#toxic simon for life

[shotmrmiller]

A/N: This was supposed to be a small thing cuz i inhale toxic ex's like air but here we are.

Thinking of a toxic ex!Simon that you broke up with almost a year ago. You wanted more than what he was willing to give you— unbelievable fuck aside— and you were just gonna get hurt in the long run. So you ended it.

What hurt the most was how he didn't even try to put up a fight. He just stood in front of you, as impassive as ever.

"If that's what you want." He shrugged.

And that was that. Ever since then, you've focused on yourself and your job. Meaning no dates, no get-togethers, nothing. Just work and lonely nights with a glass of wine. That he hadn't reached out once in all this time certainly rubbed salt on your wounds.

Now you're here. Out with a group of friends at a bar, after being borderline guilt-tripped into coming. A couple of mango martinis in and you're approached by a handsome fellow. Curly, brown locks and sun-kissed skin.

"Can I buy you another one, lass?"

"Sure. I'll never turn down a free drink."

He chuckles and his smooth laughter sends a shiver up your spine. As he turns away to get the bartender, you flick your eyes at your friends. They're giving you cheeky smiles and thumbs up.

Rolling your eyes with a smile, Mr. Handsome comes back with your drink before saddling up next to you on a bar stool.

"So what's a beautiful bird such as yourself doing all alone here?"

"I've been locked up for too long. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta say, the view's quite nice."

He grabbed the back of your stool and dragged you a little closer to him, before tilting his head to the side— emerald green eyes half lidded and slightly covered by his curly hair.

"Is that right? I gotta say I also like what I'm seeing." Moving his hand from the padding of your stool to hook onto your hip, he says, "How about we move to a more private setting? Do you live nearby?"

He'd be the first guy since Simon that you've shown any interest in. You weren't ready for a relationship yet, but a distraction wouldn't hurt. And his staggering good looks certainly helped his case.

Nodding, you take out your phone from your purse to text your friends that have somehow disappeared when it vibrates, so you unlock your screen.

Take him home and I'm slitting his throat.

You flinch and look around wildly in a panic. Where is he?

"Hey, are you alright?"

Your phone vibrates again and you swallow hard before opening the text.

If his hand doesn't remove itself from your body, it'll be coming off of his.

You squeak before aggressively removing yourself from the stool, tripping over your heels. You weren't as sober as you'd like to be. The guy tries to stabilize you by grabbing your wrist but you jerk yourself away from his grip.

"I uh, I have somewhere to be." You toss on your jacket over your shoulders before running towards the front door and into the cool, rainy night.

Bzzt. Another text.

Good choice. I'd have hated ruining your nice purple comforter. It's one of my favorites.

You turn your body, doing a 360, eyes aimlessly looking for the ghost of your past life, when your phone rings. You frantically press the answer button.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

You hear him tsk. "I'd lower that tone of yours, love. I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," he says condescendingly.

Sighing, "I'm allowing you to continue this delusional 'break' of yours, but my patience runs thin. No one is allowed to touch you but me."

Your heart beats viciously at his audacity and tears start running down your cheeks. In fear, in relief or in anger, you don't know.

"Don't cry, doll. You should've known you'd always be mine. Now go home. I'll keep you safe."

Hanging up, you do as he says, wondering how long he's been keeping tabs on you— haunting you. You make a note to yourself to check your flat for cameras.

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

Simon Eriksson is a beautiful character and deserves all the good things in this world plus more.

[cartoonchaos]

“gee i wonder why there’s still so much more fanfiction about male characters” “we need more morally complex female characters” “i love relationships that are doomed by the narrative” “more stories need to treat mentally ill characters with compassion and respect” “all his problems could’ve been fixed if he only went to therapy” you fuckers can’t even handle the ending of fionna and cake

[cod-dump]

König & Soap: *jokingly flirting with each other*

Horangi: *clearly pissed off and not understanding that theyre joking*

Ghost: *pessimistic about Soap openly flirting with someone but is refusing to show it*

Horangi, loudly: Hey Ghost want to go on a date?

Ghost: Sure!

*both walk out hand in hand while König and Soap stare in shock*

[petrigrof-doomed-yuri]

i hate petrigrof.

just kidding. i do not. kinda.

note: this post makes petrigrof seem toxic. its not toxic. its just very doomed.

this is part one of my talking about the things i hate about petrigrof! because theres a lot. its. its insane.

i hate fionna and cake the series. just kidding again, but i hated the they way handled them. it felt so.. incomplete. which the series isnt over yeah, but simon basically was like “yay! im happy again!” at the end so im gonna pretend all the relationship building is over.

this also isnt the only time im talking about the fionna and cake series with this, because thats where we get most of our content from. but yeah anyways eyebrjdbsmd

i hate how simon was made out to be the bad guy and like betty did no wrong. which, did simon do something wrong? yeah he did. he didn’t consider how much betty gave up to fulfill his dream and stuff etc etc.. but betty is a grown woman. shes her own person.

this like also kinda harmful stereotype of women wanting to do what the man wants but i digresssssss 😁😁

but anyways, betty is her own person. simon never asked her to do any of it. like, yeah i agree simon is really stupid for no realizing it. yeah i think simon shouldve known better, but then again.. this isnt anyway his fault.

the fact though, is he never asked for her opinion on things. THATS the problem. but that wasn’t really ever talked about, so its kinda just.. bbbbllllleaaaaggghhggghh…

another thing about betty is that she should definitely be hold accountable. but also, to be fair, she thought “wow simon is my idol and is soooooo cool” and then started dating him. like babe i love you but why would u do that… there was such a horrible power balance because she read his books before and she thought of him as something higher because of that. so of course she subconsciously gave up all of her dreams for him. which sucks but i feel like she needed to learn how to stand her ground.

i am NOT blaming her though. at all.

she just was OBSESSED over simon to the point she wasnt her own person. which sucks, but she needed to learn to let go and move on.

dont get me wrong though.. i love these two so much!

i think definitely with a longer relationship (they were only together for about 5 years or under and didn’t even get married) so they were early-ish in their relationship so they didnt work out any of the kinks. and thats what sucks about them! they didnt have enough time to you know, have a relationship.

i think these two with enough time couldve been something great and its so sad they couldn’t get the life they deserve:( i love them sm

(i didnt cover all of my points here, so later down the road i may rewrite this LOL)

(also i didnt re read this so uh. sorry for the mistakes!)

[vamppvania]

They're still toxic Yuri btw. They couldn't be together in any universe because their mutual obsession would cause them both to make harmful sacrifices for the other. It wasn't necessarily healthy but it was everything. There's no regrets because what matters is that love was there. It was always there. Everything stays but it's still changing.

[pepperpixel]

*Twitching facedown on the floor, frothing and foaming at the mouth.*: Ghghghghgh…. Autoheart…. Songs…. So fitting…. For Simon, Betty, Magic Man…. Their sad sad polycule (A/N: their polycule I made up in my mind)….. oh my god. oh my god……

[harumscarumcos]

ADVENTURE TIME: FIONNA AND CAKE SPOILERS BELOW //

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I just realized that the episode Jerry made a point of it to highlight how Betty, the first time she meets Simon proper, dropped everything to follow him on his expedition. And she dropped everything, again, to be with Simon romantically once asked.

Just like how she dropped everything to follow Simon into the future, to a lane she is unfamiliar with, and continues to throw away herself bit by bit when she tries to find a way to cure him, until she ultimately sacrifices the entirety of her, her individuality, to keep Simon safe.

But what got me most is that, when Fionna asks if he dropped everything to follow her to Australia, he says “what? Why would I—“ before he’s cutoff and I truly feel this is supposed to highlight that he’s just…never quite been that for Betty.

I know we’re seeing this show as his trials to get Betty back, but like I think this line is way too important to be a throwaway, that while she would give everything to make sure he’s safe, make sure he’s happy, to just be with him, there’s a hint that that’s never been quite reciprocated in the same way from him.

[dmitriene]

cw: toxic relationship, hints on rough sex and impregnating.

simon riley who persuades you to break up with your boyfriend in his favor, he knows you're happy, jealously so, but this man is too good, a rag, he will give you an cozy apartment and a stable income, but he will not be able to put the whole world at your feet, will be able to protect you if necessary, but will not tear out the attackers trachea with his teeth.

simon is sure that he is boring, always the same, and so much more decent, because as long as that man can provide you with everything you need, simon is far from promising to be with you in sorrow and in joy, with the opportunity to live to an old age hand in hand, but can your man fuck you as good as he is?

he assures you that staying with your boyfriend is a bad choice, he will doom your whole life to a downward movement, so you can love simon instead, choose him, he is so much better, knew you were going to be together when he first caught your eye, so let him be the one you'll love forever, for who you will sing hiccuping moans while split wide on a fat, heavy cock, carved in your hole with a searing burn.

simon will show you a real life, with all its sweat, dirt and cum, hide your shocked gaze under his calloused palms, whisper against your ear that you have nothing to fear while with him, just spread your legs and let him pump a load of his thick, creamy seed in your tight, wet pussy, pinching at your clit till you buckle and sob pathetic pleas, little bud twitching with rushing blood.

you don't need to know that life with your ex would be much better, you just have to stay at simon's house and play a role of an obedient housewife, cook him, wait for him to come back if he's away on deployment again, and go outside at a minimum, you don't need anyone but him, and if you're bored, he'll make sure to breed your pussy so you'll have something real to worry about.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[yawnderu]

ANGEL — Simon Riley x Reader

cw: toxic situationship, emotionally unavailable Simon, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Simon is canonically in his late 30s).

wc: 2,027 | Part II

“Shh, shh.” Simon can feel his heartstrings being forcefully pulled, the image of you crying, tears spilling down your cheeks as you cling to him for dear life, your fingers gripping his black hoodie.

“S'okay. I can introduce you to some o' my mates.” The look of exasperation you shoot his way is enough to make him try to hold back his laughter, knowing it's not appropriate. Part of him feels bad, but the other part defends itself by telling him he warned you.

Simon Riley doesn't do love. He doesn't do feelings— he's a dog, too tainted and dirty for someone like you, too doomed. He doesn't deserve you, and yet he can't stop crawling back to you despite the heartbreak he sees in your pretty eyes the moment tells you he has to leave.

“I don't want 'em.” His attention is dragged back to you, the whiny tone making his gaze soften despite himself.

“Can you just... fuck me like you love me? I don't care if it's fake, I just...” Another choked sob escapes your lips, soft fingers tightening their hold on the fabric of his hoodie. Simon doesn't say anything— there's nothing he can say to make it better for you. The one condition to your situationship was broken, yet he couldn't find it in himself to abandon you, not when you look up at him like a lost, needy puppy.

“Y'can pretend it's love...” He offers, his tone lacking any mirth or empathy, not when his lips are busy going down your neck, trying his best not to leave any marks or be too rough with you, fighting his own nature for your sake.

His scarred, pink lips travel down your bare body with a gentleness meant to soften the blow of his emotional unavailability, trying his best to counter the heartbreak, secretly hoping that he can slowly mend your broken heart.

“I'll be nice to ya.” His hot breath hits your bare stomach, making your muscles tense up at the sensation, an unwilling shiver running up your spine at the tenderness of his words and actions, something he never showed you when he used to fuck you.

“Treat you like the proper angel y'are.” Simon's guilt is pushed to the back of his mind the moment his lips plant against your clothed mound, his calloused hand going up to your stomach to gently push you down the moment your back arches, wanting to keep you nice and still for him. To take care of your needs, for once.

Simon is a patient man. A patient man, who runs his warm, wet tongue over your clothed cunt, paying especial attention to your hardened clit, only making the knot in your stomach tighten by the second, fingers lacing on his short blond hair, pulling him closer. The display of pure neediness makes Simon's lips tilt up into a small, soft smile despite himself.

His hands explore your soft legs, squeezing softly every once in a while just to reassure you that he's still there. That he's not going away for once. He can feel your muscles twitch beneath his palm, almost mirroring his neglected, throbbing cock.

Simon's warm hands sneak to the back of your thighs, subtly feeling up your ass with the pads of his fingers, slowly sinking into the fat and muscle before he's pulling your legs up, soft kisses planted on your pretty inner thighs, even going as far as to give them gentle love bites, knowing you don't care if he leaves marks— not when your slick is seeping through the fabric of your panties, ready as ever.

“Needy fuckin' girl.” His touch is as gentle as it could be for someone whose hands are used to responding with violence and aggression, sneaking up to the waistband of your panties, pulling down enough to reveal your glistening cunt, not minding how the black cloth was left neglected, hanging on your ankle.

Just like a man starved, Simon's wet tongue darts out of his mouth to give a long, sensual lick against your folds, savoring the taste of your slickness. His rough hands grip your hips to steady you, no longer minding the way your back arches from the pure pleasure he's giving you. He takes a second to admire the sight in front of him, his hot breath fanning against your cunt.

“Good girl.” His skilled, hungry tongue delves between your folds, lapping at your wetness with a need that matches your own. He explores every single inch of your pussy, his tongue flickering and swirling over your hard, swollen clit. His free hand reaches up to fondle one of your tits, his fingers digging into the fat as he devours you.

Simon's hips rock softly against the mattress, looking for any sort of possible relief for his hard, throbbing cock, neglecting it until he can't handle it, hesitantly letting go of your sweet cunt, crawling on top of you and caging you in with his strong, muscular arms. Your soft hand goes to his tattooed arm out of pure muscle memory, earning you a small smirk back.

“You want it, angel? This fat fuckin' cock inside you?” His hips jerk involuntarily, a low groan escaping his lips as he feels the familiar heat pooling in his abdomen, his hand going down to his zipper out of habit, lowering it just enough to pull out his cock— until he realizes that he promised to make love to you, not to fuck.

With slight hesitation in his movements, Simon gets up from the bed, brown eyes watching your reaction with such focus you'd think he's a predator ready to pounce on its prey... and in a way, he is.

His chest rises and falls heavily as he starts to discard his clothes until he's completely bare and vulnerable, something he's never done before for anyone. The way your gaze softens as your eyes examine his scars almost makes him want to put his clothes back on— to leave and to never come back. Simon doesn't deserve your empathy, not when he keeps making you cry, yet he swallows his discomfort back down, his body resting on top of yours, lifting himself up with his arms.

“Y'always take me so well, don't you?” Simon teases in a whisper, his breath hot against your ear. The sound of your wetness mingling with his leaking tip fills the room, dragging a small whine out of you as he teases your entrance for a few seconds, his eyes on yours the moment he sinks into you, giving you time to get used to his thickness before starting to push in deeper, a low groan leaving his lips the moment he hits your sensitive, spongy cervix.

Simon leans down, his lips pressing against yours as he starts to thrust into your needy, sopping cunt, every single inch of him stretching you out like you were made for him. A small shiver runs down his spine when your hand goes up and down his back, caressing the scars from the torture he suffered at the hands of Roba. He pushes the bitter sensation away, putting his entire focus on the feeling of your tongue wrapping around his, tiny strings of saliva staining the corners of your soft lips.

He pulls you closer, his grip possessive yet still so gentle and tender, his touch becoming more intimate. Simon buries his face on the crook of your neck, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your soft, warm skin.

“Y'like this, princess?” He rolls his hips against yours, pushing himself as deep as possible into your pussy.

“Bet my mates could fuck you better.” Simon silences your protests with a quick kiss, thrusting faster into you just so you become willing to hear him out.

“Could treat ya better, too.” His forehead leans against yours, staring deep into the pleading look you're giving him, silently begging him to stop talking about it— to love you, begging for something he can't give you even if he were to force himself.

“My captain's a good man. Y'like older men, don't ya?” His breath is hot against your cheek, his eyes finally screwing shot as your cunt tightens around him at the mention of Price, a low, deep groan making its way out of his throat.

“'Course you do.” He says with a small chuckle, planting tender kisses all over your cheeks, feeling your breath against his face as more whiny, needy moans leave your lips, your velvety walls tightening around his hard cock.

Simon's back bends slightly as he rests his cheek against your chest, your fast-beating heart giving him a slight sense of comfort he's never found anywhere else. His thrusts grow more desperate— faster and deeper, feeling your tits vibrate with each loud moan you're letting out, pretty legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer.

“My pretty girl.” Even if he's just playing pretend, the words coming out of Simon's lips feel right, his thumb massaging your cheek while he admires you from beneath him, looking just like an angel. Part of Simon pities you, knowing that he'll never be able to love you back, but he can keep pretending for as long as you need.

The knot in your stomach starts to slowly come undone with every single thrust, feeling his meaty cock throb inside you. Your head leans back against the pillow, pretty eyes closing as you allow the illusion of love to set in— to imagine what it's like to be loved by someone like Simon, to get fucked like this daily, with such tenderness and care.

Simon can feel your walls gripping him harder, only encouraging him to slam his hips against yours the way he knows you love it, the upwards curve on his veiny cock allowing him to hit your spongy cervix over and over, low groans and loud pants escaping his lips. His grip tightens around your waist, fingers digging into the skin as he gets closer to the edge, his heavy balls tightening.

Simon lets out a shaky breath as you hold him closer to your sweaty body by the waist, the arch of your back allowing both of your hearts to be against the other's, both beating wildly with the heat of the moment. His face goes back to the crook of your neck as he lets out a loud, throaty moan as he spills his hot cum into you, riding out your orgasms, feeling your tight cunt grip him like vice.

He waits a few seconds before slowly pulling out of you, cupping your cheek just to have those pretty eyes look up at him with nothing but pure trust and love— so lovely, so pure, so untainted, unlike him. He lays down next to you, wrapping his burly arms around you and bringing your exhausted body against his, cuddling you up.

He plants gentle kisses all over your pretty face, basking in the afterglow of the intense love-making, admiring you like you're a piece of art... and truly, in Simon's eyes, you are. His phone vibrates against your bedside table, reaching out for it and letting out a small sigh at the message. Duty calls, and unfortunately, Simon can't get out of a deployment, even when part of his heart stays with you.

“My mates need me for a mission.” He says softly, planting one last kiss on your forehead before getting up from bed, putting his military-provided clothes back on. He stares at the sticky notes on your desk, giving you a small glance before leaning down and writing something on it, ripping the paper away from the rest and putting it down on your bedside table so you won't forget.

“'S my captain's number. Give 'im a call, yeah? He'll answer.” He promises, not daring to leave until you give him a small nod in confirmation, shooting you one last glance before leaving your room, the entrance door slamming shut soon after.

Your already teary eyes stare at the number written down on the sticky note, looking more enticing by the second.

John Price.

[shotmrmiller]

just a drabble

prompt for this was how terrible reader is to even acknowledge texts that reader's date is doomed but im pretty sure i lost the plot drooling over a crazy fictional man but hey! it is what it issss.

TW: obsessive behavior, controlling, and baby trapping.

Toxic!Simon was possessive over you. He knew who you spoke to — always knew of your whereabouts. So when you told him you wanted to break up two months ago, Simon humored you; After all, he always kept you within arm’s reach.  However, after he saw you getting ready for a ‘date’, it seemed that you were under the impression that this was not temporary. 

And that was unacceptable.

—-----------------------------

Simon watches you eat dinner with a guy— having a lively conversation before eventually getting up to leave with your companion in tow. Simon sends a text, pockets his phone, and rises from the bar in the restaurant directly across from the one you'd eaten at— before heading towards his truck.

It’s time he moved you back in with him—  especially now that you’re in a more delicate state.

With the secret cameras he had installed in your flat some time ago, he always kept an eye on you. But last month, Simon had noted the absence of your menses — meaning the seed that had leaked through the tiny punctures he had made in the condoms finally took.

He offhandedly wonders if you’d get upset with him over this, but ultimately it didn’t matter. It was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission, after all.

—---------------------------

You step through the door as your date holds your hand, fingers intertwined. You turn to him and softly say, “I’m going to get some water if you don’t mind. Make yourself at home.”

Agreeing with a nod, he politely asks if he can use your bathroom. You direct him towards the bedroom door and proceed to the kitchen. Setting your belongings on the countertop, you reach into your purse to grab your phone.

As you glance through all the notifications, you recall a time when Simon pointed out your bad habit of never responding to texts, warning you that it could cause problems— 

And then you see it. A text from Simon.

Gripping your phone tightly, a sense of dread consumes you. Your finger taps the screen, and as you read his message, you come to a chilling realization.

Simon saw you at dinner.

A loud bang startles you. As you turn to look, you suspect that the noise may have been from the front door, but no one’s there. You cautiously tread through your flat, calling out for your date— while desperately hoping that the sound you just heard was a figment of your imagination. 

Entering the bedroom, your eyes meet Simon's as he lounges on the bed. Despite the relaxed position of his arms crossed behind his head, his unnerving stare reveals that he is far from calm.

The silence in the room is oppressive, and the rapid beat of your heart in your ears deafening. He moves to stand in front of you and says, “I was more than generous in granting you this break but it ends now.” 

He takes a step forward, standing tall over you, and grabs your chin with his fingers almost cruelly.

“You. are. mine.”

With a quivering breath, you ask Simon what he did to your date (aint your date no more, though) and Simon just shrugs— making you wonder if his body will be found face down in some ditch come morning.

Simon envelops you in a tight embrace, causing you to surrender all control as you lean helplessly into him. He effortlessly manipulates your every move, like a master puppeteer with his marionette.

His arms once shielded you from the outside world; Now they’re confining— his makeshift cage for you. 

a/n: make a mental note to tell Simon that you’ve a doctor appt for the stomach bug that's been plaguing you for a while.

id have all of his babies, like no sweetheart now you're stuck with me.

@luminousbeings-crudematter

@ivymarquis

@neoarchipelago <- gotchu

[tojisun]

cw: manipulation/toxic behaviour

you "cheat" on simon once and he's forcibly uprooting you from your old life to keep you closer to him — making it so that you're fired from your job, doing something that gets you kicked out of your flat, and even isolating you from your friends and family so you could only ever depend on him.

you tell him it's not even cheating since the two of you went on a break. hell, he had been the one to ask for it, so why is he the one angry now?

but simon is unfazed; he is immovable. he already envisioned a life where you're his stay-at-home wife, waiting for him and needy for him, living for him, so there's not a single chance in hell that he'd let you go again.

("so? it worked?" johnny asks, sloshing his whiskey in his glass.

simon grunts. "thanks for helpin' out, johnny."

johnny shrugs and tips the remaining alcohol into his mouth and down his throat, before saying, "no problem at all, LT. would fuck 'er again if you'd let me."

he gives simon a wide smile, his face all flushed from the bourbon. simon just rolls his eyes at him, but his silence says it all — johnny might just have another chance.)

[parkersbliss]

I just read your story with American!reader and I loved it. It made me want to see the all the 141 boys maybe reacting to Reader saying “I wish British people were real” as a joke they saw on TikTok. I love your writing💗💗

you anons that request stuff are on something bc your ideas are so good??? thank you I love YOU

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x American!reader 

warnings: gaz and ghost is mildy suggestive, um price asking if you're dumb, that's it I think

a/n: life would be so much better if British people were real man

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for call of duty!

—

Ghost:

Simon was painfully British. That much was obvious to anyone who met and got a word out of him. His accent was thick, intertwined with every word that essentially screamed “I am British” in your face. You would be a liar if you said it wasn’t part of the initial attraction to him. The deep grave voice, mixed with a foreign accent. Yeah, you were easy like that. 

And Simon, despite his thick accent, wasn’t a patriotic man. Sure, he cheered for his sports team, measured in metrics, wore the flag patch during combat, etc. but he wasn’t in your face about his nationality. None of that “My country is better than yours” toxic patriotism. Still, that didn’t mean there weren’t things you poked fun at him for. The tea obsession, the way he said certain words, the lack of flavor in some of the food. 

You had your grievances against Britain. So when Simon was watching the news with you on the couch, the news reporter accent heavy across the room, you get an idea. 

With a sigh, you lean back. “Man, I wish British people were real.” 

Simon turns to face you, quirking a brow. “What?”

“I wish British people were real,” You repeated, pointing at the Newscaster. “It’s obviously a fake accent.” 

“What the bloody hell are you on about?” 

You suppress a laugh as you give him a blank stare. “They’re so funny, the accents. I wish they were real, that’s all.” 

Simon narrows his eyes at you, fingers brushing across your shoulder from the arm slung across the back of the couch. “I wish Americans were real.” 

“Me too,” You agree as Simon rolls his eyes. 

“You think you’re funny, hm?” 

“I think I’m hilarious,” You corrected him as he shifted you to sit in his lap. 

“‘M gonna start calling you an American bimbo if you keep spewing such bullshit.” 

You tap your chin in fake thought. “I bet you’d be into that.” 

Simon scoffs, hands moving to your hips. “Glorified idiocy? I think not.” 

You put on a valley girl accent, twirling your hair as you blink rapidly at him. “Oh, my god! You are so hot.” 

“Stop.” 

“Like totally bangable.” 

Simon’s face is turning red as you laugh manically. “You’re done,” he said, lips meeting yours to shut you up. 

“I knew you were into it.”

“Shut. Up.”

Gaz: 

You sat with your back to Kyle’s chest, his chin resting on your shoulder as his hands rested under your shirt. You’re idly scrolling on Tiktok, letting him watch because, really, he was a girl at heart too. Grocery hauls? Organizing my makeup? Day in my life? He was sat. He presses feather-light kisses to your neck occasionally as your thumb swipes across the screen. 

It’s another of many influences doing a grocery haul, and you both pause to watch it. Her accent is light, but still obviousas she pronounces words like blueberries, brekkie, and other British slang. 

You had gotten mostly familiar with it living with Kyle in London, but the accents here were much lighter compared to up north. 

You frown at the video. “I wish British people were real. They’re so funny.” 

“Excuse me?” Kyle asked, pulling his chin off your shoulder to look at you. 

“The accent? The slang? The Chinese food?” You list out. “It’s such a good running joke. Such a shame they’re not real.” 

Kyle’s lips pulled into their signature scowl. “What the fuck am I then?” 

“An ongoing joke?”

Kyle snorts at that. “What the hell, love? You’re taking the piss, right?” 

You shake your head. “See. I know your secret. I don’t get why you insist on still using such British phrases.” 

“I am British,” Kyle said slowly. 

“And I’m George Washington,” You counter. “No point in hiding it.” 

“Love,” he starts gently. That was the best thing about Kyle. He was always so kind and gentle with you. His hands move up and down your sides. “British people are real.”

“I don’t think so.” 

“So what was the American Revolution?” 

“Staged.” You’re testing his patience, wondering exactly when he would either give up or pull up the evidence that Britain was real. 

“Please tell me you’re kidding.” 

His tone of voice strained, and his brown eyes pleading with you. You feel a little bad, stressing him out, so you relent. “I am, baby.” 

He exhales in relief, head falling back to the crook of your neck. “Jesus Christ.”

“Do you think I’m that stupid?” You ask, leaning into him a bit more. 

“Well—” 

“If you wanna get laid tonight think about your answer.” 

“I think if you thought British people weren’t real, it’s a common misconception.” 

You giggle, turning to face him and kissing him gently as he pushes you to the bed. “Good answer.”  

Soap: 

Johnny was a passionate man. He is passionate about his work, his hair, his partner, and his country — as in Scotland.Great Britain was fine too, but he didn’t like being looped in with the British. He made an exception for work though, wearing the flag patch with pride. And occasionally tolerating his British brothers. However, back at home, your front porch has the Scotland flag hanging from it, and he had plenty of blankets of it and sports teams hanging around in the house. Yes, Johnny was a passionate man. And if you gave him the chance to poke some fun at the British, oh, he’d take it. 

“You know, it’s really cool you’re able to find someone who sells all this Scottish merch.” You’re pretending to look at the mug in your hand with some Scottish phrase on it that’s white and blue.

Johnny turns to face you, spatula in hand. “I got it from the coffee shop down the street.”

You nod. “Yeah, that’s really cool they sell this stuff.” 

His brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

You set the mug down on the table, crossing your arms on the counter. “Well, you know, because Scotland isn’t real, but they still—” 

“What did you just say?” 

“Scotland isn’t real?” 

He drops the spatula turning to you with crossed arms. “Yes, it is.” 

“But like the national animal is a unicorn, and unicorns aren’t real…” 

“The national animal is a unicorn because it represents how Scotland is unyielding and remains unconquered.” 

“But I didn’t learn about it in geography.”

“You’re American,” Your boyfriend deadpans. “You only learn the states and the other world powers.” 

You sigh, cupping your chin in your hands. “It would just be nice that Scottish people are real with their silly little accents.”

Johnny drags a hand down his face. “How are we having this conversation? The Kingdom of Scotland emerged in the 9th century, and in 1707 they joined to form Great Britain…” 

That’s how you ended up with a history lesson about Scotland as Soap continues cooking dinner for you both. And you weren’t complaining, after all, with how passionate he was about reciting the history of his home, cooked in a kiss-the-chef apron in your Scotland theme house, what was there to complain about? 

Especially when he sets the plate of food down in front of you, kisses you softly, and says he loves you. Oh yeah, you believed in Scotland. 

Price:

Your husband was a straightforward man, something you had always admired about him. If he didn’t like something (or did) he would tell you. It’s part of what makes him a great captain, that ability to give it you how it is.

Of course, when it came to you, he did turn it down just a bit. If the meat you cooked was a little burnt, that’s okay, he’lleat it. If you prank him by trying some soup with a secret spoonful of salt, his face will give it away despite the “mmm SO good” he attempted to utter. Yes, John tried very hard to not hurt your feelings. It was the next best quality you loved about him. But like anyone else, he has his limits. 

So when you’re both laying in bed, John reading a book as you watch your favorite cooking show, you get an idea. 

They were going over the best way to cook a beef Wellington, a British classic, but not one you particularly cared for. 

“Honey?” You ask. 

Your husband closes his book, moving his reading glasses up. “Yes?” 

“Do you ever wish British people were real?”

There’s a moment of silence before your husband sighs deeply, opening his book once more. 

“It was a genuine question,” You continue.

“Here’s a genuine answer: are you stupid?” He glances at you over the top of his book and sees the smile breaking across your face. 

You can’t help the giggle that falls from your lips. “No.”

“Why do you find such joy in tormenting your husband? Gonna give me a heart attack one day.” 

“Stress is good for the body,” You reply. “I’m just making sure you’re healthy. Gotta keep you on your toes.” 

Your husband drops his book once more, gathering you in his arms. “You’re doing a wonderful job, dear.” 

You lean your head on his chest, hearing the deep rumble in his chest as his arm wraps around you. He’s warm as always, like a furnace radiating heat deep in the winter, just in the form of a personified grizzly bear. 

“Soap would like that joke,” Your husband muses. 

“Think I should try it on him?”

John brushes a piece of hair out of your face as you look up at him. “Without a doubt.” 

– END –

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[lost-time-memery]

I really don't wanna see anyone talking about Betty as if she was a "poor little misguided girl" that had to sacrifice her whole life for a man.

She was her own character and made her own decisions during the whole show! Yes, jumping through the portal basically doomed her life, but it was HER DECISION.

I'm not saying it was a good thing for her, being impulsive and reckless is a very consistent flaw to her character, as well as being passive and inattentive to her self destructive behavior was a flaw to Simon! Their relationship had flaws like any other would, but they loved and admired each other the exact same amount! (Simon went back in time to apologize and say goodbye to her, while Betty refused to accept his loss and tried to go back in time to change the future, he was more willing to let her go AT FIRST)

I'm also devastated that Betty got such a tragic ending, but the important thing is that SHE ACTIVELY CHOSE HER FATE. And she did not regret it.

SHE CHOSE TO STAY WITH SIMON AND NOT GO ON THAT TRIP

SHE CHOSE TO JUMP THROUGH THAT PORTAL

SHE CHOSE TO TRY TO FIX THE CROWN EVEN WHEN SIMON BEGGED HER TO STOP

SHE CHOSE TO STAY BEHIND AND MAKE HER LAST WISH

(I'm also a little bit disappointed with the fionna and cake finale, the way they handled Simon's character development was kinda underwhelming, but seeing people treat Betty like the ultimate victim makes me a lil bit upset... SHE WAS SUPER PROACTIVE)

I'm not trying to romanticize her toxic traits, being this obsessed with someone is not healthy, but at the same time... In a show with world ending monsters and interdimentional beings and telepathic war elephants, the fate of the world in both AT and FaC depending on a normal human woman that just loved someone SO MUCH is so beautiful...

It's PAINFULLY bittersweet but also immensely true to the nature of human beings. 🥲

[cntloup]

a relationship with simon would be mellow and quiet.

of course it would have its own turbulences, but for the most part it's silent.

there are no big gestures or loud words, but soft murmurs and tender touches.

he's always got a protective hand on you when you're out and about, not out of toxic jealousy or anything like that. he's too mature for that. he's confident and he trusts you.

he does it to keep you safe, so no creep would even dare throw a wrong glance at you, let alone get too close or touchy and make you uncomfortable.

it also comes from the need to feel you at all times. he needs to make sure you’re still there and you haven't vanished from his life, turned to dust like all the good things have in his life.

he always keeps an eye on you especially outside when you're going about your business, perusing around different shops at the mall.

it comes from his protectiveness, also from his flaming love for you that engulfs his heart. he simply can't take his eyes off you, his gaze softened and adoring as he looks at you being happy and giggly when you find something that you like.

he always keeps you safe in a quiet way, but you feel it. you always feel safe in his presence.

all his love and devotion seep through his actions, even the littlest ones.

he makes sure you’re always stocked up on all your favorite food, beauty products etc. and always is there to keep you from hurting yourself clumsily. all in all, he always tries his best to make your life easier.

he quietly shuffles under the blanket when he returns late at night and whispers 'i love you' before kissing the crown of your head and pulling your body closer to his, fully flushed against him. and he sighs in relief, he's home.

now don't get me wrong when i say mellow and quiet. it can still be intense at times.

especially the ugly parts that you both try to avoid, but can't help as it seeps through the corners of your relationship anyway.

he needs his space when he returns home from a deployment. and you've learned that the hard way.

he's lashed out at you from time to time. even though he had fought hard with himself to keep that side away from you.

and a heavy silence settles in the room after the shouting and occasionally throwing stuff have taken place.

not the comfortable silence you're used to when you're together, but a thick, suffocating atmosphere.

he starts cursing and grappling with himself after slamming the door to his office shut.

and you curl into yourself on the couch while uncontrollable sobs escape you and you feel paralyzed by his venom.

that's exactly what he was trying to avoid all along, all throughout your relationship. he tried so hard to keep that part of himself away from you, from poisoning you as he interprets in his mind, but to no avail. the demons won. and he can never forgive himself for letting them.

but that's where he was wrong. you tried to convince him that he doesn't need to hide any part of him from you. you love him and you love him entirely, all of him.

even though he still needs his alone time as everyone does, he tries to open up more and talk to you about what haunts him instead of bottling it up to the point of explosion and taking it out on you.

and you've encouraged him to attend therapy again and promised him that you will be there every step of the way with absolutely anything he needs. and of course he accepts. for you and himself. for his family.

[bluegiragi]

In regards to the monster cast’s orientations. I politely ask, how the heck did Price and Simon’s desires to be tops work in that temporary relationship of theirs? Did they rock paper scissors to see whose turn it is? I am very genuinely curious how they decide. Also find it very cute that Rudy likes to boss Alejandro in the bedroom.

well, in the monster!au specifically, Price and Ghost got together shortly after the incident with Roba. It left them both permanently scarred and they kinda latched onto each other in the direct aftermath. Simon, who had lived his entire life as a human until then and was now grappling with being an unstable smoke monster, was feeling glaringly vulnerable. Price, who was now down one wing and was feeling that impact no matter how much he tried to work past it, recognised Simon as "hoard" and in turn was overcompensating for that.

In summary, Simon needed someone in that moment to take charge and Price needed a way to reassert his dragon-hood to himself. Their relationship was toxic and codependent before the brass recognised what was happening and sent Price out into the field before they wanted to, just so they could separate the two. Their feelings for each other levelled out with time, and they sometimes revive the fling for old time's sake, but it's a lot more understated now.

in regards to non-monster-aus? i fully believe that Price is just Simon's exception. That's his captain, and he's an attack dog. There's a certain dynamic that comes with this (and i eat that shit up every time)