izz030izumiin - Tumblr blog

[izz030izumiin]

part 2 of regency era!ghost x f!reader

you never truly appreciated your solitude until it was being threatened.

honestly.

you didn't know how happy, or at the very least, mildly content, with how alone you've felt all these years until your husband decided to barge into your life.

you've endured endless rumours about an unconsummated marriage because the man can't bear to be in your presence for more than five minutes. you've endured whispers, snickers and odd looks from noblemen, women and commoners alike because your own husband deems you unfit to be his wife and he didn't have to say it out loud to any of them.

his presence used to be something you longed for. even the mere crinkle at the corners of his eyes to indicate a smile would've been a milestone achieved (not that you've ever achieved it). the mere touch of his fingers against your hand would leave you elated for the rest of the day.

but now?

your spine grows taut if he so much as looks your way. he stands a little closer to you at formal gatherings, opting to start a conversation with you. he finds you in the gardens or in the library when you know you've expressed to the handmaidens that you do not wish to be disturbed. but alas, he is the king. no one dares to contradict the king.

which is quite unfortunate because every waking moment he spends orbiting around you fills you with dread. you crave his absence more than anything now.

you wish he could go back to his mistresses. whatever it is he said or did to offend them enough to cast him out of their beds, you're certain it can be rectified and you can go back to existing in peace.

"you can paint." his voice trails behind you.

your brush strokes pause and your head shifts a bit to the side, your gaze catching on the flowers on your left before returning to your canvas. the soft scrape of footsteps on grass comes closer until you feel his presence at your side.

you continue your task, unwilling to give him your full attention. it's his own fault. he came to see you at a bad time. "an astute observation, your majesty."

his head tilts at your work, curious eyes examining your technique. you then feel the weight of his gaze on the side of your face. "i didn't know you could paint."

"no. you did not." it's not meant to be harsh. it is the truth.

you don't see the way his eyes crinkle under his mask, but you certainly hear the amusement in his voice. "why the hostility, my queen?"

"i am not being hostile, you majesty. forgive me if it appears so." you make a broad swipe over the blues and greens then dipped your brush in more paint.

he lets out a sound akin to a chuckle. you don't know what to make of it. ignoring it was your best and only choice.

"i don't mind it." he says. "it amuses me."

amuses him, you think. if that's the reason he suddenly shows interest in you, then you remind yourself to be as bland as this morning's soup.

suddenly, you want to leave. his presence is oppressive. you can't focus with him gawking at you and your painting like this.

"i could've sworn i had paintings in my study not too long ago." he muses, eyes crinkling with amusement. he knows about your paintings and only now does he choose to acknowledge them.

you suddenly lose interest in your canvas at the fact. you dip the brush in the cup of water and turn your back to him. "i know. i made them."

"what happened to them?"

"if i recall, you asked the servants to throw them out."

you don't bother to wait for his response as you gather your palette and start the journey back to your bed chambers.

you don't realize how much your statement gutted him.

considering that you haven't had a proper conversation with your husband since the day you met him, imagine your surprise upon receiving a letter; a dinner invitation.

when you think about it, truly think back to the last three years of being trapped in this loveless marriage, the invitation itself contradicts everything you know regarding how he feels about you.

you've never had to speak to him outside of formal gatherings and meetings with nobles and other people. never had to touch him more than what is required for public appearances. if anything, he can't seem to stand your presence. always leaving you alone when he found the chance to, always shoving you far away from his vicinity if he's in the mood.

he's only bedded you at least twice a month out of an obligation to make an heir. never mind the fact that you've never stayed in his bed until past sunrise, nor has he in yours.

so this, sitting across from him at a table played out with a variety of dishes and plates, this is new.

"my queen." you think his eyes are squinting under the mask. it's almost hard to tell under the candlelight. "thank you for joining me."

like you had a choice in the matter.

you resist the urge to force a smile. better to stay as neutral as possible than to give any reaction. "thank you for inviting me."

let's get this over with, you thought to yourself as you slowly picked up the fork and met his eyes from across the table.

you keep a neutral tone and a guarded expression throughout the entire dinner. whether he's bothered by it or not, it's hard to tell. he only asks about your day.

which is... a first. he never cared until now. you were quiet for a moment as you thought about the day's events, thinking of anything you'd done differently to warrant an invitation to dine with the king.

you hadn't done much today. visiting an orphanage wasn't out of the ordinary for you. neither was having to make sure that there was enough harvest to get the kingdom through the coming winter. after you'd done that, you spent the afternoon planning next week's ball.

really, you can't think of a single thing you haven't done in the past to make the king want to speak to you. not one thing... that you know of.

the fork was slowly twirled between your fingers as you carefully minced your words. "fairly uneventful. nothing that would interest you, your majesty."

"let's agree to disagree." he leaned back in his chair. "i want to know what my wife has been up to."

his wife— odd. very odd. very out of character for him to even acknowledge you as something more than the bane of his existence.

his wife— you suddenly find it hard to breathe. a heavy ache swells in your chest. it reaches up like a fist and grips your throat.

his wife— the words made you want to hurl yourself out the window and drop to your death.

your eyes drop to the food on your place and stayed fixed there. you can't tell if you're frightened or angry at this new change in... dynamic.

you settle for apathy. it's the only logical reaction. the only thing that will keep you sane when he's deliberately trying to steal your sanity.

"like i said, your majesty." you stab the piece of meat with your fork. "nothing that would be of interest."

if he's disappointed by the stone wall you chose to put between you and him, he doesn't show it. good. you'd much rather be confronted with his indifference than anything else, since you're so used to it.

you can only hope this would be your last night dining with him.

banners by @saradika and @vase-of-lilies offer a coin to the picklejar

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do not like, comment, reblog or follow— in fact, do not interact with this blog if you're a minor or if you have no age in your bio. read the [ground rules]. you have no excuses if you get blocked.

[izz030izumiin]

part 1 of regency era!ghost x reader

noodled from this. warnings: angst, forced/arranged marriage, emotional neglect, Simon being an absolute dick.

you weren't an idiot. you knew better than to expect love from an arranged marriage. if watching your parents' has taught you anything, it's to not have such high hopes for something so impossible to achieve.

but at the very least, you hoped for some level of cooperation. a hint of companionship. a friendship, perhaps.

your husband has been so cold from the very beginning. he met you the day of the wedding. you both said your vows, kissed and briefly danced for the court to witness. after that, there was a few moments of the consummation of the marriage and you were sent on your way after that was over with.

it was difficult to adjust to his indifference, despite what you've been told. you thought that you would be the exception to it, that you would be treated with a hint of warmth, considering that you were going to spend the rest of your life with him.

but there was no such warmth nor care spared for you. you even doubt it was spared for his mistress too, but at least she seemed to be enjoying herself in his bed, which did break your heart even more. the thought of his infidelity did hurt, but it was to be expected. he is a king, after all. kings to whatever they want. and whatever needs you can't meet, he's surely finding them elsewhere.

yet you still tried. you tried your best to be a good queen, a good wife. despite what you've been told about his first love, about the woman he lost to another man, you attempted to be something he can look forward to at the end of the day.

you wore dresses that were in his favourite colour. sprayed all sorts of perfumes to make sure you smelled nice for him. kept your hair prim and proper so he might notice. wore jewellery that you thought he might find pretty on your skin.

left flowers in his study to brighten his day. sometimes sunflowers, sometimes roses, sometimes daisies. it was trial and constant error, just hoping that he might tell you his favourite ones so you can stick to those, but he never did.

the only reason you stopped doing so was because one of the maids heard him muttering complaints about how the flowers clutter his desk. alright. no flowers then. man needs to work hard and he needs all the space he can get.

but you were determined to brighten his study. so you painted the sunset for him. painted the sunrise, painted the night sky, painted the moon and stars for him, but he never even took the time to even look at one of those paintings. the canvases were left in the corner of the room and thrown away, per his request.

you even put all your violin lessons to use in trying to impress him, but it was all in vain.

read all his favourite books to try and open a fruitful conversation about them, only for him to shut you down when he lashes out and tells you "you will never be her".

a moment of silence passes as the tears we'll in your eyes before he commands you to leave the room because he can "barely hear his own thoughts with all that chattering".

yes, that one did sting. your shoulders dropped and your cheerful expression broke ever so slightly before you hid it with neutrality. you bowed and walked away, as per his demand request.

that was what stopped you from trying. if he found your presence that much of a hinderance to his peace, then you guess there's no point in trying to be friends with him at all.

from there on, you spoke less. in his presence and the presence of others. being a burden to anyone never sat right with you and his words aggriviated that train of thought, so you just tried not to ramble, tried not to fidget too much under the gaze of the lords and ladies and even the servants. kept your thoughts to yourself and only applied what was necessary and what was required of you. kept a blank stare at the ceiling and numbed your mind while you both performed in your monthly mandatory marital duties, waiting for him to jerk his hips and fill your womb with his spend then you'd be on your way.

at some point, you'd even given up those visits under the guise of faint illnesses and you hadn't heard a single word about it from the king. you figured it was because he most likely relished your absence, or didn't notice it at all.

either way, you were tired.

exhausted of giving one hundred percent of yourself and getting less than half in return. you've had to endure it with your parents, with your siblings and now your husband. if you could not be first or even second or third choice in anyone's heart, then you'd rather not be a choice at all.

unbeknownst to you, the moment you pulled away was when he started to notice you.

unbeknownst to you, Simon had gotten so used to your presence outside of his bed chambers that he felt somewhat pinched by the lack of it.

his desk didn't have a new boquet of flowers sitting in their vase anymore. the air lacked a particular sweetness in your absence. something about your scent and the sound of your voice telling him about the little details of your paintings that just... soothed the voices in his head.

Simon didn't want to admit that he found you charming. it felt like he was betraying the woman he loved. the woman who sailed out of the country once she'd gotten married and wished him well in life.

but the fact of the matter is that you were a stark reminder that even a king has responsibilities. you were the reason why he couldn't even have his freedom. yet somehow, after many moons, his freedom started to take shape in the form of your smile.

so much so that he tried to seek it out. eight months after he'd yelled at you and took a knife to you heart.

only to be met with a startled expression and a tense posture one breakfast morning.

he remembers the painful silence of that day in the gardens. the brief glance you cast to your handmaiden as if to say "what the fuck is he doing here???" not to mention the little shrug from your handmaiden telling you that she has absolutely no idea and she's just as shocked as you are before setting your wide eyes on him, a half-chewed biscuit stuck between your delicate fingers. the pure terror in your eyes because this has never happened before and you're unprepared for such an unprecedented event.

this being him coming to see you in the morning. or ever. this being him sitting down with you for breakfast before the painstaking day begins.

he wasn't prepared for the way your fear and confusion twisted something in his chest. even more so when he realized how quiet you suddenly were around him. never speaking more than ten words. never looking directly at his eyes anymore. sitting so stiffly in your chair with your hands on your lap that he couldn't reach out to attempt to comfort you.

you were polite to him, however. he thinks that might be the worst part. if you'd been angry or upset, he might have felt more comfortable to offer apologies and promises of reparation, but he's not sure how to proceed when he's faced with a wall of quiet fear.

he's not deterred, though. he's done being an ass to you and he should start making amends.

[part 2] banners by @saradika

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do not like, comment, reblog or follow— in fact, do not interact with this blog if you're a minor or if you have no age in your bio. read the [ground rules]. you have no excuses if you get blocked.

[izz030izumiin]

reworked an old wip 🖼️

tom riddle contemplating his prospects... 🪄💫🐍

[izz030izumiin]

könig and his massive rooster wip 👑 🐓

[izz030izumiin]

[izz030izumiin]

Simon loves you. He adores you. He worships you.

You love Simon. You adore Simon. You worship Simon.

That’s one thing you two have in common.

The other thing is that you two hate your own bodies.

You hate the fat on your belly and the fat of thighs that make every jeans you wear too tight. You hate how slabby your arms are when you wave at someone and wear a t-shirt. You hate the stretch mark on your stomach and under your arms, around your thighs. You hate the little double chin you’ve gotten over the years and can’t get rid off, no matter how hard you try.

Simon on the other hand hates how rough his body is, how firm and hard. He hates the scars all his years in the military had left behind. He hates how there is always a reminder of a bad past, one where you didn’t have a place just yet. He hates how calloused his hands are, from years of punching people or holding weapons. He hates that no matter how hard he tries, he always is a bit too rough, never too much to hurt you, but it’s not easy to relax.

So one of these days, your parents invited you and Simon over for brunch and you agreed to go. But now you’re standing before the full body mirror and stare at the tight shirt you chose to wear, you swore the last time you had it on it wasn’t like this. Tears gather in the corner of your eyes as you squeeze the pouch of fat on your belly.

That’s when Simon walks inside. He’s dressed casually, jeans and shirt. He looks good, handsome. But as always he hides most of his body behind long sleeves and pants.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispers into your head, wrapping his arms around your waist to take your hands away from the small pouch. “You’re gorgeous, sweet, sexy. There are a million words I could say to describe you, but they won’t be enough. You’re perfect, the way you are.” Simon says softly, looking into your eyes through the reflection of the mirror.

You believe him.

Because you might hate yourself but you love Simon.

Simon is the same. He believes you when he stands at the sink and looks at his scarred hands. Those hands aren’t made to love someone, they are made to kill and destroy. Those hands aren’t meant to touch someone as pure as you.

That’s when you walk into the bathroom. You see him, hate and disgust in his blue eyes.

You place your smaller hands on top of his before taking them and placing his hands on your cheeks. Smiling softly.

“Your hands are made to protect, you save not just me but many people. They are gentle and kind. You are gentle and kind. You aren’t a machine that’s made to kill. You are perfect, just as you are.”

And Simon believes you.

Because Simon might hate himself but he loves you.

[izz030izumiin]

Simon wants to marry you.

This fact was as clear as rain on his mind. You were the love of his life, he was ready to settle down with you and grow old.

So Simon prepared everything for that special day, it was your fourth year anniversary and Simon wants to ask you the biggest question someone could ask and he hoped, maybe even prayed despite not believing in any higher deity, that you would say 'yes' to his proposal.

He has planned out the whole day, from the moment you woke to the moment you would close your eyes for the night again, everything was supposed to be perfect.

Simon brings you breakfast in bed, watching your smile brighten when you see the freshly pressed orange juice and the fresh buns, still warm from the bakery. "Happy Anniversary." He whispers before slipping back into bed behind you, pulling you between his legs and stealing some of the freshly cut Mango from your plate.

When breakfast is over, you two made a mess out of each other while trying to feed each other, he scoops you up and carries you into the bathroom, telling you to get ready and that he has a lot of plans for today which causes you to become perceptive. Immediately starting to question him about his plans, but he's still a trained soldier, he withstands your flow of questions.

Another plan of Simon for today was bringing you to a fair, the same one you two met four years ago.

Here he wanted to ask you to marry him, on top of the Ferris wheel where you two had been stuck together four years ago due to a technical issue with the electronic.

But after spending a few hours walking the fair ground, having to walk back to his car once to bring Lord Otto from Otterson, the plush Otter he won you at one of the stupid and usually very rigged fair games, to safety and out of the way. You make it to the Ferris wheel and Simon's face fell.

"Out of order..." He breathes and runs a hand through his short blonde hair, staring up at the still standing wheel and the dangling cable cars.

"Damn." You curse softly next to him and scratch your neck. "Well, maybe we can ride it another day, mhm?"

"Yeah, maybe. Well, we can't change anything now." He chuckles and squeezes the velvety box in his back pocket. Keeping it safe until you two would reach the next destination.

The small restaurant by the corner where you two lived was filled with loud voice, happy laughter, children running around, not that Simon minded, he knew you were a very outgoing person and enjoyed the social interactions from such evenings.

Simon had reserved a table a few weeks ago and the waiter brings you and him over, Simon shushing the poor man who just wants to help you sit.

He is your boyfriend, bloody hell, he can do something so simple as helping you get seated.

"I know it is our anniversary, Simon," You chuckle as you put down the glass of wine Simon has ordered for you and him, "But something feels different. I just don't know what. Special..."

"Four years is just a long time, love. Maybe your brain finally catches up with... wha-?" Simon wants to be cheesy with you before asking you the question of all questions when suddenly his feet feel wet and he looks down, seeing water come from the kitchen.

His second attempt of asking for your hand has been sabotaged by a broken water pipe.

Simon curses internally as he carries you back outside, not wanting to get your feet wet and cause you catching some flu.

Well, there is only the romantic walk through the nearby park which is empty around this time of the night, so you two can walk around the pond and watch the fireflies and swans before he can go down on one knee and finally ask.

But before he even get you through the sturdy iron gates that allowed entrance to the park, his phone rang, Prices' number on the screen and everything in Simon screams to ignore his Captain for the sake of your relationship and your future.

He apologizes and takes the call, listening to Price explaining that they've got information about a certain Russian Terrorist planning an attack and that they had to meet within the next hour.

"It's fine." You reassure him when he brings you back to your shared apartment, squeezing his hand with a gentle smile on your lips. "I had a lot of fun today with at my side. And saving the world is much more important. We can celebrate another time, Si."

"You're too forgiving." Simon replies and presses his chapped lips against your forehead. "But it's not fine. I had the whole day planned out. And the universe seems against me at all, bloody hell. All I wanted to do tonight was asking you to marry me. And everything I've tried blew. The Ferris Wheel, the restaurant, even the walk..."

You cut him off before he can talk himself into a frenzy by wrapping your arms around his neck, having to stand on your tiptoes and planting your lips on his.

"Yes." You grin when you pull back. "Yes, I will marry you, Simon Riley. I will marry you."

Maybe he should have simply asked you this morning during breakfast, might have saved him from getting another grey hair on his head. But sometimes the simple answer is hidden behind the complicated ideas.

[izz030izumiin]

Sorry but you meeting Soap on some Festival in the middle of nowhere.

He sees you stumble out of the mosh pit, sweaty and dirty but laughing like a hyena, your shirt sticking to your body. Your boots have seen better times too, pants ripped at the knees and by the hems.

You grin in Soaps direction and he’s completely smitten with you.

He walks over and after a few drinks you share a tent for the rest of the festival.

And at first Soap is worried he never sees you again until he has a doctors appointment and finds you sitting at the reception.

The complete opposite of what you were during the festival. Pristine white nurse uniform, hair cleaned, everything perfect.

Now a year later you two attend the same festival again, not as stranger but as lovers, and this time Soap wants to surprise you with the ring he brought a week ago spontaneously.

(His proposal got streamed by the artist that was playing at the moment on the main stage, half the festival watched you break down in ugly tears and him following a second later, but you got free drinks for the rest of the day)

[izz030izumiin]

So, I’ve been thinking about heir to the throne Reader who has never seen more than the inside of the castle walls.

Your parents raised you protected from the entire world, you only know what your teachers taught you or what you read in chosen books.

Cut to Knight Simon, two years older than you, having seen the entire world, at least that what you imagine from the tales he tells you when you two spent time together and you don’t have any duties at hand.

He tells you about mountains that are inhabited by Dragons, tall enough to scratch the sky. And he tells you about oceans deep enough that their water comes out on the other side of the world. You hang on his lips and listen to all his stories and tales, you both know they are over exaggerated, at least you hope they are. At least the stories about dragons, those scaly beasts scare you.

And on your birthday, fully adult now, your parents present to your future spouse, an arrogant person, looking at you like you are underneath them. You can’t stand them and you try your hardest to make your parents change your mind, you pout and complain but in vain, they don’t change their mind.

So you give up after a few weeks, coming to the acceptance that you would never be free and be forever bound to that person.

Color you surprised when Simon stands in front of your door one night, a leather bag around his chest, filled with simple clothes and apparently enough food to last a few days.

He takes you to the stables, telling you to be quiet and wait with the questions until later.

You two leave the castle behind, the wind is biting into your skin, your clothes not good enough for such speed. Even with the cloak around your shoulders you’re freezing.

And you know you should demand of Simon to be taken back, you can’t just turn your back to your responsibilities, your kingdom.

But a small voice in your head tells you that you’re free now, you’re free to learn and grow on your own. You’re free to explore the world with your own eyes and hands and without someone leading the way. So you’re quiet until you reach the first stop. Many miles outside the town around the castle.

Then, years pass by, after many of them just on the road, you and Simon finally settle in a small fishing village by the coast, you’re welcomed there with open eyes, getting married under the starry night sky, a beautiful golden band around your and his ring finger.

More years pass by, two boys had joined your family, they fill your house with laughter and warmth when Simon is working the fields.

And everyday Simon finds new ways to show you more magical places in the world you would have never seen if you didn’t let him take you away.

[izz030izumiin]

Simon is the type of husband that, when you watch your silly little tv shows, let it be something like a documentary on Rhinos on Documentary Chanel or just some murder documentary about serial killers in the 17th century or even worse, reality tv like Keeping up with the Kardashians, he says he’s not interested in watching them with you.

But like everyone else, he finds excuses to walk into the living room where you are sitting, in the winter mostly underneath a million blankets, and stands in the doorway. He watches whatever is running on the tv from the corner of his eyes, asking whatever he had on his mind before leaving again.

Minutes later he returns, now a step deeper into the living room, but not close enough to sit on the couch and accept that whatever is running on the tv is not boring but rather exciting. You lose interest in your show because watching Simon try to be subtle is the best evening filling entertainment you could ask for.

Next he leans onto the back of the old grandfather chair he had restored, his hands clasped together, looking at the tv, asking what happened previously or who was the person on the screen. You always answer and offer him a place at your side to watch the show or documentary together which he immediately denies and scurries out of the living room to get back to what he was doing beforehand.

At some point Simon realizes that the stupid tv show is actually pretty good and begrudgingly he sits down next to you on the couch, wordlessly you usually hand him the bowl with popcorn which he takes just as wordlessly and sinks into the pillows, kicking his feet up onto the small tv table and watches the tv.

Not that you weren’t the same when his shows comes on, you too always pretend to not be interested when he watches his cooking shows, instead trying to get the laundry done but by the time the host of said cooking show announces the winner of todays round, the laundry is forgotten and you two are arguing about who you would have chosen as the winner.

Only to decide that you two would have been the true winner because the last time you and Simon cooked together the neighbors had to call the fire department since your kitchen burned down and Simon wasn’t fast enough to extinguish the flames fast enough.

[izz030izumiin]

It was Simon’s turn for the coffee run this morning, he had Soaps’, Gaz’ and Prices’ order always in his mind so he didn’t even bother asking in the group chat of their Restaurant, instead he visits the usual little coffee shop only a few houses down from the restaurant he was working at.

“Morning! What can I get you!” You beamed at him, smiling sweetly with your blue apron on and a thick paper cup in hand, ready to serve Simon.

For a second he’s taken aback since normal Walther, the other guy working here knows his order and starts preparing them the moment Simon shows up in the window.

But you were new. Simon had never seen you before.

He was smitten with you and blinked a few times before he was back in reality. Some weird little voice has already planned your wedding with him.

“Hey. Uh…” Simon actually needs a moment to think.

What was his usual? For a moment he actually had forgotten what he and the team usually got from that place, to used to Walther already preparing his stuff.

Oh yeah, Simon remember and quickly tells you his order before putting the money down on the counter while you start preparing the drinks.

“So… you’re new here?” Simon asked casually, leaning against the counter end, waiting for his drinks.

“Yeah. Moved here a few weeks ago and started working here last week. And you?” You chirped happily.

“Working down by the restaurant, have been for years now. You should come over. Walther usually spends his break and gets a quick snack there.” Simon lies smoothly. Walther never stepped a foot into the restaurant.

But he wanted to see you more often. And if you would spend your break there where he could impress you with his cooking skills, wasn’t that worth the little lie?

You smile happy at his suggestion. “I’ll try my best, can’t promise anything.” You place the four cups in the holder and slide it into Simon’s hands. “Enjoy it!”

Simon was one hundred percent smitten with you when he left the coffee shop and walked back to the restaurant.

For the next two weeks Simon offered to take over the coffee run, ignoring the teasing coming from Gaz and Soap and the knowing glances from Price and Laswell but he uses every chance he got to see you.

Sadly one day you’re not there, Walther is back and Simon begrudgingly pays for the drinks and headed back to the restaurant.

“Hey, Si! There is someone at the back door for you!” Gaz called as he cut the vegetables for today’s food.

Simon immediately rushed outside to see you, dressed to impress with a small smile on your lips. “Walther told me you were looking for me… is it too early for that food you offered?”

“It’s never too early. Come on, I get you some delicious breakfast before the rush starts.” Simon grinned and pulled you inside, introducing you to the rest of the team.

After that day you spend every free minute of your break at the restaurant, Laswell had been nice enough to give you your own table after a while, so nobody would bother you, and Simon who hangs around while the rest works their asses off.

You and Simon share your first kiss after an especially stressful rush hour where he had managed to burn his hand and almost punched a guest in the face who ordered some seafood without the fish that came with it.

This is for the one person that consumes more Coffee Shop Au Stories than there are actual Coffee Shop Au Stories on the internet <3

[izz030izumiin]

husband simon "ghost" riley

husband!simon who cried while reading his vows, looking around the venue to see his team cheering for the both of you. They're one of the few people invited from his side of the room, but it was all the family he had and needed.

husband!simon who feels like he waited for this moment his whole life, the moment you finally said yes, giving yourself to him fully. Wearing the fanciest piece of clothing he ever had, saying the most important words he ever did, standing right beside you was a dream come true.

husband!simon who wouldn't drink a lot during your party, just admiring the view of you dancing and being so happy for him, with him. Especially enjoys when Kyle and Johnny stumble upon you and chuckle, pushing you towards the dance floor, having the time of their lives at the wedding of their favorite couple.

husband!simon who would take secret pictures of you, especially if you fall asleep amongst some guests. Head on Price's shoulder, Kyle's lap, or tangled up with Johnny on the couch in the hallway of the venue. He'll definitely torment you with them later, especially since you didn't really have a chance to get back at him as he has a spider-like sense for cameras and quickly avoids them.

husband!simon who's the happiest man alive beside you and would do absolutely anything to make you happy too. Acts of service are his favorite way to show you his love, especially when he's back from deployment for some time. Doing most chores and bringing you hot tea every morning,

husband!simon who spends as much time with you as he can, usually at home where he can just pull you close without caring for others. Grabbing your hips while you wash the dishes or pulling your waist when you try to get out of bed are a must.

husband!simon who just can't resist you, thinking about you all the time. Being far or close doesn't matter, you're on his mind 24/7. You can sleep beside him or be a thousand kilometers away, he's still thinking about you. If he can't see your face in the morning, he'd just imagine it with a smile on his face.

husband!simon who attends therapy regularly so he can be a better version of himself for the both of you. Especially if you're planning to make your little family a bigger one.

husband!simon who suffers from sleepless nights whenever you argue. He can't just fall asleep when you've just argued, so in most cases, he occupies his mind by cleaning the entire house or filling in some missing reports.

husband!simon who gets his stuff after the argument and gets ready to sleep on the couch, only to smirk when you enter the living room and make him come back to bed. You can't sleep without him as much as he can't without you. Yeah, you may not talk, but his arm will find its' way around your waist as you fall asleep.

husband!simon's favorite way to make up after an argument is waking you up with his arms around your frame and soothing apologies spilling from his lips. He loves the way you immediately pull him closer and comply, adding your own apologies to the mix.

husband!simon who is too old to care about morning breath, if you don't mind, he'll put a thousand kisses all over your face at any time of the day, especially to wake you up.

husband!simon who brags about you to his mates and won't shut up even if they complain. That's the price they pay after begging him to get to know more about his secret little love before.

husband!simon doesn't care about the money, because let's face it —he's got tons of it and will gladly spend it on you. Buys you secret gifts that he hides around the house before deployment, so you don't miss him too much.

husband!simon leaves the room whenever you call him. Your conversations are sacred, no matter how much his team wants to say hello, it's your time. They can call you themselves if they are so interested.

husband!simon who becomes a handyman as soon as you ask for anything. Your shelf is not leveled properly, and the sink is broken? Don't worry, love, he'll take care of it.

husband!simon who watches lots of documentaries with you in your free time. Also, secretly enjoys cooking shows and even more secretly — makeover TV shows. Especially the ones where they turn alternative-looking people into some normies, and loves to complain that they rip them off all their personalities.

husband!simon will get a matching tattoo with you. Probably already has some that remind him of you.

husband!simon who becomes very conversational, something you wouldn't expect the day you two meet. If you finally let him open up, he's yapping all the time with you, just rambles about all the little things that are on his mind.

husband!simon who very much enjoys those conversations while you two have sex, makes it even more sweet and domestic in his mind. Most of the time, you two talk about plans for the day or random chores that you need to finish while he pounds into you, making you both giggle and out of breath.

husband!simon definitely changes his tone around you. When Johnny heard that for the first time, his jaw dropped at the soft way he talked to you.

husband!simon who does everything in his power to protect you. The address he doesn't share with anyone, burner phones to contact you while being deployed, highest quality security. Most of the time uses nicknames instead of your name when in public, and probably one or two guard dogs that are y'alls most-loved pets (he pretends not to see how you spoil them while he's gone).

husband!simon who takes you on nice vacations whenever he can to make up for the time you two lost while he was deployed.

husband!simon who cannot see his future without you, you're stuck with him for eternity.

masterlist | request info

[izz030izumiin]

GUYS??? I DREW THIS????? WHAT????

hier kommt die sonne

[izz030izumiin]

2009 ghost it is! (but keegan will be next!) also wow, grey? ૮ o . o ; ྀིა am i @eyesofsix ??

in a cloud of sparkling dust

[izz030izumiin]

uploading this as a separate post as well + rainy version bc pls no flop (ㅅ´ ^ `)

keegan, as requested!

[izz030izumiin]

PURPOSE The Watermark Glossary is as its name implies: a glossary of Call of Duty artist's watermarks. With the rise of artwork being taken and reposted, this blog will serve as a way for someone to inform the artist. This blog won't prevent artwork from being taken, but it will be able to notify the effected artist that its happened.

Even if you're not an artist, creating a link on your own socials or posting about this watermark glossary will help spread the word. Artists supporting artists.

WHAT_TO_DO If you believe a piece of art has been taken/reposted on another social media site, we've provided a list of watermarks from all participating artists organized via art style. Please keep in mind this site is intended to inform the artist, not call out the person who took the art. It is the artist's prerogative to determine what should be done. If you wish to call attention to the person who did take the art, then please do so on your own socials, not this one.

HOW_TO_JOIN • Follow the Watermark Glossary if you have a Tumblr account. • Post a link back to the Watermark Gallery's page on one of your social's about page (we are helping get the word out about you, please help get the word out about us). • Use the "Message Me" button to send a copy of your watermark (no larger than 200x200 pixels) with three of your social media handles/names (please provide the social media platform & handle, not a hyperlink - we will do that on our end).

GUIDELINES Art is a very broad term. So we will accept most styles/types. Digital, 3D, 2D. We will not accept submissions from blogs that are primarily NSFW. We also will not be accepting fanfic. This blog is intended for a visual art style.

SOCIAL_MEDIA We will post links for most major social media platforms (DeviantArt, ArtStation, Instagram, TikTok, X-aka-Twitter). We will not accept for-profit/subscription sitelinks (Patreon, Ko-Fi).

FEEDBACK If you have any suggestions and/or feedback, please leave it HERE. As I am only one person doing this, I appreciate any constructive comments to help improve the experience.

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