AnasAbdin
Cosmic Funnies
d e v o n
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Acquired Stardust
almost home
RMH
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
Peter Solarz
🪼
DEAR READER
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
ojovivo
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
art blog(derogatory)
roma★
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
dirt enthusiast
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seen from United Kingdom
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@aestas---estas
Call me Aestas or Summer | In my 20's | She/her
Mainly a Call of Duty blog, with occasional sprinkles of other hyperfixations. Not everything is smut, but this blog is still 18+ as I am an adult and do not want to censor myself. So MDNI!
Archive of Our Own | General Writing Tag Call of Duty | Avatar: The Last Airbender | Total Drama
You'll be mine forever, baby, you just see
strangers to colleagues to friends to soulmates <3
Fat Reader crying because theyre insecure about their weight, and when Simon, the man Reader's been pining on for months confesses to them, they think its a cheap joke, and degrade themselves, saying "You can't even pick me up!"
Simon somehow gets Reader's number (Reader did NOT give it) and sends a video of Simon hip thrusting double Reader's weight with sweet groans, the outline of his bulge straining, clearly imagining Reader was on top of him.
Day in the life - afternoon 🌇
It is VERY important to smooch your sergeant pre, mid and post mission.
I dont know what it is but i am so in love with this one, im so happy :3
Shower thoughts….. 🌞 tbh i just wanted to sketch his side profile
———
(Full comic on p4tre0n 🔞✨)
Can we get sum more gaz pretty please? He's my favourite pretty boy and he needs some more love 🙏
You don't even have to say please when it comes to Gaz 🏃♀️➡️
anyway ghost vs price makes no sense to me. “you’ve broken a lot of rules, price” sorry were you not all members of the international war crimes and murder squad?
Wanted to work more on anatomy, muscles in particular so i went for a more beefy ghost than usual. Also traditional, always so weird how used to digital one becomes, tried to ctrl+z quite a few times 🤣
Also, took a lil inspo from @mitrielle with the fresh outta the shower and towel :3
Good practice!
Even though he would never trade your relationship for anything, the day Rugby!Simon proposed was not his proudest moment.
Put him in front of a thousand flashing cameras that will have his face plastered on every global sports news outlet and the most intense thing he'll feel is a simmering irritation. But the feeling of that little black box sitting in his hand makes his vision start to vignette if he thinks about it too much.
(It's so small, sitting in his hand, the ring inside even smaller. Yet the weight of it, the image of it on your hand, is immeasurable.)
The day he finally decides to ask you was the product of months of agonizing over it. Should he just hand the box to you? Just ask, not even include the ring? Fuck if he knows. He never thought he'd get this far, never thought he'd find you in any lifetime let alone this one.
He's not sure he actually makes a decision, but he finds himself picking a random day on one of the morning walks you take together when the weather allows.
Simon has been so caught up in his head that he doesn't realize how weird he's been acting all day, weirder than usual at least. He especially doesn't notice the worried looks you've been shooting him.
He's spoken maybe one complete sentence all morning and has maybe blinked twice, his mind fully anchored on the black box shoved in the recesses of his pocket.
He walks beside you rigid as an ironing board, marching like he's going to war. Eventually, you hover your hand over his arm, slowing to a stop.
"Si, are you oka--"
"I don't want to be your boyfriend anymore."
Silence.
"W-what?" He can barely hear you over his pulse thundering in his ears. It's the tone of your voice that truly reaches him. Small, a little scared. It churns his gut even more and there is a moment when he's genuinely concerned he might actually hurl.
"No. I mean--" He curses so low under his breath all you hear is him growling like a dog at himself.
He turns his back to you, hands fumbling in his jacket pocket. The box gets stuck and he's there flailing around, nearly ripping his jacket trying to get the bastard thing out.
And when he turns back around, sees your precious face, sees the woman whose side he never wants to leave, he drops to his knees.
Not the one. Both of them.
He doesn't realize.
Simon opens the box so fast he nearly tears the lid clean off. The ring that has been haunting him for months glinting from the cushion inside. He looks up at you with his huge brown eyes, more anxiety in them than you've ever seen. His dry throat clicks when he swallows. His mouth opens and all he can get out is:
"Please?"
Looking back on it, Simon has absolutely no idea why you agreed to marry him after that display. But every day he sees that ring on your finger, sees the one tattooed on his, he is overcome with the certainty that he'd go through every pain and misery in his life all over again if it meant that he could call you his wife.
Bluescreening
After days on end on a strenuous mission, it feels absolutely amazing to finally wash off the grime and tension with a hot shower in the safe-house.
Beach episode ❎ Lake house episode ✅
im still turning over the idea but I dont think you have a very romantic first time with your knight husband. he's home for a fortnight and you gather the courage to do to his quarters one night. he's half dressed, body darkened from the sun and heavily scarred, muscles soft from good meals-
"We should consummate the marriage."
He turns away.
"That isn't necessary."
"It is."
The two of you watch each other for a long while, stuck there, in uncertainty. He always watches you with wide eyes and you nearly laugh when you realize he reminds you of a deer in the tree-line, debating whether the hide or flee.
"I have never done any of this," you admit. "I will not be as impressive as others you may have-"
"That is the second time you have implied I have other lovers." Your husband cuts in. "I have devoted myself to you. I will not stray."
"Most men do. Those long months away-"
"Most men deserve death, then."
The recruits cannot be killed, Soap ☝️. He will run them ragged for insulting his husband nonetheless.
A gifted comm for my dear @ricercamis. I almost broke my brain with the THREE mirrored views but I enjoyed it very much 🥰
Packed with love.
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Simon Riley was a terrifying man to most people.
Six foot somethin’, broad as a doorframe, tattooed arms, permanent frown carved into his face like stone. The kind of man who could walk into a room and make conversations die mid-sentence.
Which was exactly why the bright pink lunchbox sitting on the briefing table looked so absurd.
Soap stared at it.
Then at Simon.
Then back at the lunchbox covered in tiny white hearts.
“…That yours, LT?”
Simon didn’t even glance up from cleaning his sidearm. “Obviously.”
Gaz coughed into his fist to hide a laugh. Price suddenly found the paperwork in his hands very interesting. Soap, unfortunately, feared nothing.
“Christ alive.” he muttered, lifting the lunchbox by two fingers. “It’s got a bow on it.”
Simon’s eyes lifted slowly.
Dangerously.
Soap set it back down immediately. The room went quiet for all of three seconds before Gaz spotted the sticky note attached to the handle.
Pink ink. Curly handwriting.
Don’t forget to actually eat today. I mean it!— ♡
There was even a lipstick kiss pressed onto the corner. Soap made a strangled noise. “SHE LEFT YE A WEE KISS MARK.”
Simon took the note off carefully before Soap could touch it with his grubby hands. He folded it once and tucked it into the pocket of his vest with complete seriousness, like it was something precious.
Because it was.
“You keep those?” Gaz asked before he could stop himself. Simon gave him a look that practically said watch your mouth.
“Aye.”
The boys exchanged glances.
Not because Simon had a partner. They all knew that. And not because Simon was soft with you. They knew that too. It was the fact he never acted embarrassed about it.
Ever.
Didn’t hide the matching pink phone charger you bought him because he “always stole yours anyway.” Didn’t complain when you painted tiny strawberries on his phone case. Didn’t care that his keys now had fluffy pink pompoms hanging off them because you’d smiled so proudly while showing him. The man simply accepted every little piece of you with both hands.
Like loving you loudly was the easiest thing in the world.
Later that afternoon, Simon finally opened the lunchbox during break. Inside was organized chaos. Pink Tupperware containers stacked perfectly. Heart-shaped strawberries. A sandwich cut neatly in half. Little notes tucked everywhere.
One on the drink—
Hydrate or I’ll become evil.
One on the fruit—
You’re handsome. That’s unrelated, I just thought you should know.
And one folded beneath the sandwich.
Simon opened it quietly.
Miss you already. Come home safe so I can kiss you properly instead of leaving lipstick on paper.
His eyes softened instantly.
Not dramatic.
Not obvious.
Just enough that Price noticed from across the room and looked away to give the man some privacy. Soap, however, leaned over his shoulder with zero survival instinct.
“Awwww—”
Simon shoved him back without heat.
“Piss off.”
But there was no bite to it.
Soap grinned. “Ye love that shite.”
Simon took another bite of his sandwich.
“Aye.” he answered simply.
No hesitation.
No shame.
Just certainty.
Because you loved pink things. Cute things. Soft things.
And Simon loved you.
Which meant he loved those things too.
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A/N: I love a man who isn’t embarrassed by the things you love.
soap muscles but i mae them up so theyre fictional and hes probably hypermobile
