#urmomschocolatemilk

[urmomschocolatemilk]

I js read a post from @starstruckmiraclekitty and it got me thinking

Ghost would have one of those ungodly loud, heart attack giving, dad sneezes.

Like you would think a bomb went off, that shit is so loud. No matter where he is in your house/apartment you can hear it like he’s in the same room. Sometimes it even wakes you up, wether at night or if you’re just taking a nap.

The first time you heard him sneeze you jumped outa your skin, hand on your heart with a small “oh my god” that’s quickly followed with “what the fuck Simon.”

He probably feels bad that it scares you so badly, but at the same time finds it funny and will laugh at you.

[adrunkskeletonsduck]

dont know how many Simon Ghost Riley lovers i have following me on this blog, but if you are one, head over to my side blog - @urmomschocolatemilk - bc hes literally all i post.

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Warning - alcohol, alcoholic ish Simon

I’m wasted y’all and wanted to write

There’s a strange comfort that Simon finds at the bottom of each bottle during leave. Most times he’s not even sober enough to remember the way he gazes at the empty thing, other nights he is to aware.

Now Simon wouldn’t consider himself an alcoholic. He doesn’t drink when he’s on base, much to his distaste, but the minute he’s back in his bare apartment, he’s drowning himself in liquor.

It helps. More then anything he’s ever tried. Even sleeping pills don’t always insure the sound sleep he gets after a large bottle of booze. Wards off the horrid nightmares to.

Simons very aware of how bad of a habit this is, although he’s not particularly concerned about it until he meets you. In his rush to not ruin things he forgets about the liquor bottles that litter his living room in bedroom.

“Simon…?” You voice his hushed, lowered with worry for the man as you stare at the coffee table in the middle of the pristine clean room. The only litter in his home the seemingly endless bottles of booze.

He turns, brows furrowing at your town. His eyes tracing your gaze back to the full table. He lets out a heavy breath, eyes widening.

“I must’ve forgotten to clean up…” he mumbles, almost to himself. His town hides it well but there’s a swelling sense of horror mixed with fear brewing in his stomach. Please don’t leave, he silently pleads

“You’re an-“ you start, turning to him with worried eyes. He doesn’t like that expresión on you.

“No.” He cuts you off quickly, “it just helps.” You nod.

“Let me help instead…alright?” Now it’s his turn to nod, letting himself share a rare moment of vulnerability as you envelop him in your arms. Simon breaths in your scent, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his face into the crook of his neck.

As you drag him to bed that night, tucking yourself into him under the shared blanket of his bed, pressed against eachother in a more intimate manner then either of you would like to admit, Simon finds that you were better then the booze.

[urmomschocolatemilk]

➜ Simon Riley x gn!reader

➜ idk the word count, not proofread at all, reader is a foodie

➜ I was inspired. Also this is very self indulgent, I love food and you should to 🤷🏽‍♀️

The ringing of the doorbell is unprompted this late in the night. You’re not expecting anyone, although you did try to make plans with Simon earlier that day and he turned out to be busy. You’d assume he’s asleep by now.

You’re tempted to ignore whoever it is, unwilling to get up from your comfortable nest of blankets and pillows on your couch. A moment passes and the only sound in your apartment is the movie on your tv, but then the peaceful atmosphere is again broken by the ringing of your doorbell. You groan in annoyance, reaching through all the folds of blankets to find the remote and pause your movie before reluctantly throwing them off you and making your way to the door.

You’re tired and hungry, with no energy to even make a simple meal so as you undo the locks on your door you’re already thinking about the words you’re about to hit this asshole with, ready to lecture this fucker over every minor inconvenience in you’re entire life.

With the final click of the second lock you swing the door open, feeling the chill of winter air bite at your exposed skin. Opening your mouth you begin your berate of unpleasantries. “Who the fuck are you knocking on my door this la-“ you stop in your tracks.

“Oh - uh Simon?

What are you doing here?” he chuckles lightly. The sound makes you blush in embarrassment.

“I expect nothing less from you love,” his eyes shine in amusement from behind his mask.

“I’m just a bit on edge…sorry about that,” you explain sheepishly, and he hums in acknowledgment, sticking out a bag that you hadn’t noticed in his hand.

“This is for you, I felt bad about canceling earlier so I thought I’d drop by…” it’s his turn to be sheepish now, looking away from you as he speaks. Who knew a war hardened soldier could be so intimidated by simple conversation. You take the bag from his hand, a small smile making its way onto you’re face to replace the shocked one. Reaching into it, you pull out a styrofoam box, which you are now discovering to be the cause of the smell of your favorite cuisine. Your smile widens as you take a peak inside to find steaming hot, fresh food.

“You brought me food?” You ask, looking up at him with a grin. He nods. “Oh my god Simon I could kiss you thank you so much!” You squeal excitedly, “this is exactly what I needed right now!”

He finds himself smiling softly at your reaction, a warm fuzzy feeling spreading over his chest at the fact that he’d made you so happy. You wave him inside your space, the grin never leaving your face as you grabbed your utensils and sat down, pulling out a chair for him as you repeatedly thanks him.

He’d definitely be bringing by food for you more often.

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Angst Simon x reader Old draft I finished at 2am, does it make sense? Idk not really, do I care? Also no bc I lowkey kinda love it. Alway idk rlly know how to end this so send some ideas in on how you think it should end bc I’m torn bro ALSO ig im back for now! after months...hehehe 😅

You’ve done long distance relationships, and they’re hard. Much harder than most people think them to be. But whatever you have, going with Simon is harder.  

You don’t know what he does for a living, or why he leaves you for months on end, only to come for a month or two (at the most) and leave in the middle of the night. He doesn’t say goodbye, doesn’t even say hello.  

One morning you’ll wake up and he’ll be there, arms wrapped around you, and his chest rising and falling steadily. And then the next morning he’ll be gone, leaving you to wake up to a cold bed and no idea of where he’s gone off to or when he’ll be back. Sometimes he’ll leave a warm breakfast in the microwave in apology, or a boquete of flowers. Other times you get nothing, and he vanishes without a trace. 

Once he’s gone you don’t hear from him for months until he gets back. Until he shows up in your bed again, on a random, sunny morning. That may just be the hardest part.  

You respect his need for privacy, never pushing him to tell you what he does or where he goes. If he wants to tell you he will, but sometimes you can’t help but wonder if he’s even really real or you’re just hallucinating it all. It quite literally feels like you’re dating a ghost. 

But for now, you pretend like the jarring nightmares he has are normal, or the excessive amounts of scars that paint his body aren’t there. For now, you keep the bubbling curiosity you feel strapped down and tucked away.   

Whatever you have with Simon isn’t too hard, not on a day-to-day basis, but sometimes it gets harder.  

Some days you go through the day, every cell in your body aching to see him, hear him, smell him, touch him, and taste him. Other days it comes randomly, often before bed, as an animistic need for him with you that bubbles under your skin, trying to claw it way out, only to be satisfied by him. Those nights you go to sleep hoping - no praying - for some miracle to bring him back to you. To wake up the next morning with him at your side. 

Most times your prayers go unheard. Leaving you to wake up in an empty bed again, and the need for something as simple as his presence unsatisfied. 

Rarely though, are your prayers answered and you’re awoken to the sound of soft breathing next to you, and the weight of his arms around your waist and the comforting warmth that radiates from him and envelops you. Today is one of those rare days. 

You watch his sleeping form, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. You shift closer to him, burying your head into his chest and inhaling deeply, trying to get enough of him to last you a century. In his arms all your worries and stress, and everything bad disappears. You can already feel it all melting away. You feel relieved. It makes you want to cry – no it does make you cry.  

Simon wakes to your trembling body and silent sobs. At first, he simply shoves his face deeper into the crook of your neck with a small groan, placing gentle kiss to the skin. After a moment though, everything starts to come into focus, and he becomes aware of the quiet sound of sniffing and shaking figure in his arms. He pulls away quickly, suddenly more alert and completely awake as worry and fear course through him.  

“Darling?” The pet name slips through his teeth so easily, the roughness of sleep adding to his already deep voice and for some reason it only makes you cry harder. “Darling what's wrong?” He asks worriedly. You sniff, choking on your own tears as you attempt to respond.  

“I c-cant do this anymore Simon.”  

He frowns, his stomach dropping at your words, “Do what?” he asks. 

“This,” you emphasize, “The never knowing where you are or when you're going to come home, or if you're even going to come home in the first place!” another sob escapes you, “it's too much for me. I-I mean sometimes it's okay but other times it's just so unbearable! I just can't do it anymore.” you cry 

Hes silent, unsure of what to say to comfort you. He knew this arrangement was rough on you. He’d thought he’d been protecting you by not telling you the truth about his work, but he wasn’t sure telling you now would make things any better.  

His body seems to have a mind of its own and he find himself reaching for you, pulling you into his lap and easing you both down as he sushs you gently.  

“I know love, I know,” he cooes, but your quieting sobs are the only response to his weak attempts of comfort that he desperately hopes hide how torn he is on what to do. He listens to your breathing as it evens out and your body relaxes against his as you drift back to sleep, but he knows he isn't getting a single wink for a while.  

[urmomschocolatemilk]

“The world was on fire and no one could save me but you”

Simon who’s not a stranger to the struggles of mental health or unhealthy and addictive coping mechanisms.

Simon who always picks up the phone when you call, no mater how late it may be, ready to help in anyway he can.

Simon who helps drag you out of bed when you haven’t been up to it for the past week, helping you shower and dress yourself.

Simon who holds you close through nightmares and panic attacks the same way you held him. Soothing your cries of pain with gently cooed comforts and delicate touches.

Simon who hides from his own pains and traumas behind his mask, but you know.

Simon who needs time to adjust to the idea of being vulnerable with someone and appreciates your patience with him.

Simon who pinky promised you, even though he didn’t like pinky promises, that you were both in this together.

Simon who will always be there for you, through thick and thin, because no one was there for him until you came into his life.

Main blog - @adrunkskeletonsduck

[urmomschocolatemilk]

➜ Simon Riley x gn!reader

➜ 500 words, fluff

➜ I’m js trying to get back into writing rn, so here’s a small drabble

Simon was a minimalist. Something you’d assume he’d picked up from years of serving in the military, but he’d say he’d always been like this.

His apartment was bare, stripped of anything personal of his. No family portraits hung on the wall; no cute pillows adorned the couch, no decorative fake plants or collection of expensive airplane models – one of the only things he’d ever admitted to taking enjoyment in. He had one couch, a coffee table, a cabinet that held the tv on it and a plain black blanket that was folded and tucked in the small storage space under the table.

Inside the bedroom his bed was made perfectly, and an empty desk sat in front of it against the wall. Two books were stacked on his nightstand neatly, waiting to be finished and put back on the shelf that held his personal library.

And in the kitchen, it was the same. You wouldn’t find anything more telling about him in the cabinets than in the rest of the house. The plain black mugs and generic white plates. The sink was kept empty, a single candle sat closed on the island, unused. It might as well have been the only type of decoration he had.

His house was always pristine and clean. Everything tucked away in its spot, never taken out unless it was being used. There was hardly any evidence anyone lived there.

Until he met you.

You breathed life into his space the minute you set foot in it. The first time you’d seen the place you’d been appalled, telling him it looked like a ghost lived there. His lips had tugged up at the comment in a half smile, watching as you laughed at your own joke.

Slowly you added to his space, decorating it with small – and large – trinkets, artworks and pillows. One Christmas you gifted him a small three piece of model airplanes after he told you about the old hobby of his. The three planes now sat proudly on his dresser.

Fake plants littered the shelves, and colorful paintings hung on the walls. The plain black blanket was replaced with multiple fluffy ones. Some were woven with floral patterns and others held colorful splatters. Photos of the two of you greeted him at the door when he returned home now. In the kitchen you’d replaced the plain mugs with some that held corny slogans or were souvenirs you’d brought back from your international travels.

You’d done your best to make this space feel like both of yours, which did mean some of his plain tastes still littered the apartment, but you’d say it meshed nicely with your pops of color. You’d even found Simon to be more relaxed and wanting to stay home now that the place no longer felt like a hotel or air bnb rental.

He never verbally voiced his appreciation, but you could tell that it made him feel at home.

You made him feel at home.

Main blog - @adrunkskeletonsduck

[urmomschocolatemilk]

hey there!! i have read a few writings of yours and im in love with your work<3 i have a request in my mind though, could you maybe write a drabble with ghost x civillian fem!reader?(ofc if ur comfy with it)

thank you so much and have a good day ahead!!<3

Simon Riley x reader

You weren't very specific so I hope you like this!

“How was work?” The gruff voice breaks the eerie quiet of the house, and you shriek, keys clattering to ground and missing their designated spot in the key bowl. 

“Simon!” You scold, bending down to pick up what you dropped and then places them on the counter top along with your coat and purse. He lets out a deep chuckle, and the sound makes a small smile stretch across your lips. You can’t even be mad at him anymore. 

“You really need to get a hobby, something to do while you’re on break instead waiting around to scare the shit outa me when i get home,” you state, but he just grins with a hum. You and Simon had an unspoken competition to try and see who could scare the other the most. Sometimes you’d complain about how he had the upper hand since he pretty much did nothing all day when he was on leave and you had to go to work, but he’d just shrug off your complaints. 

“I made dinner as a peace offering,” He tells you, although it sounds more like an offer as he takes your hand in his and leads you to the kitchen. You watch as he leans down to open the oven, letting you get a little peek at the food that was being kept warm for you. It smelled delicious. 

You sigh, “Thank you Simon.”

“F’course.” He makes it seem like it’s nothing at all, but as the exhaustion of your day really begins to set in, it feels like the most significant gesture in the world.  

You walk out of the kitchen and collapse on the couch as he plates the food in the other room. Rolling over you grab the tv remote from the coffee table and turn on a comedy show you’d been watching the past few days. It wasn’t very good if you had to admit, the plot was weak and there were only a few characters you liked, but it was funny and you’d mostly only been watching it when you needed to unwind after a grueling day.

It certainly helps lighten your sour mood, and by the time Simon comes back into the living room theirs a small smile tugging at your lips and quiet laughs escaping you. He sits down next to you once you’ve sat up, and hands you a matching plates of what you can only describe as heaven. 

“I’ll get you next time,” you promise him, shoving a fork full of food into your mouth. He just smiles amusedly at your words, before digging into his own plate. 

[urmomschocolatemilk]

➜ Simon Riley x gn!reader

➜ 990 words, breakup angst

➜ finished an old piece real quick, it is very unedited but lets not talk abt that! Also unrelated but does anyone else feel like music videos have died...idek if that makes sense.

You wanted to erase him from your mind. Make it as if he’d never existed and spare yourself the heart renching pain that burned your chest as you stared up at the ceiling blankly. The little memory’s of the two of you seemed to project themselves onto the dimly lit white plaster. Each one flashed in your mind like a slideshow. It felt as if someone was reaching into your chest and crushing your heart in their hand with each scene.  

This feeling of heartbreak was foreign to you, you’d never been so devastated over a breakup. So what made him so different?  

You didn’t know how to deal with this nauseating, gut renching pain that seemed to explode from every inch of your body. Your face was swollen from crying, eyes blood shot as they stung with fresh tears. Your body trembled in exhaustion, heavy sobs turning into pathetic whimpers.  

Your hands came up to cover your face as the tremors in your body amplified as another wave of grief hit you. 

He was only one person who could quell the pain you felt, but he was also the cause of it. All you needed was to hear his voice. That alone would be enough to soothe your broken heart. You were sure it wasn’t appropriate to call him. You knew very well it wasn’t. No one calls their ex. 

But your hand seemed to have a mind of its own though, leaving your face to rummage around your nightstand table. You barely heard the loud clatter through your cries as you pushed various items off your nightstand in a desperate search for your phone. Your fingers grazed over it shortly after pushing one of your perfume bottles over, and you greedily grabbed at it, renching it off the charging cord to unlock it.  

You have to squint against the harsh glare of the blue light, your tears obscuring the images displayed as you swiped onto his contact. You’d never hit call so fast in your life, clutching your phone like a life line as your mind begged him to pick up. You knew he wasn’t asleep, he rarely slept much to start with, and when he did he’d doze of around two or three am, never earlier. It was still only twelve.  

Time seemed to stretch on excruciatingly slowly with every ring, your whimpers becoming desperate and the tears flowing faster.  

Finally, after what felt like an eternity the ringing stopped abruptly and your phone beeped to signal he’d picked up. Your raw sob was ripped from you as you heard his gruff voice filter through the speaker.  

“Hello?” He sounded groggy; voice laced in exhaustion, but you couldn’t care.  

“Simon,” you choked out, your chest heaved, relief washing over you at the sound of his voice. 

From the other side of the phone his eyes widened, all hints of exhaustion leaving him in an instant. He sat up, fully alert now.   

“Y/n?” He asked incredulously. You replied with another sob, this one much louder than the last. He was frozen, unsure of what to do as you cried, it hurt him to know he was the cause of your pain but the rational part of him knew you were better off without him. The sounds of your cries tore him apart, and your next words hurt even more.  

“It hurts so much Simon,” You cried, “and it’s all your fault. I hate you so much.”  

“I know love...” he whispered, speaking more to himself than you as hiccups began to break your pained wails. “It’s for the better though.”  

There's a pause of wordless silence, only filled with the sound of your tears. His heart thumps in pain, spreading the poison of guilt through his body, pumping it into his veins. It’s as if you’re trying to make him feel worse about this than he already does as you try to gather enough strength to speak through your sobs and translate the garbled screams of thought going off in your head.  

“No-” hiccup. “No Simon, you don’t get to say that-” hiccup. “Because there is nothing better about this,” you don’t have to specify what ‘this’ is. He knows exactly what you mean because he feels it to. He hears it with every sob, and cry, he feels it with every pang of his heart and word spoken to you under such circumstance. Circumstances he caused.  

You continue, “and you can sit there, in your stupid plain apartment, and go out with your stupid friends and you can pretend that the last year meant absolutely nothing to you but I know that at the end of the day, when your lying in bed waiting to fall asleep in a cold, empty bed, it hurts you just as much is it hurts me.”  

Simon doesn’t cry, you’d never seen a single tear even build in his eyes. You’d even used to joke about how there was no heart under all that military gear, but at this moment he feel his eyes sting with the foreign feeling of tears, and his throat tightens. He swallows heavily at your words, blinking rapidly.  

“Why’d you call me sweetheart?” You’d say the nickname makes you sob even harder, but you're not sure that’s possible. You’re too hurt to lie to him.  

“B-because I needed you Simon,” you want to scream at yourself.  

“Even though I’m the one who hurt you?” he questions idly, throwing the covers off himself and rushing to grab his car keys. A half laugh leaves you and it almost brings him to smile, but its quickly followed by another sob.  

“Even though you’re the one who hurt me,” you repeat back to him in confirmation, and for some odd reason he feels his heart swell with love. He slips on his shoes quickly, and opens the door, you can hear it creek on the other side of the line.  

“I’m on my way sweetheart.” 

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Simon Riley x reader

Warnings - mentions of violence, blood, death

Inspired by "In my mouth" by Black Dress, word count 300

The mission had gone south. Your team had been ambushed, outnumbered and outgunned. Only half of them had been able to get away with their lives and the other half lay dead outside of the facility. And then there way you and Simon, clutching fatal bullet wounds as you sat side by side, pressed up against the wall of some broken-down, abandoned factory covered in crimson blood. 

“there's no way in hell the rescue team is going to get here on time,” you hiss through gritted teeth, adjusting yourself closer to him. 

“We’ll be fine,” he rumbles' out. You shut your eyes tightly, reaching into your shirt to pull out the chain that held your wedding ring. You tug it, breaking the delicate links of metal and slipping the ring onto your finger. He watches you with heavy eyes. 

You laugh darkly, and the action sends you into a fit of coughing, blood splattering out of your moth “we’re going to hell Simon.” you sputter 

“And we’ll do that together to.” You struggle to shift your body towards him, you can tell your almost gone, loosing strength. You’re dizzy from blood loss and although he’ll never admit it, you know he is to. You reach up, pushing his mask up to reveal his lips. One last time.

You're so weak you cant even tell if the words came out a whisper or if they’re in your head, but as you take his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his fiercely, you don’t care.  

He kisses you back with the same passion, his hands grabbing your waist and pulling you forward weakly, and you groan in pain, lips still locked on his. It’s the last feeling you remember before nothingness.  

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Dad!Price

hes my self proclaimed father, also this is gonna be a new mini series, so send in dad!price headcanons 🙏

Price cherishes such peaceful mornings like this, they're something he lacks when out on deployment. The sun is shinning and the birds are chirping. The cold winter air nipping at the exposed skin of his face and hands. The leaves of nearby trees rustle with a slight breeze that does nothing to help with the cold. He enjoys these mornings.

Even when (Especially when) he’s half asleep being dragged to the park by his seven-year-old daughter at eight in the morning, he cherishes these mornings.

She'd woken him up early, excited that he was back home after such a long time, and begged him to take him to the park. "Please, please, please!" she'd said, looking up at him with adorable puppy eyes she knew he couldn't resist as he slid her plate of breakfast infront of her. And despite the fact that he could barely keep his eyes all the way open, he still agreed to take her.

Now she skips happily in front of him, babbling about everything and anything that’s happened to you and her over the few months he was out. He nods and hums, giving her his best exaggerated reactions when needed, his heart warming with every step as he looked down at her with a soft smile.

When they finally get there, she's ready to run off and play but he stops her, leaning down to adjust her coat and hat, making sure she's protected from the cold winter air. "Be careful," he warns her, giving her a semi stern look. She just giggles, and runs off onto the play structure to join the few other kids out this early, wooing and grinning as she goes, going down the slides and kicking up sand.

He sits down on a bench, watching her play what looks like pirates with two other boys. Smiling as he watches her boss them around, pulling her imaginary sword on them when they complain, and threatening to kick them off "her ship". He makes sure to ingrain the scene into his memory.

Then when the two boys leave, telling her they'd see her tomorrow and waving at her with bright smiles. She waves back, running over to Price once again with a new plan of mischief.

"Dad come here!" she grins, running up to him and taking his hand. "Push me on the swings!" she begs him, dragging the man who's ten times her height on the sand behind her. He chuckles letting her drag him over.

Morale of the story he'd do anything to see his little girl happy.

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Mutli character x reader

Just something small and heavily self indulgent because my life is dumpster fire of heartache from hell.

“Why do you do this to yourself?” He whispers to you, watching as a steady stream of tears cascade down your cheeks, shining in the orange light of the setting sun. It breaks his heart to see you like this, over someone he knows isn't even thinking twice about the hurtful word they just said.  

“Because,” you sniff, your voice wavering as silent sobs wrack through your body. He waits patiently for your answer, eyes shining with sympathy as you turn to him. “He was everything I ever wanted, since I was a little girl.” 

“Even when he puts you through this?” he asks.  

“No,” you whisper with a shake of your head, “In my dreams, I was supposed to be happy.”  

He stretches an arm out, and you take his invitation, burying your head in his chest and letting him wrap his arms around you. Your tears soak through his shirt and your body only shakes harder as he pets your hair soothingly. He whispers words of assurance, promising you it’ll be alright.  

Only once you’ve quieted down does he speak again, “I’ll be here whenever you need me.”  

“Promise?” You have no need to doubt his statement though and you both know it. He’s waited for you all this time after all.  

“Always.” He confirms. 

John "Soap" Mctavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Konig, Keagan Russ

[urmomschocolatemilk]

Gaz with a reader who doesn’t gaf about anything

Like he’s behind you, knuckles white as paper trying to control his anger while some bitch yells at you and you’re just blinking at her waiting for her to finish.

And then when she’s finally done yapping he’s shifting his weight forward about to go beat her and you just put an arm across his body and go “ok.” with a blank stare before turning on you’re heel and leaving.

He’s so baffled as to why you’re not on her ass giving her the beating of her lifetime. The car ride home you’re acting like everything is normal and he is so confused.

When you get home he asks about it and you’re just like “oh I don’t really gaf about her so” with a shrug and then continue getting ready for bed

He probably thinks about the situation more then you do 😭

[urmomschocolatemilk]

GUESS WHOS UNTAG BLOCKED AFTER MONTHS 🕺🥳

Anyway send ghost headcanons pls, I need to talk abt my man ☺️

[urmomschocolatemilk]

first and last time i'm ever writing something like this

Toxic!Simon who leaves you to wake up to an empty bed after whispering the sweetest things in your ear while buried inside you.

Toxic!Simon who doesn't return any of your calls or texts until he needs you and of course you let him have you.

Toxic!Simon who says you're 'just friends' but gets mad when you go out with other men.

Toxic!Simon who lashes out on you over small mistakes, yelling and screaming before leaving you crying in your apartment.

Toxic!Simon who comes back hours later, with hickeys on his neck and chest you know weren't yours, wrapping you in a hug and telling you how sorry he was while peppering your face with kisses.

Toxic!Simon who's never laid a finger on you and promises that he will never.

Instead he rips your heart to shreds.

[urmomschocolatemilk]

play the mf game if ur gonna write shit fanfics abt it jesus christ u new fans are so insufferable. it’s insane JUST how out of character and how stupid you all write everything.

Cry bitch