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art blog(derogatory)

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blake kathryn
Sade Olutola
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
we're not kids anymore.

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Janaina Medeiros
DEAR READER

Origami Around
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tannertan36
Acquired Stardust
Misplaced Lens Cap
AnasAbdin

@theartofmadeline
Stranger Things
Sweet Seals For You, Always
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@cruxhing
MASTERLIST
did you guys see the trailer for mw4 omfg. foaming at the mouth just seeing ghost with the og skin and tattoo. i hope no one dies
Johnny ain’t nothing but a Hound Dog crying all the time ;)
yk that’s right 😭😭
just discovered ur blog— and its like finding a goldmine!!!
i love ur stuff— esp ur most recent Babysitter w/ Simon Riley (and that cheeky kid)
I wanted to ask for a pt 2 maybe?— u dont have to of course;
again, i love ur blogs and rambles!!
thank you!!
i’m planning to! i’ve been busy with work so i haven’t been able to post much! 😭
i go ghost when i get busy (sorry yall) 🧍🏻♀️
in which, the girl you’re babysitting goes up to simon and tries to play matchmaker
The kid you were babysitting was a menace. A twelve-year-old girl who thinks that she’s an adult and carries her little, pink purse around, pretending like she was paying for the outings.
Ophelia was her name; her parents made it clear that she was the princess of the household. She was the only child, got expensive clothes, makeup and skincare. You thought the epidemic of pre-teen-wannabe-teens was only online until you had to deal with her Thursdays through Saturdays.
Going out with her in public was hellish; she walked beside you with her rectangular sunglasses, slick back ponytail and dressed from head-to-toe in Givenchy. Let’s not forget the phone in her hand; the latest model that you couldn’t afford to even trade-in your current phone.
“And Gracie said that Cayden and Hayden were being such losers. Because Cayden kept on cutting off the teacher while she was teaching and Hayden was making noises in class. Ugh— I feel so bad for Gracie,” Ophelia rambled on, her blonde ponytail swinging side to side as she walked besides you in the busy street.
“Mhm,” you hummed out, staring ahead of you as your eyes landed on the grocery store ahead. Ophelia wanted some crisps. And when Ophelia wants something, Ophelia gets it. “Isn’t Gracie with Cayden?” you asked. You’re not sure why you’re entraining this. Maybe it’s so you could keep your job.
Ophelia glanced up at you and gasped, “I didn’t tell you? Okay— Wait, Gracie was dating Hayden, not Cayden. But no, she broke up with him last night because Hayden told Dylan that he found Alex pretty and Dylan told Gracie,” she tells you.
Too many names, too many stories, you’re starting to lose IQ.
The two of you enter the grocery store, Ophelia walking ahead as per usual while you tagged behind. “… Huh,” was all you could think of to say. As you made your way over to the crisps aisle, you glanced up at the bags on the shelf and picked one out for yourself. If you couldn’t buy alcohol right now to drown out her rambles, might as well get something to snack on while listening to her drama-filled life. “Are you getting your—“ you glanced over at where she should be, only to find the aisle completely empty.
Your mind short circuit as you stood there, crisps in hand and lips parted in shock. Ophelia’s strawberry perfume was still lingering in the air, indicating that the girl had just left. How in the world did she manage that? Her little heels weren’t exactly the quietest.
“Ophelia—?” you called out in a panic, the realization finally settling in. You just managed to lose a pre-teen and somehow, that was worse than loosing a toddler. Stuffing the bag of crisps back on the shelf, you ran out of the aisle to look for her. “Ophelia,” you called out again, rounding the corner to check the next aisle. As soon as you did, you almost walked head first into a woman, “I’m so sorry,” you say apologetically, throwing your hands up.
The woman didn’t spare you a glance. She stepped to the side, letting out a quiet sigh of annoyance before walking away. As she did, that’s when you heard the familiar high pitched voice.
“You should totes meet my sitter. They’re like, a bit of a loser but I think they have to act like that because my parents are paying them to watch me.”
You quickly made your way down to the next aisle just in time to see Ophelia standing in front of a wall of a man, built like he belonged in some super-hero movie but dressed like he was about to rob a house. He stood there holding a can of beans and an energy drink, peering down at the little girl with a deadpanned expression. “Suppose that’s ‘em?” he say dryly, nodding over to you without looking away from the girl.
Ophelia looks over her shoulders, her eyes widening a bit. “Gosh, you weren’t suppose to come over yet! I’m trying to find you a husband! Go away!” she shooed you, her manicured, glitter frenchies glimmering under the white light.
You ignored the plea from the girl and made your way over, sending him an embarrassing smile, “sorry— she doesn’t wander off.. Usually,” you say, grabbing her by the shoulders and tried to guide her away from the stranger.
Her parents would kill you if they found out that their daughter was speaking to strange, scary men. 
“He said his name is Simon! And he’s totes not chopped cheese! C’mon, you can’t stay single and alone forever, it’s getting sad!” Ophelia complained, planting her heels to the ground to prevent further distance from him.
You ignore the kid, still sending Simon an embarrassed smile as you try to pick her up or slide her out of the aisle. 
Instead, Ophelia grabs ahold of your arm and tries tugging you closer to Simon, “you said you liked a hot guy with tattoos and muscles! He’s literally giving hottie next door! I’m trying to set you up! Ugh!” she complains.
Pre-teens don’t have a filter, it seems. You stopped moving, hands still gripping her shoulders as you stared at Simon with wide eyes and jaw dropped. “I don’t— I don’t know where she’s getting that from,” you say, nervously laughing.
All while, Simon is staring between you and Ophelia, trying not to break his stoic character. He can’t help but to stifle a small smile though. “Has her matchmaking ever worked?” he finally spoke up, tilting his head.
You stood behind Ophelia, mentally preparing your speech about “stranger danger” to her when you leave. Giving Simon an awkward smile, you shook your head, “she’s not exactly good at putting me out there,” you replied.
Ophelia scoffed, “am so,” she murmured under her breath.
Simon raises an eyebrow and glances at Ophelia before looking back up at you. “…Like t’… say she is,” he replies, shrugging a bit. He looked down at the aisle, as if he was waiting for someone to jump out and catch him acting out of character before slowly turning back to the two of you. “Simon— Simon Riley,” he introduces himself, extending his hand out to you.
You blinked. Not once, not twice, but three consecutive times as you stared down at his extended hand.
It must’ve been a long pause because Ophelia grabbed your hand from her shoulder and tugged you closer to Simon, “and this is why you’re single! Gosh, youre the worst sitter!”
I think your work is amazing and wonderful and I hope you have the best of days
thank you! i hope you have an amazing day 😌
Johnny: Are you two fucking?!
Reader, nodding so so seriously: He's my piece of shit wubbyog.
Johnny: ...what.
Simon, so so seriously: Their piece of shit wubbyog
simon would be serious about it too 😭
I love the way you write Simon :D
I was wondering if it would be cool to request like a pirate au for the tf141 :3 and reader was a mermaid or anything
thank youuu!! writing that as SOOON as i get home omg
Obsessed with the latest fic (:what kind of dog is Ghost) and can’t wait for more 😭
(Great job and thank you for it!)
ty ty!! i was making dinner for myself and noticed my dobie just staring at me. really gave me a simon feel 😭
Somehow, your normal conversation with Johnny turned into “what kind of dog would you be if you were one?”
At first, it was just the two of you. You argued that he would be husky. Loud, obnoxious, always needs training or something to do or else they become destructive. Johnny argued and claimed that he saw himself as a rottweiler.
You stared flatly at him, eyebrows neutral and the corner of your lips slightly tilted downwards but your eyes held so much expression. “A rottie? Really, Johnny?” you ask dryly.
Johnny leans back on the sofa and shrugs, “I’m cool— collected— and I’d say I’m pretty tough,” he says as if all of those were indeed true. Before you could rebuttal (because let’s be honest, you were going to), he starts talking again, “I think L.T would be just like Riley.”
Oh, now we’re talking about Simon.
The same guy that everyone fears speaking his name because as soon as anyone starts to say the first syllable of it, he hears it. Probably has gigantic ears under his balaclava.
“Lieutenant’s a doberman, what are you talking about?” you raised an eyebrow, shifting in your seat a bit. You rested your arm on the back of the sofa and turned to Johnny, your legs curled up under you.
Johnny stares at nothing in particular for a second. In a way, it made sense. But he liked arguing, especially with you. “Nah, L.T’s not a dobie. You know what they say: your pets look like you,” he points out with a smug smile as if he won this argument.
“And you know how he looks, how?” you replied, raising an eyebrow. You rested your temple on the palm of your hand; the arm that was resting behind the sofa.
That shut Johnny up.
Because, yeah. No one knew what Simon looked like.
“…‘m jus’ sayin’— L.T really gives off the vibe of a german shepherd. Protective, independent but always there for his teammates and… loves structure. He’s no’ velcro-y like a doberman,” says Johnny.
You opened your mouth to reply but stopped yourself.
How do you explain to your fellow friend that Simon was a goddamn velcro? It’s questionable how you’re sitting in the rec room and he hasn’t barged in here looking for you already. He’s always glued to your side to the point that the captain questioned if he was on any new medications.
“If anything, I think he might be a belgian malinois,” Johnny adds, completely oblivious to your parted lips and mind. “An absolute wanker on the field, crazy lad if I say so myself. Can’ control the man even ‘f yer yelling ‘cross the building,” he points out.
That part was true.
Simon tends to do his own thing until the captain instructs otherwise. You tilt your head a bit, lifting up your other hand, tilting it side to side, “ehh… I see it. But I still think he gives off doberman,” you replied.
The door to the rec room opens suddenly, the quiet creek echoing between the four walls. Simon’s quiet steps thumped against the cold flooring as he walks in and stops right in front of the door.
Just staring.
He doesn’t speak and neither do the two of you.
Simon just… stares.
Not like a man who caught two people in an act they weren’t suppose to be doing. Not like a man who didn’t mean to walk in on accident.
Just a man who was staring at his two teammates like he was anticipating their next movement.
You slowly tear your gaze away from Simon and give Johnny a side eye before slowly pushing yourself off the couch. “I’m… gonna grab some coffee real quick,” you say slowly.
As much as you adore Johnny, you had a winning streak when it came to your guys’ “arguments” and you are not going to lose it.
Making your way over to the counter, Simon immediately followed you over without a single word and grabbed a disposable cup from the cabinet, handing you one as well. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t even spare Johnny a glance, and proceeds to pour himself a cup of black coffee.
Johnny watches the quiet interaction, taking note of how Simon hadn’t moved from his spot behind you. He should’ve gone over to a chair and sat down by now. Instead, he was standing behind you as you made your bittersweet coffee, filled with sugars and creamer.
“By the way, I still think you’d be a husky,” you spoke up, turning around to face Johnny. You mixed you coffee with a clean spoon, walking about to him.
Simon follows along, trailing behind like a lost puppy but never once made any effort to join in on the conversation. Instead, he sits down in one of the armchairs across from you and Johnny.
The younger male doesn’t respond to you. He’s had his eyes on Simon the entire time and that’s when the puzzles start connecting in his brain.
The amount of times that Johnny had witness Simon following you, the times where he’d would step in between you and some bad-mouthing recruit, and the amount of times that he’d always seem to nudge you— intentional or not.
“Are you two fucking?!” Johnny spits out.
part two: unreleased.
part one: here
Teaching Simon how to properly drive a vehicle was harder said than done. You’d think a man in his mid-thirties would know by now. Well, you’d be wrong.
Simon didn’t take lightly to people giving him advice. He’d consider himself perfect (which he is). So whose to tell him what to do?
Apparently, you.
He figured you were sick and tired of his driving abilities and truth be told, you were. You’ve been in too many accidents as him in the drivers seat, mission or not. 
The empty parking lot of a Tesco was a good choice, you’d think. It was late, the sun was dipping and casting a beautiful orange hue in the sky. The parking lot had only one other car in the corner of the lot.
Everyone warned you not to teach Simon how to drive. John said that your car may be totaled by the end of the night. Kyle said that he’ll prepare your funeral. And Johnny, hilarious-Johnny said that he’ll be watching the live cams from the nearest street cameras to see the drivers-ed go down.
“Unlock the door,” you call out to Simon from the passenger side. Your hand rested loosely on the door handle as you stared from Simon from above your coupe. He stared back at you and lifts the key up.
“It’s not unlocking,” Simon replies bluntly.
Your expression drops as you stared between Simon and your keys. “Lieutenant, I swear to—“
Big sigh! You got this!
Inhaling deeply, you shut your eyes for a moment before opening them again, “do you see a button on the key fob?” you ask evenly. Or as even as you can.
Simon glances over at the key fob and shrugs, “figured all vehicles have an automatic unlocking system,” he says and glances at your car window.
Yes— because your 2007 Toyota Solara would have a button. “Does it look like it has buttons?” you ask flatly. This was the only key the dealership had given to you; the spare that was tucked away in someone’s drawer until they sold it off. You’re not the kind to spend your money on flashy cars and will ride this coupe until it stops working in the middle of the road.
Simon unlocks the car with the key and opens the door, “no,” he sassily replies before shutting the door. You watched him through your fishbowl window, deciding not to lash out.
Yet.
Simon stares at you through the passenger window, giving you a raised brow behind his balaclava. “What’re you doing?” he asks from inside the car. He’s already gotten the car started up— meanwhile, you’re still outside, your right eye twitching.
“Doors still locked, lieutenant,” you say loud enough for him to hear. Simon doesn’t respond but gives you a little nod of awkwardness before clicking the lock buttons on the side. A soft click was heard before you swung the door open and stepped into the passenger side. “Okay— start driving,” you instructed the older man, putting on your seatbelt.
“Where to?”
“Wherever you’d like as long as it’s in the parking lot.”
“… Okay, do I turn or?”
You threw your hands up a bit and turn to look at him, “I don’t know— just drive,” you responded with a huff.
Simon huffs back in rebuttal before shifting the car in ‘drive’. Not even a second later, the car jumps from zero to fifteen. Your hand reaches up for the handle as he slams on the brake just before he hits the only vehicle in the parking lot.
Your vehicles engine softly hummed as the two of you stared at the red Audi R8 (which definitely cost more than your salary, let’s be honest). Your front bumper was about an inch away from the rear end of the sports car and your heart felt like it had fallen to your ass just by witnessing it.
“Lieutenant…” you manage to whisper out, still staring out of the windshield.
Simon stays silent for a second. A second too long to tell you that he knew he was in trouble. “… Yes?”
“Get out.”
Without another word, the male nods and opens the car. He swung one of his legs out, about to step out until the seatbelt (still protecting him and attached), locked him in. “Eueugh,” Simon choked out, the seatbelt colliding with his neck.
All you could do was sit there in silence and let out a shaky breath.
"Okay so do you know how to use the gear shift?"
👻"You mean the prindel?"
"...are you referring to the shift lever that says PRNDL?"
👻"I'm not a child, I know how to spell pridel"
"Jesus fucking Christ man how have you lived this long"
ghost would ask what the “L” means in the gear fs
Simon: I don't have a licence okay!
Reader: You really should have said that earlier.
Simon: Well I have a motorcycle li-
Reader: Simon I can't drive.
Simon: ...what.
Reader: I've never ever tried to drive how the fuck are we supposed to-
Cut to Reader driving for the first time. And they're literally fine. They didn't add a single scratch to the car
Embarrassing him
Simon "I only have a motorcycle license" vs my "I only have a forklift license" who'll win
simon would probably be seething with jealousy that reader can drive. meanwhile i can see soap laughing in the background
i absolutely loved the bad driver simon blurb! could you maybe do a part 2 where reader goes out of their way to request a day off base for both of them so that reader could privately teach simon how to properly drive and he’s just awkward and kind of clueless
“what’s the first thing you do before driving?”
👻 “…….open the car door.”
“…….this is going to be harder than i thought.”
yes! it’s in my drafts rn. hopefully i’ll have it posted tomorrow 😌
this mf probably has a thing for potholes or smth😞😞
-same anon😸
i’m crying, he’s just like me fr (i avoid potholes but end up hitting them) 🧍🏻♀️
just read the simon and driving situation and it made my day just imagining it😭😭😭😭
i’m glad you enjoyed it!! it’s canon in my head that he doesn’t know how to drive. like he may have a license but he’s either got a heavy foot or turns too sharp 😭😭
I'm tuned!!!
yayay glad i’m not forgotten LMAO