heaven by Wham! And a little idea about reader and Bestfriend!Simon Riley

Warnings: Fluff, a few sexual undertones, not edited or proofread.

"Oh i love this song!" You exclaim, as you lean forward to turn up the car radio. You had been on a girls night out, and begged your best friend Simon to pick you up.

"Yeah, you might, love, but you know cheesy pop isn't my thing." Simon chuckles, turning it down slightly.

"But its George..." You pout.

Simon look at you and raises an eyebrow. "Princess, I've picked you and your giggly mates up, listened to you all talk about the hot guys in the club, who kissed who, who hates who, where you all got your bloody clubbin' outfits, how your heels hurt, how many fruity drinks you all managed to consume, and dropped them all home. Best friend or not, i'm in control of the radio."

"Fine." You mock huff. "I didn't realise you were listening to us." You add, looking at him as he drove towards your house.

"I like to listen to the things you think are important." Simon states, his eyes never leaving the road. His matter of fact tone made your cheeks a little hot, and you tore your gaze away.

You close your eyes, the night catching up with you. A part of you had always fancied Simon, but you've always been too afraid to ruin what friendship you both had.

His voice broke the silence. "Fuckin' hell love, this song is sexual." He looked at you with a cheeky grin.

"You like this kinda thing sweetheart? Like those books you giggle about at book club?"

A denial was on your lips, but you swallowed it away. Tonight was different. You had been harbouring feelings for too long, so armed with the courage of your fruity drinks, you met his gaze and nodded.

"Y-yeah, Si. kinda my thing." You say quietly, gauging his reaction.

His eyes met yours, and you were surprised to see that they were dark with lust. He cleared his throat and readjusts his body in the drivers seat.

"Chains, tied up? Dirty movies?" He asks in a low voice. His hands gripping a little harder on the wheel, as he turns to the left and brings the car to a stop.

The heat on your cheeks dials up further, spreading the blush down your throat and onto your chest as he pushes your skirt up and rests his large hand on your thigh.

"Tell me to stop, sweetheart, and we will never talk about this again. but if you tell me you want this as bad as i do, it won't just be heaven where i'll be taking you."

Your breath shudders in your lungs as you feel the heat of his palm on your skin. You bite your bottom lip and nod dumbly.

"Words, love. Tell. Me." Simons gruff voice fills the car.

"Yes, Simon. I want you." you whisper, as you lean forward and softly press your lips to his.

"It's just a matter of time before my heart is looking for a home."

tagging @xoxunhinged and im thinking about a part two... but this is a rushed, rambly 10 mins, so nervous about getting it out there...

[enjoythesilentworld]

Simon's Month - (Cat)Fish

day 19!! @youngroyals-events

Simon tries to convince a man on a dating app that, yes, that is his actual face in those pictures.

read below or on ao3 (T, 500)

You got a match! 

Wille liked your photo!

Wille sent a message!

_____________________

Wille: If you’re gonna use fake pictures you might as well make them believable…

Simon: im sorry what?

W: I’m just saying, it’s pretty obvious you’re a catfish. Those pictures are not real.

S: um yes they are? that's literally my face

W: Nice try! No one actually looks like that. Way too perfect.

S: is this some kind of weird pickup line because im not sure you’re executing it properly

W: No? What do you mean? Clearly those are photoshopped or something. Who has skin that smooth looking? Or eyes that beautiful shade of brown?

S: literally i do

W: Seriously, where did you find these? Did you edit them yourself?

S: did you get dropped on your head as a child or something

W: … I mean, probably. But that doesn’t matter here. I know an edit when I see one.

S: clearly you dont because that is my face thank you for the compliment, i guess???

W: You’re welcome for complimenting your editing skills. But I still don’t believe you.

S: ok now im convinced this is some weird plot toget me to send like nudes or something

W: Oh my gosh, no! I’m not even on here for that! I’m too much of a romantic for hook-ups. We’d have to go on at least a few dates first.  And I would only ever ask if I knew you wanted to.  To send pictures.  Naked ones. And only you felt safe doing so. But I think in person is better anyway.

S: okay…

W: Sorry if that was weird. I keep staring at the pictures and they’re making it hard for my brain to work.

S: hard huh?

W: Ha. Ha.

S: i guess that’s kinda sweet i’m not much into hook-ups either

W: Oh. That's cool. But, seriously, where did you find these pictures?

S: i remind you. that is me im starting to question your sanity Wille

W: Sure, Simon. You just walk around like that all day and somehow you’re still single and on a dating app. Sure, very believable, *catfish*! 

S: omfg i do have pet fish but im not a catfish you're one to talk no ones hair is that color also there is no way u have a perfect little freckle on ur top lip or do you put that there with makeup

W: What?? Me?? No, it’s not makeup! I am just Swedish! I get freckles in the sun!

S: suuuure

W: Don’t turn this around on me, Simon.  Except, wait, do you really have pet fish?

S: yes, i do

W: Can I see them? 

S: [Image attached]

W: Beautiful!  What are their names? 

S: idk if i can trust you with their names you think i’m a liar

W: :( Simon

S: :( Wille

W:

You can trust me.  It’s justified, I think, that I don’t believe you.

S: [Image attached] literally me [Image attached] me with fish for proof i cant believe your awful rizz is working on me … Wille? here i’ll write out a little note for you so you know its actually me [Image attached]

W: ‘.,;-=p./ ?um I-m her e SOrry I was.. You are real? 

S: lol i am real

W: When are you free?

S: huh?

W: I would like to take you on a date, Simon To apologize for calling you a catfish But also because you are funny and pretty, and I need to see you in person just to be totally sure that you’re actually real. 

S: hm i guess i’d be okay with that i wanna know what that freckle on your lip tastes like

W: asdnasfwaogjfan

S: their names are oski, olle, and felle, btw are you free tonight?

[lxvvie]

Freely Using Ghost, A Tale of Two Brats edition:

Being bored and wanting to love up on someone, Simon specifically. Cornering him, using his chain as leverage to pull his face closer, your big bear of a man expecting some fuck and suck, only for you to kiss the side of his mouth, tell him what a good boy he is, boop his nose, and leave. Well, what the fuck?

Simon wanting to kiss you, wanting to feel your lips against his, wanting to shove his tongue down your throat but you keep laughing. Or pecking his lips when he really wants to deepen it. Fuck, you even blew into his mouth once and giggled like a madman when he glared. But he sees the mischievous glint in your eyes. Sees the challenge in them. Fuck it.

Sexually Frustrated Simon being a grumpy grape because he should've been balls and/or tongue deep in your cunt yesterday but you keep. fuckin'. teasing. him. Simon trying his best to keep his composure but the voice messages you keep sending of you fucking yourself, moaning his name, and fuckin' telling him all the things you'd do to him are taking its toll. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!

Surprising Ghost with a blowjob but it's really so you can put the really cute cockring you purchased while he was away right where it belongs. And Simon wants to spontaneously combust. 😘

Playing with Simon's dick absentmindedly while watching TV. Looking up and Simon's dark eyes boring into yours. Because you're playing with his dick. His very hard, leaking dick. You put your finger in your mouth, tasting some of his precum. Your eyes never leave Simon's and deep breaths, mate. He's trying to keep calm even though he wants to facefuck you. You wink and go back to watching TV, a job well done, and if Simon could fuckin' disappear into the couch, he would. Bloody fuckin' tease.

Not wanting to fuck but wanting to suck. And leave hickeys. And so you do, on just about every expanse of Simon's body, especially his thighs. You touched and kissed and sucked on EVERY BLOODY PLACE EXCEPT HIS COCK. FUCK!

Simon finally snaps and you're on the receiving end of a series of sexually frustrated texts from Simon because fuck you. fuck you so fuckin much you drive him crazy fuck he can't stop thinking about you and your cunt and stoping fucking teasing him and just fucking FUCK him fUCK. You only text back, "lmao ❤️ ". Oh, fuck you.

Simon getting you back. By being the big spoon this time. So you can feel him press against your ass. Deliberately. "Don't you want to switch and be the little spoon, Si?" "Make me." Well, shit. He got you there. Payback's a 6'4", grumpy asshole, ain't it?

Simon finally being balls deep inside you, fucking out what seems like an eternity's worth of frustration in his body. Simon fucking you, hands intertwined with yours, lips pressed against his own, and he makes you cum multiple times over. Simon fucking you dumb—FINALLY—until you make him ruin his orgasm. shit—"Can't let you get off that easy, Si-bear! ❤️" Bloody fuckin' hell. You'll be the death of him. But all's fair in war and cunt and cock, luv.

[oopsdevil]

kyle "gaz" garrick edition. (pt. 2)

"I don’t ‘develop’ headcanons. They come to me in visions and I know they’re correct."

• he physically cannot go to bed angry at you, like even if he's still mad he will mumble a little "love you"

• as introverted as he can be, DO NOT let him drink at weddings, he won't sit down for a second

• i feel like he loves wearing fun colors in his civilian life but can't match AT ALL

• soap will make fun of him if he sees this in a facebook post

• "doll? i look good, right?"

• "oh honey not the high socks-"

• kyle asks simon to join you two for dinner more often than the rest of the team

• (simon acts like its not a big deal)

• (it is)

• price might trust gaz to be responsible and keep his cool in difficult situations, but he's still the youngest of the team so here is a list of things he did:

• that time gaz kept a cat in his barracks for a month

• that time gaz dropped a condom about 15 seconds after telling the team you were visiting

• the MANY times gaz finished the ice cream and put it back in the freezer

• that time he forgot he had a mission the next day and binged parks and rec the ENTIRE night

• (he panicked because he was already tired)

• he gets grumpy for the DUMBEST THINGS. sometimes he has to remind himself its not that deep

• "oh! are those tulips?"

• "...no"

• "wait, baby i like those flowers too!"

• "but now i KNOW you wanted tulips-"

• he is very open but also unintentionally secretly and mysterious

• did you know he has 5 tattoos? sometimes he casually starts speaking french? he is amazing at tennis?

[bookish-bogwitch]

Six Sentence Solstice

Helloooo! Thank you to everyone who has been tagging me over the past few months. I’ve been around but haven’t felt much like sharing; I usually hate whatever I’m writing until the first draft is done, but I finally have a first draft of Basil Pitch’s Diary to edit, and feel suddenly excited to share.

Next week I am hosting my family for Christmas and will be cosplaying as a Dickens character by roasting a goose. The goose chase (nearest goose farm is 30 miles away) will take a lot of my energy tomorrow, so we're here a day early. Festive solstice, y'all. Here are are six fifteen sentences.

“Why are you being so nice to him?” Had not told Niall about the truce with Snow. Could not tell him about the Mage dropping Snow discarding Snow like a broken appliance. Obviously Snow was better off without him, but Snow didn’t see it that way. I didn’t want to embarrass him.  And I didn’t want to watch Niall cock his head and say Oh, Baz … “I’m not.” “You gave him an answer in Magic Words.” Miss Possibelf had been lecturing on how spells lose potency with disuse and had called on Snow to name an example. Did not think anyone had heard me lean toward him and whisper Deez nuts. “Power move.” “And at lunch the other day,” Niall pressed, “you spelled mustard off his tie.”  Fuck. Had thought Niall had been distracted, like everyone else in the dining hall, by the spectral pixie grandmother reducing our classmate to sparkly tears. I’d been haunted, too, by the image of neglected baby Simon, ignored by his caretakers, slathering himself in condiments.

Broken appliance inspo was my vacuum cleaner, which broke last night after years of faithful service. Maybe I’ll get it fixed, or maybe I’ll just murder it and steal its magic.

Tagging @facewithoutheart @cutestkilla @ivelovedhimthroughworse @thewholelemon @monbons

@mooncello @skeedelvee @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @moodandmist @ileadacharmedlife

@fatalfangirl @artsyunderstudy @emeryhall @raenestee @ic3que3n

@whogaveyoupermission @stitchy-queerista @blackberrysummerblog @alexalexinii @gekkoinapeartree

@brilla-brilla-estrellita @shrekgogurt @scone-lover @nightimedreamersworld @stardustasincocaine

@martsonmars @onepintobean @agni-ashes @aristocratic-otter @alleycat0306

@fight-surrender @theearlgreymage @thehoneyedhufflepuff @iamamythologicalcreature @youarenevertooold

@technetiumai @roomwithanopenfire @hushed-chorus @theimpossibledemon @comesitintheclover

@goblindad-emoshit @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @forabeatofadrum @nausikaaa

@johnwgrey @prettygoododds @run-for-chamo-miles @best--dress @arthurkko

[drawlody]

SEASON 2 SEASON 2 SEASON 2 SEASON 2 SEASON

BB I'm so excited u couldnt even telllllllllllllll here's the announcement

My reaction to this is one of the thing that make my suspision of me having autism grow bigger lol like fr

Things i expect to be touch on:

The deal with Jay and Lil Destiny like they didnt just ditch their fam to go here especially Jay he got lil siblings

Marceline like omg Simon got 2 very important people to him they cant just ditch 1 completely

A bit more info bout Betty outside of their relationship

Simon make some friends or reconnect with old ones honestly he need someone just anyone

that's all i could think for now i would add more later:3

Edit : oh yeah and we better see that arm chop off its canon event (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧