#wish simon headcanons

[little-fan-stories]

Hello 👋🏼 I’m the one who sent in the ask. It’s ok 👌🏼 these things happen (happens more to me than I am proud of). I was just asking for some of your headcanons about Simon. I also said that my headcanon was that Simon has nightmares of when he betrayed Asha and almost attacking her. He hasn’t gotten much sleep due to the fact. His friends slowly figure it out and help I’m any way they can. (It’s based off a fanfic I’m reading)

Sorry for the wait, hope you'll like it! I really loved writing these

I totally based it on your headcanon that Simon has nightmares about what he has done to Asha

So warning : angst

Also it ended up being more of a mix between headcanons and a fic

Warning movie spoilers :

the first weeks after what happened, he was isolating himself

even if his friends said he was forgiven he was still felling very bad for it

when they understood that, it became their mission to make him feel included and to show him he didn't had to be sorry

of course Gabo teased him about it, calling him a big villain or stuff like that

Simon was annoyed by that but didn't dare saying anything as he was still feeling like a traitor

when Gabo understood his teasing was taken too seriously by Simon, he stopped and found something less problematic to tease him about (without apologizing of course)

the all group tried to organize little events between them to cheer him up with the excuse that they all needed a break from their work

they were trying to not make it obvious their real goal was to help Simon

but of course they weren't really subtil

when Simon understood what was going on, it warmed his heart to see all of his friends trying their best to make him feel better and included

but even if it was going better with them, the nightmares were still there

nightmares where he was possessed by Magnifico, following Asha through the woods, then following each one of his friends, bringing them one by one to him, watching the king hurt them because of him...

that's usually when he wakes up, sweating, trembling, and starts to cry

except one night, where it was so much for him that he woke up screaming

a few minutes later, his friends knocked at the door and entered, worried for him

he couldn't hide how he was feeling anymore, and started to cry

no one said a word, they just gathered around him on the edges of his bed, and gave him a group hug, holding him until he was calmer

after that, they all went to Bazeema's hideout, puts load of blankets and pillows on the floor, brang their mugs with tea and hot cocoa and stayed here all night

they spend a big part of the night talking about what happened with Magnifico, trying to take it all out, to get things straight

they just needed to talk it all out, to be honest with each others

of course they were mad at Simon when he betrayed them, but also very confuse, but they understand his reasons and what's important is that he regrets

and they know he wouldn't intentionally hurt them, when he tried so he was possessed, it wasn't really him

after that, the conversation derived on other subjects, ending in a pillow fight

after that they were so tired, they all quickly fell asleep on the pile of blankets and pillows on the floor

after this night, the nightmares didn't stopped directly, but they were less and less frequent

and now everytime Simon has nightmares about what happened, he rethink about this night where he was surrounded by all his friends, and fall back asleep peacefully

[peapeapeapa]

My Seven Friends redesigns c:

This is how they look in my AU/headcanons

Their clothes are inspired by what culture I think they're from based on their names.

Gabo - Spaniard (since Rosa is set somewhere in Spain, I gave him a nicer Spanish tunic. He works in the Castle Kitchens so he shouldn't be able to afford it, but Bazeema made it for him for his birthday)

Hal - North African (gave her a dress because I don't like the trend where the darkest skinned girl is the most masculine)

Safi - Arabian (I didn't really change his clothes to match his culture. He just wears the coziest clothes he can find as long as they don't trigger his allergies. Bazeema is his sister in my hc, and she made his clothes for him to help with his easily irritable skin)

Dahlia - Taiwanese (I didn't change her clothes much, I liked her design. I gave her a bandanna because she placed her hands on top of her head while thinking and doesn't want to get flour in her hair)

Bazeema - Arabian (Bazeema and Safi are siblings, and Bazeema likes to reflect her culture more in her clothing than Safi does. She's a seamstress and works at her mother's shop, and made Safi's clothes for him to help with his allergies and irritable skin)

Simon O'Donohue - Irish (Simon is a Hebrew name, but O'Donohue is derived from an Irish name, and because that's his last name I'm going with that one. Because this is his Knight outfit, its just the one from the movie without any Irish influences)

Dario - German (Dario is an Italian name, but his mother named him that after already arriving at Rosas and seeing others with the name, liking it)

[granddaughterogg]

Simon Riley won't sit down and talk your feelings through with you.

But seeing that your mental health is in shambles, he'll quietly and effectively clean your whole house.

After hours of sitting aimlessly you've finally managed to unglue your unhappy ass from the couch. You find him smoking in the open kitchen window and that small act of consideration melts your heart. The sleeves of his henley are rolled up, exposing his tattoos. He's still wearing those rubber gloves.

You suppose that Ghost is used to having gloves on.

Apparently no one cleans stuff like a soldier does. You had no idea that your kitchen floor can even emit such luster.

"Jesus, Simon, you didn't have to do this..." you gasp, struck with a wave of guilt. It's your place and your own nasty, horrible, long overlooked mess after all.

He moves his masked face just enough to meet your gaze - and shrugs. With shoulders this wide, it's a Shrug with a capital S.

"Had to do somethin'."

Render art by Bey (@nxxlnn) / X (twitter.com).

[somecallmejohn]

Sleepy Rose headcanons cuz someone needs to come up with content for this ship I'm sailing on my own.

They know each other the longest

Simon fell for her first

As kids they'd often play pretend that Asha's a fairy princess and Simon's the brave knight saving her from the "beasts"(them basically being some random goats), but more often than not shed be the one saving him.

Before Simon gave away his wish and was more extroverted and outgoing they'd often go out together and just explore the areas outside the kingdom where Asha would take out her sketchbook and sketch out her surroundings and Simon would take a nap under the shadow of the nearest tree.

Asha has a handful of sketchbook pages filled with sketches of Simon sleeping in different positions and perspectives

While Asha has forgiven Simon for snitching on her to Magnifico, he hasn't and possibly won't for a long while

Despite Simon trying multiple times to confess his feelings to her, she was the one to end up doing it first.

Because Simon's mental health must be pretty shaky considering the whole brainwashing thing, she suggested him picking up horseriding again to help him clear his mind and even accompanies him in those sessions

[m-1-8]

Soap’s Journal If you asked, Soap would deny he has an obsession He’s just a good observer, that’s all

[negativecharm]

It's scary how I know it'll feel to kiss Ghost through his balaclava and I've never kissed anyone irl if that makes sense because of how much I daydream about it.

[xjulixred45x]

WISH: the power of Wishes (RE-IMAGINATION)

okay, I know that many people have already done this, but I want to make my own version of this and above all do my bit for Magnífico Stands (the only salvageable character in the entire movie) and instead of just using the original concepts of the work (which is great) i wanted to mix both the concepts that i liked from the final work and the discarded concepts. we'll see.

First of all, Magnifico would not be the villain, nor would Queen Amaya. Is it simply too much to ask for a king/queen who truly cares about their people in a sincere way and does not want to harm them? although there would be a fixed villain. But I'll leave it for later. Asha and her family remain the same, except that Asha never really considered the stories her father told her about the stars as something real and thought it was another way of referring to the Magnificent King's wishes. which encouraged more fanaticism for him. I think Asha would be more studious, not exactly a book eater, but someone who has many hyper fixations and wants to know absolutely everything about those topics that she is passionate about. which causes some distance between her and boys her age. I mean, his clumsiness is a little more justified (maybe he's even neuro divergent? but I'll leave it ambiguous). Thanks to this and her somewhat more theatrical personality (which we see at the beginning of the movie), Asha participates in various activities to help the inhabitants of Rosas. In this way we would be introduced to the utopian way of life of the kingdom and perhaps even to Asha's few friends. I think that of his group of friends the only relevant ones would be Daliah and MAYBE Simon. Daliah would have a disability that makes her use a crutch (as in one of the old concepts) and she is like a book worm, she and Asha probably met because they had many hyperfixations in common. Simon dreams of being a knight of the kingdom, so he and Asha bond by having similar goals and helping each other achieve them. (Asha and Daliah even help Simón train and encourage him 😭Simon helps Asha get jobs). In general they are a fairly united group. then the main plot of the movie begins, Asha wanting to be Magnífico's apprentice, BUT not because of her Grandpa! But she genuinely wants to use magic to make her family's life easier by being just her and her mother (they're not going to put a 90-year-old man to work) and take better care of them. message about family in your face. The entire At All Costs sequence occurs but with a different context, not only does Magnífico open up to Asha but she also opens up and tells the above, that since her father died she feels that she has to do something to improve the life of her family, take care of them as best you can. generating not only empathy on our part but also on Magnifico. thus becoming his official apprentice. (no, here there is no problem with returning the wishes or anything else, because probably having removed the filling it could be explained in more detail why several dangerous wishes should not be fulfilled.

As an extra fact: I like to think that desires can also disappear on their own when they are fulfilled without the need for Magnifico, simply to give it a little more weight)

Asha and her acquaintances are obviously very happy, and proceed to have certain interactions with Queen Amaya, perhaps just giving more lore about her and Magnifico (God knows we needed it) and even about the founding of Rosas itself and the Magic sistem.

I like to thing wish Sistem of Magic is a mix between The Owl House and Harry Potter.

This would be where the villain would be mentioned for the first time (mention, not appearance), who would be the one who destroyed the Old Village of Magnífico. For now I'll just call him Morgan (like, Morgan Le fay). and then there is the matter of the star. It seems to me that both Magnifico and Asha would be interested in this type of magic to prove ancient myths about stars, so they spend several weeks working on ways to "bring" a star to Magnifico's laboratory. First they study in depth Astronomy, alchemy, traditional magic and then they go to the attempts. **funny sequence of all the failed attempts to lower the star from the sky** I think there would come a time where Asha would even stay the night in the castle to be able to investigate Magnífico's books because her attempts failed and they are both super sleepless. There may even be a cute moment where Asha falls asleep in the castle so Amaya and Magnifico give her a blanket and pillow to make her comfortable (these two are so cute, I can't----) and Magnifico, searching for more books, ends up coming across the forbidden book. the book he took from his old town... that belonged to Morgan. Now, I imagined a whole Dr Jekyll and Ms Hyde-like sequence with this(this was so long i'm sorry) Magnífico tempted to use the book, but as soon as he remembers everything that that same book provoked, what that book TOOK FROM him, it goes away, but he starts to reflect, if it is really good to keep that reminder, that constant nightmare, if he does well. and then (perhaps due to lack of sleep or a materialization of the book) Morgan appears. mocking him, laughing at him, like do you really think you will ever be free from what HE did? from all the damage he caused? He will NEVER be free of it. and Magnifico obviously denies this! Morgan should be dead now, this is just a bad dream. but "Morgan" lets him know that as long as he lives he will always be "there." Magnifico only sees it as all the damage he caused, he lets him know, that when he can completely get rid of his book, there will be no trace of it. That he'll be forgotten. Morgan makes it clear that he will never leave him, THAT HE WILL STAY no matter what he says while he struggles with Magnifico for the book.

AND WHEN MAGNIFICO HAS THE BOOK IN HIS HANDS HE SEE IN HIS REFLECTION THAT HE HAS GREEN EYES WHILE MORGAN SAYS THAT HE WILL BLOOM LONG AFTER HE IS GONE IF HE DECIDES TO FOLLOW HIS PATH (use dangerous magic, the star)... Magnificent knows Morgan well, he needs him to survive, he is a PARASITE, he may not be able to control him, but he will definitely rejoice when he knows that Morgan took his last breath. TRAUMA TIME, "Morgan" showing Magnífico a hallucination of how he destroys 1- the kingdom of roses 2- its inhabitants and 3- AMAYA. f for Magnifico. Magnificent, he's had enough of this, he just curses Morgan one last time, sending him to hell and throwing his book into the fire, which rises above his castle with a green flame... MEANWHILE Asha, still half asleep, settles in as she thinks about her failure with the star again, as she looks out the window at the northern stars, and JUST out of habit, she wishes she wished she could have one of those, so she could help people. and ZASSS! Before she realizes it, a great light appears in the room that almost blinds her and when she regains her composure she is a small creature! What a magic dust! A funny moment that my sister came up with for the inclusion of Star Boy is that Asha gave the star a simple nickname "little guy" and the star decided to change shape back into His kind of human boy😅 In any case, Magnífico hears the confusion and, with his adrenaline high, runs to see Asha and discovers a fucking star boy in his palace. He's shocked, obviously, but now he's much more cautious than before (lack of sleep + ptsd). I think it would take a moment with Amaya to calm down a little, remind him that he is not Morgan and that he would never use magic to hurt its habitants, and to get some sleep (another Amaya moment x Magnifico YEY!) Anyway, Asha, Amaya and Magnifico trying to teach Star boy the basics of human culture while figuring out how exactly it works without being too invasive.

But Star Boy dosen't make it easy, being kind of a knew-it-all(a little arrogant?), messing up some of the tries of Magnífico and Asha of get test material. Things like that.

I don't Even think he knows how frágile humans are at the Start, so it would take a little...incident to make him realize that. But definitely flying dust would be something fun 😝 I think Asha would have several moments with Star Boy showing her the kingdom of Rosas, just trying to use his magic for good and teach him human things.

But at the same time is hard with Someone who's never been with humans before, so when he tries to do something that Asha thinks is "good for the people" Star Boy misunderstand and end up doing something wrong, like grouwing too much the tries to the point the people can't reach them to get fruit, turn the water in ice for fun, etc. Her friends join in! but at the same time I think that some (especially Dalilah) would feel half done by having a new new person in the group (who is literally from another world).

Daliah Even Starts ti believe that Star Boy could be kind of dangerous, specially if she ever sees him mad, he literally is making a disaster without intention, what would happen if he DOES have intention?

But Asha tries to ressur her that Star Boy is not malicous, but just naive, and unexpefienced, and he's trying to learn! Trying to be better.

It would be Even better if Someone endup hurt or Asha almost gets hurt so Star Boy Star to realize, well, MORTALITY, and tries to make up what he did wrong And control better His own Magic. With the proper support ofc. which causes Daliah to distance herself a little while Asha and Star boy have their well-deserved romance (at all cost reprise? at all cost reprise) and Simon continues training hard to be a knight.

Daliah feels insecure around Star Boy, even if he is more careful and empathetic now, she definitely got the impression that his magic is dangerous, but does she feel guilty for distrusting Asha like that, for feeling jealous? so he is going to reflect alone.. That's when he runs into Morgan, probably while on the outskirts of Rosas. and in a certain way when they meet they have some worrying interactions. Morgan gets Daliah to tell him that she feels insecure about her friendship with someone and the whole thing, that she feels like someone is dangerous but they don't believe her, etc. Morgan, with a master's degree in Manipulation, tells her something personal to gain her trust, how he used to be seen as similar to where he came from, how he took refuge and distanced himself from everyone because he didn't fit in, how he had to find his own way of standing out, like her. It sounds like a very Evil Like me moment to me. I mean, Morgan manipulating Dalilah in an emotional moment by being passive aggressive and at the same time being "empathetic." You may even not only try to convince him to see his friends differently, but also his desires. Doesn't that seem archaic to you? Don't you think that having someone who fulfills your desires is something horribly selfish? Like? Are people going to learn if there is no pain involved? (a philosophy...valid, but taken to the extreme) Thanks to this, Daliah begins to hang out with her friends less, but with Star Boy around, they don't realize it at first. Star Boy and Asha do some experiments with their magic for Rosas' benefit, with good results, Magnifico is even being friendlier with him and not as tense. everything seems to be going well... but then Magnifico notices that some wishes have... disappeared. and in the distance, you can see a light on the outskirts of Rosas... a green light... oh no, no no no no- it has to be a mistake- a coincidence- The scene is made where help is sought from the town to find the traitor who stole the wishes, the people are worried, and they are attentive. Asha and Star Boy are confused: why would someone steal the wishes if only Magnifico can fulfill them? There is no way to know who it was? How could he get into the palace? Daliah seems especially distressed, it almost seems like she wants to approach Queen Amaya to tell her something. but at the last moment he decides not to and runs away. Asha and Star Boy get worried and go after her, following her through Rosas until they reach the outskirts of the kingdom. and that's when they see it. Morgan. He has his mirror scepter, Daliah is in front of him, tired from running.

Morgan has several orbs around him, stained and withered, it takes Asha a second to realize they are WISHES. THE LOST WISHES, HE WAS INFECTING THEM..

Now, two possible ways this could end. one attached to the film, another more of my own interpretation. The one attached to the movie is that, Morgan uses his powers augmented by wishes and manages to temporarily absorb Star Boy, and with his powers he manages to keep the entire kingdom of Rosas under his thumb. even Mangifico (maybe controlling it and only true love's kiss can break it?). but Asha, using what Magnifico taught her, manages to make a collective spell to summon the star and thus weaken Morgan, allowing the wishes to leave him and Star Boy using his powers/Magnifico to lock him in the mirror of his scepter. My own interpretation would be that Morgan would rather use people's fears, using their Wishes as a base, infecting them and in a certain way controlling them (and taking away vitality from the people of Rosas). that is the source of the power of evil, fear and ignorance. Then the people of Rosas, seeing that they are all weakened and that the wishes make Morgan stronger, decide to give the remaining wishes to Magnifico and Asha, so that they can recover and be able to face Morgan. Just saying that not only do they not need the physical desire for it to be fulfilled, but they will work to make it happen all together, now the COLLECTIVE desire is to defeat the villain. and thus they manage to give a Power Up to both Asha and Magnifico to fight with Morgan and thus free Star Boy, who similarly ends up locking Morgan in the mirror forever. In the end there is almost no wish left intact, Rosas is a mess, but now they have a new aura of optimism, of desire to try, to work to improve, the people decide to help with their own hands instead of just using magic. There could be a time skip for when Rosas is completely rebuilt, there could be more equity in magical and non-magical users, people no longer depend so much on their desires and work as a team with the few sorcerers there are to make everything better. Asha is Magnifico's official successor, so she is crowned princess of Rosas. while Amaya and Mangifico teach new, younger magic users. Simon is a guard, Dahlia found a way to feel complete in her own way (maybe working with Asha's mom) Star Boy and Asha together, as well as Amaya and Magnifico. In general the message would be that there are dreams that are selfish and that can lead to destruction, that should not be pursued. While there are dreams that are sincere but you have to work for them, everything you can, even if you need help to fulfill them, it is up to YOU to make it happen. and like that, this story is over. END

Shares, reglogs and comments are very welcome!

This was by long shot the LARGEST work i Ever done, but i hope You guys like it.

[toaverse]

Have some headcanons about the teens

After Asha and Dahlia became friends, they met Hal. And the three girls quickly became friends.

Safi and Bazeema were also friends from a young age.

Simon wanted to be a knight because his father was one himself, wanting to follow in his footsteps.

Safi sees the chickens as his friends and takes care of them to cope with isolation and loneliness.

Almost all of them often clash due to their respective cultures and faiths.

Hal often gets flack from other girls and women (and sometimes Bazeema) for wearing pants instead of a dress.

Gabo is a disappointed optimist.

Dario has at least some mental disability, thus why he doesn't work yet.

Simon, Bazeema and Gabo weren't born in Rosas.

[sysig]

Okay so I’m deeply on nightbrain rn but I’m having a lot of Thoughts about Winter King (again)

[ask-the-7t]

Since I didn't give you any art today, have some headcanons!

Hal:

She taps her feet while plays the guitar, much to Gabo’s annoyance

Her last name is Joyous

Boomer number one

Some men often call her ‘Hot Mama’ or ‘Milf’, show what did she do? She responds in kind by punching their face. (Don’t be a mega perv)

She was Gabo and Bazeema’s bestie!

Safi:

He sniffs while wiping his nose

His last name is Coldfever (he has a cold OR a fever)

His sneezes of doom clears everything off!

He was kind to Bazeema.

Bazee gave him a pair of white gloves so that he could stay warm

Dario:

Whistle in communication

He and Bazeema are the same age (But they’re definitely not twins)

His last name is Lovelock

His cuteness makes everyone agree

Bazeema:

She plays extreme Peek-a-Boo (true to her last name, Peepaboo)

When she’s done Prince Miguel’s request, she’ll give him a kiss on the cheek

She was Hal and Gabo’s bestie!

She blushes and gets absolutely flibberty-gibberty when she’s around Prince Miguel (told by Gabo)

She and Dario are the same age (But they’re still not twins)

She has different personas (The Bizzare Bazee, Agent Bazee e.g)

Boomer number two

Has a Euria Sin-like singing voice

She suffers a panic attack when her hat is removed in front of people

Whenever she moves, the bells jingle

She curtsies pleasingly, due to her bashfulness

Faints when Prince Miguel’s name is mentioned

Dahlia:

Her crimson ribbon under her hat is inspired by the 1966 Matilda Wormwood (btw her ribbon is given by her mother)

Her personality is intelligent (true to her last name, Inteliance)

She makes gadgets and gizmos a plenty!

She and Gabo have the same age

Simon:

He dreams of being a knight, an honest-to-goodness one.

When he wakes up, he’ll have to stay up

The oldest of the bunch

Sleepwalks (true to his last name, Snoozous, along with O’Donohue)

Gabo:

He was Bazeema and Hal’s bestie

Boomer number three

Number one cheese lover!

The last name is Sternius

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[mrsparrasblog]

Tf 141 and their kinks 

Price: Breeding kink 100%; he loves fucking you raw even when you take the pill. "Going to fill you up, nice Love" "going to fuck my baby into your cunt" calls you very often Mrs. Price, while fucking even when you aren't married yet. 

Daddy Kink: He always thought it was weird until you looked at him with dear eyes as your legs lay on his shoulders. "Please, Daddy, make me cum," and he was lost. God, he loves the power he holds, but also how well he takes care of you. John Price is the King of Aftercare; I stand by that. He is the perfect Daddy—rough but a sensual lover.

Gaz: cuckolding God, he loves watching you get fucked by someone else (especially the captain). He always sits like a good boy in the corner and strokes his hard cock lazily; he can't do it too fast since he cums in seconds. 

Another kink of his is fucking you in public, car, cinema, pool, and changing room. Name it; you did it. He especially loves the nights when you have these cute sundresses on and you're sitting in a restaurant, trying so hard not to moan while his long fingers work you open. He insists on walking you home instead of taking an Uber. "If you didn't want it, love, you wouldn't have worn that filthy sundress." He loves free access, and who are you to deny a wish to your pretty boy? 

Gaz is the best cook out of your whole team; he always experiments with different foods, so don't wonder when there is a bit of cream or frosting on your body and he licks it clean; it's only right to taste your own creations, right?

Soap: Don't judge me, but I think he has a lactating kink like that. The boy gets off on sucking on your nipples, even though you aren't even lactating. He is whining and begging like a sweet mess. Bonus points if you call him a good boy. 

Bondage: He is a switch, so you got shackled in ropes on the bed, unable to move as he edges you for hours until a slow breeze of air on your clit makes you cum undone. 

Bonus: I think he would be open to a foot fetish. He never thought he would be, but one day you put your feet on his clothed cock as a joke, and he squirmed like never before.

Ghost: Somnophila: Of course, only with consent, because he would never do something against your will. But, God, you look so sweet and innocent when you sleep. You even feel better when your mind doesn't think about how you look or how you sound—he loves fucking you awake. How your eyes open when you orgasm—his version of breakfast in bed—eating you out like a starved man until you're awake.

He loves a little breathplay on both ends; he loves choking you with his massive cock and how you gag and cry, but even more when you sit on his face, he would die between your legs, so you need to make sure not to suffocate him.

A hidden kink he never thought he had was when you rubbed yourself on his boots and he cums untouched in several seconds. Simon was embarrassed at first; you needed to reassure him that it's hot and nothing to be embarrassed about. 

Just a random thought again, lol. I know Ghost's kinks are almost fanon, but I wanted to give him different kinks that fit more with my headcanon of Ghost because I don't think he is a sadist; he is definitely strong enough and has tried it, but I think he also loves his Reader way too much and is afraid of hurting them.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Things Simon Loves About You

Warnings: Fluff <3, Cosy Headcanons, Simon Being a Hypothetical Animal Crossing Enthusiast, Jealous! Simon :3, Simon Being the Best Boyfriend, Spoilers for Simon’s Backstory, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

He’s secretly enamoured with the way you’ll gently pluck a fallen eyelash from his face and tell him to make a wish on it. The first time it happened, you had to explain to him what this odd ritual meant, what it entailed. You shushed him before he tried to make his wish out loud, telling him with haste that it won’t come true if he told you what it was. When he blew the eyelash from your fingertip, all he could do was look at you and think: ‘but it already came true’.

Though it initially worried him, he loves that you go to sleep late — especially when he finds you zonked out on the sofa, TV on, remnants of your midnight snack escapade scattered across the coffee table. It means he has an excuse to pick you up and bring you to bed, holding you close to him all the while. Most nights, he just stares at you, watching you, wondering how he got so lucky to even have someone exist in the same house with, never mind you.

Nobody likes arguments — especially Simon. Having grown up in an abusive household, they were commonplace in some form or another. But, when he argues with you, he knows that it can easily be fixed. Especially if it’s over something minimal like laundry or cleaning — it gives him the excuse to seek you out and utilise his ultimate love languages: gift-giving and physical touch. Sure, he’ll give you a quiet, verbal apology, too, but his efforts shine through in the way he opens himself up to you, pulling you into a warm hug and not letting you go for as long as you’ll let him.

He loves the nicknames you give him: especially the funny ones. You’ve called him Semen Demon before now — completely unprompted. He couldn’t help but give a deep chuckle, saying “What are you like,” before turning back to what he was doing. This worked a competition between the two of you to see who could create the most cursed nickname for the other.

It’s still going on ‘til this day.

He lives for the inside jokes the two of you have, like a dialect only you know. It makes him feel like he’s truly part of something… normal. Sure, he has the 141, by they are bound in the blood of their profession, not by the sanctity of love. Not the kind of love you two have. He loves it even more when everyone else looks confused when you mark a reference onto you two understand; it makes him feel like you’re talking to him and only him. For the first time, he feels like someone sees him.

He loves when you listen to his music suggestions. It makes him feel like his opinion matters — like what he says matters.

He loves the music you listen to, too. Not even because he likes the songs themselves, but because he knows, somewhere between their instruments and vocals, you have found enjoyment, like a coveted treasure. And that's what brings him enjoyment when listening to them.

Simon’s always been a light sleeper. A trick he learned in childhood. So when you prod him awake to spill your thoughts to him, he’s immediately all ears. And he loves everything you say, no matter how banal or nonsensical. Even when you tell him your worries, his heart swells with the fact that you trust him enough with your perils. That you think, even for a second, that maybe he can fix them.

And he would. Before time can catch him, he’ll do whatever it takes to ease your worries, to destroy them.

He loves that he gets to show you off to the 141 — like a child with an arts and crafts project. He’s a secretive man, but he won’t hesitate to make light of the fact that his partner is absolutely stunning, intelligent, hilarious, loyal, understanding—

You see where this is going.

He even loves how jealous they all look when they see you wearing one of his shirts in all your unfiltered glory, wishing them a good night while you bid Simon his own – a special one. A kiss. Just on the forehead. But a kiss all the same.

He’s dazed for the rest of the evening, trying to hurry his friends uut the door so he can come to bed and see you.

Lazy morning cuddles !!!!!

He’s recently gotten into video games because of you, too.

Secretly a big fan of Animal Crossing. He absolutely would have been one of those people to try and buy Raymond from anyone willing to sell him back in 2020 .

Likes any games that are life simulators. Simple ones — free of life’s stresses.

Loves Harvest Moon. And the Sims (Sims 2 is his favourite).

Although, when he found out you can romance other characters, he felt a bit bad because he felt like it would be cheating on you. Until he found out that you were already leading many a double life on those same games. The moment he found out you’d been romancing a collection of pixels and shapes, he picked you up, slung you over his shoulder and dragged you to the bedroom to “Teach you a lesson.”

All in all, domestic life with you is better than anything Simon could have hoped for. So long as you’re with him, he’s living a life he’s only ever dreamt of. And so help the person who tries to wake him.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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[endotwrites]

𐙚⊹ ࣪ my headcanons for simon (if simon was a regular shmegular guy and probably not in the military but can be for both)

masterlist

✮ simon has a buzz cut. period.

✮ simon has a minimum 3 cups of tea a day.

✮ simon walks around in his underwear a lot. i’m talking boxers and socks because he’s too lazy to put anything else on after a shower.

✮ contrary to belief, simon can fall asleep really easily. on the couch after a hearty meal, at the kitchen table counter when waiting for the kettle to boil and unfortunately even when you’re trying to unwind and tell him about your day.

✮ more on that - you and simon unwind very differently at the end of your days. he wants to climb into bed and watch television with minimal words exchanged apart from a few sleepy grunts whilst you can’t wait to tell him about all your endeavours and want him to react enthusiastically.

✮ simon yawns really loudly it’s almost comical. everything else about him is brooding and quiet and then he just yawns and contradicts his whole character. on top of this - he sneezes into his hands… every time you scold him to stop that he jokes about chasing you around the house with his now germ filled hands…

✮ simon hates the sound of cracking your knuckles so after an argument you walk around the house pressing on your fingers just to annoy him further.

a/n: i wish he was real i wish he was real i wish he was REAL :(

[duck-a-doodle]

COD Headcanons: Soft Intimacy

SFW thoughts on what would unravel the COD boys. This is my first post for this fandom, and my entry point to it was the MWII campaign and a few comics, so it might be slightly OOC. In the meantime, I will keep doing research and I hope this brings you joy! :-) -CH

Masterlist 7/14/2024

Simon "Ghost" Riley silently relishes light scratches. The kind that runs slowly, gently down the scalp or round the ears, feathering across his scapula over the thin fabric of his shirt and the underside of his arms. He shudders at getting his spine or ribs traced, head spinning at the idea of fingers so tender taking long, tantalising hours to outline all of himself, the electrifying comfort flickering his heavy eyelids. Heavy as he is, the man is quick to persuade that you rest your weight upon him during such domestic ministrations; he curses, however, at your much more compelling affections, falling prey to the charms of your worship. Slowly, but surely, he leans forth — first dropping his head to your shoulder while languid nails crawl down his cheek, then falling to his hands and soon, his elbows — gliding his head down your collarbone and onto your beating chest, where he recognises that you are most ardently obsessed of him as he is of you. “Obsessed” is much too simple a word  and “reverent”, too large an understatement. His skin is yours, his mind is yours, his breath, his tongue, and every crevice of himself he can count; a gift and homage to your hands, his temple. As he finally sinks all of himself into you with a groan and a sigh, he gingerly lifts his heavy hands, resting them warmly by your sides and over your ribs, in hopes to return all your love with the altogether humble gesture. On days which he stubbornly wishes to do the same for you, he mimics the way you touch him, in every precise manner and every exact order, seeking nooks and crannies that warm your skin or hitch your breath. He will weakly protest, however, moments which your hands reach too close to him outside of these intimate instances, causing light, inadvertent whimpers from the back of his throat.

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Captain John Price likes using his hands for carrying. “Brutish” is an adjective familiar and frequent to his bear paws, trained to caress cold, carbons steel and paint itself in red, smelling only of matches and rust.  The warmest things his hands have known are the arms and backs of his fallen men and the barrel of his heartless iron, the touch of it comparable to a Londoner’s December. You, in place of the metal, you, strong yet brittle and you, lighter to him than a C4, grenade or flashbang, are his respite, reprising over the smoke of his numerous deployments, where his hands took more than they gave. He cannot help the pliant hips and waist that fit his palms seamlessly, more harmless than the many miry grounds he trekked before — a kind, relenting texture which spoil his weathered, calloused digits with the knowledge that they are utterly malleable to you, benign to you, void of all menace. Coarse fingers drag and curl your silhouette as your mass rests weightlessly on his arms and shoulders, yielding to his calculated strength. That he can evoke a laugh or an exclamation of surprise is a source of endless pride; a gentle nudge that the Captain John Price can tickle fancy by exercising a fraction of his brawn on something worldly. He could lift your groceries, the couch, your books — but  he likes to sweep off your feet the most. Trailing your thighs, calves, the small of your back are the hands that seek reminder of his humanity, tendons and phalanges flexing with every curve it meets, venerating eyes never leaving yours which watch his display of muscle with great wonder. For you, he would carry the world. Thus, in his words, “my back is strong enough to carry both our weights for a lifetime, if you’d let me.”

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John "Soap" McTavish has developed a habit of pawing. The abundance (if not exclusive presence) of tough military equipment, smoking alloys and dogged combat routines necessitated his use of hard, impenetrable gloves. Its rugged, protective textile has unwittingly sensitised his hands to various surfaces, including bare skin. He hesitated to touch you, timorous from his own want, curiosity and the unknown. Gone are his inhibitions when graced with your guiding hands, easing the earth-riddled cowhide off his palms. Aimless hands follow your lead, pressing into you over his Henley you borrowed. Finding purchase upon your stomach, he gradually grows accustomed to the fondness of your abdomen, shortly braving his way to your chest with sturdy yet clumsy paws. A current crackles down his body as he toys with the ripples of fabric adorned by your skin, indulgence rapidly surging from his fingers to his giddy head — he is soon to be all over you, his newfound contentment switching into overdrive. Respiration turning laboured, those once shy hands grow ravenous and wayward, roaming under the influence of his enthusiasm; every sharp inhale and strained noise he extorts from you only serves to encourage him further, inciting cheeky gropes at your sides, inner thighs and behind. What would eventually drive his mind over the edge, when you finally decide he is too much, is your folding a very surprised McTavish down onto the couch over you, keeping his head to your tummy and his hands tucked to your sides, imploring him to behave himself. Chiding him to act proper was an error on your behalf; his demeanour shifts, mischief clear in his eyes as he unabashedly explores all of you, pawing at you with every naughty intent fathomable.

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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick is crazy about being sat on. By no means a foolhardy nor gormless soldier, he holds himself to high decorum with immense discipline, ever an air of diplomacy about his person. None would have imagined that a simple act as sitting on his lap would send him reeling, rendered silent for fear of speaking with neither form nor cohesion. He turns light-headed watching your thighs pool like molten lava, quads sweltering from mere contact, let alone the pleasurable tension of your weight balancing precariously off his trembling knees. Worried that his legs would tire, you made to rise, wanting to relieve him of your own gravity but you were firmly held in place; two large, veined hands anchor you resolutely onto unmoving thighs, and any attempts of persuasion, made in the interest of his own comfort, faced flat rebuffal. Gratitude towards Lady Luck nearly spills from his lips, numb with inadvertence, as you nestle your heft upon him, for want of better comfort. You mistaking his lap for an empty stool was akin to setting his legs on fire, but to make yourself comfortable against him? For a man who prided himself for his class and propriety, he quickly found himself immensely burdened with sin, and subtlety became a language long forgotten. Had he any sense left in him that was not knocked out of the ballpark by your charming self, he would not be finding himself gently playing with the hem of your shirt, folding funny shapes with the fabric between his clammy fingers. Savoury dreams of you enticed him, swimming behind his glossy eyes that are unresponsive to the lights that danced across his features. Oh, you were so much trouble to him, colouring him brazen and so very warm. He loves it, however, and you will soon find what a fiend and a devil you can be when you later use this against the soldier's poor heart.

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Alejandro Vargas will die for your scent. Tantamount to a hound, no vaquero could catch the winds of change for miles around the way he could. The smell of burning tyres against the asphalt of the streets, the oils and perfumes of the same shop houses, the settling dust of his own base, and the routine spritz of air freshener that now smelled of lemon instead of mint ever since the new hire came on duty. Where Alejandro worked, the bittersweetness of gunpowder that sweeps his olfactory is his peace, and the constant heatwave that boils a Proust phenomenon out of the hanger persists in the back of his senses, subtle yet certain. No delicate change challenged his sharpness. He has a full bible to list it all, memorised from the front to back — and though he may not be religious, he is a madly devoted man. A hypervigilance that cannot be removed must find a reprieve, and only a single odour, long seared into his mind, pulls at him not first from the mind but from the heart. You, who smelled of his blankets, you, whose shampoo and T-shirt he recognised not from the brand but from its lingering aroma, and you, who could never surprise him with your presence because the scent of you would enter the room before his name falls from your lips, and before his eyes could reach yours. You remain the only person who turned his head with such impassioned and obsessed vigour, and he knew he was done for ever since. He would press his nose deep into your cheek, your neck, or the back of your nape and find himself at home as he stood in a room full of coldhearted artillery. No proper explanation was ever given when you find a shirt or two missing over the months of his deployment, but secretly, you had always known. And like the cheek you are to his mischief, you bask in the darker colour of his cheeks when you find that mysterious missing shirt hidden in the pile of laundry from his deployment.

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Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra likes soft whispers. Such light, airy and vertiginous words that kiss the shell of his ears — they would rob the man of his joints. Everyday exchanges of each other’s day ground him and ruin him, discernible only by both your ears. While he lends his body to the field, bloody and savage, in his heart there stands a single white flag signed in your name, by his hand; in a head overrun with sounds of distorted infrared voices, caterpillar tracks crushing against gravel and of heartless iron shells dropping at two hundred rounds per minute, your quiet words remain. A man of few words must have so much thought that weighs on his tongue, until it becomes too heavy to express. Surely, you must be a godsend. The way you effortlessly loosen the words from his hardened teeth, clenched too tightly still lest a bullet comes to bite, pulls shivers from his lips and down his watery lashes. Something about your bottom lip renders him helpless, and he finds that he must rest his thumb on your lower lip to lessen the giddiness that threatens to beat his heart out of his flaming chest. Permanently latched onto the rich timber of your voice was a man desperate to preserve you, so much that he keeps all your voicemails to him and labels them by the topic, just so he can find exactly when he needs to hear, when he needs to hear it. Moments of quietude in his bunk led one thought to the next, and he often ended the day with your voice embracing the deepest parts of his soul through an old, wired earpiece, wondering if you knew what gravity you had upon him. Perhaps you do know, he believed decidedly — because when he played a new recording you sent him during his deployment, his fingers violently mashed the volume-down button of his device at your rather unique choice of words, spoken at a careless whisper. You knew he had listened to it, as the first thing he did when he returned was to hold you in your place, and return all the salacious whispers he received right back to the bane of his heart. Ten-fold.

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König has an obsession with trapping. Hugs come rare to a man of his nature; imposing, wild and unacclimated to the civilised world. When arms do find their way around him, his own snakes around them, encircling the sensation, holding it close and praying that it seeps into his skin, permeating his senses to remain seared in his remembrance. Yet, more than once, he finds the same arms, over and over, routine the way the birds must sing and the poets must write. Always your arms, by his initiative. Greed will be his downfall and he knows, and he gladly embraces his defeat, relenting to your winsome self without remorse. Never would he deem himself a small man, albeit despite the notion, he shrinks; younger and younger he becomes with you, compressed to his front as much as your skins would let, as much as his strength allows without colouring your flesh a bluish-purple, until he is but a boy cradling his most dear Bärchen, unwilling to let go. He watches with blooming gratification, the exhale that falls from your lips as you press together, eyes drooping from the pleasant pressure that grounds you to earth, all because it is he who holds you. He drinks the sight and lets the view inebriate his already intoxicated mind. On the occasion when he becomes the bear-trapped, he will amuse himself with your too-small arms that fail to close around him, and will quickly turn the tables, subjecting you to his drunken coos with an onslaught of “mein Schatz”es, “Schnuckiputzi”s and “liebling”s. Greed will be his downfall, but you must be his renaissance.

P.S.: Can you tell that I read Pride & Prejudice before writing the TF141's and König's parts? I can. :'-)

[heavenbarnes]

okay hear me out— softness and gentle topics aside, how would older bf!simon go about discussing his mom & Tommy? would it ever occur? Would it be a vulnerable and gentle discussion with sins laid on the table or would it be like pulling teeth— panic attack arises and the words are spewing.

at first I’d have headcanoned it that maybe we innocently question the clinginess but I’m not so sure anymore; feels like that would just be second nature for the two.

i’ve never ventured into this topic because it’s literally so devastating that i almost considered writing it out of canon for him- but it’s time 🫶🏼 (massive tw for family loss)

the day older bf!simon tells you about his family, it’s at breakfast.

he’d made the food and you’d made the coffee, both expertly passing each other in your kitchen until you’d settled at the table.

when he told you, you had toast hanging out your mouth.

“pardon?”

“i had a family”

you weren’t really talking about anything in particular, so you made quick mental work of skimming over your conversation until you found where this was coming from.

sunny outside, nice day, should go to the farmers market, get groceries, it’ll be crowded, family day-

i had a family

had.

oh.

your heart had start to speed up in your chest and part of you was scared simon’s military precision hearing would be able to tell.

judging by the look on his face, distant, quiet- he couldn’t hear the thrumming against your sternum.

you were thankful, it meant he kept speaking.

“my mum and my brother, tommy- he had a missus too and a kid”

had.

oh god.

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze drifted out the window and onto the birds that were floating over the fruit tree in the backyard.

you couldn’t say there was much of you to look at, a hardline of your mouth and eyes that were willing themselves not to water.

“they weren’t in a good way- but i helped them get better”

the corners of your lips quirked reflexively but it fell away just as quickly, unable to escape the voice in the back of your head that kept saying the same thing.

had.

why is every thing in the past tense?

probably for the same reason this is the first time you’re hearing this story. when is the right time to get to this part?

the moment he cuts the rope, lets you down from where he’s had you hanging- you wish you could react in any other way.

instead, your mouth hangs open while your hand does its best to cover it.

the toast goes cold, so does the coffee.

the tears break through of their own accord.

and he still won’t look at you.

“oh, simon”

your mind races in a way you’ve never felt before, thoughts you’d never had before rising to the surface.

first, you want to hurt someone, anyone- whoever you can blame for doing this to simon.

(you quickly realise he’s probably already done that)

second, you want to take him by the shoulders and tell him that this was never his fault.

that there was nothing he did or could’ve done to deserve this.

and you’re sure that there’s layers to his job and things he’s done and seen that’d make him think that cannot be true.

but you don’t care- there is no human alive that could ever deserve what you’ve just been told.

you don’t care.

you love him.

third, you start to make sense of some of simon’s behaviours.

the way he calls your name when you’re at the other end of the house, just to know where you are.

the way you can turn around at any given moment and find him closer than your shadow.

the way he calls you on deployment only to hear you tell him you love him and you’re still home waiting.

the way he cannot exist without a hand on you, without knowing where you are, without knowing you’re still his.

and there you go again, wanting to hurt whoever put him in this position.

grateful to be able to love him how he needs but angry- blind rage in knowing what he went through to get to this point.

it’s why you’re out of your seat and wrapping your arms around his shoulders the minute you hear even a sniff.

you let him ruin your shirt with tears as strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you so close into him you wouldn’t be at all surprised if the particles shifted just enough for you to become one.

as if you weren’t already.

you’d never, never ever, questioned simon’s ever present need to be close. you’d come to accept it, enjoy it, miss it when he was gone.

it was never overbearing, never out of line, always right when you needed it.

reminding you that he was there.

that he loved you.

that he needed you.

just as much as you needed him.

and god, did he need to be needed.

did he need you to pass him the pickle jar (even when you could open it just fine)

did he need you to make him take the rubbish out (when you could do it yourself)

did he need you to call him when the car was making a funny sound (when you knew it was the fan belt)

did you need him to pull you into his lap at the end of a long day and rest his lips against the crown of your head as he rubbed slow circles into your back.

like you were doing for him now.

“simon, i just need you to know- i’m not going anywhere”

you made it to the farmer’s market, eventually. it was crowded, meaning simon’s arm never let your waist.

not that you mind.

not that you ever mind.