[woman-becomer]

I'm full of wrath!!!!!!!! haha just kidding. I feel pretty ok

[sapphling]

let's all have a fun time looking up new words when we encounter them to see what they mean before incorporating them into our vocabularies

[lundenloves]

{✧} 500 wc | no warnings

taglist | masterlist | dad!simon masterlist | request info

Simon Riley who swore to never have kids, then was surrounded by three. Two oldest fighting and waking up the baby in his arms, earning a wild cry and two sheepish apologies. 

Simon Riley who was unable to bond with his children, not until after they had approached him for their missed love. An unsure hand pushed hair from their faces and a kiss to their temples, soft touch forever being a weakness. 

Simon Riley who had to leave for deployment and his youngest couldn’t understand just why he was leaving. She cried and whined, stuck to his camo clad leg at the door. “Dad has to go.” Was his attempt at consolation, picking her up and pressing his forehead to hers. “I’ll be back lovie, before you know it.” He couldn’t stop his leg from anxiously bouncing for a week after that. 

Simon Riley who secretly hoped to never make it back home after the scarring of previous deployments. He’d hoped to be shot square in the chest, with no chance of resuscitation. Because sometimes, just sometimes, the weight of his own emotional burden was too much to carry. 

Simon Riley who often dreaded coming home and having to take off the mask. The riddance of his failsafe ‘Ghost’ was like having the sheet pulled, entirely accountable for his actions (or lack thereof) and it was hard to hack. 

Simon Riley who couldn’t speak to his family for a day after being home. The urge to isolate so overcoming that he would either leave the house entirely or lie in bed for days. ‘Dad isn’t well’ was what the kids were told nearly every time, until they were old enough to see through it. 

Simon Riley whose jaw tightened at his daughter's fluoxetine on the counter. A mental spiral he had sent himself down, assuming it was entirely his fault she had been prescribed such medicine with his failings as a father. 

Simon Riley who was called upstairs to deal with spiders and such. Picking them up and taking them outside with ease, providing the largest amount of relief to his kids that he never did quite understand although reveled in. 

Simon Riley who had formed a bond with his middle child by collecting a note of cash from whichever country his deployment saw him in. She had hit most countries, all strung up on a pinboard above her desk with a skull sticker beside. It was one of the few times a genuine smile stretched his balaclava, tucking the note gently into his tac vest with practice. 

Simon Riley who would never admit it but felt a pang in his chest on the night of his eldest daughter's first breakup. The faint stubble on his cheek dashed with few grey hairs, skin scarred, back sore and giving unwanted but secretly appreciated advice. 

this wasn’t supposed to be depressing but i know nothing else apparently. it’s bittersweet. leave me alone. it’s unedited and chucked out, sigh.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @airghostlyfox @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @dilfdotgov

as always, comments are reblogs are hugely appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.

[jan-liliten]

would you rather have a gay thought or a son daughter

[daciancatamite]

[tojisteddy]

SIMON WITH A FULL SLEEVES, I KNEW IT I KNEW ITTT

[dykedoll8008]

[lundenloves]

simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

you tell simon you’re pregnant with his third child.

no warnings | wc 700 | taglist | masterlist

Your third child with Simon: a story told over the phone. On a busy, frantic morning at the barracks, Simon had barely pulled himself a minute to stand aside and return your missed call.

“Everythin’ alright?” His words composed, although every time you phoned he liked to imagine the worst. Stood a good distance from his unit, hand clutching onto the opposite bicep with a habitual frown. “You phoned.” His jaw tight, the heel of his boot digging into the dirt beneath with a stomp.

“Yeah, yeah no, all fine.” You were spitting the words, pacing around your kitchen and haphazardly tidying with the phone snug between your shoulder and ear.

Simon shifted. “So. What is it?” You could hear the loud bustle of masculine laughter from far away on the other line, the uniformed men audibly walking past your husband.

There wasn’t a break between his words and your own, “I’m pregnant again.” You said without much gusto, as if this was routine by the third child and a few scares. “And I um, I don’t know how.” His silence on the line was briefly penetrated by a murmur of his own confusion, the sound of his weight shifting against the dirt beneath him.

“D’you want me to come back?” His dry tone wasn’t met with an answer, the pair of you in silent thought for when this could’ve happened. “I’d need to know, now, ‘cause—“

“No. I don’t need you back.” You cut him off, gaining a grunt of acknowledgment on the other end. “I just wanted to tell you.”

“Do you want it?”

A long sigh came. “Do you?”

The sound of crunching dirt grew louder as someone approached and you knew he wouldn’t answer you now. “Can I phone you back, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah. No rush,” Simon forcefully grabbed Soap’s shoulder as he walked past, pulling him to the side. “Just think about it though.” You continued, Johnny staring at the silencing gesture Ghost had held up, his finger mere centimetres from the Sergeants face.

“I will, I will.” He glared at Soap, brows fixed into a frown at his lieutenants nods. “Yeah, yeah, right bye.” His eye contact was ditched. “Love you, bye.” The phone hastily shoved back into his pocket, hands on his hips.

“Well?” Soap snorted. “What’s this about?”

“She’s pregnant. Again.”

Johnny’s brows shot upward, smile intruding his face, and leaning back to clap his hands together in amusement. “Christ, Lt. ‘Yous fucking like rabbits when you’re home, eh?”

“Fucking keep it down.” Ghost warned.

“So what’s the deal?” Soap rubbed his face, crossing his arms over his chest.

“No idea how it happened.”

“Well, I assume the shagging had something to do with it.” His joke forced a laugh from Simon, shaking his head and lifting the bottom of his balaclava to rub at his jaw. “A third kid, mate. Can you hack it?”

Simon shrugged.

“Could be a boy.” Soap said absently, receiving a face of sarcastic agreement. Everyone knew Simon was never having a boy, the nurses especially were the first to say as much all those years ago. “Just go home. Talk in person.”

“I’ll phone her.”

And that was Johnny’s cue to leave, nodding once before taking backwards steps. Simon turned around, dialling the number with his eyes to the floor, absently nudging the dirt around with his boots. “Yep.” You answered, clearly still in your busy state.

“I’ll come back.” He murmured.

“No. You’re going away—“

“For three months.” His bite wasn’t intentional. “And by then it’ll be an issue.” The logical side of his brain was forever more in tune than its emotional counterpart. “So let’s just sort it now, yeah?”

And that you did, resulting in the birth of a third child nine months down the line. Miraculously, he was even there for the birth. His first and probably last out of your three children, and god was that an experience. He hadn’t known what to expect but what he came out with was the knowledge that childbirth is seemingly more traumatic than anything he had ever seen on the field. And that was impressive.

simon ‘ghost’ riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy @fwibblefwobble

the taglist is fucked, if you’re not here but want to be added, please follow the link at the start! comments and reblogs are also very appreciated, i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.

[lundenloves]

i want to come back to tumblr and writing but i really feel like i’ve lost momentum MAJORLY.

was considering doing a masters degree in creative writing but it feels less exciting knowing ai is taking so many of these jobs.

[sequinedaydreams]

IF I DON’T GET CARMY REACTING TO SYD TELLING HIM ABOUT HER FAVOURITE MEAL

[lundenloves]

how old r u?

21 😐

[gyllenhaalstories]

Jake Gyllenhaal as Bronco in the trailer of IN THE GREY.

[wesandresons]

[lundenloves]

Readijg through Dad!Simon stuff, and I had a thought.

You just *know* that if Soap had a son, and if that son and Si's daughter ended up dating, Si would be a million times worse on the kid than he ever would be on a random boy.

oh dude 1 zillion percent. and when it gets brought up as an idea that’s the reason he’s being like that he chews it up and spits it out

[ballard96]

Jake Gyllenhaal’s Detective Loki is a little too hot like what the fuck do you mean you’re angry all the time, have tattoos everywhere, hair slicked back and when you’re angry it becomes beautifully dishevelled and strands fall over your face what do you mean

[lundenloves]

Code name Hawk for you seemingly had eyes like one. Able to pick out a man from miles away, the glint of a lazily tucked dog tag, shine of a boot or pearlescent haze of non-issued sunglasses.

“Visual, Hawk?” Your lieutenant had asked down comms, his voice tepid amongst others in the branch.

“Visual.” You confirmed, your rifle and breath stilling.

“Hit ‘em. Short and sweet.” Ghost mumbled, his own rifle pointed toward the same collection of people.

Ten seconds of silence passed before the sound of a pop echoed against the red-stone valleys your team sat atop. “Easy.” He said simply, “Stand down for further order.”

-

i miss writing for him bro

[whumpypepsigal]

Prisoners (2013): “Stay with me… we’re almost there.”