#i feel like a new woman lol

[pettyprocrastination]

Two Phantoms

Pairing: Simon Riley x Female Reader

Summary: Simon sees a familiar face that doesn’t recognize him back. Kid!fic warning for those who do not enjoy them. 

Warning: nothing explicit but vague descriptions of violence, sex, and PTSD.

Word count: 1.2k

Authors note: This is purely a word vomit i did last night at 2am while thinking about Simon not being recognized by certain members of the 141 since they dont know what he actually looks like (ignoring the MW2 canon where he shows his face to them all) but i hope you enjoy nonetheless!

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     There’s a struggle in the shift. Going from being Lieutenant of the 141 to being a civilian. From hunting down arms dealers through rain forests and balmy deserts while ignoring the pain in his body and ringing in his ears at the gunfire around him to stepping off of a plane at the Manchester airport and hailing a taxi. To go from a masked monster to a man who hails a taxi in the pouring rain and ignores the driver’s attempt at conversation, shoulders curling in so he can fit his bulk into the backseat with his bag on his lap.

     Going from Ghost to what remains of Simon Riley. 

     There’s no reason to wear a mask in public anymore. Nobody knows him. The spot he’s picked an apartment in is empty of those who remember little Simon and his brother Tommy, nor the tragedy that befell the family. They only know the man who doesn’t speak and only stays in his own apartment every few months but offers his neighbors a terse nod each time he catches their gaze in the hall. 

     If anything a mask would draw more attention to him in public. Nobody bats an eye at the tall man with dark eyes in the fruit aisle of the supermarket.

     Which is why when you see your Lieutenant in public you walk right by him without a second glance in his direction while he remains frozen in place. He isn’t sure why it's shocking to him. You get leave just the same as him. You have a home to return to, a life outside of the blood and shit of the missions where you take his orders with ease, where you leave your fatigues to wear a comfortable pair of jeans and a hoodie with a bleach stain on the back.

       Simon hasn’t seen it before. He knows it exists. That you exist outside of the 141, outside of him. A place where you don’t follow his command in the heat of gunfire and slip into his cot the night after when neither of you can sleep to find solace in each others arms and the marks he leaves on you. 

     But now he’s witnessed it with his own two eyes. In the form of two boxes of pancake mix in your shopping trolley and the sleeping baby in your arms as you try to decide between orange juice brands.

     “Quality is going to shit everywhere, isn’t it bubs?” 

     Simon is staring. He knows it but can’t look away. 

     It’s a duality he knows everybody has. He’s aware that Johnny goes home to Glasgow to visit his brother and gaggle of nieces and nephews that no doubt shriek with joy and hang of his arms every time he visits, asking a myriad of questions that the man answers with patience and kindness one only reserves for children. He knows that Gaz goes home to a small apartment and a girl two semesters away from getting her masters in psychology that Simon doesn’t know the name of but can tell from the way he tries to hide his smile that she’s important to him. Price goes back to an office where he goes over reports and budget plans in a chair that makes his back ache and knees pop every time he stands from it before driving to a house that was once filled with the raucous that can only be made by 15 year old boys that have since graduated college and only call him when its Christmas or his birthday. 

     It’s different to see. To set his eyes on the little curls on your child's head (is it your child? Maybe you're babysitting, a godchild perhaps? Nephew? He knows you aren’t married. There’s an absence of a wedding band nor the tan line that would come from the removal of one in all the years he’s known you.) and to witness the same hand he’s seen sink KA-Bar into the chest of an enemy move up and down, up and down on the little ones back while their fingers curled and uncurled into the fabric of your hoodie like a cat kneading a pillow. 

     Logic knocks in the back of his head when he realizes time has passed since he first saw you. And that if you didn’t recognize him then you definitely won’t recognize him when you turn around and realize he’s been staring at you and your baby without moving for a solid seven minutes in the middle of the juice aisle. 

     Just as his foot shifts to turn and pull him away from this peek into your life that he didn't know existed,  the little one in your arm stirs. A soft whine curls in the back of their throat as their chubby face scrunches up and eyes crack open to latch onto the man watching them back. 

     You still haven’t noticed him. You're far too busy swaying from side to side to keep the baby in your arms calm and checking a carton of eggs for cracks to see the man behind you that is now locked into what feels like a staring contest with an infant. 

     “It’s alright Sam.” Your voice, even when talking to a baby, has a dry clip to it that he knows so well. The same curl in ‘sir’ when he’s pissed you off and the rasp of your laugh at a dingey bar under Soap’s arm. “I’m almost done, okay? Then we can go back home and take a nice long nap.” 

     Sam babbles behind his pacifier and wiggles in your arms. 

     “Yeah, you and me both, little man.” 

     Brown eyes stare into his own from over your shoulder without shame or abandon. 

     He looks like you. 

     But even without your fatigues and your weapon, you’re still a soldier. They all are. 

     You feel it, his eyes on you like a soft tug in the back of your head. Your sister calls it paranoia, her husband says PTSD. 

     You aren’t sure which is better. But when you turn around you see a man standing behind you, an empty basket in his hand and sad eyes sinking into your form. 

     Sam whines. 

     You can feel the thread of recognition between your fingertips as you look at him if only for a moment, a split second of staring into his eyes and grasping for some memory from high school or perhaps a date years passed that never turned into a second because you were overseas, just barely able to feel the fraying strings in your hand before its gone. 

     “Sorry-” 

     Your sister says you get stuck in your own head too much anyways. 

     “-Didn’t mean to block the aisle.” 

     He should say something. Some small reassurance that it’s no problem or he didn’t mind waiting, but he just nods his head once and watches as the woman he’s been through hell with walks away from him without a flicker of realization of who you're talking to. 

     Sam watches him over your shoulder and raises one little hand out toward him, before wiggling it back and forth in goodbye. 

     Simon waves back as you turn into the cleaning aisle and vanish from his line of sight. 

[lylahammar]

It's been a long time since my last Rosolite redraw, so now that I'm on break from the comic I decided to finally get around to it!! Rosolite in 2023 ✨ I've really missed drawing my girl 🥰

[cometrose]

sometimes i don’t like family hcs cause i think the relationship between the two characters is a little more fucked up that and i don’t think you’re giving it enough credit

“look they’re just like father and son!” and then i look and it’s two immortals with a messed up master servant dynamic where they would do anything for each other and slowly trying to overcome a relationship dynamic that is 1000s of years in the making

[mayybirds]

Important question, do more of the RE8 villagers survive in this version?

Yes, very much yes. I can't, at this time, guarantee any specific characters other than Elena (definitely) and Luiza (probably), and an undetermined number of unnamed villagers, but I definitely plan for some of the villagers to survive.

While the total wipe-out of the Village in RE8 is a lot more believable than other "total wipes" like Raccoon City or the Pueblo in RE4, as it seems significantly smaller than both RC or the Pueblo, and has a more intelligent breed of bioweapon under specific instruction to exterminate the Village, Resident Evil has a weird and kind of uncomfortable history with complete massacres over its long history that I'm always inclined to push against. It's lazy, uninteresting writing to me when it's a trope recycled so frequently... especially given it's very clearly mostly used to provide clean narrative "closure" between each game by eliminating any other survivors other than the main protagonists (and Wesker lol). Like... RE4, for example, functions as a contained narrative because the Pueblo dies at its end. Its function is over in the continued story of "Resident Evil"... it only matters going forth in the context of Leon, Ashley, and Ada as characters. But as a writer, I'm much more intrigued by a version of that story that involves other survivors. What would it mean to live through something like that, not as the hero outsider protagonist, but as a civilian? How do you even recover? Who would you be after?

The weight of the horror of the complete destruction of a place that's isolated to a single game becomes faded when it's the same shit in every game. I'm sick of it, and bored of it. It would hit harder if it wasn't every damn game... better to take it apart and try something new with its empty box.

[takemetodragonstone]

i have recently been made aware that it’s not normal to feel discomfort and disgust when people use your given name? like that’s not what everyone who doesn’t like their name means when they say they don’t like their name?? hearing mine makes me cringe and sometimes even makes my skin crawl or my stomach drop and you’re telling me most people don’t experience this????

[daechwitamv]

.

[carpe-mamilia]

9 people you'd like to get to know better!

Tagged by @terribleoldwhitemen, who I think really speaks for all of us - thank you!

three ships: Captain Crozier/ James Fitzjames, the Captain/ Lieutenant Havers, Sam/ Frodo

first ship: I'm afraid it was Harry/ Hermione, back before I even knew what fanfic was. So a good 18 or so years back now 🙃

last song: Andrew in Drag by The Magnetic Fields

last film: STILL Some Like It Hot three months ago. Unless Over the Garden Wall counts as a film since I always watch it as one

currently reading: the High Society script, learning the order of scenes and songs for quick changes

currently watching: nothing really, I've been spending my evenings doing alterations. But at work I've found a guy on YouTube who reads vintage ghost stories and they're bloody excellent: he has the perfect voice for saying things like "mezzotint" and "antiquarian" and "why, that is most curious". Would highly recommend if you like a bit of cosy spookiness.

currently consuming: sad supermarket sandwich and carton of iced coffee

currently craving: half an hour ago I would have said sleep, but I don't know if it is sleep so much as refreshing rest. We start tech on Monday and it's going to be a shitter because they haven't left enough time between entrances and exits for changing lol

tagging: @theiceandbones @littlehen @tattedpetticoats @buriedsecrets @mischieffoal @shimyereh @vinceaddams @fabledquill @beingstacey if you want to!

[digirainebow]

cidey sona time

Benjamina A. Buckley is a 17 year old girl, born with ginger hair and green eyes, and without her right arm. She is in her senior year of high school, and a straight A student with a love of science, particularly chemistry. She lives with her Aunt Autumn, who owns a flower store, though Mina's hay fever makes it hard for her to help out around the shop. She assists Doctor Octavius with his research instead. She is bitten by a radioactive goldenrod crab spider, and becomes Spider-woman.

Goldenrod crab spiders are known for their ability to shift hues, between white and yellow. When Mina is bit by the spider she was studying for Doc Ock's alternative limb project, the first noticeable symptom is her hair: it begins oscillating colors. (WORK IN PROGRESS - TO BE CONTINUED)

[pepprs]

ok so. today i am going to

fly (and travel at all) by myself for the first time since making the emergency return home from br!ghton bc of c0vid 4 years ago (extremely distressing and scary experience). and fly by myself two weeks after a mixed bag of a conference experience / plane ride home that included a massive scary depressive spiral that i had someone there to help me through as much as they could but it wasn’t enough which was absolutely not their fault but was deeply distressing to me at the time. so im about to be in a very similar environment but this time that person won’t be physically with me and it’s going to wreck my brain in multiple directions in part bc i have not yet recovered from the depressive spiral. i am still in it. lawl <3

ride in an uber by myself for the first time. ride in an uber at all for maybe the 5th time. as a very short young woman. which i have been expressedly warned by my parents not to do. lol <3

check into a hotel by myself for the first time

walk in a big city by myself for the first time (technically slightly untrue bc wjen i was last in ch!cago 5 years ago i did power walk from the hotel to the conference venue (like a block away) on the last day bc i was pissed about a situation but that was like… a block and i saw ppl i knew walking in that area. this time i will be in the same city and know no one at least for today

give myself a self care evening at the recommendation of my therapist…. for the first time. (maybe after i take a walk which i will do specifically when it’s still light out to see what the area is like). tonight no one i know will be in ch!cago yet and i have no plans to do anything. im going to play video games and draw and sing and give myself space and time to just enjoy being by myself and see how it goes

[larryrickard]

i had a dream that i made little cards that say "THEY!" on them that i handed out to people at work who got my pronouns wrong, immediately after they got it wrong. and in smaller text (or on the back) it said "i don't want an apology, i want you to do better" or "don't say you're sorry, DO BETTER" and ..... i kind of want to do it. maybe i'll get some moo cards made lmao

various scenarios included:

me slamming it down on a desk in front of them.

instead i had stickers, would slowly peel one off while they watched, and stick it on it on them.

handing out a quarter sheet piece of paper based on the 'i caught being good' tags we'd get in kindergarten which said 'i got caught misgendering hallie/my coworker'. it would have their name and date on it and a giant 🙁 face. i had them as a pad of paper and would hold up a finger to say 'wait a second', dramatically pull it out of my back pocket, take my pen out of another pocket, slowly fill it out in front of them, and hand it to them while staring them in the eyes.

getting a whiteboard for the outer side of my cubicle wall that said '[days] since i was misgendred' (with a bonus by saying 'last offender: [name]'

i also dreamt that i got into trouble for it because i was making people feel bad and was 'creating a hostile work environment'. i was just like.... okay and how do you think i feel? and my boss shut up real fuckin quick. dunno if that would be the case irl but if that does happen i can only dream.

[postmanlinksbootyshorts]

was wondering why i was so happy all day and it's bc i started work and clocked out 90 minutes earlier than i had been for the past 6 months lol

[synthville]

so what im getting is that it was absolutely unnecessary to isolate raffi on gotham city in order for her story to go on.

a story that’s so halfhearted that five episodes in—halfway to the end. btw—her motivation is yet to be explained (why go back to this sector of intelligence work when teaching seemed to be fulfilling? was she made to do this?? did she volunteer because her son now lives on this planet now apparently?? was losing elnor cris and possibly seven so painful that burying herself in work seemed like a better option??? who knows! not me!!) and it’s definitely a retreat character-wise but the fact that they still haven’t laid the groundwork to make this stick is kind of amazing lol. it’s the way they’re not even pretending to give a fuck about her or any of the other women characters for me—they said you’re a womb or a subordinate ladies pick one and shut the hell up LMAO?

the fact that the ‘real plot’ is happening on that other ship while everything raffi does is basically an afterthought with backstory slipped in between the cracks like aged caulk is so disheartening and pathetic. star trek picard make an effort maybe. she’s a polarizing character that’s been stuck in impossible situations, weighed down with retractions and stereotypes (they thread the line but HM) because the narrative continually refuses to meaningfully engage with her and a lot of fans of the show wont examine their own biases to see why they have such a viscerally negative reaction to a complicated black woman character that’s good at what she does, knows it and refuses to kneel at the foot of their hero’s :)

and if it wasn’t for ms hurd elevating this performance with sheer will, massive talent and the whip of that (sexy) ponytail? shit would be so much worse. but it’s still bad! because instead of giving her a nuanced, thoughtful send off she’s once again being made to suffer for the nth time. because why? oh right so wise man worf can guide her to the light lol give me a fuckin break.

and it’s no accident that if you cut raffi out (which they literally did in ep4 miss musiker you WILL be avenged) the story could more or less proceed as usual. that’s by design.

because legacy characters or not, im simply not buying that the main white cast members (plus two interlopers idgaf about those new guys and they’re doing nothing to make me care either. pick a random channel and their stories are being told right now live and in color like don’t piss me off) just so happen to be on the ship with the lead yet the sole woc is sent away on some underbaked adventure because ‘reasons?’ please. this season literally could not be more transparent about the audience they’re catering to and who/whose stories are of importance and consideration.

and i knew this would probably happen once the premise for s3 was revealed but i still can’t get over how obvious it is that there really was no plan for raffi and that she only happened to bypass the cull of the la sirena crew because she was romantically linked with seven at the time. which is baffling considering how things are (not) going between them (#theyareMARRIEDletthemTALKandKISSandREST)

and it’s not just them like everything about this season is quite literally happening just because. every slightly interesting or fresh development (and character it’s true) from the previous seasons has been dismissed or diminished and for what? secret sons and man pain? ew lmao. no suspense no lingering threads just excessive shots of ships, an aggressive insistence on biological families and rampant, shameless references to past glory. a mess.

[oysters-aint-for-me]

shelfie

[widevibratobitch]

.

[munamania]

my friends r like weird about homeless people i feel like i have to keep saying like bro they’re not gonna fucking do anything to you. like. they are people having a rough fucking stroke of luck struggling and not receiving any help. being looked down on so much. just treat them with a litte humanity wtf

[helenhuntingdon]

Of course another lesbian show was cancelled