Imagine: Simon Riley never seeing cartoons so naturally you show him your favorites.
Simon Riley never watched cartoons.
Ever.
Not because he hated them, not because he thought they were stupid or they weren’t his taste.
No, he was never allowed such things in his childhood.
His time as a young child was spent protecting himself.
Learning to grow stronger, invisible to his father and unnoticed by his mother.
So, naturally, when you bring up the idea he scoffed you off.
“M’ a grown ass adult, I can’t watch cartoons.”
He’d say.
But…
You manage to convince him one night.
“Cmon! You’re telling me that you’ve got to enjoy the wonders of scooby doo? Or even the power puff girls??”
You question your eyes narrowed and face scrunched.
He finds the sight adorable.
Sighing out his nose, his head bowing in defeat.
“No, love. I cannot say I have.”
You grin.
The TV gets on turned on soon after.
And that’s how Simon found himself here.
Stuck on the sofa next to you, arms crossed, expression blank.
Acting as though he wasn’t forced against his will to do this.
The opening theme begins to play, you bounce in excitement next to him.
“Oh I loved this as a kid!”
Simon was seriously questioning his life choices.
Three hours later, you discover that Simon Riley actually loves Scooby-Doo.
He denies it, immediately.
Watching criminals dress up as stupid monsters reminds him of his work but shown in an innocent, comedic light.
He can’t tear his eyes away from the slightly pixelated screen.
Watching Scooby and the gang solve mystery after mystery.
Pointing out how ridiculous these situations are with a straight face.
“Now why would they split up? That’s a terrible idea.”
“Babe, it’s just a cartoon.”
You remind him.
Shaggy says something stupid, Scooby does something that instantly makes it worse and there it is.
A laugh.
Loud, unguarded and real.
His mouth snaps shut.
He coughs.
Shifts on the couch next to you.
His eyes dart to you to making sure you didn’t hear that.
You smile ear to ear.
Warmth spreading all over your chest.
You don’t tease.
You don’t say anything at all, you simply turn your attention back to the screen and lean into his side.
His arm wraps around you naturally.
Simon nudges you halfway through the episode, whispering in an all too serious tone.
“I bet the culprit was that bastard in the beginning, the too nice one.”
“The gatekeeper?”
You question.
He grunts with a nod in response.
You laugh, something soothing inside you looking at your hulk of a boyfriend leaning forward on the couch fully locked in on a silly kids show.
Once the monster is revealed to indeed be the gatekeeper Simon looks at you with an all too smug expression.
“Told you.”
And that’s how Scooby Doo turned into one of your weekly shows.
Curled into Simon’s side as the familiar theme song fills the room.
Simon pulls you closer, kissing the top of your head. Whispering.
“Bet it’s the bloody night watchman.”
“Simon, it just started.”
“Watch.”
10 minutes later, usually proves he’s right. Smiling down at you with the same smug expression he gets every time he calls the culprit correctly.
You couldn’t be more thankful for Scooby and the gang.
