Are You Man Enough?

I think Simon would do anything you said if you phrased it as a command rather than a question.

“Can we go see the girly pop movie?” “No”

“We are going to see the girly pop movie.” He’s waiting by the door

“Will you wear a maid outfit for me?” “Fuck no”

“Go put the maid outfit on.” “Alright”

forgive yourself. whether you fail a test, eat too many cookies, say the wrong thing, fail a class, or spend a whole day in bed — learn to forgive yourself. the next day will be better. the next day will be a day closer to your next success. you can do it.

Simon’s never given much thought to babies before.

When he was younger, enough time was spent scorning his father and the childhood he was depriving him of, that any thoughts of becoming a dad himself one day were nonexistent. As far as he was concerned, he was essentially already a stand in parent to his younger brother.

As he grew older and enlisted, his life becoming one that consisted of nothing more than violence and destruction and terror, he thought the odds of him surviving into his 30’s were so slim that he need never bother worrying about having a ‘next of kin’.

That was until, he met you, of course.

Because now that Simon Riley has you in his life, he’s not quite so pessimistic about his existence the way he once was, doesn’t picture a foreboding dark cloud when he considers what his future could be. What a future with you could be.

Still, as much time as the two of you spend actually engaging in the baby making process, Simon really only considers babies as being something that other people have, not him.

Not with his line of work, not with the risks that come alongside the territory, not when he already can barely stand to leave you for deployment, let alone leave you behind with a child on top of everything.

No, Simon is perfectly content with his life where babies are just another anomale.

But then, your best friend announces she’s pregnant. And the sight of you holding a positive pregnancy test in your hands, changes something within him.

Suddenly, Simon is noticing chubby, drooling little infants everywhere he goes.

Fat babies shoved into the uncomfortable looking seats of grocery carts pass by him in the shops, crying babies strapped to their mums on the tube, sleeping babies being pushed around in their prams without a care in the world. Even on base, he notices more people talking about their children, showing off picture of their offspring.

He’s looking at you a little different as well. His gaze on you will darken as you and your friend chat about baby names, casually mentioning the ones that you like for yourself. His grip will tighten around the shopping cart when you wave to passing babies, making them giggle. He’s surprised at the way his cock twitches when you pretend to hold a breast pump up to your own chest, wrapping the baby shower gift you’d gotten her.

It only takes so long for you to notice the change in him as well.

You’ll be strolling through the park on a chilly morning when a young family goes by, Simon muttering something about how the little bald headed infant ‘should have a hat on for fuck’s sake, cold out ‘ere’. You’ll be in the shops, when suddenly Simon returns holding a pair of teeny tiny baby shoes in his hand, appearing comically small in his large calloused palms, wondering if maybe your friend would like them. You’re sitting outside a cafe while a pair of chubby cheeked babies are sat in their strollers staring at Simon as if their lives depended on it. You’re giggling to yourself, watching your boyfriend stare right back at these little girls, when the 6’4” tank of a man slowly lifts a gloved hand and waves at them, earning a pair of gummy smiles in return.

The most evident change in Simon however, is in bed.

Almost overnight, he goes from never having considered children, to suddenly dedicating every effort to getting you pregnant by the end of the year, month, week.

2 ibuprofen and dick from that old man would fix me

I like to draw the captain a little shaggy

JOHN PRICE JOHN PRICE JOHN PRICE JOHN PRICE JOHN PRICE

you and me both honestly

Simon Riley is the most self-sacrificing, loyal, and devoted person there is.

He shouldn’t be. The world didn’t owe him shit.

But it was in his nature.

Ever since he was old enough to talk, he’d protect his own. He’d hold Tommy back from arguing with his dad, knowing it would only result in black eyes and tears. He’d watch mournfully from the staircase as his mother took the fall.

He’d be there after, not long after drunken snores sounded from the couch. Simon would have tissues held in his hand, offering it to his crying mother along with a kiss and hug.

“I’m sorry.” He’d apologize, knowing it wasn’t his fault his mother had slap marks on her face, or blood on her lip. He was only sorry he wasn’t strong enough to fight him.

After a couple years, Tommy fell into similar habits, picking up the liquor and any drug he could lay his hands on.

Simon once again took the blunt of the fall. His caring heart breaking at his brother’s anger and decreasing health. He’d throw away the bottles he could find, flushing any pills down the toilet.

He was caught once, arms at his side as his brother screamed at him, shoving him down to the ground. Simon only took the fall, knowing he wouldn’t hurt his brother, not when he knew this wasn’t truly him.

He’d even stick up for Tommy in school, taking on the fights his brother picked up over drug prices. He’d take every punch to the gut, every kick, every blow to the face— one hit so hard he lost his front tooth in a spat of blood.

His mother didn’t have the money to fix it. He told her not to worry, he’d get his own job.

Simon, at the fresh age of 16, received his first job working as a butcher apprentice. He’d stay up late hours working overtime, sometimes even sleeping in the back against the cold meat freezer.

He found it to be a relief to butcher something, imaging it often to be his father’s face, despite his sharp blade only sinking into bloody chunks of meat. Often times he’d take the leftover scraps home to his mother, just so she could have something to eat that night.

He’d never spent any money on himself, until it came to the time to get that tooth fixed, despite the earful his father gave him for not scraping enough change for “rent.” 

He worked hard for two years, hardly sleeping, taking care of others. His hands were now covered in shallow scars, his muscles evening out as he grew to his full height. He was strong, he was tall, but his maturity stayed the same. Simon was an adult for his whole life.

He was at the shop when the news broadcasted, displaying the two burning towers in New York City. He watched the gruesome videos, seeing the terror and fear.

He was filling out his paperwork the next day, going to basic training the next week.

He would never forgive himself afterwards, for leaving behind a grieving mother and angry brother.

When he returned, now a man of potential, all in his freshly pressed uniform, his mother had wept. Proud tears in her eyes as she held onto her pride and joy. Simon had willingly embraced her, nearly squeezing her to death.

“Missed ya, Mum.” He’d sigh, eyes squeezing shut.

He’d ask about his brother, half-knowing it would still be the same since he left. But now, Simon was bigger, he knew how to fight, how to expect the worst. Hell, his sergeants screamed more than his father or brother ever did.

So Simon once again left for his brother, this time throwing away all the drugs and alcohol and watching him like a hawk.

Tommy had never been so angry, falling backwards and into the withdrawling stage. That was the worst of it.

Simon was once again selfless after a trip to the grocery store, buying his mom groceries for the week. A pretty cashier had left her number on the receipt, but instead Simon had introduced her to his brother instead.

They had hit it off, now going on their third date. Simon had never been more grateful for Beth, despite the nagging in the back of his mind that thought, “what if I wanted to date? What if I wanted to be happy?”

But, he’d always put his brother first.

It’s why he found himself smiling beside an alter, putting his whole life on pause to watch his brother dressed in black shed tears as his very pregnant fiancé walked down the aisle.

She gave a cute little wave to Simon, before happily taking Tommy’s hand to exchange vows.

Simon fought hard on his way to the SAS, watching brothers die and serving many tours. He always worried in the back of his mind that he’d become too much like his father. A cold hearted killer, someone who took love and crumbled it in a fist.

He thought he deserved to be punished, the cold meat hook impaled in between his ribs. The bruises, the cuts, the sexual assaults he was too weak to fight off. He deserved it all.

He was a shell, but at least his family was safe. At least he could justify his need to protect his family. He’d take a million torturous acts to protect his sweet mum, or his brother, his sister in law. Their sweet bundle of joy Joseph.

Roba had cackled about killing his family, how he’d destroy them. It’s why the jawbone was clenched between Simon’s fist, dirt filling his lungs as he dug out of the casket. He had to get home. His purpose of being alive, was in danger.

He was a selfless bastard, but he’d never wanted to be so selfish after seeing the blood on the floor. To not feel the horrid pain or hear the hollowed screams his body released involuntarily.

Roba had ripped out Simon’s heart and crushed it to powder. Took his mum, his family, his home.

Simon Riley was a Ghost.

He’d visit their graves every year, speaking of his life and how he missed them.

He’d tell them of his task force, how Man United had won another game. He’d sink to his feet in front of little Joseph’s gravestone, setting a toy plane against the moss.

He found tears were easy to fall.

“You’ll catch a cold out here, Simon.”

An angelic voice had called out to him, a warm hand anchoring him to the gravitational pull that was you.

You knew little of his life, of his service. But you knew him, and the brute cursed himself every day for letting such an innocent and beautiful creature get close to his tainted flesh.

You somehow wormed your way into his heart, healing and patching the tears and allowing himself to be selfish just this once.

He loved you.

And maybe, just maybe he could find himself being a person once again. Tying his soul to you and holding you against his chest like the precious gem you were.

“I’m coming, love. Just had to say goodbye.”

He could be selfish. Just this once, right?

He took your hand.

Accommodation I should have: someone to follow me around and whisper in my ear, medieval court advisor style, how to correctly respond when presented with different social situations

"My liege, that was a rhetorical question you just heard. Do not answer it."

Going off my headcanon that Ghost doesn't keep up with celebrities or musicians because he just doesn't care. Imagine if he was dating someone famous. Maybe not super famous because I imagine that would be difficult, but maybe famous in the right circles (thinking like Spiritbox or even Mother Mother type famous.)

Like he genuinely has no idea that you're famous. He's never heard of you or your band before. When you first meet and you say something about it, he stares at you before asking if he's supposed to know what that means, voice monotone.

When he talks about you to the others, he never uses your name. You're always just his bird, his love, maybe the missus (regardless of gender). He talks about how hectic both of your schedules are, and they just assume that maybe you work on a different base or you're in the medical field or something. It's always vague enough to keep them all wondering, and he refuses to elaborate.

Now imagine Soap's surprise when everything finally lines up and the team gets to meet Ghost's birdie, and none other than the leader singer of his favorite band saunters in.

(but also imagine if you were super famous. Like how the hell does this behemoth not know who you are? but you're also so relieved because at least you know he likes you for you.)

his dead fish eyes and silly mask intrigue me